#‘don’t you think you’re dressed inappropriately’
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Jiang Wanyin’s two main love languages are acts of service and also yelling <3
#my boy…..#he’ll do anything for you from getting you a glass of water to literally sacrificing himself for you#but he WILL also be just so fucking rude to you#he’s not. really even doing it on purpose he’s just. ohhhh my god#50% of the time when he says something that comes across as REALLY Fucking Mean what he was actually trying to say was#‘I’m worried about you!! Let me help you!!’#but the words that actually come out of his mouth are like. ‘Stop fucking around and just come home you fucking jerkoff’#you know. that’s the gist.#which is why I LOVE that sangcheng Nanny comic where JC says#‘don’t you think you’re dressed inappropriately’#when he MEANS to say#‘don’t you think you will be cold dressed like that because. it’s cold outside’#(sub-subtext: I don’t want you to be cold!!!!)#but Huaisang is Normal (….kinda) and therefore interprets it as ‘you are dressed like a HARLOT you HARLOT’#like that’s just Jiang Cheng’s everyday life. he tries to say ‘I love you’ and the words that come out of his mouth are ‘Fuck odd’#*off#he’s just as confused and frustrated about it as you are!!!
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Dying thinking about gojo literally pinning and hardcore simping for reader, literally showering reader in praise, flattery and gifts because he no longer gives a damn about hiding his feelings, almost proposing to reader whenever he can and reader's just... completely clueless about it💀 and she thinks it's just gojo being friendly. Poor man would be absolutely devastated when he goes one day "[name] i'm in love with you" and she just goes "me too, i love all my friends!" 💀
she loves me, she loves me not! — gojo satoru x fem!reader
contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo (what’s new), highschool!gojo, he’s pathetic but in love your honor, oblivious!reader, ooc gojo i got carried away soz
notes. anon, when i first read your ask i literally started giggling and kicking my feet. that. is. so. gojo coded.
“please reject gojo and put him out of his misery,” utahime implored, taking hold of both of your hands. you think she’s asking, no, begging you to. beside her, shoko nods vigorously.
“but why?” you furrow your eyebrows, perplexed by their sudden request. “i can’t reject someone who doesn’t like me.”
shoko giggles at your comment. her laughter only wanes when she notices the dead serious look on your face. “... you seriously have no idea what we’re talking about?”
“not really,” you shrug, criss-crossing your legs to find some comfort on the hard wooden floor in shoko’s small dorm. it was late, past midnight, and the three of you had a shared mission tomorrow, but for some reason your two friends managed to rope you into their drinking circle.
utahime and shoko exchanged a significant glance, their unspoken communication raising your curiosity. utahime takes a long sip of her beer.
“hopeless. they’re both hopeless,” your short haired brunette friend lamented, pinching her nose bridge. it leaves a faint pink mark.
intrigued, you lean in closer towards the two, “care to elaborate?”
“you’ve never once questioned satoru’s borderline inappropriate behavior?” shoko asks you earnestly. you ponder for a moment, trying to recall any moments in the two years you’ve known the snow-haired boy.
“satoru is satoru…” you mumble, shaking your head in denial.
utahime’s eyes bug comically. she slams her can of beer harshly on the ground. you wince at the loud noise of the metallic can hitting the floor.
“you’re kidding. even i can see through that jerk!” utahime’s black pigtails sway wildly.
“[name], how about what happened in shinjuku last week on our day off?” shoko quietly reminds you of last weekend when the two of you along with satoru and suguru decided to empty your pockets in one of tokyo’s largest entertainment wards.
utahime’s head whips back and forth from her best friend to you, “eh? what happened?!”
from behind the dressing room curtain, you voiced your concerns, “shoko, i don't think we can afford designer clothes on our student budget.” the cream-colored silk dress you wore clung to your body, its price tag undoubtedly surpassing a year's worth of your student earnings.
“don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” shoko’s voice carried a knowing smile. “just come out and show me the dress!” you think satoru’s carefree attitude is rubbing off on her.
with a nervous sigh, you emerged from the dressing room. the dress fit like a glove, accentuating your body in just the right places.
bright flashes from shoko's phone startled you, and she chuckled deviously while rapidly typing. she tossed her phone onto a luxurious cushion, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exposure.
“you look so sexy. even better than the model.” she gives you two thumbs up, eyes roaming your figure. you feel flushed at her praise.
���as flattered as i am, there’s no way i can afford this,” you look down at the dress, lips downturned. “i’d be in debt for life.”
“no need to worry,” shoko winked, leaving you confused. given that her income was similar to yours, it didn't make sense for her to be able to even dream of shopping designer.
a soft thud interrupted your conversation. you turn around to see a blue lollipop rolling on the expensive carpeting of the store.
“suguru, are my eyes deceiving me or is that an angel?” satoru's mouth is wide open as he shamelessly checks you out. he takes one of his hands and places it over his heart, gripping the fabric of his white shirt. the windbreaker he is wearing rustles at his dramatic movement.
“i think… i’m experiencing a heart attack! shoko help!” he kneels in the middle of the store dramatically. shoko shares an unamused look with suguru. the pair nod before simultaneously kicking satoru.
during all of the commotion, you stand awkwardly in the million yen dress.
“satoru, are you okay?” you watch him take the two blows from your friends, concern evident in your voice. he grunts softly before gently taking ahold of your hand.
“no,” he croaks with a playful glint in his eye. “i’m wounded and there’s only one way to fix it.”
you look at him, your gaze heavy with concern.
“i’m afraid you’ll have to kiss me for the pain to go away.” he added, blinking at you expectantly with his blue eyes.
you lightly shove him away from you. “you’re an idiot.” satoru laughs loudly.
“that’s what love does to a man.”
“yeah, yeah. i’m going to change out of this dress, don’t get into any more trouble while i’m gone.”
satoru’s grip on your hand strengthens, halting your actions.
“how much?”
“excuse me?”
“the dress. how much for it?” he stands up to his full height, reminding you of the obvious height difference between the two of you.
you're at loss for words. gojo was crazy, but definitely not crazy enough to spend a million yen on a silly dress.
shoko happily chimes into the conversation. “one million yen. it’ll be two million yen with the rest of my purchases though!”
suguru’s calm demeanor is replaced with shock. the black haired male’s jaw drops, “two million– satoru, you’re seriously not thinking about–”
“hah? who said i’m paying for your stuff?” gojo makes an ugly face at shoko.
she raises her hands innocently, “it’s not my fault the dresses come in a set. if you want to see your beloved [name] in that dress you’ll have to pay for mine as well.”
you watch shoko and satoru engage into a silent argument. the tension in the fitting room section is so thick, you think it’ll take a special grade weapon to slice through it.
trying to alleviate the mood you tell gojo, “satoru, you really don’t have to–”
“i’m buying you that dress.”
“o-okay.”
half an hour later, satoru happily strolls out of the store with an arm around your shoulder like he’d just won the lottery.
perhaps gojo is just naturally flirty, you had tried to reason to shoko and utahime.
it’s been a week since the eye-opening conversation with the two and you’ve found yourself on cleaning duty with said snow-haired boy. it was a miracle that satoru even showed up. he had a tendency to skip his turns, often resulting in a long lecture from yaga.
as the two of you worked silently in the empty classroom, you couldn't help but admire the setting sun. its golden rays painted the sky with hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over everything. unknowingly, while you gazed at the sky, gojo's gaze was firmly fixed on you.
breaking the silence, he asked, "have you ever thought about getting married?"
his question caught you off guard, causing you to momentarily pause from wiping the windows.
“not really,” you replied, biting your lip gently. “unless my family decides to arrange a marriage. you know how unforgiving the world of jujutsu sorcery is.”
gojo's grip on the broom tightened, his eyes locking onto yours with a newfound intensity.
"we should get married y'know," he blurted out.
the piece of cloth you were using slipped from your hand in shock. surely, he couldn't mean what he was saying. after all, the two of you were only second years.
“what?”
“i’m saying i think i’m in love with you.”
“oh.”
silence engulfs the room once more before a soft giggle escapes your lips.
satoru can only watch, entranced.
“that’s good to hear! i love you too– and suguru and shoko! perhaps the four of us should all just get married.” you chuckle into your hand.
satoru can't help but stare at your hand in envy. perhaps if he were the palm of your hand, he’d be able to feel the touch of your lips.
but he couldn’t. he was cursed as a man with an overpowered innate technique, and despite it all he couldn’t even gain the one thing he desired. gojo satoru watched you, eyes filled with a mixture of longing and defeat.
his devastation does not go unnoticed by you.
you were under the impression that he was grumpy because yaga had forced him into cleaning with you.
"cheer up, satoru! if we finish early enough," you continue, your tone highspirited, "we can go to the new crepe shop that opened last week. my treat!" you winked, and that immediately caught his attention.
“like a date?” his eyes sparkled with hope.
you shrug, a smile on your face. “i suppose if you look at it from a certain perspective…”
“great, it’s a date!”
good things come to those who wait, satoru thinks, humming happily as he starts to sweep the room at an inhumane pace.
maybe in ten years time the two of you will be happily married with eight kids, he smiles to himself.
#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo fluff#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojou satoru x you#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#this is me coping bc of the leaks
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FUCK IT
SUMMERY : Reader gets her date interrupted when Hotch calls up asking for her to get to the BAU. Reader rushes over still dressed up and a certain dr can’t keep her eyes off her teehee.
Tags:fem reader , a huge amount of awkwardness, reader is over her love life
A/N: I WANTED AWKWARD SPENCER REID, bare with me tho cuz I haven’t written a fanfic since I was 13 and it was horrible so please be kind and let me know your thoughts :))) enjoyyy.
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You were used to your phone ringing at the WORST possible times, I mean with your job that was something you just had to prepare yourself for. Serial killers don’t take a break just so you can have a girls night out or take a nice relaxing bath after a long day. Although never in your life did you imagine the wave of relief that would wash over you as the all too familiar ringtone blared from your phone. Normally you would groan and feel your body grow more exhausted whilst hesitantly picking up the phone, but not tonight. Nope. Fortunately for hotch, you couldn’t have answered the phone faster. “what’s up” low and behold hotch was on the other end requesting your presence ASAP!
You tried to hide your glee as you glanced over at the douche-ist blind date that the great quote on quote “matchmaker” of the century Garcia, had raved on about the week before. To be fair the date didn’t start off bad, it was actually the most decent one you’ve had yet. Honestly you were ready to finally praise Penelope for actually finding you a decent man to take your mind off the unrequited school girl crush that you had on a certain “kid” genius. somehow you escaped the dude who clearly was stuck in some frat boy mindset, well not without some snarky comment made towards you which you shut down a little harsher then needed but seriously you couldn’t hold back anymore, you had no idea what possessed Penelope into thinking you would EVER consider going home with the king of fucking douchebags (most likely the biceps and tight clothing that the man sported). Nevertheless here you were speeding down the freeway, thinking way too hard about your love life completely blanking and forgetting to drop by your apartment to quickly change into something more work appropriate.
Before you knew it you’ve parked your car, walking into the cold air. A shiver runs down your body and the shock hits you when you realize. Here you are in a little skimpy black dress that clings to your curves in “just the right way” according to Penelope before shoving you out into your car heading to that horrible excuse of a date, “ahh shit. Fucken seriously! Of course this is just my luck … I mean at least I look good” groaning and mumbling to yourself, you make your way into the building. You knew Hotch would be understanding, I mean you never know when you’re gonna be called in and it sounded urgent so yeah, sometimes you and your coworkers walk in with inappropriate work wear. You will never forget the time he called everyone in at god knows what time, Spencer had walked into the room with his pjs sporting a fluffy dress robe, you seriously thought someone was going to have to perform cpr on you that night.
Walking into the building in heels was definitely a pain in your ass, but you managed as you pushed the briefing room door open. A low wolf whistle from Derek Morgan was the last thing you needed right now “damn sweetheart, who knew you could clean up so nicely“ As you make your way into the room, you playfully roll your eyes at him.“haha very funny” you cringed as everyone’s attention was now drawn to you. while taking a seat next to JJ, wishing to be wearing literally anything else “Sorry Hotch, i came straight from..” you hesitate for a second, glancing around before continuing “A date, but this sounded important so I didn’t have time to change”The stoned faced man simply nods at you “It’s fine. You're here, right now we have a lot to cover” He starts debriefing the team, leaving no detail out of the case, no matter how brutal, you tried your hardest to give him your unwavering attention, but you could feel someone’s eyes on you. And out of the corner of your eye see him. Spencer.
His stare was hot and intense, and fuck was it making you become a flustered mess. You glanced at him from your peripheral trying your best to be subtle about it, it was getting harder and harder to focus on Hotch and the case, not Reid. But when his puppy dog eyes drifted up, down and all over your body, your body involuntarily reacted, slightly squirming in your seat. Before you could stop yourself, your eyes turn and lock onto his gorgeous brown ones, a smirk graces your lips as he finally notices your eyes now on him. Looking like a kid being caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he turns pink from the embarrassment and shame of being caught, and god did that make your head spin. Now it was his turn to awkwardly squirm in his seat while staring at Hotch with all his attention. You giggle under your breath at his fumbling awkwardness. Before you know it everyone around you starts to pack up their things and stand up, leaving you confused. Of course you spent the whole debriefing paying so little attention to the case and more on Spencer.
Sighing, you pull the hem of your dress down as you stand trying to save yourself from even more embarrassment. “soooo how did it go? Was he as yummy as you’d hoped?” Garcia wraps her arms around yours as you try not to stumble down the stairs towards your desk “you, my love are officially banned from meddling in my love life” you could already hear the trail of complaints bouncing around in her head as you plopped down onto your desk chair, reaching for the new case folder hoping to catch yourself up before take off in the morning “aww come on I for sure thought you’d be jumping his bones, all those rippling muscles, who In Their right mind could resist” the thought of the man you had seen a few hours prior put a foul taste in your mouth, causing your face to scrunch up in disgust “he was a complete dick, he legit referred to himself as an “alpha male” AN ALPHA ,Only thing I wanted to jump , was off a building at that point” a defeated look from her was all the conformation you needed, no longer were you going on blind dates, and your love life was back to being non existent and sad “sorry Pen I tried, I really really tried, you just have horrific taste in men like my god do we need to get you some help. These guys are basically human garbage” whilst looking up your eyes naturally drift and settle on Spencers desk frowning as you watch him, his heads buried in the case file whilst obsessively jotting down notes like some multitasking god, your heart couldn’t help but pine after his more, the looks you shared moments before didn’t help your case either. Resting your chin in the palm of your hand, you drag your eyes away trying to spare yourself from going into one of your Spencer Reid spirals. You look up at Penelope already disliking the pitiful look she was giving you “are you sure your ready to give up?, I mean I know this cute guy who would be super into you, he's just your type “the new voice startled you, turning in your seat you’re met with Emily smirking down at you whilst leaning against your desk inserting herself into the conversation with JJ beside her “wow ok fun, are we all just gonna just dive head first into my personal life?, don’t we have a case to work on?” trying to deter the subject of the conversation off of you was a bust, as the women you call friends gleam down at you with a shared look “yeah no this is too entertaining to sit out on.” you couldn’t believe you were having this conversation right now, letting out a groan you leaned back in your chair covering your face in hopes of hiding the redness in your cheeks “sweetheart, what you need is a good ol one night stand, get a certain pretty boy out of your system” if you weren’t already melting into a puddle of embarrassment, you definitely were now “Morgan shut up please for the love of everything holy”
you could only pray Spencer wasn’t paying attention to the little group that was forming at your desk, maybe he was being good and reading the case file like the rest of them should be doing but of course luck wasn’t in your favor tonight “what are we talking about?” Before you could shut the whole conversation down Morgan happily answered Spencer “oh, we were just discussing Y/L/N’s love life. I think she needs a good root, what do you think?” that stupid smirk Morgan was happily wearing was enough to make your blood boil, now you truly wished to disappear “ok ok that’s enough” you shoot up from your seat avoiding any eye contact with Spencer not wanting to see his reaction to your humiliating red face “conversation over, my love life is going back to being non existent, thank you for your concern but it’s over, officially dead so no more talking about it.” you snatch the file off your desk ready to get the hell out of whatever situation you found yourself in “i'm going home to at least get some sleep before we leave tomorrow or I’ll be a zombie all day” with that you hastily made your way out of the building and into the cool night air once again.
wrapping your arms around yourself in hopes to provide some warmth, you slowly make your way to the car park. Before you could make it to your car you could hear foot steps getting closer and closer until they were right behind you, stopping along with yours once you had reached front of your car. Quickly spinning around you slam them onto the car's hood, arm in your hand, face down and pinned.
“Ow ow ow ow Ow!” Shit. It was Spencer. The man you’ve been daydreaming about and here you were pinning him to the hood of your car. “oh shit sorry, my god, don’t walk up on me like that holy shit Spence you scared me” you pull away off him whilst letting go of his arm and backing away a little. Spencer lets out a hiss of pain as he pushes himself off the hood, rubbing his arm to try and relieve the pain “sorry I was just trying to make sure you got to your car safely. It’s late a-and” he looks at your dress whilst clearing his throat looking away awkwardly “are you ok? you seemed upset in there” he looks back at you whilst giving you a smile that made you wanna pass away on the spot “yeah I’m ok, just having your dating life put on full blast in front of the team like that can be a tad embarrassing” silence was the only response you were met with, you glance up at Spencer trying to think of something, anything to say in this moment “you look really nice by the way, it’s unfortunate your date turned out that way.” His eyes meet yours, your breath gets caught in your throat as heat creeps up your neck to your face “t-thanks” tugging on the hem of your dress you smile sheepishly “not the most comfortable outfit, honestly wish Pen let me wear my sweater but you know”
“Penelope” you both say, you giggle as Spencer chuckles. “Oh by the way, I thought you may want these, may help a little tomorrow” he hands you the notes he took from the briefing, Your fingertips brush against his, the feeling of warmth from his hands sends a shiver down your spine. “Thanks Spence. I appreciate it” you stand there longer than needed before you start to turn away from him. “You know, that even though there aren't any hard statistics, it’s roughly estimated that every 1 in 3 or 4 blind dates actually end up as a success” he rambles on, looking back at him you try to pay attention but you can’t stop your eyes from sifting down towards his lips “so there is a chance” his voice fades away as his words become background noise and your thoughts become louder and louder, all you could think about was him, the feeling of wanting only grew stronger with each passing minute. It didn’t help that his lips were tempting you, calling you in. you couldn’t hold yourself back much longer, will power growing weaker and weaker “fuck it” your body moves before commen sense had its time to put a stop to whatever ridiculous thoughts you had muster up, suddenly your lips press onto his without thinking it through. It was short and one sided yet sweet, the faint taste of coffee and sugar overwhelmed your senses
The sudden realization hits you hard as you push yourself off Reid, the feelings of regret and fear settles itself in your stomach making you feel sick “Sorry I wasn’t thinking, shit sorry, forget that happened ok” you back away keeping your eyes glued to the ground in fear that you’ll look up and only see rejection written on his face. What in the hell possessed you to do that?, why the fuck did you do that, the only reason you kept your feelings shoved down was to protect your friendship with Spencer, nothing meant more to you then the bond you both shared and now you’ve ruined it and for what? A stupid kiss? “wait, uh No no it was just unexpected I didn’t hate it actually quite the opposite” your head snaps back up at a red faced flustered Spencer Reid “don't apologize“ his warm hands warp around your cold ones as he steps closer to you once again “did you um maybe want to try that again? Only if you want to though I don’t want you to regret anything” you giggle as he starts to nervously stumble over his words, this time more confident in your actions your lips find his for the second time tonight.
The taste of coffee meets your lips again as your body relaxes into the kiss, which is very reciprocated this time. The warmth radiating from Spencer chases the cold night air away. As your bodies shuffle closer together. you both hesitantly pull away from each, you wanted to stay here in this moment for as long as possible but of course your bed was calling your name along with the early flight departure. “I should go” you really didn’t want to “I know“ his hands stayed on your waist for a moment before slipping away “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow” the sweet look on his face drove you crazy, the urge to say fuck it and stay with him for the remainder of the night was overpowered by the sleepless night before, you settle for placing a goodnight kiss on his cheek instead “night Spence” winking you open your car door and make your way in, you turn the car on and roll the window down to call out to him as he backs away with a smug smirk on his face “sweet dreams pretty boy” with that you drive away replaying the events of tonight in your mind, god you couldn’t wait to get the case over with so you could finally have a date that wasn’t going to end in ruins, especially with the man you’ve been crushing on since your first day, yeah no you weren’t going to get any sleep tonight now.
#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!readr#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds x reader
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jealousy, jealousy
˚✧₊⁎ The Vees ⁎⁺˳✧༚
warnings: violence, off page murdah, suggestive themes, possessive behavior
18+ only
watch out for red flags in real life and read at your own discretion ♡
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• The least jealous of the three, but that doesn’t say much, does it?
• Running an enterprise goes hand in hand with being an Overlord. Vox prides himself on being everywhere at once but he knows his limits. If wants to keep this cushy life he built, and you safe, he can’t spread himself too thin. That means occasionally cutting back on distractions
• So go out, have your fun— playtoys even! He’s not worried. Vox has literal eyes on you 24/7, access to your phone and all its contents, your lifeline is constantly synced to his peripherals. Really! He’s not worried!
• The problem arises when Vox feels threatened or undermined. If he’s in the same room, no one should even be looking at you! And if some sorry soul dared to touch you!? That’d be the last time they have hands
• “I’ve been looking for you!” He says from behind as his claws creep around your shoulders. He’ll ignore the Sinner, bringing your attention to him as security drags them away. You don’t need to know how jealous he can get
˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Sharing, shockingly, is not in her vocabulary! Not outfits, not credit, not the spotlight and fucking especially not you
• You’re her favorite project, she so lovingly calls you, which is a giant compliment. She dresses you every day so if— for some hellish reason— you left her side, she knows she has a visual claim on you. Vel quickly snaps and posts a pic of the two of you together before you go, just to remind her audience the fact you’re spoken for! Don’t you feel safe? And stylish?
• Unlike her partners, Velvette can multitask so having you around the studio can be an everyday treat! Unfortunately she has to split her focus, occasionally crashing the conversation to a stop so she can snap at someone
• Her eyes are sharp, they pick up on every little detail and seldom miss a thing. No one in her workshop would even think about approaching you, unless Vel asked, so it was all too easy to spot that new-nobody-model break his neck to check you out
• You’ve seen Velvette reduce even the oldest, most thick skinned to a puddle of piss in the street with her words. She doesn’t give anyone the chance to touch what’s hers. She’s shameless and loud, stopping the inappropriate behavior from across the room if she has to, “Oy! You! You’re fuckin’ fired, get the fuck out of here ‘fore I set you on fire!”
• As they run for the elevator, she debates if the clothes they’re wearing are worth keeping or not. With a glowing finger she swipes them off the model anyways, stripping them of her brand… and their dignity
• Velvette marks the occasion with a kiss to your cheek, stained with black lipstick, and another posted picture with a clever caption
˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Val invented jealousy
• He handles it as well as everyone expects
• It’s not limited to you, either! Business partners, employees, friends (if he has any left), play things, he’ll be up and arms about anything that belongs to him. There’s only one way to cut the cord tethered to him, and he’s always the one to decide how and when
• Val may have a lot of toys but you’re not one of them. You’re special— precious, actually!
• He has tabs on you at all times. Tracker in your phone, jewelry with his name on it, a bodyguard if he’s feeling particularly paranoid that day!
• Val also loves showing you off. Love bites are his favorite mark of ownership, he’ll show off wherever is most recent so be prepared to swat his hands away. Everyone can look, but only he can touch. He has four hands, one of them is on you at all times in public
• No one should manage to get in spitting distance of you— but if somehow they did and had the gall to talk to you… he’ll break their nose on the spot. He’d make quicker work with a gun, but then he’d get blood on you and he doesn’t want that
• “You’re so fuckin’ hot tonight, baby, look how clumsy you’ve made this idiot!” Val cackles, poorly masking his rage, “Seriously, I think you’re trying to get me riled up.” You open your mouth to deny it but he laughs again, carefully pulling you closer with both pairs of arms, “I’m only teasing!”
• Looming over you, Val shoots said idiot a murderous glare that gives them a five second head start. He’s yet to lose this game of chase. He always returns, clean as a crappy soap ad, to shower you in gifts in lieu of an apology for disappearing
#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel headcanon#the vees#the vees x reader#vox headcanons#vox imagine#vox x reader#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel velvette#velvette x reader#velvette headanons#velvette imagine#valentino x reader#hazbin hotel valentino#valentino imagine#they’re all messy but i love them#except val he knows what he did
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day 7: monkey d. luffy [eating out]
࿓ synopsis • why not using his devil fruit ability while eating you out?
