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byechristopher · 4 months

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Quiet.

– MATT STURNIOLO SMUT.

Author's note: Y'ALL. Shout-out to my Matt girls. This is my first Matt fic ever. I love everything about this fic – I love when women get ready when their crush MIGHT be there, I fucking love petnames and I feel like Matt definitely uses a lot too, I love movie nights and Matt would definitely finger his girl under the covers, I love dom but gentle Matt. I love it. Bye. Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: long and filthy smut. Minors dni! Semi-public?, fingering, petnames, dom!Matt. Didn't proofread!

"So, can you swing by?" I hear my friend's voice through the phone.

"Absolutely. Heading to the market in a bit, grabbing some beers, and I'll be at your place by 9PM. Sound good?" I reply, rummaging through every drawer to find my wallet.

"Perfect, babes. See you there!" she says. After exchanging greetings, I hang up, sliding my phone into the back pocket of my pants.

Considering Matthew freaking Sturniolo will be there, I'm already dressed with makeup on, not wanting to waste a single second; I aim to be there ASAP.

Not that I'm trying to impress Matt (yes I am), but there's been a thing between us (I refuse to call it a "situationship") since we all started hanging out. I've been part of that friend group for nearly two years now, and from the moment I joined, Matt started being quite flirty. And ever since then, we just casually flirt, make-out, have sex.. very casual.

Now, after a few weeks of not seeing each other (though we talk on the phone almost daily), I want to be my best self. I've done my skincare, enjoyed a three-hour-long bath, styled my hair in loose curls, put on comfy clothes – the whole shebang. If I've done this for nothing, I'll scream. Internally.

None of this matters now, because I am outside my friend's apartment, clutching the paper bag of beers in one hand and my scarf in the other one. I knock on the door, patiently waiting but instead of my friend, of course it's Matt who opens it, dressed in his signature black hoodie, black jeans, his usual chain dangling around his neck and his usual rings decorating his fingers. He looks.. delicious.

"Didn't expect me to open the door." it's more of a statement than a question, so I smile and nod.

"Not really, no." I chuckle, not moving an inch.

"You told me you'd be here by 9. So I'm here." he says with that captivating voice, taking a step closer, slowly pulling the door handle without closing it.

Cupping my cheek, he moves in, rubbing my bottom lip with his thumb, gently 1smudging my lipgloss before leaning in for a kiss. I release my scarf to grab his free hand, tugging on his fingertips as I reciprocate the kiss.

"You look pretty." he whispers against my lips and I smile.

Before entering, I pause him, rubbing his lips with my thumb to remove my lipgloss from them. Chuckling at his knowing stare, I say, "come on, let's go!" gently pushing him inside.

God help me, he smells amazing.

After greeting everyone and putting the beers inside the fridge, I take off my scarf and my coat, heading to the kitchen again so I can help with the snacks and the beers.

"Guys, I'm sorry in advance but you're probably going to freeze your ass off. Something's wrong with the heating so I'll just give y'all a ton of blankets." our friend apologises but we all brush it off.

"Bitch, we used to hang out in dark alleys in WINTER when we were younger, literally shut up. We can take it." another friend says, rolling her eyes and I laugh. We are all living the same lives, it seems.

After deciding which movie we will watch, with the snacks and the drinks on the table and the blankets ready to provide us with warmth, we were finally ready. I did have my eye on Matt so of course, when he patted the spot next to him on the small settee while looking at me with a smile, I almost ran to make sure I secure my place next to him.

The movie has started already, Matt is sitting next to me and we have two blankets covering us – his hand is on my thigh and my thigh is over his leg. His thumb is rubbing my leg through my pants and it's much more distracting than I could ever imagine. I do make sure to curl up against his side and he smiles, making sure the blankets are covering me properly.

Not even fifteen minutes have passed and I already feel the need to pee; that goddamn wine. I excuse myself and practically run to the bathroom, only to come back a few minutes later to see Matt almost laying on that settee. All the lights are closed but I know he can kind of see my reflection because of the big TV screen, so he can see the question marks all over my face – where the hell am I gonna seat?

He smiles and he pushes the blankets to the side, sitting up a bit and spreading his legs so I can sit in between them.

Well, fuck.

Sitting down in between his legs, I grab his thighs to support myself and make sure my whole back is pressed against him, leaning back to practically lay on his chest. I pull the blankets over us and he pecks the top of my head, almost as if it was a reward.

Seeing where all of this is going, I thank whoever is up there because our friends are quite far from us, all fully facing the TV. Matt quickly wraps his arms around my waist, resting them on my belly and I can feel how cold his hands are even through my shirt. Minutes go by and I can feel Matt playing with my shirt, his cold fingertips already touching my bare skin, raising goosebumps on it. He drags his short fingernails up and down my sides, making me smile because he knows I like that.

His hands slowly drag themselves up, pulling my shirt over my chest, my breasts now free, "love when you're not wearing a bra." he whispers in my ear and I chuckle.

My hands are on his knees and his hands are on my breasts, cupping them and caressing them, pressing small kiss on my neck, "you smell amazing.." he whispers, "do you think you can be quiet for me, pretty?" he pecks the tip of my ear.

"Yes, Matt.." I whisper back, getting comfortable on his chest, still pretending to watch that movie.

His hands are massaging my breasts, rubbing and pinching my nipples with his long fingers, tugging on them every now and then – it is hard to keep quiet but I've done this many times, I'm sure I can handle it.

Sitting with bent knees now, he hums, pressing another rewarding kiss on the top of my head, "keep playing with your tits for me, hm? I'm gonna take care of you." he whispers and I want to moan just by the words he says.

I nod and cup my breasts instead, massaging them gently as I feel his hands moving down to my thighs – he massages them and spreads my legs open gently, placing his legs on my feet to keep my legs in place. I feel his fingertips hooking around the waistband of my pants and panties, gently pulling them down as I slowly raise my hips to make it easier for him.

"You have to be very quiet now, okay?" he says and I immediately nod, desperately needing him to touch me there, "tease your nipples. I want to see you struggling." he chuckles, keeping me close to him.

I gently hit his leg and he can't help but laugh – I keep teasing my nipples, just like he ordered, keeping my eyes to the television even though I can feel his fingers dangerously close to where I need him the most. Finally, one of his fingers gently touch my clit, rubbing in circle motions as his breath fans over my ear together with the softest moans. I can feel him dragging his finger down, only to chuckle at how wet it is down there – I almost whine.

"God, I wanna taste you. You're so wet." he whispers and circles my entrance, collecting my juices and focusing back on my clit.

"Matty.. please.." I whisper back, my hands now leaving my sensitive breasts, grabbing his thighs instead.

"Please what, sweetheart?" he says and gently slaps my pussy, making me gasp softly.

I couldn't speak – all I can think about is his fingers inside of me. But I feel like if I open my mouth now, I won't be able to keep my moans in. I buck my hips, needing to feel more pressure on my clit but he's having none of it. He pushes my hips down and flicks my clit in the softest way possible, which makes me want to cry.

"You know how it goes. Use your words." he uses two other fingers to spread my pussy, making it easier for him to rub my clit with his middle finger.

"Please.. Matty.. I need.. your fingers inside of me.." I beg between shaky breaths, trying to be as quiet as possible.

"See?" he kisses the side of my head, "there's my good girl." he says and just by that, I almost lose it. But then he finally pushes a finger inside of me and I have to cover my mouth with the blankets.

His middle finger pushes in and out of my wetness and I squeeze my eyes shut, really trying not to let out the moans that have been threatening to come out this whole time. His other arm is wrapped around me, keeping me in place as he rubs my clit and fingers me at the same time with his other hand.

"I'm going to add another finger, baby. I need you to keep that pretty mouth closed, yeah?" he warns – the hand that was gripping my waist is now keeping my mouth closed, I nod anyway.

He slowly takes his finger out and instead, he rubs my entrance with two fingers. He gently pushes and I wince softly in his hand, "you can take it, baby, shhh." he whispers and I really need to fucking moan now. He finally pushes both of his fingers inside of me and I want to cry from how good it feels. My nails dig into his thighs and luckily (for him), he's wearing jeans otherwise it would definitely leave a mark.

He starts moving them in and out, slowly, still covering my mouth under the blankets with his other hand as his lips move to my neck. He starts sucking on the skin, licking it and biting it as he pushes his fingers inside till he's knuckles-deep.

"I wish I could kiss you right now – the way you would moan into my mouth trying to kiss back, turns me on." he takes my earlobe in between his lips, gently sucking on it.

His fingers start moving at a much faster pace and I'm sure that if the TV wasn't this loud, everyone would hear the noises my pussy makes from how wet he made me. He curls his fingers inside of me and I close my eyes, really struggling to keep my mouth closed now, "pretty girl. Do you think you can take a third finger?"

I wrap my fingers around his wrist and slowly move his hand away from my mouth, letting him know I have my moans a little bit under control now (not even close), "please, Matt.. I need it.." I whisper, my voice is trembling. Still, I grab his free hand and pull it closer to me, taking a finger into my mouth and I can feel his bulge against my back.

"Darling, don't do that.." he warns, "or I'll have to fuck you in front of everyone." he whispers and bites my neck.

Finally, he's pushing a third finger inside and I really need to cry. He's finger-fucking me at a fast pace, he's being rough but gentle at the same time, it's overwhelming, "touch yourself, baby. And don't stop."

I quickly move my free hand, rubbing my own clit gently as he fucks me with force – I am so close and he knows it, I can feel myself clenching around his fingers.

"Matty.. Matt.. fuck, I'm – please.." I am almost completely under the covers because I can try to keep my moans in, but my expression definitely cannot be hidden.

"Are you going to cum for me, baby? Come on. Come on my fingers." he's so gentle when he speaks but his fingers are merciless, and that contrast is what drives me over the edge.

"That's it, baby.. that's it." he whispers and I finally cum, trembling a little but I try not to make it so obvious.

He takes his fingers out slowly, caressing my legs in order for me to calm down before he brings them close to his mouth, licking them clean, "when this movie is over, you're leaving with me. I'm eating you out in my car."

He drives me crazy.

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neighborlystudios · 6 months

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・﹒・﹒・ why are ya avoiding me? [2]

Summary: You avoided him at all costs because frankly, he was an asshole, doesn't mean he avoided you though. He constantly flirts with you but you just take it as him trying to anger you. It works, but you start to feel like he's being serious, and you have butterflies in your stomach just thinking about him. However, he finally confronts you one day, and you don't know what to do.

Warnings: 15+, suggestive remarks

Pairing: Jax x GN!reader

Series: Part 1

Notes: I'm not proud of this writing at all, but I'll keep it as it is for you guys!

Did he just say, all the pictures you have of him? How could he have known that? Gulping, you stared him and stop walking, watching as he walks ahead without a care in the world.

“You comin’?” He asks, stopping a few feet in front of you and turning his head to face you, a smirk present.

“Shut the frick up or else I will kick you in the no-no zone” Your eye twitched as you walked ahead of him, taking deep breaths- nobody could actually breathe here so at least you simulated it to calm down. He never failed to piss you off, how the FUCK did get in and why did he go in there at all anyways?

The both of you walked in silence for a few minutes, equal amounts of anger and feeling butterflies in your stomach for the rabbit. The anger was justified, but the attraction was far from it, in fact, the anger came mostly from that attraction. It was ridiculous that you fell for that dumbass rabbit because he was nothing but a tease and a bitch to everyone.

“You're not gonna ask me how I got in, Cutie?” He was fucking with you and he loved it as your door entered your vision. Gripping the handle, you started to turn it before his hand wrapped around your wrist somewhat firmly with his head next to yours yet again. He loved to get up into your personal space huh?

“You can’t fool me, we both know how you truly feel about me, but don't you want to know how I feel about you?” He whispered on the side of your head again- not ear as you had none but a close approximation- and remained there, waiting for a response. There was no need to argue with him about this, he was just taking the piss.

“Oh please, I already know how you feel about me. You flirt to make me mad because you don’t like me. Simple, As. That.” You opened the door roughly and tried to push him away, however, he followed you inside and shut the door behind him. Grumbling, you sat on the bed in shame as he walked over to you with an eyebrow raised. Standing in front of you, he was staring and smirking with his shitty ass face.

“Oh really?” Jax then leaned closer, so close his face was directly in front of yours, causing you to lean back. The rabbit only got closer which led to you falling back on the bed and he pinned you down with both of his hands over yours, face inches now from yours.

“Because I have been flirting with you for so long, waiting for you to make the first move, but I guess I’ll have to” His mouth then covered yours, he was kissing you! You froze for a second, not knowing what to do, then you decided to give in and kiss back, chest fluttering with butterflies. This was actually happening! You relaxed and melted into his affection. His kiss was passionate, but not rough. However, it lasted far too short as before you knew it, he pulled away, staring at you with wide eyes and blush on his round cheeks. You yourself had a very hot face, wide eyes as well looking back. Jax stood up and had a tiny smile on his face, he started to leave.

“Wait! Where are you- where are you going?” You begged, breathless as you quickly sat up, holding your hand out to him.

“To tell Zooble you were too chicken to make the first move” That’s it? He was just going to leave after that? After that kiss? Anger started to seep through you again, how dare he?

“Don’t-don’t leave…please” So why were you begging for him to stay with you? It wasn’t like you were lonely, you were good friends with Ragatha and Kinger! But it felt…different…with him, like you wanted to be vulnerable with him, like you were safe with him.

He stopped as he was just about to open the door, sighing. You knew he had a hard time opening up to others, but maybe he would at least open up to you as he turned around. Jax walked back to the bed and sat down next to you, looking at you with an unreadable expression. He didn’t make any sudden moves though, he just stared down at his folded up hands in his lap.

Nothing was said for an undetermined amount of time, just enjoying having each other around in pure silence. You didn’t expect him to spew his issues right away, it was just important for him to know that he was no longer alone and can have a person to go to for anything. The status of your relationship was up in the air, but it was confusing how you actually felt towards him. You knew you hated him, but you had such a big crush on him.

“Hey, how did you get in my room in the first place Jax?” He was admiring the pictures you had of him on your walls, Caine gave you a camera a while ago and you took them of Jax when he wasn’t paying attention.

“I got keys to everyone’s room Cutie, I thought you knew that since you were so in love with me” He wiggled his eyebrows in your direction, teasing you. In love? As if. As for the key thing, how did he even have all of those keys?

“First off, how the hell do you have keys to everyone’s rooms? Second off, I am NOT in love with you, it’s…it’s…” You were at a loss for words, it wasn’t love, but what? A silly crush? It’s not like you had many options here in this digital world, most people were already abstracted before you arrived, nobody really sported a human appearance here, and you had next to no memories of your old life in the real world.

“Some secrets are best kept secret” He winked at you “And you totally are in love with me, heh” He chuckled with sad eyes as he sighed, looking down at his feet. You sensed a shift in his tone, now wanting to change the conversation.

“We better uh- leave before they get worried huh?” You looked towards Jax as he was looking through your stuff like it was his, but he was very slow about it, yet not methodical.

“Yeah, sure” He was seeming slightly absent now, voice hollow, as he set down the small figure on your desk and swiftly exited your room with coldness. What the hell got into him?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Ao3 . Part 1

#jax #jax x reader #tadc #tadc jax #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus jax

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dazai-ritualist · 1 month

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“DO YOU THINK YOU’LL KILL FOR ME ONE DAY?” YES, OF COURSE I WILL, MY DARLING.

— manipulating yan!alastor + yan!vox was easy. after all, he’s a huge softie for you.

— lots of cursing + sex mention! (vox)

— lol!! after u read voxxy’s part, did u notice i said worse instaf of wordt? im super good at eng! 😈😈

— yan!alastor

you’d been acting out at this club for some time now— breaking property, starting a fight, and even lighting a fire. that last one did it for the owner, he finally banned you from the place, kicking you out indefinitely.

unfortunate, since it was your hangout spot for all kinds of mischief. perhaps— just maybe, there’d be a way to weasel your way back in? or, if not that, at least make him suffer.

a sniff came from you as you teared up, wondering about where else to have your fun. “ohh, my darling, is something the matter? you can tell me, i’ll make that problem go away.” alastor said as he walked into the hotel’s leisure room, his hand patting your back.

you tried to get the words out of your mouth, but it was simply too hard to breathe with the tears that poured down your face. “take your time, my doe… it’s okay.” alastor cooed with a slightly patronizing tone, as if he was the one in control right now.

“s-some club-owner… h-he called me degrading names, and then… he kicked me out…” you frowned at alastor, sniffing every now and then. “my doe, what exactly did he call you?” alastor asked, his voice slightly losing the static as well as having a more sinister edge.

as you listed the names the man had ‘called’ you, alastor pulled you closer to him as his anger began to boil. “it’s alright, my darling. a club with an owner like that is not worth it.” he smiled widely, brushing your hair gingerly before he planted a kiss on your forehead.

“besides, you’ll never see this man ever again. say, what did you say the name of this club was?” he asked before you whispered the club name to him. “i see… well, my little doe, it turns out that i must teach this man a lesson.” alastor stood up as his anger manifested into his body, elongating his limbs.

“you’re gonna kill him on radio? just… be kind… no one deserves a painful death.” you frowned in fake empathy. that fake empathy which would motivate alastor’s anger even more. “oh, dear, you are just too kind for hell. this man disrespected your honor, it’s simply fair that he receives something equally as humiliating.”

his hand rested on your chin, kissing you one last time before he left to find this disrespectful sinner. “now, if you’ll excuse me… someone has to be taught some manners. i assure you, love, that i’ll return by… dinnertime.” he promised before heading out the hotel, prepared to rip this man’s soul out of his body and make an example out of him for any other sinner who even dares to disrespect his little doe.

— yan!vox

are you the problem? nah, couldn’t be possible. if you were the problem, you wouldn’t have this lovely man as your boyfriend, now would you?

“ugh, then that bitch fucking unfollowed me! i don’t even know what i did to that fucker.” you sighed dramatically, frowning to your boyfriend through the facetime. “honestly, i don’t even know what you saw in her. you’re better off without, babe.” vox shrugged.

“and!! you wanna know the worst part?!?” you yelled out, face scrunching in pure dislike. “and what’s that?” vox asked. “that little bitch is yapping all over the city about you and i.” you rolled your eyes.

“ah..? she is? what exactly is she saying?” vox grunted as he glowed in anger. “she was ah… calling me your escort or whatever…” you scowled.

“tch, whatever! i’ll get over it— or, something.” you sighed, falling into your chair, as you closely eyed vox’s expression.

"aha... i'm glad you can let things go so easily, dear... now, i’d love to stay in call a bit longer, but i really have to take care of some important business right now." vox grunted, flying a quick yet lovely kiss to you before he ended the call.

okay, none of that happened— at least most of it didn’t happen. that girl... she was just pretty fucking annoying, always whining about how badly she wants to get fucked, jesus... close your fucking legs for once, yeah?

to be fair, on her own part, she was quite powerful. so, killing her yourself wasn't exactly a good option. instead, why not get your boyfriend to do it?

best case scenario, vox kills her, nothing else. worse case, vox simply hypnotizes her into selling her soul to him. ugh, imagine seeing that bitch's face everyday.

then again, you'd see her all sad and pathetic everyday cause she sold her freedom away.

either way, it's not looking too well for her.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #yandere alastor #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor the radio demon #yandere #yandere vox #vox x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox

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imrllytootiredforthis · 7 months

Note

any thoughts abt yandere beomgyu or taehyun? 👀

gn!reader

warnings: yandere subs, dom reader, reader is kinda (really) mean, bully beomgyu (for beomgyu's part), bully reader (for taehyun's part), it's smut with a sub yandere so more stuff along those lines, etc.

beomgyu:

i will preach the sub bully yandere beomgyu until the day that i die-

he's such a spoiled, conceited brat that feels like he can step on anyone he deems 'deserves it' and get whatever he wants with the point of his finger

until he meets you,

who will put up with none of his bullshit, giving him none of the reaction of what he wants but maybe that's what makes him so interested in you

maybe it's the fact that he doesn't know how to deal with his emotions in a proper manner

or the fact that he's head over heels for you but doesn't know how to show it other than jeering at you in the hallways, calling you names as you walk by

but he quickly realizes that maybe you're not the best person to try to torment (pt.1 and pt.2 of previous bully!beomgyu)

because as mean as he can be, he knows you can be so much meaner than him

but maybe he likes that a little too much

even after all that he continues his little games, seeing just how far he can go, just how far he can piss you off until you're on him, making him 'regret ever being such a little bitch'-his words, not yours

he starts rumours about you, nasty ones that you can't seem to shake from the others susceptible to his influence

they'll believe anything he tells the, all because he has a pretty face and a self-acclaimed big dick

(which is, admittedly, partially true but you'd never tell him or anyone else that)

it would be a shock to anyone, really,

that beomgyu,

the guy who badmouths and bullies you on a daily basis,

tripping you in the halls and sticking crude things to your locker, causing problems and pointing the finger in your direction.

no would suspect that he,

is nothing but a whore on his knees for you behind closed doors, willing to do anything and everything for you to call him a few names.

that he sits on his knees on the tile floor of the dirty bathrooms after school, long after people have left for the day but not late enough that there won't be a few who've stayed behind for whatever other reason

that he gets off to this very idea, face red with the humiliation of it all.

moaning and whining under the eyes of the once again beomgyu - acclaimed 'school slut', fisting his cock as he desperately tries to get off,

begging, pleading with you to just touch him, just please, please, please bring him some relief.

you only roll your eyes, tugging his head back by his hair.

and he loves the fact all too much that he can see the anger that's been simmering in your eyes for weeks finally bubble to the surface. the sadistic mean side that you keep hidden from everyone else

"and why should i touch you?" your voice is a sneer that makes his cock throb in his hand. "because i'm a whore who slept with the teacher to get good grades?"

his eyes are wide, needy, greedy.

he's too used to getting whatever he wants. he's too used to people falling to their knees around him just because he's a rich boy with a pretty face.