―❦ nsfw, opla!luffy, f!reader, pet names, swearing, licking, biting, kissing, fingering, oral > f receiving, inappropriate usage of abilities/power, strength using, hair pulling, praising, ‘is all! • 0.9k • & concluding the first week of kinktober 2023 with our cute captain luffy! the week was soo fun & hope you liked it too. so, once again, enjoy & see you soon in the next week! [kinktober m.]
“mmhh – y/n – shiiii – pussy’s so goo – mmhh,” luffy says, his full attention on your pussy that his tongue is inside – licking it, kissing it, and eating it as if it’s the most delicious meal he has ever had in his entire life, and you swear it really is because he’s eating you so passionately that you’re losing your mind thanks to it.
“delicious,” he adds as if he hears your mind – maybe he does through the way you’re moaning his name over and over again, tongue curling only to leave the beautiful voice you have to announce he’s making you go crazy.
leaving your wet clit, since you have cum already, for a moment, putting his head on your naked thigh, pulling the skirt higher, exposing you completely. you look into his eyes, chest raising up and down rapidly, making your visible breasts through the dress take luffy’s attention before saying as he looks up at your face with wide sparkling eyes, “the most delicious pussy – ohh – how I want to reach until my tongue’s tip reach at the end of it!” he chuckles, fingers playing with folds, then, picking the wetness of your cum with his long fingers only to put it into his opening mouth – showing off you how he licks his fingers from tip to end, “mmmhhh –“ closing eyes for a certain time.
opening his eyes again, he chuckles at the sight in front of him – his pretty girl becomes breathless, nipples get hardened, the lip is bit, heat rushing to the face; the meaning of beauty for him.
then, an idea hits his mind like a ring while he kisses your inner thighs, fingers entering in and out, taking out the last bit of your cum. “yes! of course,” he speaks to himself more than you, but he turns to you when you catch him taking the tip of his tongue with his fingers, face has the confusion that makes luffy laugh, “stay still princess, the captain has a great idea!”
“about wha – oohhh – lu – luffy!” you moan his name louder when he goes back to what he was doing a moment ago, differently now, he’s more daring, more hungry, and looks like the idea that is in his mind drives him crazy because he holds your thighs, opening your legs wider, looking up to your face and winking at you when he realizes how you’re trying to understand what he’s doing – why he’s like that! and then, it hits you –
“ooohhh my – luff –!” you even can’t finish your sentence when his tongue gets into your pussy, slowly yet effectively getting longer inside your fucking pussy! “are you out of – agghhh – your – shiii – luffy!”
he chuckles – intense sensation coming out of your pussy to your entire body rising up with the radiations his chuckle sents; a hand finds his hair, pulling them, pushing his head closer to you – an instinct that screams as the opposite version of what you’re saying, “’is too much – luffy, ‘is too much!”
without realizing any of it, you begin to cry as his hot tongue twists inside you, a feeling you have never tasted before sending both of you into oblivion – you find yourselves wanting more and more each passing time, and you don’t care that your legs cage his head between your thighs by closing around his shoulders, or how luffy’s grip on your swifts from your thighs to under your ass, picking you up, pulling you to his tongue further by the ass while using his pure strength.
you no longer have the ability to think straight – only breathing and moaning his name, it goes out of your wide open tongue as a melody – as a pray into luffy’s ears, making him moan in sync with you, doubling the feeling of being fucked by his tongue up until you begin to lose your consciousness.
his tongue hit the end of your walls, the place even you never reached on your own, and he’s not done yet.
the realization becomes knowledge when he adds his fingers along with his tongue, eyes opening and looking into yours, your dried tears refresh with new ones the moment his fingers begin to grow longer in length – he smirks, taking off his fingers back, and shoving them into you harshly – you throw your head back, “AAGGHHH – fuuuck! luffy, luffy, luffy –“
eyes go white as they roll back, hands grip his hair harder, legs shake within the rest of your body, and then you cum into his tongue – dripping into it and to the ground from there.
he sucks the flesh, drinking all the juice your body has made with such delight, you watch it with blurred vision even though you’re one step away from passing out because of how his tongue made you so weak.
“yes, princess?” he mocks, licking his lips, eyes sparkling, a smirk on his cute yet attractive face full of the glow of your cum and juice – worth it, definitely worth it. “you will not blame me for eating my favorite taste, will you?”
you shake your head, eyes closing, a hand finds his shoulder, pulling himself to you, “you’re crazy luffy.”
picking your exhausted body up, walking to the bed he will fuck you into now after you get a bit of rest, he chuckles, “for your pretty pussy, babe? always.”
with the newfound kink of using his devil fruit’s ability on you while fucking you, luffy is sure fucks you so good in that bed too.
❦ tagging: @lilvampirina & @snowprincesa1 & @dookiemeshibear *cuties*
#💦 kinktober 2023 first week#kinktober 2023#one piece#one piece x reader#opla#opla x reader#one piece live action#monkey d. luffy#luffy#monkey d. luffy x reader#luffy x reader#luffy x f!reader#luffy x you#luffy x y/n#luffy smut#opla smut#one piece smut#brown#WHAT A CUTIE#last work of the first week yaaaay#<3
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Unprofessional Attraction | ONE
♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader
♡ word count - 13K
♡ series synopsis - There's no such thing as a coincidence, right? CollegeSenior!Reader (22) and linguistics teacher Yunho Jeong (27) indulge in an entanglement of inappropriate gravitation. It's risky and it's wrong, but listening to one's better judgment never leads to anything as intoxicating. When someone threatens this secret relationship with blackmail to expose the truth, things take a turn for the worse. Graduation can't seem to come fast enough.
♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff and explicit content (mdni), slight age gap, teacher/student relationship, other members are featured, pining, some obsessive behavior and manipulation (mainly from reader), drinking alcohol, inebriated driving (big no no frens!) perverted!yunho, bigdick!yunho, sprinkles of praise, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (mention of bc pill tho), porn with plot
♡ A/N - part one is kinda tame, the next two parts will have more explicit scenes. I hope you enjoy, and please look forward to the rest! I haven't posted a fic on tumblr in many years so pls be kind ♡
Part 1 | Part 2 | ?
Yeosang is too attentive, especially when it comes to his best friend.
That’s why he knows you well enough to call you out when he whispers, “You’re staring again.”
“I’m staring at the whiteboard, pretty sure that’s what you’re supposed to do in class,” you argue, not bothering to even glance at him. It’s quite obvious that your eyes are too busy soaking in things that don’t have to do with phonology.
Your linguistics teacher, Yunho Jeong, is dressed particularly charmingly today. Something about the tight-fitting white polo shirt and chocolate brown slacks he has on this class is too distracting. It doesn’t help that his hair is a little more messy than usual, you wonder if he was running late this morning. Linguistics has nothing to do with your major, however, for your final semester in college, you simply needed a filler class for your last few credits. Yeosang suggested joining him in this class so you could both support each other, but he never factored in the fact that you’d be too distracted by the teacher to do anything of use for him. There weren’t many younger teachers such as Yunho at your university; in fact, you were pretty sure this was only his second semester teaching in general. He was generally a mild-mannered and easygoing teacher, but he was also able to command a room when necessary.
A minute later, Yunho offers everyone a 10-minute break since the last section of his lecture lasted a little longer than he anticipated, and the class immediately breaks out into chatter.
“He’s single, you know,” Yeosang turns towards you and props up his head on his palm, “Or so I’ve heard.”
“Don’t tell me things like that, you’ll make me delusional.”
He doesn’t miss the goofy smile tugging at your lips as you stretch your tired limbs from too much sitting. The lectures for this class were two hours long, but they were only twice a week on Wednesdays and Fridays, so you couldn’t complain too much.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“That I might have a chance with him,” you nudge him playfully.
“I’m not sure he’d want to date someone barely passing his own class,” Yeosang quips quickly, subsequently squeezing his eyes shut when you flick his forehead in response.
“Watch your mouth, I am not ‘barely passing’!” You return your eyes to the subject of your conversation, slowly taking in his form, “For the record, I could definitely pull him if I tried to. You think he likes younger women?”
“That is a terrible idea,” your best friend immediately shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”
“Surely I would be guaranteed to pass then though, no?” you offer instead, half-joking.
“You haven’t gotten laid in the last month and this is the first person that comes to your mind to fix that?” Yeosang scoffs incredulously.
“I wouldn’t just be in it for the sex,” you clarify. Your keen eyes watch his every move, from the way that his large hands flex as he thumbs at his phone to the way he purses his lips in curiosity at whatever he’s looking up. Like a lion stalking a gazelle before pouncing. “He’s quite literally perfect. Tall, smart, handsome, financially stable… the whole package. I deserve a man like that, right Yeo?”
You meet Yeosang’s eyes curiously, and he reminds you, “I think you’re forgetting he’s our teacher .”
“We graduate soon,” you whine, “Act now, worry later. I could graduate with a boyfriend already lined up the minute I get handed my degree.”
“You’re playing with fire, ____,” he holds his hands up in surrender. As your best friend, he knows you’re not joking, despite how much you might play it off later. He knows that once you set your mind on something, you generally don’t stop until it’s achieved, “Let’s see you try, though. It’ll be entertaining.”
When class resumes, you listen to the rest of his lecture with renewed cravings and an unusually optimistic disposition Yeosang has never seen you hold for this subject.
From that moment forward, every instance you “stumbled” across your teacher was planned. You figured out which parking lot he parked his car on during the day and bought a proper parking pass for that lot, now alternating between taking the shuttle and your car to the university. Your schedules crossed occasionally on your driving days, and you’d simply offer warm greetings or cheerful send-offs depending on the time of day. Yunho was a man of habit who visited the same campus restaurant nearly every day he worked during lunchtime in between his midday classes. It didn’t take much energy to stop by a couple of days a week and run into Yunho, giving you the ability to strike up a conversation or two when asking for recommendations on what you should order. These instances were simply to put you more on his radar, instead of just being a face in the sea of students in his class.
He seems to be good friends with two other teachers who are also around his age, teachers Seonghwa Park and San Choi. You wonder if getting in their good graces would somehow transfer to your teacher, by word of mouth. Luckily, you have a friend who has Mr. Park for a history seminar. On a Sunday night, you shoot a text to set the stage.
[Y/N: Jongho!!!! It’s been so long since we’ve hung out :(( Can I swing by your class tomorrow and pick you up? Let’s get lunch!]
When 2 PM rolls around on Monday, you make the mistake of trusting the shuttle to come on time. It’s nearly 3 PM when you get to the necessary building, and you’re sure Jongho’s class ended close to half an hour ago. The plan to run across Mr. Park is thrown completely out of the window, you are only worried about Jongho being upset with you. You know he’d never, but still. Being late to something planned ahead of time always upsets you to no end. You curse at yourself over and over every stride down the hall, and it’s good that the hallways are virtually empty or else you’d probably look crazy. Eventually, you make it to your destination.
You’re just about to blindly call out an apology to Jongho but end up stopping dead in your tracks as soon as you enter the door; not only is Mr. Park in the room seated at his desk, but he’s also accompanied by Mr. Choi and Mr. Jeong. They’re huddled together, Yunho leaning against the whiteboard leisurely with a cup of coffee in his hand while intently listening to Seonghwa complain about the registrar’s office fucking up another one of his student’s enrollment for his class.
“There she is,” Jongho sighs this aloud as if his prayers have been answered.
He didn’t know if you were going to still make it and he’s dying of hunger from skipping breakfast. Immediately, all three men’s eyes turn towards the entrance. You pray to God that your face isn’t flushed with how hot you feel being the fixation of so many eyes. Or maybe it’s more so how handsome the men are that those eyes are coming from. This surely isn’t the time to have such a weakness for a strapping man in a button-up and crisp slacks.
“Hello, ____,” Yunho is the first of the three to speak. Subsequently, San amiably nods toward you in acknowledgment.
“Good afternoon all,” you greet everyone, bashfully adding, “I’m so sorry for interrupting.”
“Not interrupting at all,” Seonghwa waves his hands, dispelling those fears, “We were curious why Jongho was sticking back so late. He assured us a friend was coming to get him and we just chose not to leave him.”
Well, this is embarrassing. You nod hastily and glance toward Jongho, who is practically skipping down the lecture hall’s steps. Yunho wants to crack a joke about seeing you everywhere, about how you both must be magnets or something else silly, but he decides to keep that to himself. He doesn’t want it to seem like he’s keeping track of course, even if he is.
Instead, he affirms to the other men, “This is a student of mine.”
Admittedly, your ears had tuned every other word out except “mine”, and you nodded a little too enthusiastically. You haven’t been this discomposed in a long time, too bashful to look any of them in the eyes, and you pray it’s not showing too much elsewhere. Jongho’s friendly hand landing on your shoulder grounds you.
“You ready?”
“Absolutely,” you puff out.
“Don’t cause too much trouble for her, Jongho,” Seonghwa pokes a bit of fun at one of his top students, who replies by waving him away and scoffing. They seem to be relaxed with each other— this is something you desire to achieve with Yunho soon. You snatch up your friend’s hand and finally move to leave for lunch, if it could even be considered that now with how late it is.
“See you Wednesday, Mr. Jeong,” you look back and shoot him a wave, accompanied by a charming smile. He nods back, offering you his own as well.
Unbeknownst to you, San’s eyes follow you out the door with Jongho, especially surveying the plush of your thighs rubbing together as you walk. Such as yourself, skirts are surely a weakness of his.
“She’s a senior, right?” he murmurs, half-jokingly.
“Stop it,” Yunho promptly elbows San in the arm, earning a stifled laugh from Seonghwa.
Yunho has heard stories about San’s slight affinity with the pretty college women when he goes out to bars on the weekends. Nobody from his own classes, of course. Needless to say, Yunho would not let him even think about you that way. No way in hell.
“I was just asking, Jesus.”
Seonghwa stretches his limbs from his chair, “It’s never ‘just asking’ with you.”
“You buy a table of women drinks one time and your friends never let you hear the end of it,” he groans with a roll of his eyes, “God you guys are the worst.”
“Yeah, sure, that’s what it is,” Seonghwa concedes sarcastically.
“Just don’t make any unannounced visits to my classroom anytime soon, you buffoon,” Yunho chastises him while pressing his cup to his lips, “And I’m serious.”
“You got that,” San yields, “Wouldn’t wanna be a cock-block.”
Yunho nearly spits his coffee, “I beg your pardon?”
San nearly doubles over in laughter and, to Yunho’s surprise, Seonghwa has joined in. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the look they’re sharing and it makes the back of his neck burn with heat. Yunho doesn’t know why he’s so embarrassed but he steers the conversation away from discussing you any further. He ignores the feeling of indignation and possessiveness pooling in the pit of his stomach.
It doesn’t take long for you to decide you’ve done what needed to be done outside of the classroom; the cherry on top now was simply to get him alone more privately.
You didn’t have to try very hard for this to happen; your work on your paper outline was already sub-par at best. You did fairly well on the quizzes and packets he passed out once a week, but that final paper preparation was surely going to be a challenge. When you find enough courage in yourself to email him about seeing him during his office hours for extra academic help on formatting your paper and choosing a more concise topic, he replies quickly and enthusiastically. According to your syllabus, the topic should relate to what you’re studying for your degree, but the real meat and potatoes of the paper should incorporate an aspect of linguistics in relation to your career path. Yunho understands how something like this can be difficult to tackle, so he assures you not to worry and that you both will work on perfecting it in no time.
“Mr. Jeong, do you mind if I text you instead? It’s more convenient for me than to email,” you end up asking him at the end of class on a Friday.
Yunho doesn’t mind this and he says so; he's put his phone number on the syllabus for situations like this. Moreover, he doesn’t think anything of it when he receives a text from you the morning of your first session telling him good morning and saying that you’re excited to finally get some guidance. You follow up by asking how he likes his coffee, and if he prefers muffins or donuts. Even after this indicator, he’s still surprised that you show up at his office right on time at 10 AM on Monday with two fresh cups of coffee and a couple of things from the campus bakery.
His office is fairly small, but not enough to feel uncomfortable. He’s decorated it to his liking though to make it feel a little more homely on the days he has to stay late for one reason or another. He watches you marvel at his space before you set down everything in your hands and relieve yourself of your backpack.
“Good morning!”
“Good morning ____, welcome in,” Yunho smiles. “You’re very punctual.”
“Of course, I meant what I said about being excited,” you tell him honestly, settling into the seat in front of his desk, “The right one is yours, by the way.”
Yunho timidly thanks you before sliding it closer to himself. He’s never had a student do something for him like this, then again he hasn’t been teaching that long to begin with. Regardless, he appreciates it and the gesture goes straight to his heart. He takes a sip to emphasize this.
“I’m all ready when you are,” you proclaim, clasping your hands together.
With that, he begins to look through his folders for your class number and finds the topic idea and outlines you’ve submitted previously. He doesn’t even have to look for your name specifically, you always tend to write his name and your class section in a particular way on the top of your work that is very appealing and oddly unique.
“You have really pretty handwriting,” Yunho murmurs out absentmindedly when he finds it. When he lifts his head to see your intrigued eyes gazing back at him, he clears his throat and adds, “Mine looks like chicken scratch so I’m always fascinated by others.”
“As long as it’s legible, that’s all that matters,” you hum with a smile, “And I can read yours just fine, so you’re fine.”
Yunho’s not sure why that mild compliment, something that should probably be insignificant, steals his words from him for a moment. Instead, he offers a hum in place of thanks while quickly taking another sip of his coffee. He glances at his notes before speaking again.
“Okay, so when I reviewed your work, it seems like you generally have a solid topic,” he begins, “It’s definitely something that can be a bit more concise, but it’s fine. The problem is that you’re trying to incorporate too much into the paper as a whole.”
You nod in understanding, so he takes a sip of coffee and continues.
“That’s good and bad, for a couple of reasons. It’s good that you’re being ambitious and trying to give lots of information. This shows me that you’re planning on doing a lot of research and you’re going to be very knowledgeable about your topic,” Yunho cocks his head, “If you set yourself up like this, though, your paper will end up being over twenty pages easily. And we both don’t want that, right?”
He gives you a knowing look, and you can’t help the candid snort you let out at his frankness, “Definitely not, oh God. I’m so sorry.”
“Precisely. So, let’s work on cutting some of these sections out and conjoining some of these bullet points in others. Sound good?” He holds out his hand with a grin as if to make it a deal, and you grant him a firm shake.
After a considerable amount of time figuring out which parts of your paper to chop without losing the vision, Yunho feels his limbs tighten from sitting too long. He’s been in this chair since 9 AM, so he asks, “Can we take a quick break? I need to stretch a bit.”
“Of course!”
When he stands to full height and stretches his arms, your eyes inconspicuously survey the way the edge of the desk lines up right with his pelvis. Perfect height for extracurricular activities… You wonder if he’s the type of guy to be open to something like that, fucking his lover in his office. Surely this thing is sturdy enough to withstand it, you muse. The thought of him bending you over the desk just to prove how sturdy it is makes you rub your thighs together. You decide to chug the rest of your now-cold coffee to get your brain back on track. Yunho collapses back into his office chair gently and lets you know he’s ready to resume. The rest of the time is spent setting up a list of some things you could tweak when you go home on your own and prepare for him to view in a couple of days.
On Wednesday, for your second meeting, you both convene at his office directly after your class with him in the afternoon. You smell especially good today, a mix of jasmine, vanilla, and something else he can’t put his tongue on… but it’s got Yunho’s head a bit foggy. Still, the meeting is engaging and brimming with useful help just as the last. Leaning back in his chair, he takes a brief moment to review a printout of what you’ve implemented into your outline from your last meeting discussions. It’s definitely already an improvement, but there are still a few things that could be tweaked in terms of sectioning. He grabs his favorite pen and lays your papers out in front of you, leaning forward to mark things you should be mindful of. A circle here, a quick jotted note there—his soothing voice explains each eagerly, and you can tell just how much he loves this subject by his enthusiasm. You reply to all of his criticism and suggestions with just as much enthusiasm. Yunho finds himself leaning in a little closer than might be suitable for the circumstances, but his brain is still ensnared by your perfume. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing, truthfully, but it doesn’t bother you a bit. In fact, you’re a little too enamored with watching his large hands grip his pen and flex while writing to notice he’s calling your name.
“____?” he calls for a second time, to which you finally meet his gaze while blinking bashfully. “You okay?”
“I’m sorry, I think I spaced out for a second,” you answer honestly. He is absolutely too close to you right now and the way you can see the details in his eyes is making your brain short-circuit. He finally sits back in his chair and chuckles warmly.
“We have been working for quite a while today, I’m sure it’s a lot of information. Maybe we should wrap up for the day and meet again next week? I’m a bit tied up on Friday,” he ponders. You can’t help the hint of disappointment that makes its way onto your face, and he notices. There’s this unusual feeling in his chest right now; why does he feel regret for his stupid schedule? He leans forward on his elbows and cocks his head, “You’re doing very well, you know that? We’ve made a lot of progress after only a couple of meetings. I’m very excited to see how this comes together at the end of the semester.”
“I’m very self-conscious about my writing, so I appreciate that, Mr. Jeong,” you confess with a sheepish smile.
“You have nothing to be stressed about, I love what I’ve seen so far,” he continues his praise, “And I’m very happy you’re in my class, ____.”
The smile he gives you after such a statement manifests dozens of butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t help but match it. These one-on-one sessions go on 2-3 days a week for about two more weeks, loosening him up to you. He successfully becomes much more casual and unfiltered in your presence before you decide to up the ante. The following Tuesday of the next week, you remain on campus fairly late after classes end for the day, seated on a bench near the parking lot you both share. It’s warm outside even with the sun gradually setting, and you spend the time mentally rehearsing exactly what you planned on saying when he arrives to leave for home. He should be here any minute now–
“_____?”
You spin around at the familiar voice calling out your name. It’s him, of course, coming from the staff meeting you found out was being held this evening. Finally , you think. He stops just short of where you’re perched on the bench.
“Oh, hello Mr. Jeong.”
“What are you doing out here so late?” He inquires quickly, and there’s a tinge of concern laced in his voice. However, he realizes that asking this might be out of the realm of things he should know, you’re a grown woman after all. So, he follows up with an excuse, “It’s getting pretty dark out.”
“It’s a bit embarrassing,” you mutter, glancing away from his gaze.
Yunho can’t deny, he’s a bit mesmerized by the way you look tonight. He’s never seen you with your make-up done up like this, or your hair styled so charmingly. When you glance back at him again with those long, fluttering lashes of yours, he feels the back of his neck turn hot.
“You can tell me anything, you already know,” he reminds you, “I won’t judge and I’m always available to listen.”
“Well… I have a reservation for dinner with someone at six… but it seems they stood me up,” you reveal while mindlessly fiddling with a frayed string on the skirt of your dress. Yunho glances down at his watch: it’s 5:48 PM. “They were supposed to pick me up a while ago. I was trying to hold out some hope, but… I’m just being stupid.”
Yunho furrows his brows; why would someone stand a girl like you up? You’re beautiful and exceptionally smart (despite any kind of trouble you may have had with your paper). You’re also one of the sweetest people he’s ever crossed paths with in life. Many of those paths having been crossed within the last month, of course. Still, he can’t fathom it.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, ____,” he tells you truthfully. Then, he thinks about how your car isn’t here, and how the shuttle won’t be around until 6:30 PM. He’s slightly apprehensive before offering, “Do you want a ride home?”
You give him a winsome smile that pierces into his heart with an invisible arrow, “You don’t have to do that. I appreciate the offer though.”
“No, really, I don’t mind at all,” he says with more confidence. The idea of him being your knight in shining armor, buried deep in the back of his head, is shouting at him. That’s when you decide it’s time to take your shot, for better or worse.
“Well, in that case, would you like to accompany me to the restaurant instead?” you inquire, glancing up at him curiously. “I already paid for the spot, so I wouldn’t want the reservation to go to waste.”
Normally, you’d follow up a statement like that with a: “But it’s okay if not.”
Not tonight.
You didn’t want to give him an out to this proposal willingly. You can see the mild indecisiveness in his face anyway, all the way down to how Yunho’s hand tightens around the handle of his briefcase. You did get all dolled up for whoever you were supposed to be spending the evening with, and he’ll feel awfully bad letting you go back home to take it all off for no reason. It’s just a dinner, he tells himself.
“Sure,” Yunho finally says in an exhale, “Let me pull around my car.”