"just, didn't want anyone else to want you-" he pants, your fingers threading through the all too soft strands of his hair. "you're mine."

"No."

he lets out a yelp when your shoe nudges against his dick,

rough and so fucking dirty but it's you and you're finally, finally touching him

you need to teach him a lesson.

"i'm not yours. and you're fucking dumb if you think i am."

one that he won't forget

"because why would i be if i was just a 'good fuck' but had some weird kinks." you laugh dryly, remembering the glint in his eyes as he stared you down, whispers formulating all around the hall about you and him.

"the irony, that you're spread out on the ground of the bathroom floor like some kind of dog, panting and begging for a treat from me? calling you a pathetic whore? and i'm the one with the weird kinks here."

you scoff

"you wish i let your pathetic dick anywhere near me, much less fuck me down into a mattress."

he can barely focus on what you're saying,

only on the feeling of your foot grinding down onto him.

he should find this demeaning,

disgusting,

wrong.

he should shove you away and get the fuck out of here with whatever decency he has left.

but he doesn't have any.

he enjoys this more than he could ever shamelessly admit, being here under your mercy

forced to be down onto his knees, stepping down on his dick as you degrade him

he could never say it aloud

but it isn't that hard to see from body language alone

the way he looks up at you with hearts in his eyes, as if you're some kind of god, blessing him with your very presence

adoration

and awe

and pure and utter love.

every cruel word dripping from your lips like honeyed venom, making his heart beat faster and his cock throb harder.

"you're fucking disgusting."

his hands fly around to grip onto your thighs, fingers digging into the fabric of your pants,

eyes lidding in bliss

"imagine if they could all see you now, spread out like this. would they idolize you then?"

he could lie and say that he didn't like it when you pulled his head back, fingers pressing into his jaw to open his mouth up,

before spitting on his tongue.

be it would be so obviously a lie.

he could also lie and say that he didn't go dumb at the taste of your saliva on his tongue, swirling around with his own before dripping down his throat

-it's the closest he's ever gotten to actually kissing you

he could say that he didn't, embarrassingly cum all over himself from it, letting out a strangled cry as ropes of it stain onto his ridiculously expensive shirt and pants

and your shoe

all while his eyes never leave yours.

looking up at you with the devotion of being the only thing that can manage to make his heart beat this fast

"now lick it off, you dog."

taehyun:

and you know what?

for the sake of these, let's just have it the opposite way for taehyun.

mean, bully reader who taunts him all day, calling him names and cornering in the hallways.

shy, lone tae who lets it happen, his head turned down, his cheeks stained pink when you do,

you didn't even realize him in the beginning, scurrying past you when you were mean to others, laughing with your friends

but he always knew you

watching you as you disinterestedly twirled a pencil through your fingers, two seats away from his

he could say from the very beginning that you interested him far beyond what was probably appropriate-but he couldn't help himself

not when he couldn't stop thinking about you, imagining the condescending tone you used directed at him for once

that sneer on your face, the look of disgust or the sadistic smile. you were gorgeous every way.

and he couldn't even restrain himself picking up his old digital camera he'd used years ago before getting bored, blowing the dust off it

and using to take pictures of you

people noticed him a bit more after that, not by much but the big camera always present in his hands or around his neck garnered it's fair share of attention

you noticed him, finally

glanced at him out of the corner of your eye in the hall or in class, but you never fully acknowledged him, never talked him

but for awhile a few looks were enough, his pictures were enough

until they weren't.

he needed more.

he needed you to look at him.

to be mean to him.

to notice him.

and you definitely did when he seemed to trip out of nowhere right in front of you and your friends,

pictures spilling out of his bag from the impact, spreading out all of the linoleum floor for everyone to see

You.

you smiling, you laughing, you frowning and glaring and sneering.

in class, on your route home, in your home.

pictures taken through a window of you half undressing, getting into bed, eating.

you stared at the photos...

before your gaze turned to him...

with everything he'd ever wanted.

finally your sights were set on him.

the word perv was thrown around, stalker and creep.

he liked them when they were from you

but those were nothing compared to the other things you'd do to him.

things he'd do for you without a second thought.

taunts were not enough. rumours he'd done a well enough job creating on his own. the rest was left up to you to fill.

you took his camera. he hasn't seen it since.

he doesn't care.

he has something much better now.

you. in the flesh. in front of him.

you had your own name for him too.

"dog."

that was perhaps his favourite.

yours too it seemed.

you thought it fit well to him.

his eyes wide, almost puppy-like when you approach him in the hallways.

you're not supposed to be here, technically he's not supposed to either.

not a peep of protest when face to face with you,

smirking toothily as you back him up into a wall, so close your nose nearly touches his, your hand resting on the wall over his shoulder, successfully trapping him in place.

he likes this position too much, even if he squirms away from your touch.

"Do you have it?"

taehyun is the type of guy you could bully for the answers to the homework or a project, but that would be too easy

you could steal his things and beat him until you were satisfied but that would probably be easier, still

it wouldn't appease that fire curling in the pit of your stomach when you see his lip quiver and his eyes flutter with unshed tears,

coincidentally it didn't appease that masochistic side to him either, the side that liked that fire in your eye when you made him do another embarrassing act

but maybe part of him that you liked so much was the willingness he had, the devotion he had to you,

following you around like a lost puppy,

at your beck and call whenever you wanted or needed him and even when you didn't.

he sits alone in his room, staring at your contact in his phone waiting for the next time you decide you're bored and want to make his life a living hell once more

coincidentally, lighting his life up once more

in some ways he needed you

and in other ways you needed him

the power trip that it gave you, knowing he'd get down on his knees in front of you and kiss your shoes, not because he was scared of you but because he loved to do it just as much as you loved to order it

"y-yeah, i have it."

he pulls something out of his bag, holding it out to you.

a small device, nothing special but the small plus and minus on it

you smirk. and slowly you let your eyes travel down the length of his body.'

"good boy~"

was it natural to feel a chest palpitation

when you call him that?

when you look at him with those eyes?

when you're so mean to him?

why does it only make his heart flutter?

"so what happens if I..."

you click your tongue at the exact moment your slide your finger down to click the plus button up,

click,

his body jolts, a rush of heat spreading throughout his body.

the toy vibrates inside of him, just for you.

click,

he clenches his jaw tight, trying not to make a sound under your eyes

"too much!" he squeaks.

you tilt your head to the side.

click.

he lets out a dry sob, body trembling against the wall, shaky legs only being kept upright by your hips pinning him to the surface.

"oh baby," a finger pushes his chin up, brushing over his pulse point and adam's apple before forcing his eyes onto yours.

"don't be a wimp now~"

you move in, close and for a momentary second of bliss he thinks you'll press your lips against his and fulfill the nasty wish of being touched by his bully for all too long

his eyes fall shut, lips parted in quiet pants

but you don't come.

you only laugh.

click.

"it's only too much when i say it's too much, puppy~"

his head spins. his eyes squeeze shut harder

and suddenly he hears a different click, more of a flash if he had to place it-

-a shudder?

he pries his eyes open to see you standing there still, somehow seeming to tower above him despite being the same height.

with his camera in hand.

"look at the camera puppy~"

and so he does

he whines, glazed over eyes staring directly at the lens, the utter adoration seeping through into the photo when you eventually print this out and keep to look at whenever you want

and he pants, just like the pathetic puppy he is

but he's your puppy now

click.

a/n: :)

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writerswall26 · 2 months

Text

My Sweet Cairo (Part 2)

Synopsis: The Ravens' Soccer team Captain fell in love for Cairo Sweet

Warning: Slight cursing, Student-Teacher relations. Other than that, none that I know of (but feel free to correct me)

Words: 1.7k

Masterlist | Previous Part | Next Part

A/N: Thank you for the warm welcome. But I think confusion would start here before the good climax. Happy Reading!

"Before we start our lesson, we want to congratulate our soccer team’s captain for winning us the semi finals last saturday night." Mr. Miller told the class where they cheered and whistled. Y/N smiling humbly while she saw Cairo clapping with them, a warm smile on her face.

"Told yah we'll bring home the championship this year." Y/N told Mr. Miller who laughed.

"I do hope so. Alright, let's continue!" He clapped and proceeded with their class.

Despite Cairo just sitting prettily in the front row, Y/N did not mind her as she was so engrossed with their lesson.

After their class, Y/N waited for Cairo outside of class patiently and she was out in minutes with Winnie.

"What do you want now, superstar?" Winnie asked in playful annoyance, rolling her eyes.

Y/N rolled her eyes as well. "I'm not here for you, miss creepy girl. I'm here for her." Y/N said, turning to Cairo with a sweet smile.

"To what do I owe you, superstar?" Cairo teased which made Y/N groan as she leaned her head back.

"See what you did there?" She turned to Winnie who raised her hands in surrender which Cairo giggled.

"What is it?" Cairo finally asked, curiously.

"Would you want to have dinner with me? Saturday night?" Y/N asked, fidgeting on the strap of her duffel bag.

"Are you asking me on a date?" The smile on Cairo's face never left.

Y/N shrugged. "If you want to call it that, I'm not complaining." She smiled.

Winnie and Cairo gave each other a look before the shorter girl turned to her.

"I'd take you up on it, but I got something going on saturday, I'm sorry." And that, my friend, hurts like a fucking bitch.

Y/N nodded, her face faltering at the rejection. But she still managed to smile and nodded.

"I see. It's okay." She said, starting to walk back slowly. "I'll see you around, then."

She was not feeling herself after that but she saw this coming as well. It's reaching to say that Cairo's gonna accept immediately after just a small interaction and one game.

"What's with the long face, sweetheart?" Jasmine asked as soon as she sat down in their physics class.

Y/N gave her a small smile as she shook her head, getting the rejection out of her head. "Nothing, just feeling a little under the weather." She said and said nothing more.

She was bummed out until saturday and her mother noticed it.

"What's wrong, darling? You've been looking a little down lately." Y/M/N, her mum, said while putting the lasagna on the table.

Y/N smiled at her mum. "Nothing. Just tired." She said before she stood up.

"Where are you going? We're gonna have lunch soon." Her mother called her but she just continued walking.

"I'm gonna take a breather. Don't wait up. Love you." She said before she took her bike and went for a small ride.

She was feeling the breeze and all that when the rain started pouring.

"Goodness gracious!" She muttered as she went faster to find a place to shelter on. And she did, on a big tree in front of Vanderbilt. She was drying herself up when her gaze fell on two particular people on the porch of the place.

"What the fuck?" She muttered to herself, it's Cairo and Mr. Miller, close to each other, smoking.

Her mind was running a thousand times over. What the fuck is Mr. Miller doing with Cairo outside of class? But then again, both of them are writers, it's a poetry place. She stared for a long time, watching and waiting and praying for nothing to happen. And when nothing did, she let out a small sigh.

She shook her head to get back to her senses before she rode her bike again. An anger about to blow inside her and the more she stays, the more it bubbles. She can't have that. So, she rode, fast on the rough wet road.

"Fuck!" She screamed over and over and over again until her tires bumped into something, causing her to lose her balance and be thrown off her bike a couple of feet away, her body slamming on the rough road causing a few nasty scratches in her left arm and a bump on her head.

She laid there, breathing heavily as she tried to feel her body, her legs, her arms. Thankfully, she's still functioning. So she pushed herself up, groaning as she limped to her bike, she checked on it first and was thankful that it was not wrecked. She sighed before she got on her bike and pushed through despite her entire body aching from the impact.

When she got home, her mum immediately rushed to her, checking her up from head to toe before leading her to the living room couch to sit.

"What happened to you, darling?" Her mum asked worriedly as she got a baskin of hot water and her medical kit.

"Didn't see a rock on the way." She answered quietly as her mother started tending to her.

"Was it pouring hard? You should've taken shelter and waited for it to stop." Her mum said softly while cleaning her scratches on her arm and face.

The two of them were silent while her mum's patching her up. After she was done, she kissed Y/N's forehead and fixed the things she used.

"Go get changed before we have our dinner." Y/M/N said, she did what she was asked to.

Y/N walked up to her room, threw her clothes in the laundry basket and changed. The image in her head was not leaving but she soon blocked it out when her mother called her for dinner.

"The finals is a week away. You should take care of your body if you want to win." Y/M/N told her gently while giving her a portion of her food.

Y/N smiled softly. "I know. I was being reckless, I'm sorry I made you worry."

Y/M/N smiled, patting her hand gently before they started their dinner together.

"Will you be able to watch?" Y/N asked in the middle of their dinner.

Y/M/N grinned beautifully. "Of course. I've already told the hospital I'm taking a leave to watch my wonderful daughter crush the opposing team and win that championship cup!"

Y/N chuckled at her mum's enthusiasm. "That's over reaching, mother." She says but her mum shook her head.

"This is your final game before university and you will, for sure, by no means, win the cup. And I'm so so proud of you."

Y/N's heart warmed at her mother's proud smile. She's been talking non-stop about this championship and how it's gonna look on her university portfolio, so her mother wanted her to do her best to win this championship this season.

On monday when she got to her English class, worried looks were thrown her way when they saw her wounds and the scratch on her face. Even Winnie did not give her the usual flirty attitude she usually gives whenever she sat down beside her.

"What happened to you?" Winnie asked worriedly, checking her up.

Y/N shrugged. "Just some scratches here and there."

"You have an entire bandage on your arm, Y/N. Not to mention, that thing on your face. That's not some scratch." Winnie said, concern laced in her voice.

Y/N gave her a smirk. "You worried now, sweetheart?" She tried but Winnie did not smile one bit.

Y/N sighed and faced her to show her the bandage. "Look, I fell off my bike, okay? But I'm perfectly fine now. My mum made sure of that the entire weekend." She assured the girl.

Winnie stayed quiet for a moment before she nodded. "Sure you're okay though? No broken bones or something?"

Y/N chuckled. Winnie can be adorable when she wants to.

"I'm perfectly fine. No broken bones or something." She assured Winnie who nodded with a smile.

Their class starts with Mr. Miller introducing another quote from a book and they're to make their own interpretation of it and present it in their next class.

After their class, Y/N immediately fixed her things hoping to run away from a certain brunette girl which she failed miserably as she was already in front of Y/N before the taller girl even had the chance to step out.

"What happened to you?" Cairo asked, her voice gentle and worried.

Usually, Y/N would smile and be all giddy but after what she saw last saturday, it's like all the happiness in the world had vanished.

"I fell off my bike. Excuse me." Y/N said, pushing past Cairo who followed her outside.

"Are you really going to be like this?" She heard Cairo saying from behind her.

Y/N groaned, letting her head fall back before she turned to look at the smaller girl. Winnie's even worried while watching.

"Like what, Cairo?" She asked, annoyance evident in her voice.

"This." Cairo said, pointing a hand at her as she walks in front of Y/N. "Are you really going to ignore me? What? Because I said no to you last saturday?"

Y/N's ears tinged at what was being accused of her. She wanted to burst out and say she saw her and Mr. Miller at Vanderbilt together, close and inappropriate. But she refrained herself, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves down.

"I'm not avoiding you. I have physics. And why do I care if you're out somewhere with God knows who? I'm not expecting you to say yes just because we had a small interaction and you watched one of my games. I'm not that shallow." Y/N's voice was restrained, her face red from trying to calm down.

Cairo was shocked to see this. She was not expecting Y/N to have a side like this. The few times she's seen this girl, she's always smiling and laughing. Never this angry.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? Let me make it up to you. Come by to my place, let's have dinner tonight." Cairo said, holding a hand to Y/N's chest and caressing it gently. Her big brown eyes are soft and apologetic.

Y/N stared at her for a moment before she sighed, bowing her head to calm before she gave out a small smile.

"Forget it." Y/N said as she stepped back, letting Cairo's hand fall on her side with a pained look.

"Finals on Saturday night, Winnie. Hope to see you there." Y/N said before she walked back and went to her physics class, not bothering to throw Cairo another glance.

#jenna ortega x reader #cairo sweet x reader #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega #cairo sweet #tara carpenter #wednesday addams #miller's girl

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chrollohearttags · 27 days

Note

Requests open? You don't know what you unleashed

It's that time of the month and I've been craving reiner like a mf (side note is it just me or do you crave human touch sm but at the same time the idea of any male rats Ik irl touching me, repulses me)

Anywhooooo if you don't mind the idea of reiner being such a simp for you, showing you sm love and affection stretch marks and all after a rare (inwardly not so rare) day of feeling like shit 🥹

Or reiner throwing you around and slapping you in the face with his dick, I'm easy

(Side side note: I also been having this viral thought of Reiner having a girl And he cheats on her with you constantly, sometimes practically in front of her face, telling you how your better and he will leave her and she can't satisfy him like you can, if you don't like that kind of stuff ignore 🤠)

frennn, omg why are we just alike?! 😭 ovaries be jiggling like a mf, begging to be scrambled but I wouldn’t dream of letting those creatures near me. but ask and you shall receive! 🫶🏾 I literally love allllll of these so much, I have no idea which one to choose. I can’t stop thinking about, him more so than usual slsksks 😫😭 so ykw, we bout to combine all three LMAO! (mainly bc I love the idea of Reiner being a scumbag)

themes + such: infidelity, slight angst, rei is an asshole (not to you! 😭)body worship, pussy eating, reader has stretch marks/slight dysmorphia, body shaming, soft to rough sex, full nelson, daddy’s used, he picks reader up

WHEN SHE’S NOT AROUND

“Rei…wait, we can’t do this..”

“And why not? Who’s going to stop us?”

“No one and that’s the problem..”

the constant back and forth between two lovers, ensued among the fray of dishevelment and lust..lust that had driven you both to the point of no return. Truth be told, you had no good reason to be together. Nothing good would come of this in the long run and yet, here you were…lying in the bed of another woman, with her man’s hands roaming your body. His lips latched onto your nipples and his fingers plunged deep into your aching center. Riding them to bliss as you cried out his name; echoing the walls of her home..it was a disgrace and yet, you couldn’t pull away. You couldn’t let him go..and he felt the same.

“Please..don’t try to pretend like you actually give a shit about her..” His voice seemingly mocking you..it certainly wasn’t his normal demeanor but the one thing you had come to accept about Reiner is that he was not perfect. Not by a long shot…he was certainly not some perfect gentleman that checked all of the boxes. He was handsome, successful, alluring, one hell of a lover but he wasn’t yours!..not even close. That much signified by the silver band on his right ring finger. Married to the girl you despised more than anything. You’d never hated anyone in your entire life but that snooty little blonde bitch was a shoe in for the first spot. Make no mistake, you weren’t afraid of her; more so she was intimidated by you and the thought of fucking her husband unbeknownst gave you a thrill like none other. But your conscious was heavy with thoughts of karma..how things would play out for you guys in the long run..what if he decided that one day he no longer wanted you and by some weird circumstance, decides to make it work with his wife? You’d be out and no one could feel an ounce of pity. You were the adulterer, the harlot, the side chick, mistress..but you were the only one he wanted.

“..because I don’t. Matter of fact, I hope she walks in here right now. I wanna see her face while I’m fucking you..” the deep tone in his voice rattling off into a laugh. Suddenly, he’d tug those thick digits out and shove them between your lips. Allowing you to pacify and taste yourself…watching you become so salacious for him never grew old and it wasn’t something he was ready to let go of. Not now and not ever!..meanwhile, he’d kneel to the floor, caressing your thick thighs in an attempt to quell you. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today? Hmm?…I feel like you should know that..” that deep southern drawl feeding you those sweet nothings, curling your toes at the sound. He could stay here forever, with you and no one else. Staring into the warmth of those beautiful brown eyes...the truth was, you hadn’t been feeling your best. You worked in the same building as his girl and as one of the lead makeup artists, for the brand that she and many other modeled for, it was difficult seeing women that looked nothing like you garner all of the attention and praise. Not to mention, hearing their snide remarks on the slick about your body type..about how you and others were not a fit for the pieces; literally and figuratively. You were used to it..working in the upper echelon came with discrimination on at least five different levels. But you let it roll off of your back. However, you were having a rather off day. Honestly, the last thing you wanted to do was to be weighed down with the tension of knowing you were sleeping with someone else’s man. That was until you were gifted an anonymous bouquet of flowers..you had no question who the sender was and when he sent you a text message asking to see you, you were glad to accept. Now here you were being spoiled in more ways than one. “You know I love you too, right? You’re my everything..” “Yes, Rei..I love you too..”