While he walks off into the parking lot towards his car, you bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop the dishonest smile that’s threatening to spread across your face. Was it all a bald-faced lie? Of course it was! But, sometimes it takes some white lies to get to what you want, and what you wanted was no longer that far out of reach if tonight was anything to go by.
When he finally pulls around to pick you up, you allow yourself to slip into the mode you usually go to on dates. It doesn’t hurt to pretend tonight, it’s like manifesting your reality. You thrum your fingers against your bare thighs, to no particular beat, while staring out of the car window at other passing cars during your brief trip on the highway.
“Is this a restaurant you’ve been to before? It looked really nice online,” Yunho eventually says into the silence, trying to make small talk. He had briefly skimmed the reviews while plugging the address in on his phone.
“I haven’t, actually,” you divulge, going further, “I’m a bit of a foodie, you know? I like to try new places occasionally.”
That conversation flows smoothly for the rest of the drive, and even smoother when you both are seated and eating dinner in a booth towards the back of the restaurant. It’s nice to see him in a more relaxed setting.
“Thank you for joining me tonight, Mr. Jeong.” You offer him some well-deserved gratitude as you wipe your mouth, signaling the end of your eating. “Makes things a lot less embarrassing tonight for sure.”
“No need to thank me, I enjoyed your company,” he smiles. He doesn’t even hesitate this time before adding, “That bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”
The bubbly laugh and adorable smile you grant him the experience of witnessing enraptures him, the tips of his ears burning at the thought of how he wants to be able to produce that from you again and again. Yunho hasn’t been on a date in a while, so he’s sure this feeling is just because he’s attention-deprived. Still, it’s something he notes mentally. And, even though some might consider it inappropriate, you and your teacher both began having dinner occasionally, just like that. Platonically, of course.
“We can go over my questions for my paper topic here rather than in that cramped office of yours, you know?”
Surprisingly when you proposed this, he showed little resistance to the idea. Yunho enjoyed getting out of the house for the evenings he usually spent alone with a few beers and a Netflix series. He enjoyed having a pretty girl keep him company even more. He reminds himself every time he picks you up, though, that this is simply work and nothing more. Just some overtime—helping a student who enjoyed his class get better at the material. It’s not meant to be enjoyable.
But after the first few times of these “informational paper related” meetings, conversations involving anything to do with linguistics slowly molded into Yunho placing a nimble finger to his lips to say a silent shhh, followed by, “Let’s not talk about schoolwork tonight, okay?”
That moment, when you noticed that slight shift in Yunho’s energy, the atmosphere from there turned more informal. You become more conscious of those important invisible lines between student and teacher— or even more teacher and friend— that have begun to blur significantly. “Good evening Mr. Jeong,” became, “Le’me taste your food, Yunho?”
To which he never declines, naturally.
Tonight, on the 5th dinner, the climate between you both plows further into the downward spiral of informality, warm and fairly flirtatious. At least, that’s what you surmise by the way he keeps openly teasing you this evening. It’s all innocuous banter, but that doesn’t quell the adoration you hold for him in the pit of your stomach. It’s enough to make your thighs clench together underneath the table. You finally decide to shamelessly reciprocate, teasing him about the way his hair is going every which way tonight. You emphasize how the style is still very handsome despite him looking like he’s been through hell and back.
“I was having a pretty bad day today until I remembered where I was going tonight actually,” Yunho divulges, pushing the wrinkly sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. He truly has been through hell and back today, between snooty older teachers and idiot freshmen both treating him like he’s a student just because of his age, “These kinds of nights with you always make my day, so it’s been saved.”
A playful smile tugs at your lips as you cock your head, “Is it the food or is it the company?”
He leans forward on his forearms with a prepossessing smile, one that makes your heart thump loudly in your ears.
“Both, of course,” he teases again, “I suppose the food is just a bonus, though.”
He takes notice of the way your cheeks are dusted in pink as you shyly avert your eyes and locks that innocent image into a deep chamber of his mind along with all the others. He practically has a photo album saved mentally. It’s not too long until the food comes, and things become all about eating. A fair amount of time into your dinner, you decide to add a new element to your dynamic.
“Do you mind if I drink a little tonight?” you inquire quietly while your eyes skim the wine menu briefly. Not like you were going to care about his answer, but it was simply fun to ask. He chuckles.
“You’re an adult,” he points out instead. You smile to yourself before meeting his eyes from behind the menu. There’s something especially curious tonight behind those dark irises of his. The unfamiliar stare he gives you from behind his bangs is accompanied by a subtle smirk that makes your stomach tie into tight knots.
You turn away your eyes until you’re able to catch the attention of your waiter once more. In the process of requesting a glass of some Cabernet Sauvignon, you hesitate before saying the name of which brand because of the price tag for one glass, but most risks are pricey and tonight you felt like splurging for the reward in return: releasing your inhibitions. The waiter turns towards Yunho to confirm if he’d like to add anything before he leaves.
“Bring a bottle of that instead, please. We’ll share,” he requests alternatively. It takes all of your strength not to look at him like he’s crazy as the waiter nods and heads off to fetch it.
“It’s on me tonight,” Yunho beats you to the punch on declaring anything about his decisions.
“You don’t even know the price of it.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he quips back with a chuckle, “Are you suggesting I can’t afford it?”
“Yunho…”
“Don’t even give me that, ____.”
The way he blithely says your first name with a different warmth now always causes your heart to swell in your chest. All formality is truly gone between you two. You both share matching smiles in place of any further words about the matter.
When the waiter returns briefly with a freshly opened bottle of wine and two glasses, you both offer him words of gratitude before he slips away once more. Yunho wastes no time pouring you both a proper amount, sighing contently when finished. You lift your glass towards him and grin once more, “Cheers?”
“Cheers.”
Yunho surely got his money’s worth, because the bottle is gone between you both quickly, signaling the end of your dinner as well. You don’t feel the few glasses fully set in until Yunho is helping you out of the booth, your legs feeling akin to a newborn baby deer as you bashfully stumble into his arms. You suppose your food wasn’t as carb-heavy as usual tonight. You’re not drunk, but surely you’re not sober either. He doesn’t mind holding you steady on the way out of the restaurant, a guiding hand timidly pressed to the small of your back.
As much as you despise the thought of driving under the influence, it’s pouring an insane amount of rain upon exit of the restaurant and Yunho insists he’s fine enough to drive. The dilemma that arises is how your place is further than he has confidence in making it to in this storm while inebriated. You know just as well as he does that there’s no way he’s driving you home tonight.
“I have a spare bedroom,” he begins, and glances over at you, hoping you understand what he means because he’s not sober enough to come up with the words to ask you otherwise. The pouring water is making it hard for him to keep his eyes open but he doesn’t miss the feigning look of indecision in your eyes. He tries to ignore the way the rain has soaked through your dress enough to make it plaster your body. It accentuates every contour of your figure, from the rounds of your breasts down to your supple thighs. When the boom of thunder somewhere far off fills the silence after his proposal faster than you do, he panics slightly.
“I can get you an Uber if—”
“You already paid for an expensive bottle tonight, don’t waste more money on an Uber,” you grasp onto his arm fondly, sopping breasts squished into his bicep. Your lips curl into a soft smile at his attempt at chivalry though, “I’ll be fine. Let’s hurry though, okay? I’m cold.”
That statement is followed by a sharp shiver running down your back, and that’s enough for him to drag you along with him to his car with quick, but careful, steps.
Surprisingly, Yunho lives in a townhouse. You’re very thankful not to have to walk up the stairs of a condo. He thanks God there’s an empty parking space in front of his house, he hates when the tiny lot fills up before he gets home. You both prepare yourselves before rushing out of the car and to his front door.
Your hazy eyes train themselves on his pretty, slender fingers fiddling with the doorknob before he finally gets it open. Those same fingers grab your hand and pull you through his front door with him mindlessly. Another chill immediately runs down your spine at the cool AC blasting through his home, which he immediately runs off to turn down.
“Both bedrooms have bathrooms with showers,” Yunho sputters while quickly heading off to find you a towel and some spare clothes for which you could sleep in.
While you’re still peeling your drenched shoes and socks off, he settles on a fresh t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants since it’s still a bit chilly in the house. You try not to track too much water through his home while you journey through his living room and meet him halfway.
“I’ll shower in the guest room,” you tell him, taking the items.
He runs an anxious hand through the wet hair sticking to his forehead, “I can also dry your clothes if you leave them on the bed.”
“Fuck, that’s great,” you sigh with a smile, stepping past him but cocking your head back to add, “Wait about five minutes before you come grab them, I should be in the shower by then.”
Just as you requested, Yunho comes into the room a little over five minutes later when he hears the shower running. His eyes confirm that the bathroom door is closed for your privacy before grabbing your wet clothes and retreating to his laundry room down the hall. He chucks them all in his dryer and runs it on medium heat and maximum dryness. While that’s running, he busies himself with running to his bedroom and speedrunning his shower to ensure he’s out before you. He’s a man on a mission, pulling on clothes and towel-drying his hair before rushing to the laundry room to get your clothes.
Yunho pulls your garments from the dryer one by one, making sure there’s nothing left wet. He stops when he pulls something out that catches his eyes. Your underwear. He’s quite enticed by them, even if they were pastel pink with turtles... Hot, he thinks sarcastically. Yunho eyes the crotch curiously and remembers that technically he didn’t wash your clothes at all. It’s been a while since he’s had a girl over his home and that, on top of the thought of even holding your underwear, is taking a small toll on him. He gives in and puts them to his nose, breathing in deeply.
Oh God … Even after they've been soaked in rain, your scent is still heavy on the fabric. He groans, why did you have to smell so fucking good? He remembers that you are quite literally right down the hall while he's here sniffing your underwear like a pervert. It’s your fault, right? Yeah, it’s your fault for trusting him with such a sensitive piece of clothing by himself. It’s your fault for smelling so good and looking so pretty and—
He gives up on rationalizing it and presses the clothing fully onto his face again, inhaling heavily and feeling himself grow harder and harder by the second. His arousal grows worse and worse, precum dampening his underwear with every deep inhale and fluttering thought of what you probably taste like… He finds his hand mindlessly palming himself, and luckily his groans are muffled by the underwear bunched up in his face. That’s when he hears the water shut off.
Yunho whispers a handful of obscenities as he hurries to the room to place your dried clothes on the bed while you’re still in the bathroom, closing the door behind him softly. He’s long gone by the time you step out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.
Normally, you’d stay in the shower until your fingertips are pruney, but you suppose being a good guest includes not using up all of his hot water. There were more pressing things to attend to anyway, like the tall attractive man patiently awaiting your presence outside of this room. So, when you tug on your now dry panties and his previously provided clothing, you quickly make your way out of the room and to the living room. You’re not exactly sure what you expected upon seeing him, but he’s indeed still exceptionally handsome freshly out of the shower. Those same curious eyes gaze at you behind his shaggy bangs, still in the process of drying. Clad in a simple white t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, his biceps and strong thighs are fully on display as he lounges on the couch. The way his long legs are man-spread now that he’s comfortable in his own abode makes you swallow a little harder than usual. Still, you meander over and sit on the other side of the couch, not too far away.
“Your place is very nice,” you state absentmindedly, glancing around at the walls of his home. “Very fit for a bachelor.”
Without you noticing, Yunho’s eyes skillfully study the way you’re so casually in his clothing. You’re too busy glancing around at unnecessary things anyway; he wonders if you’re rambling about his decor because you’re nervous. He’s nervous too, but not for the right reasons. Regardless, seeing you in his clothing is taking an additional toll on his mental health. How did you both end up in this situation together… This is wrong, he thinks. He shakes his head to try and clear those corrupted thoughts from his mind. It isn’t until you realize he hasn’t replied to anything in a couple of minutes of you jabbering that you finally peer over at him. His eyes are trained on the short distance between the both of you, mindlessly chewing on the nail of his thumb.
“You okay?” you ask, finally catching his attention.
He nods hastily, “Definitely. Sorry, it’s been a long day. Mind is on empty.”
“You’re fine, no worries.”
It’s uncomfortably quiet for a moment as you both exchange stares. You’re seconds away from breaking the silence before Yunho steals the chance.
“I’m sure you’re tired, so we can head to bed,” he suddenly exhales, hands clasping his thighs, “The guest room is all yours for as long as you need it.”
You take the chance and lean forward toward him on your palms at this statement, slightly sinking into the couch while you gaze at him, “Is that what you really want, Yunho?”
There’s now an even longer moment of silence where you both stare each other in the eyes again and the room is unbearably quiet. Yunho finally breaks it after his Adam’s apple bobs uneasily.
“Of course,” he awkwardly chuckles with furrowed brows, “What do you mean, ____?”
Your heart deflates. For a second, you wonder if maybe you’ve been reading his body language incorrectly the entire night. There’s a flare of embarrassment that ignites on your cheeks as you immediately retract yourself.
“I suck at making jokes,” you match his chuckle nervously, “Don’t mind me.” He cocks his head at you curiously and you stand to your feet before he can catch the way your face is lighting on fire with every passing second. You avoid looking at him as you begin striding back to the guest room, “Goodnight Yunho, see you in the morning!”
Yunho is left alone to his own devices once he hears the sound of the door to the guest room closing down the hall. Sitting alone on a large bed in your teacher’s home feels surreal, and all too disappointing the same. You press your palms to your eyes to try and settle the embarrassment that keeps washing over you every time you think back to your impromptu attempt at making an advance toward him. God this fucking sucks…
After a few minutes of setting up some alarms on your phone for the next morning, you decide you need to go get some water and wash away tonight from your mind forever. Yunho Jeong doesn’t like you more than a friend, it’s time to accept your fate and that you failed at attracting him. To be fair, it all was a shot in the dark to begin with. You try not to be too hard on yourself and hope that he’s already in his room by now.
But, if that’s all truly the case, then why is Yunho standing in front of the guest room door when you open it? His arm is positioned as if he was about to knock. Yunho had been standing there for quite some minutes, debating his next actions in his head, overthinking as usual. Though, could it be considered overthinking if the consequences of his actions could lead to delinquency? Had you not opened the door to go get water, albeit unknowingly, he probably would’ve psyched himself out.
“Oh– Did you need something?” you mumble and look up inquisitively at him. His mouth lingers open for a few seconds before he learns how to speak again.
“Can we talk?”
“Of course.” You can’t help the hint of confusion gracing your face as you step aside and allow him inside the room, “Is everything okay?”
When you close the door and face him, he looks distraught. Everything was indeed not okay.
“Are you still drunk?” He asks first.
“I don’t really think I was ever drunk,” you tell him, “But no.”
“Neither am I.”
At first, it doesn’t click about why he’s confirming this. You also don’t notice the way he gradually takes tentative steps forward—or the way you’re equally taking steps back—until your back hits the bedroom door. He’s so close that you can smell the minty mouthwash still fresh on his breath unfurling over your face. Still, he looks hesitant about his actions.
“I’m sorry, I was just… nervous before,” he swallows. He watches your face shift from confusion to realization; he’s referring to his response when you shot your shot. You relax against the door.
“About?” Is all you can ask in a soft voice, left hand daringly reaching up and cupping his cheek.
“About drunken words,” he continues, his voice just above a whisper. You can see the stutter of his heart against his chest. “And my feelings.”
Your thumb brushes his bottom lip, “What are you feeling, Yunho?”
In a moment of fleeting courage, he gently grabs your right hand and leads it to settle below his groin, pressing it against him a bit for good measure.
“What does it feel like I’m feeling to you?”
Your cheeks heat up at the feeling of him in your palm; you didn’t expect him to be so forward about it out of nowhere. The overall anticipation of the situation is killing you, even though everything feels like it’s moving too slowly and too fast all at the same time. All of your effort was leading to this point and yet, somehow, you still don’t feel nearly as prepared as you thought you were to finally fuck him, to finally fuck your teacher. That doesn’t stop your cunt from clenching around nothing at all at his words alone, because this is definitely what you’ve wanted so badly for weeks.
You try to swallow even though your throat feels parched, mindlessly whispering, “Oh my God…”
Then, you give him an experimental squeeze which has his eyelids fluttering closed, and a deep grunt leaving his flared nostrils.
“Fuck …” he groans. It’s too natural, the way you subconsciously run your hand up and down the bulge, feeling it harden even further. Yunho is at his wit's end. “I need you to tell me exactly what you want ____,” he reminds you.
You get it, he’s covering his bases because of his relation to you outside of this bedroom. Consent is sexy regardless, so you grant that to him.
“I really, really want you to fuck me Yunho,” you purr as your hands creep up his chest until you can wrap your arms around his neck, “And I think you want the same, right?”
Yunho’s hands sneak under the t-shirt on you and he massages the flesh of your sides, fingertips ghosting up your skin until they reach your breasts. His thumbs brushing against your hard nipples involuntarily make you whimper his name, and this is all Yunho needs to hear to proceed without such caution. The moment he leans down and smashes his lips to yours, time stops.
It’s nasty, the way your tongues are dragging against each other, spreading trails of saliva everywhere.
It’s nasty, the way he can’t help but drag that same tongue down your neck, sullying your freshly washed skin with spit.
It’s even nastier, the way he moans out your name, shamelessly grinding his clothed boner into your crotch, searching for friction because he’s touch-starved.
“A-Ah—wait! Bed, please,” you let out a broken moan at the way he sucks and bites on your neck. Yunho grunts in agreement, spinning you around and forcefully guiding you back until you both reach the bed. You can’t help but giggle when you fall back on the mattress— he’s so hungry for it, for you. And you’re more than ready to give it to him.
“Can I take them off?” He still asks like a gentleman, though his fingers are impatiently already tugging at the bottom of your sweatpants. You nod with fervor.
The moment he tosses them away, the situation begins to feel a bit more real to you both. Maybe it’s because you’re sopping wet and semi-exposed, and he’s not, so you become bashful and self-conscious.
“Take yours off too?”
Yunho doesn’t hesitate to oblige you. He peels off his shirt and shoves his shorts away easily. There’s a brief second where he hesitates before also pulling his boxer briefs down and finally fully exposing himself to you in all his nude glory. Yunho hasn’t slept with a woman in a while, but he’s never had complaints about anything, and especially not his size. He can tell by how your eyes are drinking him in, that you won’t have any either.
“You’re so handsome, you know that?” you murmur, eyes hazy as they rake over him from his broad chest to his defined abs, then his defined hips to his heavy cock. There’s a cute hue of pink dusting his cheeks at the compliment.
Yunho doesn’t give you a chance to stare at him very much longer before he’s finally ridding you of your shirt, lips meeting yours again the moment it’s tossed. It’s not long before that naughty mouth of his indulges in your breasts, licking and sucking on your hardened nipples like they’re the only thing that will keep him grounded to earth. You’re a moaning mess underneath of him, hands carding through his tresses and lips struggling with telling him how much you love his mouth. He could suck on your beautiful breasts all day but there are more pressing matters at this time.
His eyes never leave yours as he kisses all the way down the expanse of your stomach to the waistband of your panties. Only then does he close his eyes to bury his face in your clothed cunt and take a deep breath, filling his lungs until they feel like they're about to burst. He’s so content that now he can do it knowing the real thing is right underneath. It gets him hard all the same as the laundry room. You watch him grind himself into the mattress for some relief just at the smell of you.
“I’ve never done something like this before,” he divulges, pressing heated kisses into the skin of your sensitive thighs.
“What, eating pussy?” you tease to ease his nerves. He stares pointedly at you from behind your mound.
“You know what I mean.”
Your hand reaches down to find a comforting purchase in his hair, “Neither have I, Yu.”
Yunho can feel himself falling apart faster and faster, and the nickname is not helping him keep it together at all. He hooks his fingers in your panties and gently tugs them down your legs, joining the rest of the discarded clothing on the floor. Your cheeks tingle with heat when his hands spread your legs wider, eyes seemingly mesmerized.
“Such a pretty pussy…” he whispers, marveling at the way your sticky lips tremble when you clench around nothing.
He solves that by pushing in two of those pretty fingers of his, all the way down to the last knuckles. The desperate moan that flies from your lips sends him into a depraved headspace. He immediately latches his mouth onto your throbbing clit and sets to work, thrusting into your squelching squeezing heat and sucking to his heart’s content. Yunho loves eating pussy, truly. There’s something truly cathartic to him about holding a woman’s legs down while she twitches and grinds against his face as he’s slurping up every bit of essence that seeps from her greedy hole. He even removes his fingers and opts for lapping at your heat like a starved man instead. Up and down, left and right… His tongue leaves no inch of your heat untouched. He loves the feeling of your slick coating his face when he pushes his tongue as deep as he can into your hole. He feels your hands yank him by his hair before he can even get to the fun part. He gazes up at you in confusion, mouth messy and eyes indubitably pussy-drunk.
“Please,” you beg, chest heaving, “I want you inside.”
Yunho licks his lips clean before crawling back up your body to fulfill your request. You’re right honestly, there’s only so much grinding he can do into the mattress to ease the ache of his hard cock. He leans over to grab a condom from the nightstand but you pull him back over, mumbling about how you’re on the pill and that it’s fine.
He’s so big, the way he’s engulfing your whole body with you caged between his arms like this. Gazing into your eyes, he drags the blunt tip of his cock back and forth through your dripping folds, occasionally pressing it hard against that clit that he’s taken such a liking to sucking on.
“Hey,” you mumble against his lips, catching the full attention of his blown-out irises. “I can tell you’re nervous. Just relax and lose control, for me. Okay?”
Yunho’s last rope of restraint snaps.
The moment you feel his tip finally breach your entrance, you squeeze your eyes shut and mewl at the feeling of his thick cock sliding into its rightful place. Yes, obviously he’s meant just for your cunt, because you fit like a glove when you're swallowing him in so badly the deeper he pushes. He doesn’t stop until he’s buried to the hilt, despite your squirming and twitching underneath him at the feeling of being so full.
“I’m about to move,” he pants, adjusting to the feeling of your warm walls squeezing his cock, “Holy fuck.”
When you nod, he finally lets go of his inhibitions. He begins to roll his hips at a nice steady pace, large hands clasped to the backs of your thighs as he pushes them towards your torso. His mouth hangs open in ecstasy and his eyelids lower lazily at the way your walls suck in his cock so tightly and squeeze it like they’re begging to be filled to the brim. You reach up and latch onto his arms to ground yourself, head dizzy and overwhelmed at the feeling of him starting to snap his hips just a little faster now that you’re stretched out a bit more to accommodate him.
“Yunho, fuck, you’re so big,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. Yunho grinds his pelvis into you at this remark, rubbing against your clit with his happy trail.
“And you’re taking me so well,” Yunho praises with a lopsided grin, “Feels good?”
“So fucking good.”
Yunho pushes your legs back even further as he leans in to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss. You’re so pretty with those glassy eyes and those flushed cheeks of yours, but there’s something about that that quivering bottom lip that makes him want to suck every sound from you himself. He finds himself bucking faster and faster, unable to maintain any kind of self-control.
He breaks away to catch his breath, eyes lazy as he groans, “Let me hear you. This is what you wanted, yeah?”
“Mhm, yes, yes,” you whine desperately, “I wanted it so bad. Wanted you so bad.”
You grant him a flurry of shameless bitten-off moans, egging him on further and further. Yunho buries his face into the crook of your neck, making your skin damp between his own warm gasps and grunting obscenities. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this aroused before; yes, he’s so painfully hard at the fleeting thoughts of how inappropriate everything is. He’s your linguistics teacher—he’s not supposed to be teaching your cunt how to mold to the shape of his cock. He’s not supposed to be massaging your clit and babbling nonsense about how he’s going to lick your pussy clean when you cum. How can he say that to a student? However, his eyes roll back at that thought.
“I’m going crazy,” he groans into your skin, mindlessly speaking his thoughts aloud. “I’m so close.”
You’d say the same if you could, but your mouth can’t form proper words with the way his long fingers are rubbing quick messy circles around your clit. Instead, you put your mouth on the shell of his ear and say his name in a filthy mewl. Your legs tense up and your toes curl; Yunho can feel you cum around his cock a beat later, encouraging your convulsing and whimpering. He can only manage to give you a few more rough thrusts before he pulls himself out and allows himself to empty his balls in quick spurts all over your torso, a mix of “fuck” and “____” leaking from his mouth at how filthy the action is, dirtying you like this. He’s a man of his word though, quickly hefting himself back down to your sopping cunt and diving face first to taste everything he missed tasting earlier. The groan of pure bliss he lets out into your sensitive cunt has you squirming away, much to his dismay. But he finds himself chuckling anyway—he got to taste your cum and, even if it was for only a few seconds, he’s satisfied.
Cleaning up and cuddling after is far from awkward, Yunho feels comfortable with his arms wrapped around you and head on your chest. You find yourself mindlessly scratching his scalp and playing with his messy hair, while his large hands massage the muscles of your thighs. It’s immensely intimate, and this scares Yunho deep inside. Unbeknownst to his stress, you’re settling into a mental state of bliss; you can’t wait to see where this night leads you after, even if it might be a little awkward back in the classroom at first. He tries not to dwell on such thoughts for too long, eventually falling asleep under your touch.
Yunho wakes up to a cold, empty bed. Glancing over at the clock on his nightstand, he catches some time he can’t be bothered with reading fully, nine-something-in-the-morning. He groans internally at the bittersweet arrival of the morning. After a few seconds of just lying there, bleary eyes staring at anything and everything, he remembers that he’s not supposed to be alone right now. The grimace that crosses his face is heavy.
He lugs himself up and out of bed to find his phone, which he’s left God knows where. After a bit of searching, he’s even more upset to see a lack of text from you about leaving. Leaving with no word after sex… Yunho has been in this position before and it makes him feel like shit. It feels even worse considering that this is not just some random woman, you are his student. He’s a chronic overthinker, he knows he is. Yet, he can’t stop his mind from filling with a plethora of miserable thoughts about what this could mean.
Did you simply want to fuck him and nothing more?
Did you regret sleeping with him and want to leave without confrontation?
Did you sleep with him to then leave and tell someone, maybe to humiliate him?
All of these thoughts scream at Yunho until he finds himself clenching his jaw, and tears are pricking at his eyes. He hates this feeling every time it happens; it makes him feel like he’s not good enough. In a moment of brief irrationality, Yunho debates if he should outright block you.
He’s impulsive like that when he’s worked up. However, after a few minutes of begging himself to calm down, he tossed his phone away and went on to make a cup of tea to ease his agitation. He knew this was a mistake from the start and he still did it.
He doesn’t get a text from you until after 11 AM.
[Y/N: sorry for leaving without saying anything!! I forgot I had prior commitments this morning, didn’t wanna text you until I was sure you’d be up. hope you slept well :)]
Yunho doesn’t know what to think. Prior commitments? Surely this would’ve been something you would’ve mentioned before he drove you to his home last night. It is Saturday though, so it’s plausible. He opens the message and leaves you on read instead.
Earlier this morning, you were certain Yunho must have completely tired himself out after sleeping with you because he failed to wake up when your alarms went off. You make a mental note that it only takes him cumming once to make him go comatose (and maybe a little wine to boot). You had left his place with no ill intentions, and your message was truthful. So, when you get left on read by him, it ignites a small flame of insecurity in you. You’re never one to double-text a man, but considering this is something you put a great amount of effort into getting to happen, you put your pride aside when you don't get a reply by the next day.
[Y/N: Wondering if you want to try a new restaurant after work tomorrow… Let me know if you’re interested!]
To your surprise, Yunho replies that he’s too busy. He doesn’t offer to reschedule for a better day, which isn’t like him. Instead of taking it too seriously and replying something disheartened, you let him know that you understand and to let you know if anything changes. He opens this message and doesn’t reply. You try again on Tuesday. This time, your inquiry is more succinct, no fluff.
[Y/N: Are you free Wednesday?]
He answers this similarly to the last attempt, maintaining that he’s too busy to see you that day as well. However, this text is more curt than the last. When you cave in and ask him which days he’s not busy, he leaves you on read, again.
[Y/N: Do you have a free moment to talk then?]
Yunho doesn’t open this text altogether, and the disgruntlement this stirs within you lingers in your system all day, even when you decide to go out with your friends to clear your mind.
Throughout his class with you the following day, you endure Yunho’s eyes practically boring into you at various points in time. It’s like an itch that can’t be scratched, nagging at your scalp while you keep your head downcast towards your laptop. Thoroughly, as distractions do, it keeps you on edge and unfocused throughout the whole lecture. It doesn’t help that Yeosang is out today, so you feel alone even surrounded by so many people.
At some point, during a quiet moment of everyone completing an individual assignment he had handed out, you glance up over the screen of your laptop and catch his attentive eyes gazing back. He gnaws on the nail of this thumb as he usually does when his brain is on overdrive, his eyes calmly lingering on the fixation of all his thoughts. Eventually, he turns them away and decides to focus on something else irrelevant involving his phone. Anything to take you off of his mind.
You quietly snicker to yourself and roll your eyes. So, he can play on his phone just fine during class but can’t find the time to text you and talk? Men will be men… If he just wanted to sleep with you and leave at that, he could at least tell you, you brood. You try not to let it get to you, but it’s hard to focus on anything for the last half hour of class. You don’t bother sticking around after and instead, preoccupy yourself by striking up a conversation with another acquaintance on the way out of the doors. Yunho notices the way you act like he doesn’t exist while leaving and it makes him a bit bitter. He knows it’s irrational, but you’ve really done a number on him, so he can’t help it.
On Thursday, you’re sick of the games altogether. Being the super sleuth you were at the beginning of this mess, you knew when Yunho typically went to his office in between classes to get grading done that he couldn’t do throughout the day. So, when you finish your mathematics class, you pack up your things quickly, knowing he should be roaming this same hall in very little time. There’s one thing–or person, you suppose–that you didn’t account for in this plan.
“You’re terrible at covering hickeys, you know,” Hongjoong chides, eyeing your messy job at applying makeup to your neck.
To be fair to yourself, you hadn’t realized Yunho had sucked one onto your skin the night you both slept together, and the dark blotch was too annoying to deal with every single day. You bruise too easily and they don’t go away fast enough. Admittedly, you had slacked off on the cover-up today. You chalk it up to secretly being in Fight Club, which you remind him, the number rule is to never talk about Fight Club! That, of course, was not a good enough reason for Hongjoong, and you regret that you didn’t acknowledge beforehand he would surely grill you endlessly about your recreational pastimes.
“Okay seriously, I just wore my choker too tight yesterday and it pinched my neck, that's all,” you explain as he quickly follows you out of the classroom. He squints at you with skeptical eyes, as if he is not believing any of the piping hot shit you’re serving him on a platter. Phase two was to gaze at him with winsome eyes, ones he was definitely familiar with. They always worked on Yeosang, but Hongjoong was harder to subdue.
“Don’t.”
“Joong, I’m telling you, there’s nothing more for me to answer here.”
You employ a small pout to boot.
“And you think I believe that?”
“I think you should believe it.”
He rolls his eyes in annoyance. Meanwhile, your eyes inconspicuously search for Yunho in the sea of classmates flooding the hallway; there was a very important conversation you had hyped yourself up to finally have with him. One that surely would not be done if it didn’t get done today, at this very moment. That would obviously fail to happen if Hongjoong kept pestering you with his concerns. Suddenly, your eyes spot the tail end of Yunho’s styled hair turning the corner and leaving the hallway. Goddammit!
“Joong, I really gotta go,” you say frantically and secure your backpack onto your back. His lips open slightly in puzzlement, but there’s nothing he can say before you’re already shoving people out of the way to make it through the hallway to follow him to his office.
You take the stairs while he takes the elevator to waste some time; hopefully, he'll be set up and comfortable by the time you get to his floor. When you make it to his office, he’s indeed already seated and filtering through sheets of work from students during the last class. You don’t bother knocking before entering; he hadn’t afforded you the comfort of manners lately, so neither would you.
Honestly, had anyone else burst into his office so unannounced like this, he might've cussed them out by accident. But before he can get any words out, you can see the physical shift from annoyance to puzzlement wash over his face as he realizes it’s you, then, genuine dread graces his face before downcasting his gaze.
“I need to talk to you,” you insist, “Now.”
He’s having a hard time even meeting your eyes when you’re speaking and it’s pissing you off tremendously.
“I’m a bit busy right now,” he sighs, now in the process of looking through his desk for a pen that works. “It’ll have to wait for another time.”
You ignore him entirely, “Why are you avoiding me, Yunho?”
“I’m not avoiding you,” Yunho quickly objects. “I’m just–”
“You’ve blown me off twice this week already,” you counter. “Now I can’t even come see you at your office?”
Yunho puts his head in his hands and tries to collect his thoughts. He’s too sensitive to handle this conversation with no preparation beforehand. Then again, the longer he keeps isolating, the longer he’s going to keep feeling like shit. He can hear the undertone of hurt in your words, but he’s only doing what’s best for you, right?
“The least you could do is give me a real reason,” you continue. He finally lifts his head and meets your frustrated eyes. “Just give me a real reason to and I’ll fuck-off all you want.”
“____, that night was a mistake,” he tells you simply. The look in his eyes says otherwise. You know he’s lying but it still feels like a punch in the gut.
“A mistake?”
“It’s something that shouldn’t have happened, and it was inappropriate of me to do that with you. Let’s just forget about it and move on, please.”
You furrow your brows in agitation, “You really feel that way?”
“I do,” he murmurs, eyes falling back to the papers in front of him. He visibly hesitates for the briefest moment before picking up his pen and resuming his grading. This feeling of rejection hurts a little more than usual. Why do you feel like a failure? Why do you feel like a fuck-up? Maybe it’s because of the effort you put into this man, unlike many others. You stand there in his doorway uncomfortably silent until you find it in yourself to offer some final words.
“We’re both adults, Yunho,” you remind him in a voice that airs on the more serious side of yourself. He’s never heard you sound such a way with him. “No one has to know what two grown adults do in their free time. And you don’t owe anyone any explanations.”
When he doesn’t look up from his paperwork anymore, you finally leave and gently close the door behind you.
Nearly a week after that day, your phone begins to ring while you’re out at a bar with friends. Yeosang’s nosy eyes catch the name on the screen and he gives you an incredulous look. His name still has a heart beside it and you haven’t updated him on anything regarding Yunho since telling him that you both were texting each other outside of class.
“What is he doing calling you at 9 PM, miss?” he teases as you move your phone to your lap, “Booty call?”
“Would you like to ask him yourself?” you snort.
“Boo, why can I never know anything–”
“Oh but when I mention the obvious hickey, I’m imagining things, huh?” Hongjoong interjects with narrowed eyes when he overhears you both bickering. “Who’s the mystery man?”
“It’s nobody,” both you and Yeosang say in unison.
Hongjoong quirks a brow at how you both are gazing at him with matching smiles, suspiciously. He lets it go quickly and instead butts into Mingi and his girlfriend’s conversation. By the time you glance at your phone, Yunho’s call has already gone fully unanswered. Subsequently, you chose not to return the call later when you’re done and home. You didn’t necessarily want to talk to someone who called such an intimate moment with you a mistake. And especially not intoxicated. If he wants to talk to me that bad, he’d just send whatever he needs to say in a text, you tell yourself. But, of course, those texts don’t come. Yunho doesn’t know how to express himself like that over message. However, after getting wasted, it takes everything within you not to text him first in a fit of overwhelming horniness. What’s the worst that could come from letting him know that you’re craving the feeling of that thick cock of his splitting you open, or how maybe this time you should test out your gag reflex? Yeosang knows you well enough to take your phone from you after a certain amount of shots, so you don’t get that opportunity anyway. God bless your best friend.
A couple of days later, you still find yourself unable to let things go. How can you when Yeosang brings it up any time you speak alone? For someone so sure you were making a huge mistake, he sure is desperate for the tea. It’s like he’s your frontline cheerleader (which he usually is anyway). If he found out you both fucked, surely he’d lose his mind.
“You can’t keep me in the dark, I’m still dying to know how much progress you’re making with Mr. Jeong after seeing him call you that night,” Yeosang pleads, “Have you both met up in private off of campus yet?”
“That’s classified info,” you state and try to stifle your subsequent laughter when you hear him grumble. You still hadn’t found it within yourself yet to tell him that your plan had failed. “You’ll know by if I pass this class or not.”
“Just a little hint, please? I’m on my knees.”
“Progress is being made, Yeo,” you disclose in a sing-song voice. Surely a little white lie wouldn’t hurt in the meantime, “He’s a very good conversationalist, you know. With that deep voice of his, and especially late at night.”
Yeosang groans in annoyance, “You’re killing me ____, I’m too curious! You didn’t entertain a single man at the bar, something juicy has to be happening.”
You debate on at least telling him about the extra study sessions you and Yunho had been having before things were soiled, the innocent stuff that he could gush and tease you over. But, just as you’re about to say something, he cuts you off unknowingly.
“Shit, Mingi’s calling. Le’me call you back,” Yeosang groans, and you offer a hum of affirmation before the line clicks. Maybe it’s for the best that you had been interrupted before you put your foot in your mouth.
You quickly fill the silence by shuffling one of your ‘Doing Chores’ playlists and focusing your mind on cooking the remainder of your dinner. A couple of minutes later, the chime of your phone interrupts your music. You continue to focus on stirring while your other hand carelessly presses the answer option.
“That was quick,” you giggle.
“Felt like forever to me,” a familiar, deep voice replies. You freeze and glance over to see Yunho’s name on the screen of your phone in place of your best friend’s.
Fuck.
“Good evening, Mr. Jeong,” you reply instead. “I thought you were someone else, my apologies.”
“Have we really already reverted back to the formalities?” he sighs and his voice already sounds a bit defeated.
You roll your eyes, “I’m a bit preoccupied right now. So unless you’d like to discuss my class work, I don’t have time to entertain this.”
“Just give me five minutes, please.”
You turn off the stove and snatch up your phone before ambling to your bedroom.
“Spit it out already, Yunho.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you ____,” he admits.
Hearing you say his first name makes him feel a smidge better, even if it’s in irritation. He wonders if you can feel his heart pounding through the speaker or the way it makes his fingers tremble while holding the phone. “I was just scared, you have to understand that at least. I told you I’ve never done that kind of thing before, ever.”
“Thought it was a mistake–”
“I only said that because you left without saying anything. I thought you regretted it!”
“I literally told you why I did that, you decided to not believe me apparently,” you counter, voice laced with the slightest bit of frustration as you sit on your bed. Then you add in a mutter, “Instead of talking with me like an adult.”
There’s a long moment of silence. He doesn’t hang up though, so neither do you. You stare at the timer under his name, continuing to count up seconds full of emptiness.
“I’m really sorry,” Yunho finally sighs. “I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. I was just scared.” You remain silent and it eats at his confidence slowly. He’s desperate and doesn’t really care if it shows at this point, so he goes on to fill the silence again, “You were right, we’re adults. It’s not anybody else’s business what happens outside of campus. That’s why I’m trying to fix things now. Please.”
You sigh heavily while stroking your temples. This conversation is not something you had prepared yourself for, but the desperation in his voice is hitting you right in the gut. You know he’s being sincere, but it’s just hard to make yourself that vulnerable as well. You both know the truth is that it’s not okay, none of this is. It’s all extremely inappropriate. What you are doing with each other could ruin both of your lives if found out before you graduate. It’s risky; and yet, you still find yourself saying a sentence you definitely shouldn’t be saying:
“Listen, I genuinely like you Yunho.”
“And I genuinely like you too, ____. So let me take you on a proper date,” he says a little too hastily, but he can’t stop himself from the excitement that bubbles inside of him, stemming solely from you even reciprocating his feelings, “And not just a dinner like usual, I mean something thoughtful.”
“Something thoughtful…” you repeat after him, accidentally punctuating it with a giggle at how foolish the whole situation seems. “Are you serious about that?”
“Absolutely,” he assures you, “Only if you want to, of course.”
You sigh and smile to yourself at how heartfelt he sounds. Sure, there are millions of ways this could go extremely wrong, but you decide to ignore those thoughts and take him up on his offer. If you were one to listen to the better part of your judgment, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this situation in the first place. It would be a shame to let that work you put in go to waste just because of a little hiccup in the road. Besides, Yunho was surely the best fuck you had received in quite some time. There was plenty of time through the rest of the semester to explore that side of him again as well. The conversation ends with you both agreeing to meet with each other in a few days, Yunho promising to make it enjoyable even though it’ll be discrete.
♡ taglist for those who replied to my interest post: @yeos-bunny @sharksandminhos @sannieluvrr
#ateez smut#ateez fluff#ateez fanfic#ateez yunho#jung yunho#jeong yunho#yunho x reader#yunho smut#reader insert#x reader#yeosang#hongjoong#mingi#jongho#seonghwa#san#ateez fic#ateez#forbidden romance#secret relationship#teacher x student
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gang shit | knj
Your daughter's classmate has a really hot dad. Apparently, you're his arch-nemesis.
○ Pairing: Dilf!Namjoon x Single Parent!Reader
○ Rating: Sfw
○ Genre: Kidfic, strangers/romantic interest, an attempt at humor
○ 1 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Single Parent)
○ Word Count: 1204
○ Warnings: Shockingly none!! aside from my terrible sense of humor, jokes about Crime!!, and also Namjoon's dimples
○ Notes: Inspired by this tweet. I hope you enjoy the first drabble of my 100 Drabble Challenge I'm doing with @sailoryooons - Please check out Hali's drabbles throughout 2024, too! Happy New Year, besties! ✨
○ Post Date: January 1, 2024
○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots
○ What was Jai listening to? GOAT - Number_i
“I don’t make the rules to this gang shit. I just play my role.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, and you cock your head to the side in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Namjoon adjusts his black baseball cap. His bicep bulges out of his short sleeve when he lifts his arm.
You’re too old to be thirsting for a man like this. In all honesty, you’ve been acting childish all day – literally. It’s the last day of school before summer break, and your daughter’s preschool teacher invited parents to an end-of-the-year celebration. Having the privilege of working a hybrid schedule means it’s relatively easy for you to swing by the school with primary-colored cupcakes in hand. They’re the disgusting ones kids love that’ll stain their fingers and mouths bright blue. Oh, to be a four-year-old. So easy to please.
Unlike little Yuna’s father, who has a stick shoved up his ass, and for what?
“What are you even talking about?” you ask with your arms crossed against your chest.
You’d said literally five words to the guy, intending to start a pleasant conversation while the kids ran around the playground and the other parents mingled at the picnic tables outside.
“Hi, I’m Y/N, Brooklyn’s parent.”
Apparently, that was offensive.
Namjoon’s sharp eyes drag up and down your body, and you try not to let his heavy gaze affect you – and fail when you feel your stomach dip.
“Brooklyn said Yuna dresses weird,” Namjoon finally says with a pout that shouldn’t look so cute on a grown-ass man.
“Did she?”
“Are you calling Yuna a liar?”
“No!” This man is so volatile. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. We’ve been practicing using kind words, but, well, you know how kids are…”
Namjoon doesn’t look convinced.
You feel antsy under his gaze, unsure what to say or do. Are you supposed to apologize? Maybe that’s the mature thing to do. You’re still new to this whole “I’m suddenly responsible for an entire human being even though I barely even know how to take care of myself” thing. It’s a little bit unbelievable, actually!
“I’m sorry for Brooklyn’s judgmental behavior. What kind of weird-, what kind of clothes-” you stumble through what you already know is a shit apology, “Which one is Yuna?”
“That’s her.” Namjoon nods in Yuna’s direction.
You look across the playground to the swing set, where a little girl is lying on the swing on her stomach and spinning around with her arms and legs hanging limp. She’s wearing her hair in asymmetrical pigtails, one higher on her head than the other. Her sneakers are mismatched, as are her colorful knee-high socks. Her pants are polka-dotted, her shirt striped, and she’s got a bright purple cape tied around her neck.
“She’s adorable,” you say softly.
“She’s weird as shit.”
Your mouth hangs open when Namjoon shrugs.
“What? She’s my kid; I’m allowed to say that.”
“Fair enough,” you concede with a smile, “So, we got beef now?”
“Yup.”
Namjoon crosses his arms against his chest to match your stance. You tell yourself it’s very inappropriate to be eyeing your new enemy’s boobs when you’re in the middle of a showdown.
“I’m not gonna lie, I don’t think I’m down for going to war for Brooklyn. Usually, I just like to blame her bad behavior on her dad,” you say with a barking laugh. You cover your mouth with your hand when you snort. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.”
“You’re good,” Namjoon finally cracks a smile, and, wow, it’s breathtaking. His eyes crinkle at the corners, his teeth are big and bright, and he has dimples… “Yuna’s mother doesn’t let her dress how she likes, so when I have her, I let her do what she wants. Self-expression is important, y’know?”
You nod because he’s right. Kids should be kids.
“Plus, I like being the fun parent.”
“Right! Who wants the parent with all the stupid rules?” You perk up, taking a step closer because now you’re partners in crime rather than enemies. Maybe. You’ll work on it. He’s too cute not to get up to some parental crime with—gang members, not rivals.
“Not cool parents like us,” Namjoon lightly elbows you.
“Yeah, they can’t ride with our gang.”
Namjoon makes a face the moment the words come out of your mouth. He bites both lips, rolling them in and hollowing his cheeks, eyebrows raised.
“What? What!” you gasp, knowing when you’re being made fun of, even if it’s in silence.
“Don’t ever say anything like that ever again.”
With a huff, you give him a tiny punch to the arm and tell yourself that it isn’t because you want to feel how tight his muscles are.
“You’re the one who–”
“HEY! NO HITTING!”
Groaning, you throw your head back as a tiny blur of pink collides with your body. Brooklyn tugs on the hem of your shirt, repeatedly chanting, “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,” until you crouch to meet her at her level. Taking her little hands in yours, you hold them to your lips to give her knuckles a quick peck.
“You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that to Mr. Kim,” you admit, “I should apologize, shouldn’t I?”
Brooklyn nods, and the bulbous beaded hair ties at the end of her pigtail braids swing like a deadly game of tetherball.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Kim,” you say as you look up at Namjoon. He taps his finger against his chin in mock thought, and you can’t help but think that you’ll actually punch him if he fucks up this teaching moment by pretending not to accept your apology.
“I forgive you,” he says with another grin that makes you feel like a silly teenager.
“Y’know, Brooklyn, Mr. Kim told me something about you and Yuna…” Brooklyn immediately ducks her chin to her chest. No one has ever looked guiltier. “It’s not very nice to talk about how people look, love. I think you should apologize to Yuna, don’t you agree?”
It takes very little convincing for Brooklyn to run off toward the swings. She flops on her stomach in the swing beside Yuna, and then, after a bit of talking, both girls spin around.
“If Brooklyn throws up from doing that, it’s your fault,” you mutter to Namjoon.
“Real aggressive coming from someone who just physically attacked me.”
“Okay, Mr. Gang Shit,” you quip back, catching Namjoon’s widening grin out of the corner of your eye.
“Listen,” Namjoon touches your elbow, his fingers lingering just long enough for you to give him your attention. Heat spreads along your forearm and makes your fingers tingle. “I don’t really accept either of your apologies. You might need to try a little harder to get me to forgive you.”
“Oh.” You feel your stomach twist.
“Might want to start with getting dinner with me, and then we can see where it goes?”
Oh.
“I mean, if you think it wouldn’t hurt my street cred being seen with the likes of you, then, yeah.”
Namjoon grabs his baseball cap bill and pulls it down until his hat covers his face. “Don’t make me rescind this offer because I’ll do it.”
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see how it goes.”
Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.
All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.
#bts x reader#namjoon x reader#bts fanfic#namjoon fanfic#jai writes#gimmethatagustd#gang shit#100 drabble challenge
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Teach Me, Senpai!
Pairing: Ino x f!reader x Nanami
Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~2.6k
cw: smut - threesome, spit-roast, PIV sex (doggy style), blow job, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, Nanami is sorta a perv oops, Ino calls Nanami senpai, a hint of a breeding kink, use of pet names, everyone is an adult here in case that doesn’t come across clearly
Summary: Takuma Ino is your silly, golden retriever boyfriend who brings you along to meet his mentor, Nanami Kento. You’ve heard a lot about him, mostly because your boyfriend constantly praises him for being so amazing. You underestimate how close their relationship is until Ino starts asking his "senpai" for pointers on how to spice things up in the bedroom. What better way to learn than to demonstrate, right?
Author’s Note: I'm currently in heat, can you blame me? I tried my best to edit and proofread, sorry if there are any glaring grammar mistakes or typos, please ignore! Tagging @todorosie @crazychaoticizzy @gojoloves @brightnessemma @batafuraikisu (I know you didn't ask, but I'm tagging you anyways bc ily and I think you'd like this lol). I'm sorry if I missed any tags, Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciate, thank you for reading! MDNI divider by @/cafekitsune.
“You’re going to love him, I swear!” Ino insists, dragging you down the hallway of the office building, past empty cubicles. It’s past five and all the employees are out for the remainder of the day.
“I just don’t see why I have to meet him,” you argue, following him reluctantly.