Currently, his lips were latching onto your clit, hands firmly planted on your thighs and clawing into them. He needed to taste you..consume your scent and flavor until he was full. That’s the way it was with Reiner..he was a selfish man. Downright gluttonous and he’d have his cake and devour it too! “Good…because I don’t want you to take it personal when I fuck you like a whore tonight.” Smirking up at you and causing you to chew at your lip with a wide smile. Just then, he’d toss your leg across his shoulder and begin the rapid ascent into feasting on your cunt. It wasn’t long before those juices were trickling down his chin and you were trembling. You could’ve jumped from your own flesh at any minute. The way his tongue lapped at your bud, delicately navigated your folds..prodded your entrance..no one treated you better. Hence why his wife would simply have to share. “Oh fuck!…yes, Rei..right there..”

he knew that you were exactly where he wanted you..and there was no way he was letting you go until he got what he desired….suddenly, he’d pull away with his mouth only to quickly substitute your pleasure with his fingers whilst he spoke to you. Feeding you every positive affirmation he could think of…complimenting your beautiful smile down to your legs; rubbing them gently. He didn’t just admire you, he practically worshipped you. Leaving kisses on those stretch marks displayed across your pudgy tummy. He loved all of it and thought that you should do the same. He was adamant in letting you know there was nothing for you to be ashamed of. “You’re so fucking sexy. Trust me..she’s not even half the woman you are. Never could be, baby. The next time she says something, just think about the fact that you have the one thing she doesn’t..” he’d declare, proceeding to spit onto your folds and continue licking. Not once did he break eye contact because he wanted to see all of the expressions that came across your face..he was right. She’d brag and boast about her husband who loved her so much to anyone who’d listen. That was at least in the public eye..however, behind the closed doors of a dressing room, crying into the arms of her best friend, she’d confess that he hadn’t touched her in months. That he seemed distant and cold and she was worried about an affair. Your kind nature couldn’t bear harboring such a secret but the side of you that wanted revenge for watching that bully’s abuse to other girls; bragging about her appearance, wealth and everything else she could flaunt as an adolescent, up into adult hood…you were enjoying this. You wanted the bitch to suffer and quite frankly, see her man getting fucked by the very type of woman she swore she was superior to!

“Lay back f’r me, sweetheart and put those fucking legs up..”

By this point, Reiner’s entire demeanor had seemed to shift. He was still very much hungry for that delicious nectar but he was done with the sweet, charming, innocent demeanor. Quite frankly, it couldn’t come soon enough. You needed him to take what was his! To be dominant, aggressive and pound every single ounce of tension from your body. You were sopping wet with a linear trail of slick, seeping down your slit and he had just the plan to add to the mess. Quickly standing to his feet, he’d take the place of your palms and squeeze the supple flesh of your thighs..he’d already previously undressed so when he came up, that erect cock did along with it as well. He was aching for you..so much so, the only way he’d be able to gain relief was to bury himself inside of you. That’s when you’d feel him lob a trail of spit onto your folds before rubbing that tip against you…you couldn’t handle another moment of being teased so luckily…

“You’re about to get all of this dick, I hope you know that..”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing…take this pussy. Fuck me..”

..he didn’t make you wait long! A moment later, you’d feel that tip split open your folds and enter your warmth. It felt damn near divine being inside of you. He practically trembled; cursing aloud when he was met with the sensation of your walls constricting around him. This was all he wanted, all he needed and he’d be content as long as he could have you. “This pussy’s so fucking tight…goddamn, she never feels this good.” Chuckling to himself because he couldn’t believe just how starkly different his experience was with you and his wife. Oftentimes, he found himself bored or not even remotely aroused. She’d complain that it was too much or that she couldn’t fit it all the way. She didn’t like to do any of the nasty things you preferred and when it came to giving him oral sex, she downright refused. Just recently, he stopped trying altogether and always claimed he was too exhausted for sex. Meanwhile, he was buried balls deep inside of you every chance he got!

“Mmmmph, take it, baby. Keep fucking me, just like that..”

Whimpering as you rubbed your clit..stroking that bud slowly..your gaze was fixated on his, a smile on both of your faces as he nestled every inch into you. His strokes were consistent, deep and a little fast. He couldn’t be vexed to take it slow tonight. He needed to give it to you the way you deserved. “Who’s pussy is this, baby? Huh? Tell me..” questioning as he grasped for your ankles, placing gentle kisses along your instep and growling into your skin. He wasn’t letting up for anything. Not until he was damn well satisfied..

“Y-yours, daddy. Oh my gosh..”

crying out with a frail whimper as his pace sped up. Chewing at your bottom lip, you’d push at his abs to feign him off but that only did more to fuel his desire to wreck you. Instead, you found yourself hoisted up mid air and cradled in his huge arms. Being propelled up and down on his cock as he slammed you down onto it. Reiner was a brick house of a man, courtesy of all the years he spent playing football. With the bank account to match. By all accounts, he lived the dream life that so many sought after…millions in his account, large, picturesque home and a model wife but the one thing that alluded him…the one person he desired most was right here.

“Fuck….it should’ve been you, baby. It was always supposed to be you. You’re the one that should be wearing that ring, my last name..you should have her life.”

his words becoming far more enunciated, filled with much more passion and aggression..he craved you so badly he could feel it every fiber of his soul. He’d do anything to keep you around..no matter the cost. Clawing into his back, (y/n) cried out his name and let him know that you mirrored his sentiments and that regardless of titles, rings or legalities, he belonged to you! The only one who’d truly ever love him..

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise..”

171 notes · View notes

unclewaynemunson · 9 months

Text

More often than not, it doesn't work out.

Robin first learned that lesson with Vickie, when she thought she found the love of her life but ended up breaking things off because the way in which Vickie mirrored her anxiety back to her enhanced it tenfold and it turned out to be completely exhausting to keep up with that after the first wave of butterflies had died down.

After Vickie, there was Laura. Laura, with whom it seemed to work out until she told Robin that she couldn't bear keeping up with her weird, unsettling and way too vivid nightmares about Russian spies and monsters from fantasy stories every other night.

After Laura, there was Julia. Julia, who was amazing for four whole months until she told Robin with tears in her eyes that she couldn't tolerate the cheating anymore. It didn't matter how often Robin told her that sleeping with someone didn't necessarily mean sleeping with someone, that Steve was like a brother to her – and that the whole thing was utterly ridiculous in the first place because Robin was very much a lesbian. Needless to say, it didn't work out.

Then, there was Amy. Amy, who, like a cruel twist of fate, actually cheated on Robin. It was only a one-time thing, a drunken kiss during some stupid party, but it was enough to damage Robin's trust in her irreparably. So it didn't work out.

Up until then, she had chalked it up to a string of bad luck or maybe bad taste. But after Louise (who brought up the nightmares again), Valerie (who wanted some adventure in the bedroom and had to guide Robin through a panic attack filled with inexplicable flashbacks when she tried tying her to the bedframe), and Mathilde (who made a problem of Robin's regular 3am calls with Steve when neither of them could sleep), she starts to wonder if it wouldn't be more probable that it is herself who is the problem instead of this whole list of girls.

“Don't you dare say that about yourself,” says Nancy with fire in her voice when Robin finally dares to voice that thought out loud.

They're both lying down on Nancy's brand new couch, a pair of legs dangling over each side and their heads right next to each other in the middle. Except for that couch, the living room is still empty. Boxes are piled up everywhere, still waiting to be unpacked, but they can wait a little longer.

Robin is happy to have Nancy at her side again. It's been a while: college and differing career paths kept them separated through the majority of their friendship. But now Nancy has found her way back to Indiana, only half an hour away from where Robin has been living with Steve and Eddie ever since Mathilde broke up with her a few months ago.

She hasn't really been dating anyone since, and now that Nancy is also living in Indianapolis, she wonders if she'll ever feel the need to. No girl would ever be able to compare to Nancy Wheeler, after all; Robin knew that much as soon as she saw Nancy stepping out of the U-Haul wearing pastel-pink dungarees, with all grown-out curls cascading over her back and a thick layer of eyeliner around her beautiful doe eyes.

“Well, it could be true,” Robin presses on.

“No it can't!” Nancy says it in such an indignant tone that it makes Robin snort skeptically.

“I'm serious, Rob.” It sounds stern. “I know you and I know it's not true. It's not your fault.”

“You're seriously telling me I've been dating seven girls over the past seven years, and none of it worked out, and it's all because of them? All those relationships were wildly different; I'm the one consistent factor in all of them, Nance.”

“Yeah, but that doesn't mean you're the problem.” Nancy says it like it's obvious. “Maybe the problem is that you've been picking girls who all have one single thing in common, and that is that they never wanted to make the effort to really listen to you.”

"Huh." Robin closes her eyes for a second, taking her time to let those words sink in. She never thought about it that way. “You think so?”

“Yeah. Mathilde was a bitch anyway,” Nancy says matter-of-factly. “I mean, did she ever ask you to explain why you've been feeling the need to call Steve in the middle of the night lately?”

Robin shrugs. “That's a bit difficult to explain, isn't it?” she points out.

“That's what I'm saying,” says Nancy. “It's exactly why you keep picking out those kind of girls. Because if you're with someone who will actually listen to your story, you're gonna have a problem. Right?”

And, well, shit. It's not like Robin asked for a free therapy session here, but... Nancy is right. Of course she is. She always is.

Robin turns her head to the side, exchanging her view on the white ceiling for a much better one: Nancy's face, so close to her own that she can take in every little detail. The elegant slope of her nose, the wing of her eyeliner, the freckles on her cheeks, her perfect lips... Her face in this en-profile position is mesmerizing. It's not the first time that the thought comes to Robin's mind that Nancy looks like someone who should be in old paintings.

“Do you think you'll ever try to find someone who listens to you?” Nancy asks.

Robin tries to imagine that scenario; it's difficult. Not just because she doesn't really know how that would work in the first place, but mostly because she doesn't actually want to.

“Nah,” she says, trying to make it sound casual instead of really fucking sad.

“Why not?”

Because nobody can ever compare to you anyway, she thinks. But she bites her tongue and shrugs, turning her head back to the ceiling.

“That would be way too complicated, wouldn't it?”

Nancy shuffles and sighs; Robin feels her breath tickle against her cheek.

“I guess,” she mumbles.

“How did you do it?” Robin asks.

Nancy's dating history is not as tumultuous as Robin's. After things ended between her and Jonathan, she had been solo for a while. Then, there had been Ben, and then Kurt, and then it had again been just Nancy for a long time.

“Did what?”

“Did you ever find a way to tell Kurt about all the shit?”

“Nope.” It doesn't exactly sound like she tried very hard.

“Why not?”

“Because I did the same thing you did,” Nancy says. “Chose the wrong people to do that with. So I didn't have to think about it.”

That doesn't feel completely fair to Robin; Nancy had been with her boyfriends longer than Robin had been able to keep even one of her girlfriends around.

“I liked Kurt, he was nice,” she remarks in an attempt to point out the difference without being too blunt about it.

Nancy sighs. “Yeah, he was nice, but he wasn't... Right. I knew that from the beginning. Same with Ben. Even with Jonathan, in a way. Or Steve, even though I was too young to realize it.”

“What do you mean, not right?”

“Boys.”

“Wha-” Robin turns her head sideways so fast that she's lucky she doesn't pull a muscle.

She sees how Nancy's eyes drop from the ceiling and slowly find their way to Robin's face.

“Took me a while to figure that one out,” she says quietly. “But yeah.”

Robin wishes they were lying in a different position; one that would have made it possible for her to take Nancy's hand and squeeze it gently, or to wrap an arm around her, or to pull her in for a hug.

“Thank you for telling me.”

A soft smile is tugging at Nancy's lips. She looks at Robin like she wants to say something, then looks back up to the ceiling again, and Robin copies her movement, biting her own tongue again in order to give Nancy the time and space she clearly needs right now.

Usually, Robin struggles with silences; she'll feel words pile up inside of her until her need to fill the empty space will take over and she'll inevitably start rambling. But this one actually feels comfortable. She wishes that they could keep lying side-by-side on this couch for the rest of the day.

Unfortunately, they can't, though. There's still way too much work to be done. So Nancy hauls her to her feet and soon, the couch gets company of a coffee table, a couple of cozy armchairs, a bookcase, a TV... There are boxes filled with books, kitchen appliances, picture frames, video tapes, clothes; there are closets that need to get assembled and a heavy bedframe that they can barely get to where they need it.

It feels like it will never end, but after two long days of hauling furniture around, the apartment starts to look like a home. A home for which Robin gets a spare key. It rests cold and shiny against the palm of her hand, where Nancy has dropped it, and it makes her realize how real it is that Nancy is finally living close to her again.

Nancy's couch becomes just as much of a home for Robin as her own living room. It's where the two of them share stories, tell secrets, laugh loudly, cry ugly... It's where they watch movies until deep in the night, snuggled up to each other under a soft blanket. It's where they read books side-by-side on lazy Sunday afternoons. It's where they listen to music together and where they listen to what the other has to tell about their day or about anything that's on their minds. It's where Robin finally gets the courage to tell Nancy that nobody has ever listened to her the way Nancy does. It's where Nancy scoots closer towards her to press a kiss against her cheek, right before she finds Robin's lips and they share their first kiss, warm and homely and perfect.

More often than not, it doesn't work out. But once in a lifetime, it does. And once is exactly enough.

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #stranger things #fruity ficlet

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eyesthatroll · 1 year

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how many drinks? | luke hughes

pairing; lh43 x fem!reader

warnings(s); none really, fluff? lowercase intended, not edited. also written in like 15 minutes so kinda bad (might rewrite/re-edit it at a later date idk)

word count; 0.6k (blurb!)

summary; luke approaches reader at wedding reception

"do you want to dance?" you lift your gaze from the game of candy crush that you were currently enthralled in.

a tall brunette is staring back at you. he looks down at you expectantly, rolling on the heels of his feet. "do i know you?"

the boys cheeks tinge pink, and he runs a hand through his slightly curly hair before speaking again. "n-no, i just, i don't know. you look bored."

his awkwardness brings a smile to your face. you ponder his offer for a moment, the song 'skin' by dijon playing through the speakers.

the dance floor had a few couples on it, the other guests scattered around the room, eating cake or loitering near the bar.

you flip your phone screen side down, and chug the rest of your drink. "sure pretty boy, let's dance."

you lift your hand up, and he take it in his, easily pulling you out of your chair. he leads you to a small corner of the dance floor.

your arms rest on his shoulders, hands crossed behind his neck. his hands finding home on the small of your back.

"i never got your name." you state, the two of you swaying softly.

"luke." he answers sheepishly, seemingly embarrassed that he hadn't already told you his name.

"so, which side are you here for, luke?" you asked, your fingers beginning to absentmindedly play with the hair that coiled at the nape of his neck.

"oh, um, the groom. he's on my team."

you brows raised in confusion. "i didn't know you were a player for the devils, not sure i've seen you on the ice. though, i've only watched maybe a few games so i could be completely wrong"

"i haven't-well not yet, at least. i just signed my contract a few weeks ago." he says.

"that's exciting," you begin. "leaving college, i presume?" you're not sure if your questions are too personal, but luke makes no moves to ward them off.

luke gives you a bittersweet, close lipped smile. "yeah."

"that's got to be hard, leaving your friends?"

he tilts his head, thinking a moment. "i mean, yeah, but i'll still see them. plus, i have jacky, and the rest of team-they've been pretty nice and welcoming."

you nod in understanding. "so jacky, she your girlfriend?"

" oh god no!" luke sputters, his cheeks painted crimson again. "that's my brother-jack. he plays for the devils, too."

your eyes widen, and you kick yourself internally for your assumption. why would he of asked you to dance if he was in a relationship?

" 'm sorry, i shouldn't have assumed." you apologize, shaking your head slightly to yourself.

"no, it's all good! i'm single, by the way."

"professional hockey player gets no bitches?" you tease, feeling more comfortable with him by the moment.

he lets out a breathy laugh, his hands tightening around your waist. "i think i do okay with..the ladies." he trails off.

you mouth an 'okay', and dramatically nod your head.

"just looking for the right girl, i guess." he finishes.

"that's understandable." you agree.

"and you?"

"looking for the right girl?"

you laugh at your own joke.

"no-no, i mean, beautiful girl like yourself must have..suitors."

luke's face contorts into one reminiscent of pain.

you followed suit, cringing at his choice of words. "suitors?"

you laugh at him shamelessly, a big bellied laugh that draws attention to the two of you on the floor, not that either of you noticed, too engrossed in your own world.

luke pulls you closer to him, burying his head in your shoulder. "stop laughing."

—

mari speaks! again, like mentioned in the preface, wrote this super quickly so not edited/kinda bad but i might re-do it or make a part 2 idk. also, luke’s playing in his first playoff game tmro so make sure to wish babyboy some luck <3

#luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes fic #nj devils #new jersey devils #umich boys #umich hockey #hockey #nhl

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abiiors · 8 months

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three's a party 🍸// george daniel x reader x ross macdonald

a/n: hi. thank you so much to my darlings @bookish-strawberry and @ughgoaway for helping me with some of the scenes!!! this is quite tame compared to some of the others i read for "research" but it is still quite...porny. this note is so long, but i'm just rambling because i'm nervous!!! anyway, here, have this unholy piece of writing with barely any plot

cw: threesome (obv), "good girl" and other feminine words/pronouns, uhhhh...yeah, just. general nastiness.

wc: 3.6k

the pub lights are dim, ambient. people chatter around you in low volume, a friendly humdrum of couples out on date nights and old friends catching up, it’s nice—this place. the food is good, the alcohol is even better; the playlist is just the right mix of sensual and exciting. absolutely perfect for a casual first date.

except for the man in front of you who drones on and on and on about one thing or the other—none of which you have given two shits about in your entire existence. but now you have to sit there and pretend that the local football team—the bulls or the foxes or some other inane animal—are the most riveting conversation you’ve ever had.

you also have to pretend like you haven’t been checking out other people sitting at the bar, laughing and joking and having way more fun than you in general—the group of drunk girls out on a friday night, couples on dates, two men sat at the edge of the bar who haven't stopped glancing your way since you first walked in.

a blond and a brunet, one with a sharp, clean-shaven face, the other with a softer face and a thick, dark beard. one with close-cropped and buzzed hair, the other with long hair tied up. two ends of the spectrum, yet they both have the same aura of je ne sais quoi about them. it’s tempting, distracting. and certainly a million times better than whatever’s happening in front of you.

every time one of them looks over at you, you lower your eyes coyly, pretend to be engrossed in a conversation with your date—nodding along to whatever he’s saying and laughing when he pauses expectantly. it’s truly a testament to his intelligence that he hasn’t caught up to your little game yet.

the blond man looks at you again, intense eyes and a full pink mouth. his eyes linger, lazily staring you from head to toe in your tight black first-date dress. then out the corner of your eye, you watch him mumble something to his friend.

he’s a bit subtle, turning only slightly and checking you out from the corner of his eyes, making sure he doesn’t get caught every time you look over in their general direction.

your date clears his throat.

“so i was thinking we could get one more drink and…take this back to my place?”

well… shit

“i had a lot of fun…” you begin, trying to hide the wince in your words but your date’s face falls as realisation finally dawns. “but i don’t—”

“so you’ve wasted my time then,” he cuts you off, nostrils flaring in anger as he clutches his beer pint harder than necessary.

“excuse me?”

“bitch,” he spits under his breath yet you hear it clearly.

all you can do is roll your eyes at his petulance. the glasses clatter as he stands up abruptly, gathering the attention of a few people nearby. you’re beyond feeling any sort of embarrassment; and why should you? it’s not you making a scene.

“classy,” you mutter, taking a leisurely sip of your aperol spritz.

it’s great, no reason for you to ruin a perfectly good evening for a little bitch baby. in your peripheral vision, the two men snicker. the rational part of your brain knows they’re laughing at an inside joke; nothing to do with you. but your delusional brain can’t stop imagining the two of them listening in on your conversation, smirking at your date’s little temper tantrum. you take your own sweet time finishing your drink after he leaves. he’s already out of your mind before he’s even halfway across the pub. you can finally indulge in your other pursuits after all.

“well, that was a pathetic date."

it's after fifteen minutes when you've sought solace in the first floor balcony of the pub. a few people loiter in the nooks and corners, making out and sneaking quick puffs of cigarettes, some wait for their turn to use the loo. some linger in search of peace.

you focus your attention on the stranger.

his voice is deep, deeper than you would have imagined. there’s a gravelly and rough edge to it that makes his words skitter down your bones. even just the way he walks towards you, slow and leisurely, has you hypnotised and transfixed on him. but you won’t be swayed so easily.

“are you always this straightforward with strangers?”

he comes to a stop a few inches away from you and leans against the railing; his body mirroring yours. his spicy cologne permeates the air around you. it's a struggle to not inhale sharply and get a lungful of it. even in your heels, you’re a good few inches shorter than him.

“no,” he shrugs and the movement makes his arm brush against yours ever so slightly, “i guess you caught my eye.”

you attribute the goosebumps on your arms to the chilly night air even as a small voice in your head reminds you that it’s august.

“george,” he extends a hand. it’s big, rough-looking with callouses all over his palms. either he’s a gym rat with pretty show muscles, or… you can’t exactly place the or. but it leads to quite a few interesting theories.