“Because he’s important to me! He’s my mentor, my senpai! I have the highest respect for him, and I think it’s cool for you to finally put a face to a name. Aren’t you curious about the guy I’m always talking about?”
“Not really,” you answer, rolling your eyes. Honestly, you’ve grown sick of hearing your boyfriend gush so much about this Nanami fellow. You’re starting to feel jealous about how highly he thinks of this other man. “Why are we even here? This seems like a very random meeting spot.”
“We debrief here sometimes after our missions. He used to be a salary man, so I guess they still let him use the office.” They arrive at a closed door at the end of the hall. Ino knocks twice, a bright smile on his face, a little too excited for this.
A well-built blonde man answers, donning a blue dress shirt and spotted tie. You immediately notice how large his hands are, clenched to the door frame, staring at you from behind steampunk glasses. “Hello.”
“Nanami! Hey! This is my girlfriend, the one I’ve been telling you about.” You introduce yourself to him with a handshake, confirming that they are indeed very big compared to yours. You feel guilty noticing something that can be misconstrued as inappropriate, even lewd in most cases, so you quickly let the thought fade, stepping inside the room.
It’s a normal looking office, quite barren, except for the few papers stacked on the desk and a map posted on one of the walls. There’s a single chair facing the table, so you take that as Ino stands beside you, arm around your shoulders. “Thanks for letting us stop by. I really wanted to introduce you two to each other.”
Nanami nods curtly, leaning on the edge of the desk in front of you. Your eyes almost drift toward his crotch, curious about his size, but you resist the temptation, ashamed of yourself for even imagining something so completely wrong, especially with your boyfriend right next to you. “You said you wanted to speak to me about something,” he says, focusing on Ino. He removes his glasses, tucking them in his breast pocket.
“Ah, right! Well, I’m a little shy to ask, especially since I haven’t mentioned it to her yet…” Ino scratches his nape nervously, tugging his beanie to cover his reddening ears.
You look at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”
He bites his lip, choosing his words carefully before speaking. “Well, you know how you and I have been…you know, having some trouble in the bedroom?”
At that, you immediately freeze, gaping at him, shocked. A strangled noise comes out of Nanami’s throat, equally jarred.
Ino continues. “I want to get some advice from someone I really trust, like Nanami.” He glances between you, waiting for a response, an uneasy grin on his face.
You’re stunned, heat surrounding your entire body now, mortified that your boyfriend would casually bring this up without any warning whatsoever. It’s no secret to either of you that your sex life has gotten a bit lackluster recently. Besides missionary and the occasional blowjob, there isn’t much else that you’ve tried in the bedroom. Neither of you are that experienced to begin with, and you both lack the confidence to initiate something different, something new. It’s a matter that you’ve been meaning to resolve privately. Or so you thought.
No one speaks for what feels like an eternity. You’re tempted to grab your boyfriend and haul ass out of there, hoping this entire conversation can be forgotten or played up to be some kind of cruel, sick joke. However, you remain seated, curiously anticipating Nanami’s response. After all, you haven’t flat-out refused yet, and neither has he.
Nanami clears his throat. “What kind of advice do you need?” You’re surprised that he’s even entertaining the idea.
“I just want a few tips on how to spice things up,” Ino answers. “Make it more enjoyable for her.” He puts his arm around you again, squeezing your shoulder. You don’t know whether to punch him or kiss him; the arousal growing between your legs says the latter. The thought of another man who’s practically a stranger instructing your eager boyfriend on how to pleasure you is titillating and definitely something different, something new. You won’t deny it: you’re intrigued.
Nanami crosses his arms over his chest, avoiding either of your gazes, focused on the floor instead. “I will help, if you both consent to it.”
Ino turns to you with puppy dog eyes. “Babe, you cool with this?”
Too invested now to refuse, you reply, “Sure.”
Your boyfriend lets out a sigh of relief, the tension relaxing in the air surrounding you. “Sweet. Me too.” He looks at Nanami, a bright smile on his face now, clearly thrilled about this. “What’s first, senpai?”
Nanami clears his throat again, standing up straight, taking a step towards you. “Well, foreplay is always a good place to start.”
Ino sticks his finger up. “Right! Foreplay. Uh, do you have a pen and paper so I can take notes…?”
“You don’t seriously need to take notes on foreplay, do you?” he snaps. “It’s as simple as kissing and touching on all the right spots.”
“What spots are those?”
“It’s probably better if you ask her.” Nanami points to you, making direct eye contact. “Where do you like to be touched?”
You swallow hard, timid from being put on the spot like this. “Just the normal places.”
“The two of you have to communicate better if this is ever going to work out,” he says, a hint of impatience in his tone. “Show him.”
Committing to this fully now, you stand up, grab Ino’s hand and brush it against your lips. “I like it when you kiss me. And when you touch my lips.”
He smiles at you. “That’s good.”
“You can also put your fingers in my mouth every once in a while. If you want,” you suggest, licking the tip of his middle finger.
He smirks. “Yeah. I definitely want that, too.”
“Sometimes, it’s better to learn by doing it,” Nanami interjects, watching the two of you carefully.
You gaze at Ino’s lips, then into his eyes, nodding. He leans in, kissing you slowly. He’s always been a good kisser, a great one, actually. The problem is that he’s too gentle with you.
“Kiss her neck,” Nanami orders, arms at his sides now, hands clenched into tight fists.
Ino follows, trailing down your chin until he’s at your neck, sucking on your skin.
“Put your fingers in her mouth. She said she likes that, right?”
Ino hums, tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb before pushing it in. You surround him, using your grip to pump him in and out of you. His other hand drifts to your waist, teasing the elastic of your pants.
“Are you getting wet, sweetheart?” Nanami’s voice is low and sultry; the use of the pet name has you unraveling much quicker than you expect. Without thinking, you breathe out, “Yes,” pushing his fingers deeper down your throat.
“Fuck, baby,” Ino moans, hot on your ear. “Where else do you want to be touched?”
You pull him out, swallowing your thick saliva, placing his hand between your legs. “Touch me here.”
Ino, eyes glossy with lust, slowly shimmies your pants down your legs, revealing your soaked panties. “Oh shit, you really are wet, fuck.”
“Eat her out,” Nanami demands. There’s a desperate gruffness in his voice that’s undeniable now, and one glance is all it takes for you to realize that he’s hard, an impressive bulge strained in his slacks. He shoves all his belongings off the desk, making room for you. “Here. Do it here.”
Ino curses under his breath, cock stiff in his sweats, leading you to the table, where you sit at the edge, spreading your thighs open for him. He slips your panties off, licking his lips before diving into your arousal, tongue pressed firmly on your clit. “Fuck,” you moan, squirming from the sensation.
Nanami walks to the other side, near your head, staring at Ino’s face buried in your pussy. Instinctually, you reach for him, pulling him by the belt, tongue hanging out. His eyes flit to yours, surprised when you say, “Touch me, senpai.”
Ino moans into you, clearly turned on by it. Obliging, Nanami hoists your shirt off, leaving you in just your bra, which he hastily unhooks to bare your chest. Bending towards you, he wraps his lips around one breast, suckling at your teat, his hand working the other nipple, pinched between his fingers. You’re close to your climax; you just need a little bit more. As if he can read your mind, Nanami releases you with a pop, saying, “Suck on her clit until she comes. Fuck her with your fingers at the same time.” His sudden vulgarity spurs you on, grinding your hips against your boyfriend’s face, pulling Nanami back to your tits.
Ino muffles, puckering his lips around you, sliding his middle finger inside you. You throw your head back on the desk, ecstasy rippling through your entire being, knees shaking with sensitivity.
“Yeah, she likes that,” Nanami purrs, flicking his tongue on your peaked nipples. “Put another in. One at a time, until she’s full.”
Ino manages to fit three of his digits inside you before you orgasm with him latched to your swelling bud, coating him in your slick. He doesn’t stop licking until you’ve come down from your high, pushing his head away, overstimulated. Nanami removes himself from you, unbuckling his belt, watching intently as your boyfriend slips his wet fingers inside your mouth. “Taste yourself babe. You’re so fucking good.” You slurp your own juices off him, pussy throbbing, aching to be fucked.
“You like that, don’t you, sweetheart?” Nanami murmurs, shimmying out of his pants, erection protruding from his briefs. He palms it, rubbing his thumb over the wet spot oozing from the tip. “Ino, tease her a little bit.”
“Yes sir,” he salutes, pulling down his bottoms, cock sprung against the hem of his sweater. He taps the tip of his dick on your puffy bud, smiling wide as you writhe for him. “Damn, baby. I’ve never seen you this wet before.”
“It’s a good thing you came to me then, isn’t it?” Nanami mentions, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “Now turn around for us, princess. It’s going to feel so much better for you like this.”
You obey, readjusting your body to bend over the desk, ass pushed towards Ino, desperate to be used by them both. Your boyfriend positions his cock at your entrance, huffing, “You ready, baby?”
“Yeah. Fuck me, Ino,” you moan. “Fuck me hard.”
He glides in slowly, stretching you out little by little, easing into you. Once he’s all the way in, groin pressed to your ass, he starts thrusting at a steady pace. It increases gradually until he’s pounding away at you, hitting that sweet spot over and over until your eyes glaze over, in a total state of bliss.
Nanami studies you, enjoying the show until he notices you staring at the bulge in his briefs, tongue lolling, practically begging for him. He smirks at you. “You want all your holes stuffed, don’t you, sweetheart?”
You nod, drool leaking from the sides of your mouth, eyes weepy, peering up at him. How could he resist such a cock hungry slut like you? Especially when you look at him like this?
“I’m going to give you my cock then. Think you can take it?” he asks, shoving his underwear off, cock flopping against his abdomen.
“Oh yeah, she can fucking take it,” Ino grunts, hands gripped to your hips, still fucking you with fervor. “Right babe?” He delivers a fresh slap to your ass, which echoes off the walls of the office.
“Yeah, I can take it,” you mumble, gulping down the spit collecting on your tongue.
Nanami hums, satisfied with your answer, inching his dick closer to your mouth. “Open up for me, sweetheart.”
You do, swallowing him until he bottoms out to the back of your throat, testing your gag reflex. He stays still, staring at you, relishing this lewd sight. “Ino, your girlfriend looks so pretty with my cock in her mouth. Don’t you agree?”
“Fuck, yeah. So fucking hot how she just takes it. She’s a good girl, always has been,” he says from behind you, spreading your cheeks open to watch himself disappear into your pussy with each thrust.
“You’re a lucky man,” Nanami mutters, tipping your chin up, gazing into your eyes. “And you’re a lucky girl, aren’t you? Getting fucked by your boyfriend and his senpai.” Nanami begins to move, pumping himself in and out of your hungry mouth, your tongue running along the underside of his dick.
Ino shrugs his beanie off, running his fingers through his hair, damp with perspiration. “Oh fuck, baby, you’re taking us so fucking good.”
“Like a proper slut,” Nanami adds, tracing the outline of your lips, glossy with spit, stretched around his shaft. “Do you suck his cock as good as you suck mine?”
You nod, swallowing your gag reflex as the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat with each solid thrust of his hips. Your second orgasm approaches quickly, your pussy clenching Ino’s cock, though you can’t say anything while gobbling up Nanami’s cock, so you let it be, continuing to be spit-roasted over the desk, thirsty for their cum.
“Fuck, I’m going to come soon,” Ino says, slowing his pace. “I’ve never…I’ve never come inside her before.”
Nanami, still relishing his blow job, asks, “Why not?”
“Too scared to get her pregnant,” he admits. It’s true; Ino always pulls out, even when you beg him to finish inside you. You appreciate that about him, but in this moment, you want nothing more than his cream pie filling you up.
“Is she on birth control?”
“Y-Yeah.”
Once again, as if psychic, Nanami responds, “Then I’m sure she wouldn’t mind getting your load just this once. Right, sweetheart?”
Your words are muffled. Nanami pulls out, cock wet with your spit, stroking it in his fist. “What was that, princess?”
“I said yes! Give it to me, Ino!” you whine, shaking around him.
“Fuck, are you sure, baby? You sure you want it?”
“Give it to me. Want you to breed me,” you blurt out.
“That’s it, that’s a good girl,” Nanami coos, slapping the head of his cock on your tongue. “How about here? You want it here too?”
You glance at Ino, who’s watching. He nods, licking his lips. “Yes. Want your cum inside me, senpai,” you reply.
He smirks, pushing himself back inside you, his length sliding on every inch of your tongue. “Good girl.”
It doesn’t take long for both men to come, Ino shooting his seed deep into your womb, stuffing you full, Nanami spurting ribbons into your mouth, guzzling down each drop. They pull out slowly, cocks sensitive now from the stimulation. You roll over onto your back, catching your breath, looking up at them with a satisfied smile on your face.
Nanami cups your cheek in his hand, thumb brushing delicately against your skin. “Such a messy girl. I think she needs a few more lessons. What do you think, Ino?”
Your boyfriend’s eyes are blown wide, staring at the lewd sight before him, your pussy leaking with his cum, your mouth drooling with Nanami’s. “Yeah. Definitely needs more, senpai.”
#nanami kento#nanami kento smut#nanami smut#nanami x reader#ino x reader x nanami#ino takuma x reader#takuma ino x reader#takuma ino smut#ino takuma smut#ino x reader x nanami smut#nanami kento x reader#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami smut#nanami x you#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut
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toji fucking his step daughter because his wife won’t give him any attention and she’s the second best thing :3
-🌹
daddy toji my beloved :3
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, praise (good girl), biting, age gap, stepcest, cheating, daddy kink, creampie, bimbofication, virginity loss, fingering, masturbation.
words: 2k
Toji doesn’t know what to think, what to feel, whenever he sees you floating around the house. You’re confident, that he knows. Short skirts and tiny t-shirts are usually your go to attire, whether you’re at home or going out with your friends, you often dress scantily.
He tried scolding you about it, but you didn’t listen. And his wife, well, maybe if she supported him more he wouldn’t be thinking such oh so inappropriate things about his cute little step daughter.
“Where is she?” you ask, rudely, snapping Toji from his thoughts as you lean across the breakfast bar. He has to force himself to not look down your top, your cleavage on full display. Though his eyes do slip downward when he realises you aren’t even looking at him, too engrossed with your phone. “Said she’d give me money t’get my nails done.” you tell him, and he now knows you’re referring to your mother.
“She’s back to school shopping with Megumi.” he tells you, breaking his stare from your low cut crop top and looking into your eyes. Have you always been so skanky?
You’re a grown woman. He can’t believe you’re still leaching off of your mother. Nails can’t be that expensive. You should get a job and pay for them yourself. What makes you so special that you just get whatever you want just because you asked?
“Oh, well, you’ll have to gimme it.” you smile at him briefly before texting your friends again. You don’t even notice when he scoffs, shaking his head in disappointment.
What’s annoying him more is the fact that you’re reminding him so much of your fucking mother. Before she grew up, before they grew old, she was exactly like you. Vapid and gorgeous. She had him wrapped around her little finger back in the day, and he’s sure you are the same with every boy you come into contact with.
He feels his cock strain against his slacks as he thinks about all of hot and wild sex they used to have back then. Honestly, these days, he doesn’t remember the last time he got his dick wet. Now he’s just a miserable, pent up dad in a regular marriage. That’s life though, right? That’s just what happens as you get older.
Your wife loses interest and you develop a porn addiction.
“I’m not pay—”
You silence him as you pull your old school pink flip phone to your ear and hold up a finger in front of him, smiling when you hear your friends voice. “Yeah I’ll be there in thirty! Daddy’s givin’ me the money.” you beam at him, your shoulders bouncing as you talk excitedly.
Toji shakes his head again, reaching into his back pocket to grab his wallet.
He’s wrapped around your finger, like mother like fuckin’ daughter.
“I’m not fucking Satoru!” you tell your friend, rolling your eyes. Your step father freezes, for just a moment, before pulling out some money from his wallet. You look down at his hand and see the pitiful amount, taking his wallet from him and stealing a few extra bank notes while you rest your phone between your ear and shoulder. “Ugh. No one believes me! Do you? Whenever I tell anyone ‘m a virgin they think I’m lying.”
“Hang up the phone.” Toji tells you, but you barely hear him. You look at him for a split second before focusing on the call again.
“No, I didn’t! I sucked him off and that’s all I’ve done.” you huff. “Also my step dad is here so, like, stop talking about it.”
“Kid, hang up the fuckin’ phone.” he tells you, louder.
“Wait a sec,” you tell your friend, moving the phone away from your ear. “What?”
“Hang. Up.”
“Oh my God!” you moan, “I’ll meet you there, Toji wants to talk to me— yeah I’m probably getting in trouble because of you! Hahaaaa okay, byeeee~!” you smile, hanging up and giving your full attention to your step-father. He doesn’t speak, and neither do you. Not for a while, not until the silence makes you too uncomfortable to keep it going. “Is this ‘cuz of the money? You didn’t give me enough.”
“I— no, sweetheart.” he shakes his head. “Were you lyin’ to your friend, just now? About being a virgin?”
“Hm? No, why?”
Toji huffs out a breath, his cheeks filling with air as he thinks things through. He’s shocked, to say the least. He always thought you were putting out like a pro. He knows you’ve been on birth control for years. He’s had to drive you to get your injection a few times. He never thought about it much, just a regular dad chore when your mother wasn’t available.
But you’re a woman, now.
He’s surprised you haven’t been fucking since you were a teenager. But he’s even more surprised that you aren’t sexually active, now. He can’t help but wonder why. What’s stopping you? You dress like a slut, after all. Why aren’t you acting like one?
He reaches over and grabs his wallet and the money from your hand. You want to protest, but he walks by you too quickly for you to object. He hurries up the stairs and slams the door after himself.
“A— Am I grounded?!” you yell, hoping for a response.
Nothing.
You follow up the stairs, running up them as best you can in your high heels, and wait outside of his bedroom door. You knock a few times, and get no response. So you begin to pound on the door.
“Toji! You can’t ground me anymore!”
“You’re not grounded, come here.” he instructs. You open the door and walk into the room. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, belt unbuckled and zipper down. He must be changing into something comfier to wear around the house. “Sit.” he tells you, patting his hand on his lap.
You go to him, immediately, sitting sweetly on his thick thighs as he thinks about what to say.
“Didn’t realise you were such a good girl,” he tells you, kissing your shoulder softly. “You’re like a nice version of your mother.”
“Should divorce her if y’don’t like her, daddy.” you tell him, looking down at your imperfect nails. You giggle when you feel him bounce you on his leg.
“Maybe I should.” he tells you. “But I’ll be lonely.”
“You’ll have me ‘n Megumi!” you remind him. “Well, maybe not me as much, but, y’know.”
“Ah, sweetheart, don’t wanna lose you. Not now, not ever.” he kisses your shoulder again. “How come you’re a virgin, huh? Savin’ it?”
“Mhmm… wanna give it to someone special.” you tell him, looking his direction and batting your pretty, false eyelashes. “Everyone thinks ‘m a slut… but ‘m not! Promise! Makes me embarrassed that I haven’t done it yet, sometimes, though.”
His cock aches as he hears you talk. How dumb yet adorable you sound as you discuss your sex life, or lack there of. He isn’t even a little surprised that people don’t believe you, he wouldn’t have believed it himself if you hadn’t told him. He can see in your pathetically wet eyes, though, that you’re being truthful.
He is overwhelmed by the need to bare his soul to you. To tell you what he wants. What he needs and desires from you most right now. There’s no shame within him as he puts his hand down his pants and wraps his hand around his cock, pulling it free. He holds your body in place with his free hand, his arm possessing enough strength to keep you firmly in place.
You’re just like your mother.
If your mother wasn’t a cold, celibate bitch.
“Daddy wants to be your someone special, darlin’.” he informs you, words warbling as he pleasures himself behind your back.
You can hear it. You can hear the tacky sound of his cock being rubbed again and again. The way his breath and speech is slightly uneven. He sinks his teeth into your bare shoulder and you wince. It’s not too hard, but it was unexpected.
He’s surprised you don’t object when he splits your legs apart so that you’re straddling one of his thighs. His hand roams up your thigh and beneath your skirt, towards your clothed cunt. Though when he gets too close, your legs shut, quickly.
“You’re my daddy, you can’t touch me there!” you remind him. But he knows. He knows he’s your daddy and that’s exactly why you should let him. Admittedly, part of you wants him to. You want to feel someone make contact with your untouched core for the very first time.
Someone that isn’t you.
You’re sure Toji is very experienced. He’s so handsome, even now. You’ve seen pictures of him when he was your age over two decades ago. He’s beautiful, like a film star. You know he was fucking like it was going out of fashion.
Your mother has told you what a stallion he is in bed, you’re close like that. There’s no secrets or shame between you. And honestly, it did make you feel a little jealous. You felt like you were missing out on something. Sex, in general, and Toji.
But you never thought you’d be like this, with him.
“Baby, who’s gonna make you feel more special than your daddy, hah?” he asks. You feel your resolve weakening as he kisses your neck deliciously. You want to scream at him, to tell him where you want him to touch you.
He teases your body until your arching and squirming to follow his touch. And you practically cream around his thigh when he lifts up your top and tweaks your nipple. You’re weightless in his hold as he moves you around like you’re his little doll. He licks and laves over your pulse point while playing with your tits. His free hand moves your panties aside with a goal in mind. Two thick fingers slide effortlessly into your tight, virgin slot. The resistance is there but he ignores it. You ignore it.
And within minutes you’re having your first orgasm on account of another person. You aren’t sure why your mother has stopped having sex with Toji, you’d be begging him for it every chance you got if this brief encounter is anything to go by.
“Fuck me, daddy, please? Please—”
“Thought daddy’s can’t touch their little girls there?” he smirks, already helping you turn around to face him. He kisses you, sloppily, as he lines his thick cock up with your tight hole. “Sh, sh, shhh, baby… good girl, c’mon, take daddy’s cock. Jus’ like that.” he talks you through it as you sob. Little cunt stretching to accommodate his monstrous size.
“T-Too big! Daddy’s too big for me!” you tell him, though he silences you with another kiss.
Truth be told, he doesn’t particularly care if it hurts or not anymore. He doesn’t care if you can’t take him, because you will. He does all of the work for you, lifting you up and down like a toy while he thrusts up into you.
He almost cums from the sight of your eyes turning white and your tongue hanging out as he pummels into your sweet spot. He wonders if you’ll keep telling your friends you’re a virgin. It’ll be a fun little secret, for both of you, he thinks.
He finishes with a string of grunts, fucking his seed deep into you again and again until he’s got nothing left to give.
You feel so icky and sweaty as he starts to calm down from his release. He kisses you, sweetly, thanking you repeatedly. He needed this badly. It’s not even just sex anymore. He’s tired of feeling lonely and he’s tired of being neglected.
You’re not your mother though, are you?
You won’t make him feel like that.
“Don’t tell her, sweetheart.” he tells you, brushing your hair from your face and kissing your cheek. He grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger, guiding you to look at him as he speaks. “This stays between you ‘n me, alright?”
“Mhmm!” you nod, leaning forward eagerly to kiss his lips. “Always wanted you to be my special person…” you confess.
“Yeah?” he smiles at that, you really are sweet when you want to be.
“Wanna do it again, daddy. Can we?”
“Of course,” he nods, “I’m addicted to this little pussy, now.”
© 2023 rinhaler
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Boys? Men! | t.w
pairing: dom!toto x sub!reader
warnings: smut, chocking, blindfolding, inappropriate usage of a tie, spitting, ruined orgasm
w/c: 3k
summary: Dating Toto Wolff right after you broke up with Mick Schumacher is something you can definitely argue about, but you just realised that older man do it way better, especially jealous old man that are rather possessive over what's their's.
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Honestly, you didn’t even wanted to put that black little dress on and drive in that old timer Mercedes with your boyfriend toto to this 'super important' event that he had to attend.
But since you’re his lovely girlfriend, you’ve decided to join your hardworking boyfriend.
And you definitely didn’t regret your choice as soon as you saw Michael Schumacher’s golden retriever son, mick.
You and mick had a tiny bit of… history. You’ve met each other through formula one — since you are actually a pretty well known photographer in the industry — got pretty close friends, hooked up multiple times, kind of acted like you were a couple but never put an actual label on it and then decided that staying normal friends would be the best option.
And none of you cared about the fact that the two of you got some history… not until you started dating his boss — right before he joined Mercedes—, Toto Wolff.
Was it maybe a tiny bit bold? Yes. Did you care what others had to say about it? No, not one bit. You didn’t even think about it that much.
But what you definitely do think about is walking up to mick now and starting a harmless conversation with him, tilting your head to the side before you set your champagne glass down and leaned into Toto’s touch,
“I'm gonna be right back, darling.” You mumbled into his ear after he bend down to hear you better.