“your…friend didn’t come out with you?”

the man—george—raises an eyebrow, either at the way you leave his hand hanging in mid-air or at the mention of his friend but he does a rather good job of hiding his surprise. if he even felt any, to begin with.

“why? you’re more interested in my friend?”

a small part of you almost purrs in delight at the tinge of jealousy in his tone. good, possessive men know how to make nights like these into memorable ones. his fingers curl slightly, ready to put the extended hand down. the nicotine stains on them should have put you off a long time ago. instead, you find yourself looking at those fingers; imagining things you really shouldn’t.

“you always answer questions with more questions?” you bite your bottom lip, letting just the hint of a smile ghost over your mouth. let him work to figure out your tone. your intentions.

george chuckles deeply, sucking air between his teeth, and about to say something when you hear the second set of footsteps. these are imperceptibly heavier, almost like you know who it is…

a smirk curls up your mouth as george turns around to look at—

“ross…” he says quietly.

possessive men know how to have wild nights.

possessive men are also…incredibly easy to predict.

george is behind you, pressed up against your naked ass, hard and thick. the only thing that separates you are his cotton brief. it only took you fifteen minutes to decide to take both the men home with you. and judging from the minimum resistance you got from either of them, one thing is clear—this isn’t their first rodeo.

“you feel this, darling?,” george whispers, mouth brushing over the shell of your ear while rolling your nipple softly between his fingers.

it’s a lot of stimulation. it’s the good kind of stimulation, the kind that has your toes curling and your thighs shaking. and if it weren’t for the other man kneeling between your legs, holding you up with his hand on your hips, you would have fallen to your knees a long time ago.

“mm–yes, fuck, it feels good,” you moan, head rolling back to rest against george’s chest. your fingers are tangled up in ross’ hair, long graceful fingers twisting and turning traces of his soft hair between them, guiding him as he licks and sucks your clit until you’re nothing but a wet trembling mess.

ross won’t be outdone so easily. he hums against you, sending vibrations that shoot through your entire body at lightning speed. “is he making you feel better than i am, baby?” he pouts, stopping entirely.

his beard glistens in the ambient lights of the room as he stares at you with intense, blown-out eyes. a whine escapes you, your fingers tighten in his hair—tugging at it harshly and making him groan. it’s so close to your cunt, enough for you feel it but not close enough. you writhe against george, trying to thrust your hips back into ross’ face, trying to get him to continue. but george tsks.

“not before you answer him, baby.” his fingers are back to pinching your nipples; pain and pleasure blending in together in a heady mix. “don’t we deserve to know?”

his voice is gruffer than before, barely restrained—a man so used to commanding people that it rolls off his tongue effortlessly.

ross smirks when you mumble something incoherently, ready to finish what he started but george is not satisfied. “use your words, darling.”

it sends a spark of desperate annoyance through you, clearing the fog in your brain. “ross is better,” you grit out, guiding the man back between your legs smirking at the way george tenses behind you.

for someone who seems so calm and composed he certainly has a competitive streak…

ross grazes his teeth against you, licking it after—almost like a reward for declaring him the winner. you throw a leg over his shoulder, hissing at the way his tongue has better access now, crying out when he swipes his fingers against your folds almost lazily.

you suck in a sharp breath, ready to cry out again but the scream dies in your throat. rather, it’s strangled—literally—by george wrapping his free hand around it, applying pressure to the sides.

“you want to be a brat?” he tsks again, “she wants to be a brat, ross.”

ross laughs breathlessly, letting go of you for just a second, “you’re just a sore loser.” he smirks, eyes alight with mirth. there’s a hint of danger in them, not the kind you sense in george—one that comes with a touch of sadism. ross’ brand of danger feels more arrogant. someone who knows what effect he has on people, on women. he’s not a taker. he’s a giver. and right now, he looks at you like he’d give anything to watch you fall apart with his name on your lips.

the almost lack of oxygen has your head spinning, combined with the knot pulled taut in your stomach—it’s almost impossible to stand up, to make your legs hold you up. but that’s what george is here for.

his fingers adapt a rougher pace, pinching and flicking your nipples, matching ross’s movements. your mind feels like it’s torn both ways, fighting hard to keep track of two sensations, two feelings. it’s too much.

a string of curses fall from your lips. “gonna cum,” you plead, struggling against ross, desperately trying to get more and more and so much more. “can i cum, please. please–fuck.”

“what should we do, george?” ross hums, ignoring you entirely. his nails dig into your ass, feeling up the curves and the firm muscles. you are nothing but a toy in his hands, for him to use and control. all your bossiness from before melts away as soon as george snakes a hand around your waist, stroking ross’ head and guiding it the way he wants to.

ross doesn’t resist, he only chuckles, making you cry out pleas once again.

“have you earned it, sweetheart?” george asks, whispery rough voice burrowing on the insides of your skull.

have you?

you nod, or try to at least. it’s hard when your head rests limply on his chest, throat gripped between his hands.

“please, yes. i’ll do what you want, pl–fuck, fuck.”

“whatever we want?”

“whatever yo–you want.”

“go on then,” george pinches your nipple, twisting it between his fingers, “give him a taste.”

he’s barely halfway through the sentence when you scream out incoherently, falling apart as waves after waves of pleasure hit you all at once. everything goes white for a split second, all that remains is intoxicating pleasure. you have no sense of time, of self. only that one man holds you up as the other laps at your folds greedily, licking away every last drop of what you have to offer.

“want a taste?” ross smirks. his voice sounds like it’s coming from somewhere under water. you’re unsure if you can stand up on your own just yet. vestiges of the orgasm course through you, heady and hot. “she’s fucking sweet, george, like honey.”

ross stands up, right in front of you, tall and imposing. and for the first time, you’re between both of them, feeling their sweaty skin on yours, inhaling them greedily.

“open your mouth,” he commands, fingers taking hold of your chin and roughly tilting it up. you know what’s coming as you watch the sinister half-smile on his face. and oh how delightlfully right you are.

the moment you open your mouth for him, ross spits in it; saliva mixed with your slick still coating his tongue.

“good girl,” he whispers, turning your face to george who captures your mouth in a rough kiss. his tongue flicks on the insides of your mouth, searching, tasting you and ross together. he moans, satisfied. “now about that promise…”

“be a good girl and get on all fours”

it’s a shock to you how ross takes charge when he wants to. george doesn’t contradict him, he only watches with vague amusement as you try holding yourself up on shaking arms and legs, drenched in sweat and thighs sticky with your own slick.

your entire body buzzes with adrenaline, shivers racking down your spine, still needy for more and more, still wanting to please the men who have been pleasing you for… what feels like hours now.

“now,” george says, walking up to you and stopping just in front of you, “you can take both of us, can’t you?”

you peer up at george, tall and imposing george who looks at you with such blatant lust that it makes a tiny moan slip out of you. you can, you have been dying to do just that. now you look at him through your eyelashes and through the sweaty hair sticking to your forehead, falling in your eyes.

“yes,” you nod eagerly, “please, yes.”

the men smile, all teeth and hardness and intensity—it’s intoxicating. almost hypnotising, you get on your knees, hand drifting between your legs one more time just to feel the friction again but ross is quicker.

“ah–ah!” he quickly catches your wrist, before it’s even reached past your navel. “that’s our job, darling. all you need to do is get on all fours and look pretty.”

“but she already is so pretty,” george tsks, palming himself through his briefs. his cock is a stark, thick outline that stands out, making you drool. if he already looks so big and delicious then how good would it be to feel him on your tongue and stretching out your mouth?

the moment stretches on—you on all fours, on trembling, shaky limbs, waiting there like a good little slut for either one of these men to fill you up.

george continues to play with himself, fingers dipping in and out of the waistband of his underwear, touching and teasing. until finally he pulls his boxers down. you watch, transfixed as george shamelessly pumps himself in front of you, head thrown back, throaty moans echoing in the room as he slides his fist around his cock. you stare, eager and waiting, almost leaning forward.

behind you, ross is silent. you can almost imagine him staring at the scene in front of him in awe and lust. you try to imagine it from his perspective. your dripping swollen cunt right in front of him growing wetter still the more you watch george.

“don’t tease,” you almost whine, unable to take more of this. you need to know what he tastes like. and you need it now.

“eager, are we?” george asks, walking up to you. “are you not pleasing her enough, ross?” he tuts and ross chuckles; throaty and distracted.

you get little warning before you feel ross sliding a finger up your slit, lazily collecting your wetness and then the tell-tale sound of his tongue lapping it up from his fingers. it’s filthy and disgusting, it makes you arch your back and drives you almost crazy with want.

“i could do better than your hand.” your grin matches george’s who comes to a stop in front of you.

“guess she likes me better, ross.”

ross huffs, “we’ll see.”

before you have the chance to respond, ross draws a hiss of pleasure out of you. his length drags against your cunt, almost between your ass cheeks, sliding just the tip in. no further. red, hot need spears through you. if the men are determined to tease and taunt you then it’s for you to take matters into your own hands.

before george can registers it, you cup a hand around his ass, pulling him forward until his cock practically rests on your face.

a thick vein runs along the side, pulsating, practically inviting you to trace it with your sharp fingernail. you let your tongue swirl over his slit, humming at the salty taste of his precum. george moans as the vibrations of your hum hit. ross moves his hips slowly, almost pulling out before slamming into you fully. the force of it has you choking on george, gagging around him, drooling messily.

“breathe,” he commands softly, stroking your hair. you do as he tells you, relaxing your throat more and letting his weight rest on your tongue.

the sides of your mouth burn from the stretch, black, glittery mascara tears stain your face. and yet all you care about is this, here, now. it’s fullness like you’ve never experienced before, delicious and thick, drawing out gasps and moans from you that mix with his grunts.

“such a perfect girl,” he coos, “isn’t she ross? doesn’t she feel fucking great?”

ross hums behind you, thrusting into you again at a steady pace. shameless need and lust pools in your belly, bleeds through your veins as you trace along george’s cock with your tongue. his fingers remain tangled in your hair, guiding you, commanding you to please him as he wishes.

you hollow our your cheeks, licking and sucking until his hips move in much the same pace as ross’ do.

ross’ hand snakes up your waist, between your legs again, finding your clit again to rub and pinch, to make you whine. each one of his flicks makes you moan around george, sending small hums of pleasure right up his spine. he looks blissed out, head rolling and eyes half-lidded. a surge of pride runs through you at the sight.

ross’ fingers dig into your hips, bruising the soft flesh. twinges of pain intertwine with sparks of pleasure as he pushes in, stretching you out and filling you in.