He briefly stopped taking with some random, old dude you’ve never seen before, putting his attention onto you now. “Where are you going, Schatzi?” He asked you, furrowing his brows.
You cleared your throat, “I-I’m just gonna have a quick chat with somebody.” You replied as you looked up at him.
Toto clenched his jaw before he quickly threw his gaze in the big room, eyes scanning the place before they landed on mick on the other side off the room, making his lips turn upwards into a very tiny smirk before he looked down at your figure again, “Alright honey.” Briefly bending down to give you a quick peck before he turned around again and continued his conversation.
You gulped before you made your way over to mick, squeezing through a few people before you finally reached him, smiling at him as soon as he noticed you.
“Y/n, hey!,” mick started as he went in for a big hug, “What are you doing here? Supporting your man?” You nodded at his question, briefly checking him in that neat black and white suit that he’s wearing out before you put your eyes onto his face again.
“Yep, gotta be supportive, right?” You chuckled, slowly making your way over to him and leaned your back against the wall right next to his taller figure, turning your head to look at him.
“You’re here alone?” You asked him curiously.
He sighed as he put his hands into the pockets of his black slacks, “Why would you care?”
His answer suprised you a bit. You knew that the break up was mutual but you also knew that in the end it was always mick how wanted an 'us' more that you did. You gulped again,
“I don’t, I’m just curious mick.”
He briefly shook his head, “Yeah, s-sorry,” he whispered.
You looked up at him, “it’s okay,” you answered.
You removed your gaze from mick and looked across the room to put your eyes on your tall boyfriend standing at the other side of the room, still chatting with that random guy.
Mick briefly grinned before he cleared his throat, “I mean, as long as you love him, everything’s good, right?” He turned to face you again, seeing your grin now, desperately trying to hold a giggle in.
Your ex tilted his head to the side, “what’s so funny?”
Then you just shook your head before you started singing your's and mick's favourite song that you’ve danced to a dozen of times when the two of you were still together.
“As long as you love me,” you suddenly started imitating the backstreet boys's iconic song.
Mick chuckled at your obviously awful attempt to sing the song, “Who you are,” he continued.
“Where you’re from.”
“As looooooong as you loooooooove meereeeeeee.” He dragged out the o's in a rather loud manner, making you lean into his side and laugh into his chest as his head fell on top of yours, both of you squeezing your eyes shut as you just unstoppably laughed at your extremely bad singing voices.
But then, as soon as you opened your eyes, you were only able to see your boyfriend, Toto, spitting daggers your way, tightly holding his champagne glass before you removed your body from mick's warmth again.
You gulped before you looked up at the blond man, “I’m gonna go back to toto again, was very nice to see you tho, mick!” You told him as you slowly made your way over to your visibly angry looking boyfriend.
He nodded and smiled at you, “yep, no problem! See you, y/n!” He kindly answered before you turned around and went to the boss of your ex boyfriend, eyes only staring at the floor.
Toto cleared his throat as soon as you stood in front of him, silently forcing you to look up at him. You briefly bit your lip before you raised your head and looked at him.
“And? How was your little chat with your dear ex boyfriend?” He asked you in a rather mad tone. You rolled your eyes at his tone, making him quickly get a hold of your upper arm, pulling you closer to his body.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me and answer my question,” Toto told you harshly, making you gulp before you spoke up,
“It was good, funny,” you answered, making him grin.
“That’s what I’ve already guessed since you leaned your body so close to his after he told you some stupid joke.” You were only able to bite your inner cheek at his jealous behaviour, desperately having to stop yourself from rolling your eyes again.
“He just told me a joke, what’s your damn problem here?” You asked him in a mad tone, making the men that stood behind him turn around and take a long look at you.
“You’ve got a problem as well, or what?” You asked one of the man that stared at you like you’re an alien, making toto quickly turn around and apologise before he squeezed your upper arm even tighter and pushed your towards the exit of the big building, swiftly opening the car door of his black Mercedes before he basically threw you in the passenger seat, shutting the door in a harsh motion before he got into the drivers seat, starting the engine.
“That hurt, Toto,” you quietly told him. Toto briefly grinned, “That won’t be the only thing that will hurt tonight,” he mumbled very quietly as you furrowed your brows and gulped at his words.
- - -
The air was definitely very thick between the two of you as you entered the big mansion that Toto let you live in ever since you started dating him.
You quickly went to work and removed your black high heels from your feet, putting them aside as you watched Toto’s gaze following every single move of yours while he removed his blazer and loosened his black tie a bit before he pulled it down, keeping it in his hand.
Just when you wanted to make your way upstairs into the bedroom, toto stretched his long arm out and stopped your moving body by your stomach, not even looking at you when he spoke up,
“Where do you think you’re going, little one… huh?” He asked you in a deep tone, hand now slowly gliding up to your throat, gently wrapping it around your soft skin.
You slightly furrowed your brows before you gulped, “Upstairs, to change,” you answered innocently, but Toto’s hand only tightened around your throat, swiftly pulling your visibly tinier figure in front of his taller one, forcing your to look up at him.
Toto grinned at your answer, looking down at you with a gaze that you already knew all to well, pure anger and jealousy.
“You’re going nowhere tonight, baby,” he whispered before he put his big palm onto the back of your neck and forced you to walk with him towards the other side of the room, harshly pressing your body against the wall, immediately burying his nose into the back of your head.
Your formed your hands into fists as his mouth hovered above your ear, warm breath hitting your sensitive skin now.
“I asked you to come to this gala with me just so I could show all of my colleagues and friends what for a pretty little thing I got myself here,” he mumbled quietly into your ear from behind, slowly unbuttoning his black slacks now,
“But instead they saw what a disrespectful little brat I got myself here,” he finished off while you felt him pushing your thong to the side, exposing your wet cunt.
You whined in a high pitched tone as he swiped his long fingers through your pussy after he spit on them to wet them. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as his hand was placed around your throat again, softly squeezing it as he watched your wet pussy, swallowing his finger as he shoved two of them into you.
You gasped as he started to thrust his fingers in and out, thumb caressing the side of your neck as he fucked you knuckles deep from behind, making your legs shake.
You leaned your head forward, forehead now pressed against the white wall, “F-Fuck, please t-toto,” you sniffled as tears formed in your eyes, orgasm already approaching you since you were already quite horny in the car,
“P-Please don’t stop…it f-feels so good, oh my g-god,” you whined in a high pitched tone before you heard toto chuckle at your words.
He briefly kissed the top of your head, “Tell me one logical reason why I should let you come right now, sweetheart,” he demanded in a rather kind tone, fingers only going faster by now.
You gasped as his movements got harder, legs already shaking, “I-I, please, I d-don’t know…but please!” You begged him loudly, not giving a damn if the neighbours hear you.
“You don’t know?” He asked you teasingly.
You shook your head, tears gliding down your heated cheeks, “N-No, I’m so s-sorry toto!” You whined pathetically, squeezing your eyes shut as his fingers suddenly slowed their movements down, making you gasp.
“N-No! P-please toto, I'm sorry-”
“Shut. Up., alright?” He tilted his head to the side as his finger left your begging cunt, legs still shaking from the now ruined orgasm.
With shaking legs you fell onto the hard wooden floor, palms balancing your now visibly weak figure while you sniffled, only noticing in the corner of your with tears filled eye how toto sighed before he bend down and brushed some of your hair out of your face.
Tie still clutched in his hand, Toto looked down into you eyes, slightly smirking as he saw how glassy they actually are.
Then, after calming down a tiny bit, toto stood up again, towering in front of your now kneeling figure as he let his black tie dangle in front of your face — smiling as your small grin fell, fresh tears covering your vision again.
“I don’t think that you deserve to see me, schatzi,” toto mumbled in quiet tone, slowly brushing your messy hair behind your ear before he leaned forward and put the tie around your head, covering your vision with the expansive piece of clothing.
You gasped as he glided his fingertips over your neck and down to your shoulder blades, thumb still drawing unknown figures on your heated skin as he spoke up,
“Get up.”
You gulped at his demanding tone but quickly got up and played with your fingers due the nervousness you were currently feeling. Toto got a hold of your waist then and guided you towards — what you’ve guessed — another room. And your guess was right as soon as he turned your body around, picked you up and placed you onto the cold surface of the kitchen counter.
You bit your lip as he spread your legs, quickly removing your bottom lip from in between your teeth again as you suddenly felt him kissing your stomach, making his way towards your begging pussy which was still extremely wet.
“You know, sweetheart,” Toto began as he kissed his way around your pussy lip but then going up your thighs again,
“I though you wanted someone who’s mature and earns a lot of money and is, well… visibly older than you because you just love being seen as the pretty little girl that got herself the rich old man, the CEO of the Mercedes formula one team, you know?” You only nodded and gulped as his lips got closer to your pussy.
“But then you leave my side and walk over to,” he made a brief pause to use his fingers to spread your pussy lips, fingertip of his pointer finger now gently touching your clit, “this immature, young, almost 'no-name' boy and laugh with him and touch him and stare at him like he’s the love of your life,” he told you quietly before he spit on your clit, letting his spit run down to your entrance.
His fingertips were only teasing your clit now even more, spreading the spit all over your clit and entrance, “that’s pretty pathetic if you ask me, baby,” he mumbled under his breath, fingertips now leaving your wet pussy before he blew some air on your clit, making your legs shake again and gasp.
You swallowed and sniffled at his feather light touches and breath that was hitting your clit at the moment, “O-Oh my god,” you whined loudly, “Please toto, I l-love you,” you gasped again as he leaned forward and gave your clit a peck, “I o-only love a-and want you, y-you know-”
“Do I? Do I really know that?” Fingertips only gently touching your big clit now, teasing it as tears made their way down your red cheeks, some falling down your temple, some landing in your open mouth.
He cleared his throat, “Because if I know that — like you claim I do — then you should know, that you should have never even started this conversation with your ex boyfriend, you know how much I hate seeing you with oth-,” he briefly stopped, tongue touching your clit now as he moaned at your taste, briefly spitting on it again before he ran the tip of his tongue all over your clit, “boy's, because they are no men yet.”
You whined in a high pitched tone as he closed his mouth around your clit, sucking on it and flicking it with the tip of his tongue, basically making you see stars while your tears of pleasure and slight pain were still covering your vision — and the black tie, of course.
Your hands gripped the side of the counter as he shook his head from side to side, tongue not leaving your drenching wet pussy for one single second, making entire body shake and fall slightly forward.
“Toto, c-can I-, fuck! O-Oh my g-god, can I p-please see you a-again, please!” You cried out while he didn’t stop eating your pussy like a starved man, groaning and moaning into it, sending strong vibrations through your begging cunt.
Toto briefly removed his head after sucking on your clit for a few seconds, spreading your legs even further apart, almost forcing your knees to touch your collarbone before he went back in to eat you out, slurping your juice up and lapping onto your clit like his life depends on it, quietly humming a low 'mhh, mhh' into your pussy, basically telling you 'no'.
Obviously, you whined as you heard his answer as a new orgasm approached you, tears already staining the black tie that’s still covering your vision. You gasped before your fingers left the kitchen counter and tangled themselves into his hair, slightly pulling his mouth more and more into your pussy.
He briefly looked up at you, flashing you a quick smirk before he started to flick your poor clit with his tongue at an almost unimaginable pace, making you cry out,
“Can I-I please cum, t-toto…please,” you begged in a high pitched tone as your legs started to shake again, fingers gripping his hair now even tighter as the tears only continued to run down your temple.
“I wanna c-cuuuuum,” you cried out as Toto’s movements got even sloppier, making it even harder for you to hold everything back.
He quickly squeezed your thigh to grab your attention since you're slowly falling into subspace, “Tell me you're mine and mine only and I let you cum,” he mumbled into your pussy before he shook his head from side to side again.
You screamed as you almost choked on your tears as he did that again but quickly focusing on your answer since you really needed to cum.
“I-I am yours, toto,” you took a deep breath before you continued, “I'm all y-yours, and yours o-only…I p-promise!” You almost screamed at the top of your lungs as you felt your entire body starting to shake.
Before you came all over his mouth, you saw him smiling like a proud boyfriend, slowly nodding at your answer, “Then you may cum, pretty girl,” he whispered right before he licked all of your cum up, spitting some of it onto your clit but also swallowing some of it, groaning as he did so.
He kissed his way up your things before he stood up and wiped his lips with the back of his hand, looking down at you.
You sniffled as you tried to calm your shaking legs down but nothing helped, as your boyfriend noticed that, he put his arms around you and put your head on his chest, stroking your head.
“Shh, it’s okay… I’ve got you, I always do, don’t it? I’m yours…just like you’re mine.” He told you in a bit of deeper tone, clearly implying the situation with mick. You looked up at him,
“I love you.”
“Oh baby, I love you too,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.
#fanfic#fanfiction#f1#toto wolff x reader#toto wolff smut#toto wolff#toto wolff mercedes#toto wolff fanfic#smut#f1 fic#f1 smut#f1 x you#Toto Wolff x fem!reader#Patreon
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A Lucky Find.
Pure luck, isn’t it? (Geto Suguru x fem!sorcerer!Reader)
cw: yandere if you squint. mention of misogyny and inappropriate work place relationships, graphic descriptions of curses and body horror, death by mutilation involving a curse (Not you), mention of religion, only specifics about reader is that she’s visibly very attractive and may have long hair (no descriptors though, it could be a lace) Suguru is out of his mind. You will not be called a monkey in this one.
wc: 3.9k
You’re not a very talkative assistant.
Granted sometimes you’re inclined to wonder if talking would’ve made so much of a difference to the position you’ve been put in, but you’ve never been a particularly choosy assistant either. You’re great at handling quick business, the calls your boss can’t be bothered to take - studious in your evening planning and you can quick work a coffee run like nobody's business. — You don’t complain about the thin heels they put you in, or the pencil skirts. Mired businessmen with filthy smirks and wondering eyes, or the routine baby talk you get from your degenerate boss. You don’t blink an eye at it. - You sit when you’re told to sit and bark when Mr. Minoru decides to hold that pretty little bone over your head.
“You could use a bonus, huh?”
Today it’s a back rub.
You’re silent as your nimble fingers start to press little groves in his upper back, impassive when he groans. Mr. Minoru, your boss, is a very rich man. He’s the successor of a retired tycoon who was once the successor of another and so forth. He’s an amalgamation of power and fortune and a small legion of nepotism babies that regularly walk in through those mahogany doors just ahead of his desk. An investor, you think. Most conversations he has are about money and the best way to double it; fewer are the ones where he’s actually taking the time out of his schedule to distribute it.
It’s all elite talk. Big men following big men following a perv who believes he’s god. Long outstretched legs that extend as he relaxes himself in his seat and hopes that the movement is enough to encourage you to start on his shoulders.
You like to think you got this job out of pure luck. Met the right man at the right time and stumbled over the deal of a lifetime all for the small cost of a little bit of your dignity. — Not like it was much of a trade from your part time job busing tables at that high-end restaurant. Being yelled at by bratty celebrities at a fraction of the price and coming home smelling reminiscent of a meat locker. Now you’re standing on the top floor of a penthouse suite. Smelling of expensive perfume that your boss totally didn’t break worker/boss relation code for and looking down at the entirety of Tokyo from its bay windows.
Pure luck.
The creature hooked to the upper side of his shoulder unfastens its teeth with a firm graze of your fingers. The steam it emits as it fizzles away is sour.
Mr. Minoru has a pension for starting fights with the wrong people, it seems. With bitter people - scornful people. People who hate him and can’t do anything about it, other than wish him harm or hex him in some way. — Worst are the people who don’t hate him, who envy him. Step into his office with painted smiles and clenched teeth. Who curse his name the moment they leave and leave you to deal with these little “bugs.”
Your nose twitches as its rotten smell encombers. For a moment your pretty face is twisted up in a scowl.
The massages started from an offhand graze of your fingers during a dinner at your old job. Pretty little waitress bending over him in that little work dress and running your finger down his felted coat. You apologize for your familiarity, someone must’ve spilled something on his jacket. ~ But the weight on his back is gone from just that little touch and now he’s offering you a job. You don’t regularly make a habit of helping those you’ve already deemed “afflicted.” But the fucker making goo trails on his back at the time was just disgusting enough to hinder your train of thought, and there’s no way you could’ve gone through your shift without reviling every time you passed his table.
So, now you’re his assistant - and today it’s just a back rub. Thankfully not a request to play with his hair and try not to cringe at the way he shutters from it. A subtle pat on the cheek for his good luck kiss, or a request to sit on his lap while he tells you a story he doesn’t care if you’re listening to. Because you’re quiet.
His not talkative, non-fussy, no complaints assistant.
Like always he fills the empty air in place of your silence. “Ah. By the way, princess. We’ve got a guest coming around after lunch. A real traditional fella. So, we’ll need to be on our best behavior,”
“Apparently he’s got some sort of business opportunity for me in exchange for a few investments,” He sighs when your fingers dip a little under his collar. “Says that in his big fuckin’ haori. Probably cost a few thousand bucks,”
Mr. Minoru shifts his shoulders under your firm touches. “To be completely honest, I don’t really know about it aside from the gag of seeing him in person again. Guy has this weird energy about himself that gives me the creeps. — Says he’s avant-garde. — I just think he’s a weird fuckin’ guy.”
“But,” The exhale he lets out is tempered and whisky tinted, clears out the fresh space in his chest that usually frees up when you’ve got your hands on him. “My old man likes ‘em. Says he’d be good for my health if I kept him around. At the very least build some sorta relationship with him.”
“Too bad my health’s in tip-top shape! Eh, doll-baby?” Minoru twists his head to flash you an expensive smile. Faintly defined cheekbones turning rosy when you return it like you know you’re supposed to. “Got my little guru at my side!”
And your simper, although gentle, is forced. Distantly you wonder if you’re the reason these bugs have become so habitual.
——-
This man is very ill.
Though he walks in with his head held high and a particular spring in his step, your diagnosis is that he must be terminal. He must be diseased and irremediable. In a constant state of agony and so stricken with unwellness that he can’t even think straight. You’ve seen your fair share of “bugs” and rabid disfigured animals that grow out of their hosts like fungus. Some that trail behind like lost children with broken crackling legs - a stench that only accompanies the open wounds whose maggots reach out so helplessly. Disturbing things. For all of it you’ve seen, you’re lucky to say that those cases are few and far in between.
But this,
It has many hands and many faces.
Each accompanied by its own set of teeth. Curling lips that stutter as they rise, etched in lipstick and gum; you find mint leaves hidden in the valley of its tongue, coiling as it softly sings. Watching from afar as it hobbles on its haunches like a drunken man, or of fawn newly grazed. It is steady - and constantly moving. It buzzes like a million bees and yet the man standing next to it is seemingly unaffected.
And so are you.
Your gentility becomes you as you politely bow for the man who you’ve so gracefully led to Mr. Minoru’s office. A practiced curtsy is usually enough to get your usual guests commenting under their nose at your bosses taste in assistant’s, but this man is quiet as he walks past you. So above your head that it almost feels like he doesn’t even know you exist. And that feeling is… off putting to say the least.
You close the door behind him as your boss starts on introductions.
“Ah, so you’ve met my beautiful assistant!” He reaches out his hand. “Minoru. Nice to meet you.”
The genuinity in the man’s smile fastens his eyes into slits as he steps forward to return the shake. “Geto, likewise.”
“Geto, huh? I heard the old man sent you for an investment proposition. My guess is it’s something… traditional?” Minoru gestures toward his garbs.
He’s somewhat clinical in his attempt to look lighthearted, but the sigh he blows out feels trusting. “So this isn’t selling “contemporary” huh?”
Minoru laughs and the thing beside him whimpers.
Your fingers twitch against your work skirt.
You’re a distant shadow lingering behind the conversing men as you step to your post on the far side of the office wall, heels clicking quietly when you bend to fix yourself adjacent to Mr. Minoru’s desk. — You’re not expected to listen much to the conversation, or even understand the matters on which they talk about. Just straighten your back when your boss snaps his fingers and follow obediently when he coos an order.
But even if that weren’t the case, you’d say it’d be hard to pay any attention to anything other than whatever the fuck that is hunched beside the man standing just a few feet away. Singing quietly under its breath and repeating the tune like a prayer. Fearful, shaken, pleaful, dread inducing; overlapping in its many mouths. Your fingernails quietly scrape against each other in your attempt to remain neutral but from a keen eye you’re jarred. Disquietingly moving your eyes from the two men still talking adjacent from you and then it again.
It’s looking at you.
You force down a swallow when Minoru calls your name.
“Quiet thing, isn’t she?” Your boss comments amidst the conversation as you approach them. “Could almost forget she’s here if it weren’t for the eyecandy,”
You smile at him like he’s flattering you but it’s muscle memory. “Sir?”
“Gather up those papers from your desk over there, sweetpea. And hand it to the nice man.”
You almost don’t even wanna turn your back on it.
But against your own anxieties you do as you're told. Even with your nerves frayed as they are. You keep your posture as you hastily skirt to your desk and back across the room again. Nimble, slightly shaken fingers lowering to place it in Geto-san’s hand but he doesn’t acknowledge you even when you smile. Vacant eyes. Bored of you already. —- You don’t know if you should feel more offended or alarmed. But in your curtsy before backing away you decide to split the difference and go for disturbed.
Avant-garde. This guy just gives you the fuckin’ creeps.
He works in health, apparently. From what you’ve gathered in the continuing conversation, he’s a spiritual man who offers health by spiritual means. It’s not a very groundbreaking admission, especially from a man in traditional garb, but he assures that his practices have long surpassed ground theory and have been proven to guarantee actual results. From refractory diseases, mental illness, visible injury; his methods could completely eradicate the need for traditional medicine and take the health industry by storm.
But money is a long factor, longer in the doubtful and non-spiritual. “Non-worthy.” It sounds pointed the way he slips that in, but your red flags aren’t shared with your less than convinced boss.
“Spiritual healing sounds great and all, Geto buddy. But you’re directing services to a pretty biased market.” Minoru crosses one of his legs over the other from his perched position against his desk. “Even with the facts, the money’s in objectivity. You’d get more bang for your buck just saying any Yamada worth his salt can walk in and get rid a’ his sniffles for the right price. - Religion ‘ll just turn people off.”
Geto smiles patiently. “Ah, Minoru-san, we’re not religion based. Religion promotes powerlessness. Our services come from practical people.”
You watch as the creature messily swivels on its crooked legs when he invades its space by leaning back a little. “But to insert certain biases kind of sweetens the deal, doesn’t it? People like things that make them feel special. Even the most useless people should wanna prove themselves in some way, right?”
What a crooked way of thinking.
At your quiet displeasure the mass behind Geto wheezes painfully, wincing when you lock eyes with it. Its song pitches and warbles, chops a little like it’s weeping; but even in its effort to resume its discontent is palpable.
You could almost feel acknowledged by it. By its wandering eyes and its tightened misshapen shoulders. Almost as off put as you are from its spot in the middle of the room. The more you look at it, the more it starts to evoke pity. Even in its unsightliness, it looks misplaced and afraid. - Its song breaks like a cry for mercy and the closer you look at it the more recognizable its purpose becomes.
There are knots in its balmy skin so engorged they bleed and tear. Fabric mincing over fictional scabbing and prayer beads hanging out of its gashes. Every twitch it makes reverberates ricey out of rhythm beats akin to maracas and its song, as out of key as it is, is reverential. Powerlessness. Anodyne through faith. You barely find yourself pitying the afflictions of affected people but in the context of this conversation - it’s watering eyes; you feel empathetic toward this thing and by extension Geto-san.
You assume something awful must’ve started that way of thinking.
Should you even stick your neck out for this guy? You’ve dealt with bigger, more violent ones in any case. But this creature seems peaceful. Following faithfully on its hosts haunches as it waits patiently beside him. You’ll have to be fast and unflashy about it, hopefully the stench from that thing won’t make you hurl on impulse. But if not out of mercy, it would be nice to have it out of your line of vision.
Your eyes cross it again. It’s many eyes well with anguish. You decide that at your next opportunity you’ll get rid of it promptly.
As luck would have it Mr. Minoru’s personal phone rings.
He’s quick in his apologies as he fishes it out of his pocket. Passing a smile to Geto as he quickly bows and makes the few long strides it takes to step out of the door and into the hallway, and a few short snaps in your direction as he points you to the concessionaires reserved for his clients near the door.
You’re practiced as you dip for the little fridge on your left, carefully sliding out a glassed bottle of water from the door and a plastic bag of sliced apples.
“Would you like a snack while you wait, Geto-san?”
He ignores you.
Through a quietly exasperated sigh does he slide his phone out of his hakama and pointedly decide not to acknowledge your awkward stance at the far end of the room. — You know he ignores you because the silence that otherwise permeates the spaciousness of your boss's suite is momentarily disrupted by the sound of your voice bouncing off the walls; followed again by that frigid silence.
This is the guy you’re trying to help.
Even so, your embarrassment is brushed aside in favor of making your way to the small coffee table between him and the other leather seat parallel to his. Thin pencil skirt riding a little as you take wide steps to the little spot that separates him from the empty seat - and you from the thin sliver of carpet standing between he and the now quivering mass.
You bend to place the treats gingerly beside him.
And when you rise you reach for it.
There are practiced fingers circling around your wrist before you can even touch it.
Your fear is potent enough to turn its broken hums into racking sobs as you freeze in his sudden grip. Firmly clasped onto you as he raises your arm over your head and forces you to jolt back with a stuttered breath. Faint greyed markings on the palm of your hand fade but they’re caught under his watchful eye, and through your shock you watch his expression switch.
From confusion, to intrigue, to pure excitement.
Your shock teeters on horror as his pupils dilate. “Now, just what were those pretty fingers planning on doing?”
He seems to revel at the sheer bewilderment that colors in your pretty face from where you nervously stare up at him. Doe eyes lit up by headlights, and the radiative heat of suddenly being this close to his predatory gaze. You stammer. “Wh-? Y-You know it’s-“
“Brought it with me, didn’t I?” He speaks lowly as he circles his thumb over your wrist. “Can’t say I don’t appreciate your concern though, sweetheart.”
You shrink. The absurdity of intentionally carrying a burden like this is as mind boggling as it is chilling. Dread inducing, even. With the kind of bad juju that thing emits there’s no other reason to purposefully let it fester beside you than for motives deeply depraved. Deeply disturbed. The way the air around him murkens and electrifies, and a glint in his eye that makes you feel like prey. — He’s looking at you like you’re dinner right now. And something about that feels trillions of times more frightening than any typical rubbernecking.
After being treated like a ghost by this man this whole time. Now he’s looking at you like you’re a slab of meat spread out for him. Succulent and tenderized, pliant under his fingers. Your soft eyes are rigid with fear as his other hand reaches for you blithely, larger fingers dipping in your loose hair and scooping it gently forward. You glance at it from the corner of your eye.
Smoke curls around his palm.
You suppress with a quiet intake of breath.
Geto-san’s cheeks pinken as he gleefully smiles, emboldened by a genuine tinge of ardor. You do your best not to flinch but it’s futile, his chilled fingers consolingly caress your face as he tuts; and gazes at you like he’s committing you to memory.
“Be patient for me, yeah? I’ll be done in a minute.”
You can’t even begin to guess what that means.
But before you can inquire he’s shushing you with a finger up to his lips. Playfully shooing you away as Mr. Minoru’s footsteps patter closer, and you clumsily re-fit yourself into your professional mask.
“Sorry ‘bout that, pal. Forgot about another meeting I was supposed to attend a little earlier,” He pockets his phone. “No one’s fault.”
He leans against the cliff of his desk where Geto-san’s planted himself again. Minoru glances at the unopened bag of apple slices. “Ah, _____, baby. You were supposed to hand him the good stuff.”
“I’m so sorry, sir.”
“No worries.” Geto laughs airily. “How could anything look nearly as appetizing when you’ve got an assistant like that walking around?”
Your ears burn as Mr. Minoru snorts in kind. “Yeah, fair enough,”
He rolls up his sleeves. “A’right, princess. How bout you hop on over to my lounge and break open the good brandy for my guest and I. Bring us the crystal set. Can you do that?”
—-
The decanter in your hand falls with a dull thump.
There’s no… logical explanation for what you’re looking at right now — Who you’re looking at right now. In any other circumstance deep purples would be expected. Blotched boysenberries and flossy reds, dotted with strained blues. You’d expect tearing - bleeding, audible ginger snaps of tendons and extended bone. A scream even, no matter how silent; all are logically expected. Death is logically expected.
But seeing your boss stretched out like leather, not a full five minutes after leaving him alone with this man, is not.
Your eyes frantically skirt over your boss's heaving corpse from your exposed position at his closing entrance. Watching in repulsed terror as his skin tears and bruises, familiar prayer beads falling out of his flesh like stuffing. - His eyes are rolled agonizingly into the back of his head, mouth opened in a scream. His blood sizzles against the maple of his desk and you can do little but stare in horror.
You flinch as the mainline on his desk starts to go off but you’re no sooner cringing at the way his arm breaks just to reach for it. Bloody fingers pushing the receiver, and cheeks tearing just to respond.
His unchanged voice somehow makes it all the more horrifying. “Hi, Souza. Thanks for getting back to me,”
“Yeah, do me a favor,” You back into the door. “Route about ten million to Geto-san’s organization under investment. And be a dear and sign the invoice for me, would ya?”
You’re gonna be sick.
“So, you’re out of a job now, huh?” You nearly yelp.
Geto-san’s standing just over you. “I’ve got a pretty similar position opened up,” He says casually. “‘Wanna work for me?”
You can barely push out a word. Which, kind man that he is, helps you out by deciding for you. “Ah, Great! I can break you in on Sunday. Here’s my card.”
He smiles kindly as you hesitantly pluck the laminated card from his fingers. Looking at you under mirthful eyes that chill more than they comfort.
“If you’re worried about pay, I can give you double of whatever that monkey gave you. Maybe a little extra if you’re as good as he says you are.”
But before you can recoil at the thought of being stuck under the same kind of boss, with the extra caveat of being a psychopath; he adds with a hint of challenge. “That is, if you can get rid of our friend for us.”
You follow his glance to the creature wearing your boss like a hand puppet.
Do you even have a choice?
Geto-san watches with a keen eye as you warily approach the blinking, bleeding corpse behind your late boss’s desk. Heels clicking slowly against his wooden floors, skin prickling at the thought of even getting close to this thing let alone touch it. There’s a smell that you notice as you move closer. A rotten, discrepant smell that pushes as much as it pulls. Aging, airless skin, barreling toward cell death; only marginally slowed by the alkaline smell of embalming fluid. Too old. Too sour.
But there’s something about it that almost — Hypnotizes. Evokes a kind of nostalgia that almost completely disarms you. Church pews and goatskin, leather hardbacks under frilly gloves; and those damn prayer beads. You can almost hear your grandmother’s voice. The minty sweet taste of stale candies tinted by the perfume in her purse. ~ Watching worship but not understanding it. A contact high of conviction. Your boss’s blood spills and it means something sacred, something reverent. And the closer you get, the more that sacrifice feels for the better.
You flicker a glance in Geto-san’s direction. This guy had this shit on standby?
It’s clammy when your fingers finally graze its skin. Sweaty and twitching, like every touch is a pinched nerve; like every stroke stimulates. There’s movement under the first layer, a hissing under the second. It’s mania seeps off of it in droves and the more you linger on it, the more your stomach twists.
You draw back your hand and rub over the difference in texture.
The room is temporarily endowed with smoke at the snap of your fingers.
They’re both gone when the vapor quickly dissipates, blood formerly staining expensive maple now replaced with its originally polished shine. As well as his chair, his area rug, and any other evidence that could connote what truly horrific fate the man in question had suffered in this very room.
Which is enough to send Geto-san into an ecstatic flurry of applause. “H-Holy shit. Where have you been all my life?”
He’s more focused on the way the weight in your lips shift rather than that being because of a frown. Regardless, you’re still a picture despite it. “You’re gonna fit nicely. — My address is on the card. Come by nine? I’ll have breakfast ready by then.”
He turns with a relaxed lilt toward the exit. “You and I are gonna have a lot of fun.”
The door clicks as the lock disengages.
“Don’t make me come looking for you.”
reblogs are appreciated <3
#geto x reader#soon as he saw you were a sorcerer u started lookin fine as hell ngl#‘oh so they make em like that now?? sheeet’#how much you wanna bet that ‘pure excitement’ was dead just him realizing how pretty you are at once#things started making sense WAY too quickly. you were coming with him REGARDLESS#geto suguru#jjk geto#getou suguru x reader#jujutsu geto#geto x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk x y/n#jjk imagines#jjk#jjk anime#jujustu kaisen#yandere jjk#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere geto#fem reader#yandere geto suguru#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen imagines
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would you? (pt. 2)
Negan x Reader
Summary: Your mom died when you were 15, your Aunt Lucille was given custody even though she was battling cancer. When the world gets upended and Lucille dies, Negan is all you have, but he isn’t cut out to be a parent. When he becomes the leader of the Saviors and takes residence in the Sanctuary he’s almost a stranger. No one wants anything to do with you because you’re Negan’s “daughter”. So when you confront Negan about needing company, he obliges. You don’t realize that the feelings you’re developing are inappropriate, but Negan does.
Setting: Height of the Saviors era Sanctuary, Negan’s bedroom.
Warnings: SMUT, age-gap (reader is 18, Negan is early/mid 40’s), virgin!reader, manipulation, guardian!negan (technically it’s Uncle!Negan and it IS mentioned explicitly), oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, stocking!kink, innocence/corruption!kink, reader is described several times as a doll/toy, read at your own risk ok
Word count: 3.3k
A/n: uhm, my heart was racing the entire time I was writing this please read at your own risk fr
// Part 1 //
masterlist
18+ mdni
I was just bending over to grab my pencil, coach.
For a while, you don’t bring up what happened that night. Going to lunch like everything’s normal. Negan is even more disturbed by this than he was by your innocent flirting. You don’t bring it up, but you’re different. Reminding him of some of his former students. The girls with obvious crushes - ones they were trying to hide but actively weren’t. They’d do things that could easily be explained away.
Sorry, I only packed these shorts today. I didn’t realize they were against dress code.
It was easy to not look then, to hardly be affected by silly teenage girls who had no idea what they were doing. He could go to the teachers lounge and flirt with the TA’s if he was really looking for someone younger. But younger isn’t necessarily what Negan liked. ‘Innocent’ wasn’t something he thought he could get into. But with you? He had all control, every single aspect of your life was in his hands - and he knows he fucked up. He knows he fucked you up… but he’d gone and fucked himself up too. Finding himself wanting to teach you everything. So caught up in the knowledge of how bad you want him makes him feel like a king - moreso than any amount of wives. You only wanted him. You only knew him.
Oblivious to Negan’s dirty secret and because he’d threatened to stop seeing you if you continued this flirting behavior you stick with subtle stuff. Wearing even lower cut shirts, mini-skirts and stockings. And sure, the stockings had holes in them. But Negan liked that even more than if they hadn’t. It let him imagine you weren’t this pristine untouched thing. He wasn’t sure which was worse; fantasizing about you as this perfect little doll that’s never been held by anyone, that doesn’t know anything about a man’s body or as this thing he’d corrupted. Giving you romance novels? What an amateur mistake on a colossal scale.
When you started wearing skirts he could smell you. Your wet cunt, sweet and unmistakable, every single time you walked into his bedroom for lunch. He tries to ignore it, tells the kitchen to make more pungent food, wears cologne, but it doesn’t matter - he could pick your scent out of a line-up of the undead, having had weeks to memorize it.
Negan’s cologne only makes you more wet for him. You can barely make it through lunch anymore. Trying your best to keep up with the conversation that you’re almost positive he’s phoning in as well, but it’s not easy when all you can think about is him stuffing you full on the bed that sits a dozen feet away. You’re desperate to make a move and terrified that any move you make will disrupt everything.
You scour your books for some kind of clue on what to do next, how to make it impossible for him to say no - but there’s no obvious answer. With no experience to tell you that Negan was losing his goddamn mind waiting for you to make a move or proposition so that he could oblige it.
He gets sick of waiting. Sick of drinking down his disgust with himself. It only makes the fantasies more vivid. Almost tangible and right there. All he really had to do? Touch you. And he knows it.
He’d stopped getting you gifts and novels after that night, but today? Today he had something real fuckin’ special.
You’re sitting across from him eating… only desserts? Weird choice, but still delicious. “What’s the occasion?” You ask, taking a bite of the strawberry shortcake set out in front of you.
“Do I need a special occasion to treat my favorite girl?” He says it so casually, but he’s never said anything like that to you before.
“Okay,” you breathe out a chuckle, “who are you and what have you done with my uncle?”
“Woah now, ‘Uncle’?” The title made him visibly uncomfortable, but not because he didn’t like it. He was too far gone with you, and now anything that made it more taboo just spurred his hunger further.
You breathe in deeply, as if you’d just confessed to something. Simply put, you had. He knows how bad you want it. He can smell it on you, and you didn’t care he was your family. Not even just your almost supposed ‘guardian’, no. You saw him as your uncle and you still wanted it. Bad. “Yeah, you are my uncle, aren’t you?”
“That makes you my niece.” He says it like it’s news. Not understanding that he’s trying to gauge your reaction.
For some reason, it makes your heart pound. Your ears get hot, and that same smile you’d tried to will away that night he’d forced a confession out of you (in the form of a moan at his touch) blossoms on your face. Pink cheeked and starry eyed, “It does,” you nod, you really don’t know any better, “Anyway, what’s all this about?”
Negan scrambles for an answer that isn’t the one he can’t say out loud, “Missed your birthday, wanted to… make it up to you.” His voice is low, droning, and it makes you shift in your seat, crossing your legs. Negan notices and smirks at your body giving you away. You’re so easy.
“Oh… thanks.” You take another bite of the shortcake before moving your fork to his plate to take a bite of chocolate cake. He lets you, he’s been letting you get away with so much more disrespect than he’d ever allow from anyone else. Telling himself that no teenager shouldn’t be getting away with little stuff like that, but really it’s because he likes it. He wishes you would take more control, and just ask him already. He’d wished for weeks that you would press yourself up against him like you had before he’d made you aware of your own feelings for him. And he hates that he told you that you weren’t allowed. That it was wrong. Because it is, but he doesn’t care anymore.
He’s sick of waiting for you to understand how to make a move, “I got you a little something too.”
It’s almost unbelievable that he’d gotten this for you. One of the saviors had tried to smuggle it to keep for himself, and once Negan saw it… he couldn’t think of something better for you. “Now close your eyes,” he purrs.
You slam your eyes shut and put out your hands eager to receive another gift. Feeling a hard plastic case being slipped into your fingers, “Now open them.”
It was a… you had no idea. Looking up at him in confusion you’re met with a look of complete and total satisfaction from Negan. Smiling wide at your reaction. “What is it?” You whisper, smiling back.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll show you.” And he winks. He fucking winks. You’re a mess. You’re putty. You have no idea what this little pink egg shaped thing is, enclosed in the plastic balanced in your hands, but you know it’s something… different. He can tell you still have no clue what it is, what it’s for, but he sits and waits for your thanks.
You can feel it, your legs tremble as you’re about to stand up but you stop yourself. You’re not supposed to flirt with him. And he told you that that’s what hugging him is. At least when you do it. You look to him, chewing on your lip, you want to feel him pressed against you so bad it’s making your knee bounce in anxious anticipation. You think about the fact that if you were hugging him you’d be able to smell his cologne even stronger, maybe you could even get away with kissing him on the cheek. After all, you could just blame it on the gift again.
He’s just sitting there, leaned back in his chair, staring toward the window. It would be so easy to just… you get up and crash down into his lap. Draping your arms around him, pulling your face into the crook of his neck like you always do. This time is different, like everything else has been different since that night. You can’t will yourself to move. Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze travels upward. All you can see is his neck, his chin still pointed away like he’s trying to hold himself together. You feel a guilt creeping into your periphery but it’s drowned out by the heat between your legs. Without even realizing you’re doing it, you plant your lips on his neck.
He’s quick to react, his hand coming to grip your thigh just as instinctually as you had kissed him. Negan is sick of waiting, he was not built for this. “Do you want me to show you how to use your gift?”
You’re melting, all your senses dizzy with his hand so firmly on your leg. Feeling his calloused palm through the tears in your stockings, your skin prickles. He puts his one arm underneath your legs and the other under your arms and picks you up, placing you gently back down in his chair. The suspense courses through you, tightening and moving to your limbs. The personification and embodiment of an exclamation point, you’re trembling as he stalks around the room. Taking the still unopened gift off of the table, you hear the click of the knife from behind you as he paces. He’s cutting into it as he leans down and breathes in your ear, “If you want me to stop, you tell me to stop, okay?”
You nod in response, trying to swallow the knot in your throat. He keeps talking, walking around to face you again as he gets the small mysterious device free from its packaging. “I fucked up with you,” you can tell he’s going to start monologuing like he always does, building up the anticipation you already can’t take. Your hands pulling at the hem of your skirt because you don’t know what else to do with them. “I want you to know that I know I’ve made mistakes. I’ve really really fucked up your pretty little head.” As he speaks he moves back around behind you. Cheeks flushing at the compliment. He’d called you pretty.
“But don’t worry, kid,” his voice in your ear feels like his stubble beneath your lips that you’ve imagined so many times, “I’m gonna fix you right up.”
His hand glides down your chest from above you and your body dramatically arches into his touch. Shivering as he moves his way down to one leg, pulling on your stocking to maneuver the limb onto the arm-rest. He does the same with the other, as if you’re some doll he’s positioning. You’re putty, not a single ounce of resistance inside of you. He moves his hand to lift up your skirt, letting it fall to your stomach. Unable to look at yourself in such a provocative position you close your eyes.
“Holy shit, girl.” Negan’s smile devours him as he takes it all in. You’re not wearing underwear underneath your stockings, something he was absolutely not expecting. Your pretty pussy all smashed up against the mesh, your juices seeping through. In the light it almost sparkles. He’s never seen a damn thing like it. He hadn’t even done anything yet, and you were a shaking mess in his chair. Waiting so patiently for him to fix you.
He had planned on putting the little vibrator against the fabric of your panties and stockings, and while he still could… he can’t stop himself from putting his warm hand between your legs instead. He doesn’t want to stop himself, he wasn’t built for that. Fuck the piece of shit vibrator and fuck all of his stupid fucking plans to take this slow. No, he knows what you really need. Him.
His big hand comes to rest on top of your mound, pressing his fingers flat against the wet fabric of your stockings hard. The pressure.. the warmth.. your hands immediately shoot up from your sides grabbing his forearm as you gasp at the feeling. Pulling yourself even more flush against him, any piece of him you can get.
You’re shaking, Negan can’t think straight. All plans out the window, that smell, he needs to taste you. He rubs his whole hand, all four warm fingers, against the sopping fabric in circles for only a few seconds before bringing his hand up to his nose and taking a deep breath in of your scent. (He won’t lick you from his fingers, that’s somehow beneath him.)
You whimper under his touch and whine when he pulls away, but you don’t move other than to put your arms flat against the armrests of the chair. He was going to fix you, right? So you submit, not really even understanding how to react to any of this.
His dick is so hard against the fabric of his pants that it hurts. He tries to readjust, but it only makes him groan. Your neck cranes at the noise, but before you can get a look he’s in front of you, pulling up on the mesh directly above your heat, taking the knife he’d still been holding and cutting into it. The sound of the stockings tearing only makes Negan’s dick harder, revealing your glistening cunt like unwrapping a fucking present. Just for him, all for him. He did this… all of it.
He rips the fabric more before pulling your hips closer to the edge of the chair and kneeling down on one knee. His face buries against you with a haste you weren’t expecting, your body shooting up at the feeling. So sharp and too much, you squirm against his tongue but he keeps you still. Growling into your cunt, “I said I’m going to take care of you, doll, so you have to let me. Stop. Moving. Just…” his tone softens, and he kisses you sweetly on your hood, “relax.”
Negan dives back in more gently this time, taking in the taste of you slowly. Drinking from you, he’s never tasted anything so sweet. So pristine. His tongue swathing in large laps against your lips, you’re trying your best to relax but your orgasm builds faster than you can tolerate. It felt like fucking magic, filling you with stars that buzzed all the colors of the rainbow. He flicks his tongue between your folds, directly onto that spot and your orgasm shoots through you like a bullet. From your core to the top of your head, no orgasm you’d ever had had felt like that. It left you wanting, it wasn’t enough. Your walls pulsate, gushing thick white perfect ecstasy into Negan’s mouth. He snickers against you, his nose resting gently on your still quivering clit.
He doesn’t want to wait - picking you up like you weigh absolutely nothing, bringing you and your dizzy head to lay gently on his satin sheets. Bliss; and yet, you yearned.
Inside.
Your whole body shouting, the personification and embodiment of a fucking exclamation point. His belt clacks against your sensitive folds as he races to get himself inside.
And then, all of a sudden and just like that - you’re whole. His lips smashing into yours in a desperate need to claim every part of you.
When he’d imagined it in his head you were naked, all skin and blush and like sweet honey coating his senses. It was all different, but he didn’t mind you like this. Clothing soaked with sweat and your own sweet nectar; he felt like he was in high school and he’s taking your virginity underneath the bleachers. All limbs and throbbing need and no time, no breath to waste.
He kisses you deep and rough until you can’t breathe and you pull away, still adjusting to his size which you imagine is large from the discomfort inside of you, snaring itself into your vision like white flashes of electricity.
His first few labored thrusts hurt like you imagined it would, though it’s not like anything you’ve felt before. The burn of your walls stretching over him makes your breath hitch sharply in your throat, “That’s a good girl,” he purrs in your ear as he pulls out and slams into you harder. Tears sting your eyes as you nod into his shoulder, silently willing him to keep going. Don’t stop. He couldn’t stop even if you’d asked him too, your pussy is too wet, too hungry and swallowing him whole. He knows what you need, he can tell, even if you couldn’t. You need this.
Negan is seeing fucking stars, your hole stretching so perfectly around him like it never needed anything more, “Fu-uck,” he’s not going to last 5 minutes. He leans back, taking your hips and pulling them off of the bed to stay attached to his while he fucks you like that. Your shoulders still down against the bed, you’d never read about a position like this and it hurts but you like it. Your eyes traveling down his body as he buries himself slowly into you. All the way to the hilt, and that’s when you see it.
“Oh my god,” you breathe, causing him to look down and see what was going on but he had already pulled back.
“Hm?” His tone is amused.
“Do it again,” you whine. He smirks a brilliant flash of white teeth, before his face completely falters at the sight when he presses himself all the way into you again. Both of your eyes wide as the outline of his cock protrudes from your belly.
“Jesus,” his voice is loud, it seems to vibrate your brain against your skull. He draws himself out of you and shoves back in - more unceremoniously than previous. He’d been trying his best to not hurt you, to take it as slow as he could manage; but seeing his hard length poke out of your body was too divine, way too fucking hot for him to not lose any semblance of control he’d had.
Negan drowns you out, your loud screams, your hands clawing at his forearms, as he rails into you. Eyes fixed on your stomach as he watches; he doesn’t even realize you’re cumming until your hips shake violently in his grip. Your walls clench so tight his cock is pushed out. Negan clicks his tongue, as if you’d done something wrong. Moving himself in position back on top of you, his elbows coming to rest above your shoulders, his whole being swallowing you up. Your arms and legs wrap around him to try and still your shaking body as he ruts up and into you like a wild animal, his breathing jagged, his movements much less languid. Rough and desperate and all consuming.
Using your body like a toy to get himself off, he’s hardly paying attention anymore. Grunting curses that you’re trying to memorize through a hazy veil of satisfaction.
He’s. Falling. Apart.
And it’s wet and hot and so deep inside you that you can feel it in your fucking throat. You scream, loud, as he empties himself inside you.
Quickly, too quickly, he pulls himself out. He wants to watch his seed spill out and onto the gray sheets. You’d said you fucking sucked at painting, but Negan thinks this is the most beautiful piece of art he’s ever fucking seen. His cum dripping out of your freshly and newly used pussy in soft glistening strings to pool underneath of you, the white in stark contrast to the dark fabric is something real fuckin’ special.
He’s smiling, kneeling above you with his hands on your stockinged knees as he watches between your legs. You’re in another world, on another planet and lost in your senses. It was everything you’d dreamed it’d be. Heaven.
Negan had every intention on this being a one time thing. After all, hysteria was curable - but as he lays back on the bed to catch his breath he’s already caught dreaming about you in every position, any way he can place you. His perfect little toy, all just for him. Only his.
#negan x reader#negan fanfiction#twd negan#negan smith#negan smut#negan x you#negan the walking dead#negan twd#jeffery dean morgan#jdm
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- Cuffing Season-
His Needs
boyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader
Warnings: established relationship, size kink, roleplay (ish?? not really), dom!gyu, mentions of porn, penetrative sex, explicit smut, mutliple orgasms, forced orgasms, multiple positions, spanking, squirting, grinding, she dresses up for him, this is flithy
Summary: He just has to get his way
Word Count: 2.3k
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“There’s no way in hell I’m putting that on,” you roll your eyes.
“Baby please,” He looks at you with soft eyes.
“Mingyu this is ridiculous.” You scoff.
“I proved I would do anything for you the last time we fucked, I feel like it’s only fair you return the message.” He raises an eyebrow.
“You mean when you cried and called me ‘Mommy?’” You smirk.
“I did not call you that! And you said you wouldn’t bring that up again,” he groans.
“Oh baby…” You coo. “I’m never letting you forget that.”
“Can you just… put it on for me, please? I know you’ll look sexy,” he pleads.
“You’re so perverted Mingyu… I don’t know why you bought this in the first place thinking I’ll wear it.”
“Because I know you, and you’ll put it on for me because you love me and I’m horny. Baby please” He whines.
“This has got to be misogynistic in some way. I’m sure the feminists wouldn’t approve of this.”
“Baby… I just saw something like it online and I thought you would look good in it. Don’t scold me for wanting to be a little adventurous.”
“Have you been watching porn or something? I just don’t understand what prompted this” You raise an eyebrow.
He shrugs. “It’s been on my mind for a while.”
“So you’ve been watching porn.”
“Okay yes, maybe I’ve been watching porn,” He glares at you.
You look down at the outfit he’s displayed for you on the bed. There’s really no point in putting on, you know it’ll only be a matter of time before he’s ripping off what little fabric there is to begin with.
It’s a sexy maid costume he ordered online. He even paid extra for the quick shipping to get it here quicker.
“So what? We don’t have sex for like… 5 days and you start getting off on other women,” you fake disapproval.
He groans. “You know I only watch faceless porn… and I think about you the whole time. Don’t do that.”
“I’m only messing with you Gyu,” you grin and run your finger along the fabric.
“C’mon baby… I’m already half hard. I just wanna see you in it.”
You glance at him, taking note of the semi he’s sprouting in his sweatpants. “Mingyu you really are like a teenage boy,” you chuckle and pick up the costume and make your way toward the bathroom. You’ve teased him long enough.
His eyes light up with excitement and anticipation.
You close the bathroom door behind you and change out of your clothes and into the costume. “Gyu… if I come home and see some kind of sexy schoolgirl outfit, I’m gonna take half the company’s earnings and leave you.”
“I’m not that bad!” He calls from the bedroom. “You know… I think like the absolute most I would wanna see you in is like a… bunny girl senpai outfit. Like that’s all—holy shit–“
He cuts himself off when you walk out of the bathroom.
“I don’t understand why you were being such a hater baby. It’s doing wonders for your tits right now.”
You smirk at him. “It is, isn’t it?”
“Come here.”
He’s quick to pull you onto his lap. He can’t stop himself from staring, you’re just too sexy. Much like his eyes, his hands are quick to wander your body.
You’re so tiny on his lap. Sitting with your legs parted between his.
After indulging himself in a few inappropriate touches, his hands move their way up your thighs and under your skirt. His breath stops in his throat when he realizes you took off your panties.
“No panties? Baby you’re really trying to kill me aren’t you?” He breathes out.
“Just figured I’d make it easy for you,” You smirk, lifting up your skirt more for him to see.
He tilts his head back with a groan. You’re so hot, he really might lose it. His hand slips between where your bodies meet and he palms himself slowly through his sweats with a soft moan.
It’s so lewd.
He’s literally touching himself with you seated on his lap and dressed in next to nothing. There’s already a small stain on his sweats leaking through.
“You really are just like a teenager Gyu. Nearly cumming before we’ve ever gotten started,” You tease.
“Don’t be a bitch Y/n,” He bites back. “I’ll fuck you until you wanna clean for me like a real maid.”
Ugh. As much as you loved dominating Mingyu, you’ll always love his dominant side more. You can’t help it, he’s so big and strong and he can’t stand not being in control. You’ll never be caught complaining about it.
His large hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you him for a rough kiss with no hesitation. It’s sloppy and needy, nothing out to the ordinary with him.
He pulls away, panting softly and licking his lips before reattaching his lips to your neck. He sucks on your skin, leaving dark hickies along your neck and the top of your breasts.
You start growing needy, grinding your bare bottom against the thing fabric of his sweatpants. He’s fully hard now, cock poking perfectly against your clit as you grind yourself down on him.
“Shit baby… you’re worse than me,” he chuckles lightly as he looks down at the large wet patch you’ve left on his sweatpants.
“Shut up.”
A harsh smack lands on your bare ass, causing you to hiss and arch your back, pushing your hips down onto him harder.
He’s so strong.
“You know better than to speak to me like that,” He clenched his jaw.
“ ‘M sorry..” You mumble.
“No you’re not.” He lifts you off his lap and flips you over with ease. He presses your back down, leaving your ass in the air for him. “But it’s okay… I’m gonna make you sorry.”
He pulls his cock out of his sweatpants and rubs it along your folds teasingly.
It’s torture.
You somehow ended up needier than him in a matter of minutes. You’re lying there dripping and unable to see what he’s doing to you. Your walls are fluttering in anticipation.
He can see it all. The way you’re desperately clenching around nothing while you wait for him to fill you up.
He wants to fuck you, but you caught another attitude with him.
You and your damn mouth.
You’ve always had a bit of an attitude problem. Mingyu thinks it’s kind sexy until you catch one with him in the bedroom. It’s one thing to see you catch some sass when you’re talking to someone else. But with him? He’d rather put your mouth to better use.
He pushes the tip of his cock in, giving you a false sense of satisfaction before withdrawing completely with a smirk plastered across his face.
He can’t see how annoyed you are, but he can hear the frustrated groan you let out. “Gyu…”
“Yes my love?” He grins.
“Don’t do this to me. I said I was sorry.”
“But you didn’t mean it.”
“I did!”
He does it again, putting in just the tip before pulling out of you completely. You whine.
He does it a third time, but you’re quicker. Before he can pull out, you slam your ass back, thrusting his length all the way into you.
“Fuck’s sake,” He groans. “You’re horrible Y/n.”
You’re too caught up in how good the stretch of his cock feels to even respond. He takes over, slamming his hips against your ass and thrusting into you harshly.
He holds your hips steady with his big hands, ramming his cock deep inside of you quickly. Your ass recoils with every thrust and he’s left mesmerized.
It’s not long before you feel yourself getting close. He pounds into you so good. His hand snakes between your thighs and his finger circles your clit. He needed to feel you cum around him.
He loves it so much. The way you tighten around him and how you always manage to get wetter.
His finger moves quicker, his thirsts never flattering in pace.
“Oh fuck Mingyu I’m so close,” You warn him.
He doesn’t stop when you cum. He fucks you through your orgasm thoroughly. You’re moaning and crying out his name but he doesn’t stop.
He gives you no time to recover from your state of bliss before he’s leaning over and pushing your head down deeper into the bed. Your back arches more and he can now pound you deeper.
Your hands grip the bedsheets tightly as he rams his cock deep inside of you.
“You feel so good” He moans.
It only takes a few moments before he’s driving you into another orgasm. This one is more intense than the first and your whole body goes numb for a second.
You’re sensitive and overstimulated. You figure this is karma for the way you put it on him last time.
“Gyu… I can’t take it” You whine into the bedsheets. Your voice is muffled, but he knows exactly what you said.
You let yourself believe he’s listening to you when he pulls out of you. For a moment, you’re relieved.
But then he flips you onto your back and fills you up again. “You can baby. Gosh you look so sexy right now… all dressed up for me and crying on my cock.”
You whine out in response.
He holds your legs wide open for him as he fucks himself into you. You’re already overstimulated and tears are starting you prickle the corners of your eyes.
It’s so intense but it feels so good. He fucks you roughly, treating you like a toy intended for his own pleasure.
“Ah-hah Gyu” You moan. “I really can’t…”
“You can baby” He grins as he continues thrusting his cock into you. “Give me one more darling.”
“Mmph- I can’t Gyu. I really can’t” You pant.
“There’s no such thing,” he smirks.
He takes advantage of the fact that you’re so sensitive. He begins thrusting into you at an inhuman pace, pinning your down so your legs stay wide open for him.
It’s so fucking good. His cock rams deep inside of you and his finger circles your clit once more. His pace makes you ache, the tip of his cock brushing deep inside of you, repeatedly hitting the one spot that makes you go mad.
It’s all too much, it happening too fast.
You don’t have time to fully process before he’s forcing another orgasm out of you. It’s so unfair but it’s so fucking good,
You cum so hard you don’t even realize you’re squirting until he pulls his cock out and watches the way you soak the sheets.
You cry out, eyes squeezed shut and the pleasure suffocates you. You feel dizzy and it takes longer for you to fully come down.
His cock is already inside of you again as your body spasms at the feeling of being full again. He pins you down to keep you from squirming.
“You’re making such a mess baby… some maid you are” He teases.
You’re breathing heavily and still trying to recover from the intensity. "Gyu.. I really can't anymore."
"Baby I didn't even get to cum yet," he pouts. "That wouldn't be fair now would it... you had what, three?" He sucks his teeth and continues thrusting into you slowly. "How selfish."
He's really showing no mercy.
Your pussy is already spent. You're still dripping, making it easier for him to slip in and out of you with low effort. His cock throbs and swells inside of you. He's getting close, thankfully.
"You'll let me cum won't you?" He asks. "You wanna let me really ruin this pussy don't you baby? Dressed up for me so pretty, making a mess everywhere. Don't pretend like you don't love it."
You whine.
"You were so confident earlier... that mouth of yours. Not much to say now huh?" he smirks, picking up the pace of his thrusts.
Mingyu himself is surprised he's held out this long. When you were on his lap he was nearly about to cum in his pants untouched. Seeing you like this, dressed up for him with your legs wide open after three orgasms, the sight alone could make him cum. You are just that hot... you have that effect over him.
But you pull another reaction out of him too. One that makes him never want to stop. He really can't help it. You make him want to keep going, he craves more constantly. He can never get enough of you no matter how much to satisfy him.
Your throat is starting to get sore from how much noise you've been making. You rasp out his name and it finally sends him over the edge. He tries to pull out, but you squeeze down on his cock purely out of reaction.
"Fuck," he groans.
Luckily he's stronger than you, so he manages to spill the rest of his load on your inner thighs.
It's a mess.
There's cum dripping out of you and down your thighs, the sheets are still soaked alongside his torso and the lower half of your outfit. Mingyu looks down with satisfaction written on his face.
"I put you in a maid outfit and you end up making an even bigger mess," he grins.
You're still exhausted, hardly able to respond to him. He lifts you up, helping you undress and running a bath to properly clean you up.
He takes the bedsheets and puts them into the washing machine, replacing them with fresh ones before joining you in the bathroom to clean up his mess.
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© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.
#seventeen smut#seventeen#mingyu smut#seventeen drabbles#seventeen mingyu#mingyu#svt mingyu#mingyu drabbles#mingyu svt#kim mingyu#kim mingyu smut#kpop#cuffing season
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❥ . . jealousy, jealousy > joe goldberg
- joe’s happy you’re making friends in london, until he notices the way that stupid writer looks at you.
joe’s hand settles on your hip as soon as the door closes behind him. it’s become a habit since your early stages of relationship. he simply follows as you say your hellos and press your cheek against other girls’ faces with loud kissing noises.
from what you told him, he wasn’t really interested in meeting your friends, if anything he thought of them as one of the many reasons he clung to you a little bit tighter every morning
“y/n, you made it!” joe watches as a peppy blonde throws her arm over your shoulder, not minding how the two of you were almost tangled together.
“hi! phoebe, this is my husband, joe” the blonde brightens up (something joe thought impossible) when you present him. he only nods with a small smile and shakes her hand, despite her attempts of hugging him.
she smiles “come, come. i have to introduce someone to you”
his hand burns into your side, fragments of earlier and your poor attempt of a quickie still in your head as the two of you follow after your friend(ish) to a secluded bar. where a pale, almost your height man sat, swirling his shot of whiskey in its glass. joe recognized him immediately. it’s rhys montrose, the writer nadia had been talking to him about earlier.
“rhys! y/n, the girl i had been talking to you about and her husband joe”
“it’s my pleasure” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. joe doesn’t miss the way his eyes roam you over, throwing the cleavage of your dress a longer stare, he watches you all over, probably imagining lewd scenarios only your husband was lucky to experience.
he wants to leave then and there, but he wants to give it a chance, for you. he can’t think of another reason as to why he would sit there and gulp through this guy’s staring and his always dismissed attempts at flirting with you.
he sees a perfect window when you excuse yourself from the group, something about the powder room, which you never get to, because along the way, he manages to sneak the two of you off to one of many guest rooms.
he knows you felt it too, the way rhyse was staring and making inappropriate jokes, undermining joe and your relationship, inviting you on many scenarios in which he wasn’t included, he doesn’t need anything other than his rough lips and kisses to express what he’s feeling right now.
angry, jealous, possessive? those were just a few of the feelings coursing through him as he moans into your mouth, caving and letting your fingers tangle in his hair and steer him around like a puppy.
“please” your plead breaks him, you look so pretty like this, everytime, even if you were worse than him, kinkier, dirtier, he adored having you like this, under his frame, blushed, sweaty and with your chest racing as if you had just gone running.
“i don’t know doll, what exactly are you asking me for?” his nose nips at your cheek and so do his lips, pressing open mouthed kisses to your skin as he waits for an answer
“fuck me.” he groans when you whisper so sweetly. “please, i want you inside me”
“fucking hell” he struggles to pull away from you even slightly. “you just know i can’t resist when you ask me like that”
there’s some fumbling, but he manages to fish himself out of his pants, tucking your thin underwear to the side before he easily sinks inside you. the two of you make animalistic- guttural sounds at the feeling, and he can’t help when he says
“can’t believe that guy thinks he even has a chance” he chuckles against your jaw before nipping at it, and he just stares. at your furrowed brows, your parted lips. and he listens to your whiny noises and how needy you get for him, and he feels complete.
not as fulfilled as he feels though when he’s sure rhys has heard you, moaning his name over and over until you come.
“y/n?” there’s some incessant knocking, and a faux concerned man on the other side. “are you okay in there darling? you’ve been a while”
“y-yes. yes! im good rhys. i’ll be out in a minute, i think”
“is there anything i can do to help?” god, you wish you could see the two of you from afar. joe’s nibbling at your jaw and neck while your arms around his own keep you closer than ever, your fingers tangling in his hair as you clench your pussy around him. you can’t pretend you’re just touching up your makeup in there. you can care less if the man is waiting for a response, the way joe whispers against you both reassurance and degradations sends shocks of electricity to your poor and abused bundle of nerves.
“are you gonna come?” he chuckles “come on my dick baby, let him hear you. let him know he will never be inside you. that he will never make you feel this good. show him”
“fuck- joe. i’m so close, please”
“i know angel, i’ve got you.” almost on purpose, his hips slam deeper and faster, his thumb quickly presses back and forth on your clit and with his beard grazing against your neck it all becomes too much for you to take. and you’re soon shaking around him, biting his lip after a chain of profanities and his name that you hoped were masked by the music playing outside.
all of this, unaware of the encounter your husband was going to have just outside the door with the relentless writer who did in fact hear everything that just went down
#joe goldberg imagine#joe goldberg#joe goldberg imagines#joe goldberg x reader#joe goldberg x you#joe goldberg smut#penn badgley#penn badgley imagine#penn badgley smut#you imagines#you smut#gif from emotional-emotion
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💌
supervisor!Simon
When you get home, You strip down and get in the shower, warm water hitting your skin. You let out a sigh, the steam loosening the tension in your body. “Jesus christ.” you say aloud, the water feeling way too good on your skin.
You get out of the shower wrapping your body in a towel and sitting on your bed, too lazy to get dressed, you do your best drying your skin, eyelids so heavy from the pressure behind your eyes from the headache. The warmth is still on your body from the shower, you take one good look at the dresser in your room, deciding to just sleep without clothes. You slide under the sheet, and close your eyes, drifting off into sleep.
6 hours later, you’re awakened from your phone blaring next to you. An unknown number is on your screen, Brain still fuzzy from the nap you decide to answer, “Hello?”
“Was this a bad time?” you recognize the voice, “How’d you get my number?” you ask, rubbing your eyes, crusties in your vision. “I have my ways.” he teases and you smile at his voice, “you’re a weirdo.” He chuckles at you. “I know.”
“What phone are you calling from?” You ask mid yawn, “Mine.” your eyes widen for a moment, “You have one of those?” He snorts at your dumb statement, “Bought it just to track you because I’m crazy obsessed.”
“Don’t remind me.” you roll your eyes.
-
“Why not?” Simon smirks while holding his phone. “He’s not on my nice list right now.” You chuckle and Simon's smirk turns into a smile, “Am I on your nice list?”
“You’re on a list, sure.” He Lets out another laugh, adjusting the way he sits on his couch. “I’m on a list huh?” He clears his throat, “You’re on a list too, you know?” He says. You jokingly scoff at him, “I’m on a list?” you yell playfully, “Yeah, I just need to figure out which one.” he says, smiling at the crack in your voice, It sounded like you’d been sleeping. “Please let it be the cool people list.” You plead jokingly, “I don’t think so.”
“Simon, you suck.” you complain playfully. Simon held back on the inappropriate joke, Simon does in fact suck, and maybe he’d like for you to find out. But that’s just him. So he settles for a laugh, and you laugh too, it’s more belly, and loud.
“So, how're you feeling?” He asks, sitting up. “I’m okay.” you say softer, “I was asleep.” you chuckle. “Did I wake you?” Simon's ears perk up. “Yeah, but it’s okay.”
-
“You sure? I can hang up?” You sigh at his concern, “You’re fine, I need to get up anyways.” You say lifting the blanket, shocked you actually slept nude. You put him on speaker and walk around looking for some pajamas to put on, “What’d you get for lunch.” you brought up, “Oh some dumb soup Linda said was good, it was horrible actually.” You can see the disgusted face he makes in your mind, and you giggle at him. “Don’t be mean to Linda.”
“I’m not,she just needs better taste buds.” he says.“What kind of soup was it?” you ask, “Lentil.”
“You take that back right now.” you say shocked, “It was nasty.” he admits, “Now, You are a man of no taste.” You say, while slipping a tshirt on. “Probably.” he half agrees. “What’d you and Johnny get up to?” You roll your eyes at the mention of his name, “We talked.”
“About valentines day?” You hum and walk into your kitchen, looking through your fridge and freezer, eyeing the frozen pot pie. “As he says.” You state. “Well what’d he say?” he prods. “Simon, I didn't know you loved to gossip.” You tease. “Oh hush.”
“I’m joking, but He’s not a fan of our interlinkage.” You take the pot pie out of its package. “Of course he isn’t” he huffs, “Is he like your boyfriend?” he asks. “Well one, he hasn’t spoken to me all week, until today. And two, he hasn’t asked me out or nothing. We just flirt.” Simon only grunts. “Told you he was weird.” You laugh at his response. “A little.” you add.
The microwave beeps in the background, “You heating something up?” he notes your commotion, “Uh, yeah, but you're fine.”
He hums, “He asked for you..” he pauses, “After you left, if that brings any consolation.” he adds. “What’d he ask?” you question. “Where’d you go and If you were okay.”
-
Simon heard you sigh on the other side of the phone, which it wasn’t true, he didn’t ask. He just nodded at your empty desk and went back to whatever it was that he was doing. It pained Simon to lie to you, but he didn’t want to see you hurt. The truth would’ve been ten times better, he knows that.
“I don’t like people telling me what to do, you know?”
“Oh I'm aware.” Simon chuckles and you giggle at his reaction. “I’m serious, like now, I’m actually enjoying talking to you.” Simon’s eyebrows raise and he pulls the phone from his face, shock taking over his body. “Thanks, I guess.” he says, chuckling a little bit. “You don’t say I guess, You say thank you.”
“Let’s not give lessons on manners, Pointer.” You let out a laugh that makes Simon pull his phone from his ear. And that makes him giddy, giggling over the sound of your loud belly laugh.
“Hey, I gotta get in the shower.” Simon says, calming down from the laughing fit you both had, “You trying to leave me too.” You joke, Simon’s heart aches, taking the joke far too seriously. “I just got home from the gym” He says softly, “I stink.”
“I guess.” You say, huffing. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks.“Well duh!” you say sarcastically.
“Bye, bye.”
“Bye, Simon.”
#Supervisor!Simon#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley cod#ghost cod#ghost fanfiction#cod#cod mw2#simon riley x you#ghost call of duty#ghost x reader#ghost mw2
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MINORS DNI 18+
WARNINGS: f!reader | dom!bruce | vag fingering | sexual content | size difference | brief descriptions of intoxication.
“What did you say your name was?” The words of YOUNG!BRUCE WAYNE speak against you, muffled by his lower lip caught between your teeth and the pounding music of the club. You grin coyly, shaking your head as you tug back on his lip, releasing it to let it bob.
“I didn’t.” you reply, reinforcing the mystery of it all. His black hair had a sort of intentional messy look to it, longer in the front and hanging over his forehead in an edgy and fashionable way. The silken locks tickle your forehead as the two of you stand impossibly close together, refusing each other any breathing room as if you’re exchanging the most sacred of secrets.
You don’t know who this guy is, and frankly you couldn’t care less. All that mattered was that he invited you up to a platinum pass VIP floor of this nightclub, got a few drinks in you, and now you’re all over him. Instinctively, you raise your leg to tuck him between your thighs, and he takes the extra mile of hooking his fingers in the crook of your knee to lift it a little further. He’s tall, and there’s a good stretch when he gets you up to his hip.
Lips locked, you can’t ignore what an expert he is with his tongue. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but with specific swipes of his tongue you whimper. If he could hear you above all this noise, he might think you’re in the longest dry spell of your life. To your knowledge, it doesn’t appear like he’s judging you, in fact he’s spurred on by your enthusiasm, tangling tongues like inexperienced teenagers in the dark corner of the floor. Unconsciously, you begin grinding. A subtle rut chasing friction, the thin fabric of your dress separates your bare cunt from humping his crotch. You don’t register fully the kind of desperation you’re giving off. He doesn’t seem to mind at all, clutching onto your leg tighter to encourage you.
When things escalate to an inappropriate degree for his level of comfort regarding PDA, his hand cups your chin, directing you back to break the kiss. You emit a sound of disappointment, your eagerness cut short. To make up for it, he affectionately strokes your skin with his thumb. A kind smile curls his lips, swollen and pink from all of your sucks and bites, but there’s a delicious darkness in his eyes. “Let me show you something.”
You knew this guy was loaded, but you didn’t know exactly how wealthy. He’d brought you to a private room because apparently he owned this place. Your shock was brief, staring at him long enough that he interrupted you with another long and tonguey kiss. He couldn’t be more than a couple years your age. How can he own anything in his twenties? However, as he guided you to a cushioned seat, directing you to straddle his lap, you’d completely forgotten about money. The only thing on your mind now is how cups the back of your neck like his hand belongs there, firmly fixed as he keeps you where he wants you, diving his tongue far into the back of your throat. It’s demanding, and it shoots right through you. Hopelessly aroused, you can feel your slick coating the insides of your thighs. It only worsens when he begins to take off his rings. One by one, silver bands are removed from his long and thick fingers.
An omen. A filthy and delicious omen of what’s to come, pulsing your cunt until he gets his bare hand on it, sweetly caressing you through the tasteful slit in your dress. “Knew you were gonna get some?” he asks, a frustratingly handsome expression of pride and joy on his countenance.
“Shut up.” you respond with a roll of your eyes, patting his shoulder scoldingly. Your nonchalance doesn’t last long because he starts taking your pussy seriously. The tip of his middle finger swipes through, a chill running up your spine because of it. Nervous energy has nowhere to go, and you claw his upper arm, seeking out the provided friction with a gentle rock of your hips. He watches you with interest and parted lips, gauging your every minute reaction as he experiments his touch. As if you’re a puzzle, he’s curious about you, alternating between dipping shallowly into you and rubbing at your little clit. At a particularly sensitive motion, you throw your head back, sitting onto his hand fully. A mild chastising is in order, his free hand clutched onto your hip picks you back up, but he doesn’t withhold giving you more of what you need.
“Easy, pet, we’ve got all night.”
#indy: drabbles#ch: young!bruce#bruce wayne drabble#bruce wayne smut#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x fem!reader#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne x y/n#bruce wayne imagine#bruce wayne fic#bruce wayne fanfiction#dc comics smut#dc comics x reader#bruce wayne#reader insert
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