“taking me so well, sweetheart,” he praises. the term of endearment from his mouth makes your knees weak and your legs tremble but ross holds you up, slamming into you until he bottoms out again and again.

flesh slaps against flesh—rhythmic sounds punctuated by guttural grunts. the position you’re in allows ross to thrust deeper each time, hitting your g-spot repeatedly. if your mouth weren’t otherwise occupied, he would have had you mewling by now. but that doesn’t mean you don’t let out the occasional whimpers as you continue to bob your head up and down george’s dick.

the man is close, you can tell. his cock twitches and spasms in your mouth. he has lost some of his rhythm, hips bucking wildly as he chases his pleasure. you can’t help but caress the base of his cock with your hand, moving it lower to softly squeeze his balls.

“shit–shit,” he curses loudly, “do that again.”

so you oblige, letting your nails graze on the sensitive skin. within seconds, you feel his hold tightening in your hair. george fucks your mouth with wild abandon, careless thrusts—he couldn't care less about the drool dribbling down your chin, about your tear-stained face. the burn around your lips.

“gonna cum, darling, doing so well,” he grounds out. your own body mirrors the feelings as ross continues to thrust faster and faster.

the knot in your stomach tightens, blood pumps through your veins, infused with lightning until the bitter-salty taste of cum fills your mouth. george cums, groaning loudly and shooting spurts of his release down your throat that you lap up hungrily. some of it dribbles down the side of your chin but you don’t swallow just yet. instead, you open your mouth wide open for him to have a look.

“you’re killing me,” he swears, trying to get a grip on himself. only then do you swallow, whining loudly when ross pinches your clit, kneading the bundle of nerves in rough circles.

“go on,” he commands, “cum for us. wanna feel you around me before i fill you up.”

it only takes one more thrust from ross before you’re almost falling down face first from the force of the orgasm that hits you. vaguely you’re aware of ross cumming inside you, of it spilling down your thighs, mixing with your own release. vaguely you’re aware of george falling to his knees in front of you, legs still spasming as he watches you fall apart again and again.

you cry out something unintelligent—perhaps their names, perhaps something else. the world blacks out, until slow, blurred images creep back into your line of sight.

the beginning of the night, the pathetic date is long gone from your mind. right now all you can think of is ecstacy.

and then perhaps a round two.

lemme know what you think <3

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @beachesgetpeaches, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855

add yourself to the taglist

#RIGHT. GOODBYE.#ross macdonald #george daniel #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald x you #george daniel x reader #george daniel x you #ross macdonald smut #george daniel smut #the 1975 #the 1975 smut #matty healy #adam hann #smut writing #smut fic #minors do not interact #female reader #the 1975 fic #three/some

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esamastation · 6 months

Text

Part forty-two of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-one

The Turks have arranged everything. Sort of. The charcoal burner's house is long abandoned and remote, not close to any main routes, so it would be private. In the books, both Sephiroth and Angeal are taking part in a classified mission with the Turks, which has been approved by both the Director of the SOLDIER program and the Acting Director of the Turks. It would take someone higher up in the Public Security Department to delve deeper than that, and since the President had already given his seal of approval, there's not much even Heidegger can do about it.

"And Rude is bringing everything we'll need to survive," Reno finishes. "Starting today, your priority is sorting out whatever is going on with you, free of distractions, external stressors and hopefully of further incidents."

Sephiroth still seems to be stuck on the getting his shit together part of the mission and apparently isn't sure whether to be insulted or not.

Angeal clears his throat. "And what are we supposed to… do, exactly?"

"Hell if I know," Reno shrugs and nods at Sephiroth. "Figure you'd sort it out by yourself, with your new spooky… whatever it is you got going on. You seem to have some idea."

"Uh," Sephiroth answers.

Eloquent.

Angeal runs a hand down his face. Then he laughs. "Okay, I have to admit. I'm impressed. I didn't really think you'd do anything, but - I'm impressed." And more than slightly intimidated by the connections and liberties the Turks have, but that's not exactly new. "How long do we have?"

"Until further notice, or until someone back in Midgar gets antsy," Reno shrugs. "I'm thinking maybe don't worry about time. If you need more, we will arrange some."

Huh. "This is really that important, then?"

Reno gives Sephiroth a look and then looks at Angeal. "Yeah," he says, a deceptively easy answer.

That's… somehow a little disconcerting. Certainly Sephiroth is invaluable to the program and to the company, but this… this is beyond VIP treatment.

"I see," Angeal murmurs and clears his throat.

Sephiroth finally shakes himself loose from his surprise, enough to look first somewhat sheepish - and then intrigued. "So, I can do whatever I want here?"

"Pretty much," Reno agrees, without any care for how alarming the question is. "And if you need something to further your whatever, we'll get it for you."

"Nice. And there will be no other missions if I don't want to do them right now?" Sephiroth asks.

"You can do them or not as you'd like - none of them have higher priority than this, and they can be delegated to other people, if it comes to that."

Sephiroth runs a hand over his chin. "And if I want access to some material that might be to some extent classified?"

Reno narrows his eyes. "Like what?"

"Haven't decided yet," Sephiroth answers flippantly. "But it might come up."

"... Great. We'll review case by case when we come to it," Reno mutters. "Though you know it's a bitch to get stuff shipped here, right? We're on another continent."

"Yes, yes, it's very impressive," Sephiroth says dismissively and thinks about something for a moment. Then he looks at the charcoal burner's house with a discerning eye. "And you'll be staying here too?" he then asks, glazing at Reno. "To watch us?"

Reno shrugs, unapologetic.

Sephiroth eyes him for a moment and then turns back to the house. "Very well. It will do."

"... Awesome," Reno says and motions. "Go, make yourselves comfortable or whatever. I'm going to walk the perimeter and set some traps."

"Mmhmm," Sephiroth answers, already striding back into the house with a proprietor's casual confidence, and Angeal can just imagine the furniture soon to be rearranged inside.

He hesitates before following and looks at Reno. "What is this really about? It's not just that Sephiroth lost control, is it?"

Reno considers him. "Well, duh, no," he says. "It's the stuff he's been saying in between."

And the abilities he seems to be on the verge of developing. "What's the official view on what's happening to Sephiroth?" What are they expecting from him?

"There isn't one," Reno says and arches his brows meaningfully, and then turns to go.

Angeal's face tightens, and he knows he probably doesn't understand the implications… but then maybe he does. All this effort and all the stuff that's been going on… whatever it is, the company is looking forward to benefiting from it greatly. And they want no one messing with what is happening before they do.

Angeal thinks of the moment Sephiroth communed with the old tree the day before, and for a moment he really wishes it was Genesis here with him instead. Genesis would actually know how to handle all of this. Angeal isn't even sure if he can ask Genesis about this, if he can talk to him about this!

Never mind the fact that Genesis probably has his hands full with whatever is happening back at Shinra Building… the aftermath of Sephiroth's incident and whatever Professor Hojo was doing…

Angeal turns to head inside.

… Where Sephiroth has begun poking around the house, and, of course, is already moving furniture around.

"I see you are all for this," Angeal comments.

"I'll take all the extra time I can get," Sephiroth mutters while carrying a little table to the middle of the main room. "Though I am not exactly happy about being under Turk supervision, I'll take it over the alternative."

Angeal hums, looking around and then deciding that Sephiroth probably doesn't need - or want - his help in decorating. "What's the alternative?"

Sephiroth grimaces and goes to move a bookshelf.

Okay then. Ominous. Angeal sighs and sets the Buster Sword down to lean against the wall near the door, right beside Masamune. "You know they expect something to come from this. For you to… to make it worth their while."

Sephiroth half laughs and half scoffs. "I just bet they do," he agrees and picks up somewhat dusty cushions and considers them with a frown.

Angeal folds his arms. "Are you going to?" he then asks, worried.

Sephiroth pauses and looks away, dropping the cushions by the table in the middle. "No," he says finally. "I don't imagine I will. Regardless," he shakes his head. "This is the next best thing to a full-on seclusion, and I am damn well going to make the most of it."

Angeal doesn't know what that means, but it doesn't matter. "Okay," he says and draws a breath. "Guess we'll… just stay here for the time being, then."

Sephiroth hums in agreement. "Guess so. Does it bother you?"

"No more than anything else around Wutai," Angeal admits and looks up at the ceiling. "We were already looking forward to a prolonged stay in someone's abandoned home. This place is honestly an improvement."

Sephiroth relaxes a little. "Yeah. And hey, the people here weren't chased out or killed by Shinra. That's something."

Angeal looks at him curiously. "How do you know that?"

"The original owner left a scrap piece of letter behind. Apparently they were invited to the capital," Sephiroth says.

… Sephiroth reads the Wutai language? Huh. Angeal didn't know that.

"I guess that's good to know," he says and then sighs. "Okay, so. This… thing you're doing. Your energy alignment stuff. Is there anything I can do to help? What do you need?"

Sephiroth hesitates between moving some jars around and looks at him. "I need a proper cleared training area," he says and offers him a wry smile. "At least as big as the training room back at Shinra Building."

"I can do that, yeah," Angeal says. "Anything else?"

Sephiroth thinks about it for a moment before setting the jars back down. "I'll let you know."

Angeal nods and gets to it. There's not much he can do when Sephiroth refuses to trust him, but… he'd do what he could.

Hopefully by the end of it, it would be enough.

Time for a training montage.

#Fanfiction #ffvii #Ff7 #svsss #angeal hewley #sephiroth #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #reno of the turks

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n0vabug · 10 months

Text

Sleeping and Bowling

Summary: Reader sleeps in and Maddy skips school to go to her house, they cuddle, go bowling, yk that kind of stuff.

This was a request btw :)

Warnings: None, it's all fluff :) Words: 1.3k

THIRD PERSON POV

Maddy walked into school that morning and immediately went to her girlfriend's locker, like normal. Maddy waited and waited. No (Y/N). She thought it was kind of weird since (Y/N) rarely ever missed school. Even though she wouldn't say it out loud at the moment, she was a bit worried that (Y/N) hadn't bolted through the school doors to hug her. Maddy eventually walked away, she went to look for Jules to ask her if she knew where (Y/N) was. It turns out (Y/N) was actually perfectly fine. She was just overslept that morning and when she woke up, she just decided to stay home since she would've been late anyways. Jules and (Y/N) had always been close. Jules was the second person (Y/N) came out too and also the second person who knew (Y/N) liked Maddy, but the first, was Lexi. (Y/N) was also pretty close to Lexi as they both had similar personalities. Lexi and (Y/N) had been friends since primary school (first grade to be specific). Lexi knew about (Y/N) liking Maddy since they started High school, and the second Maddy and (Y/N) started dating, Lexi was thrilled, like jumping up and down and continuously hugging (Y/N).

"Hey bitch, do you know where my Girlfriend is?" Maddy asked the blonde

"Yeah, she just texted me and said that she slept in today so she's just saying home." Jules responded and chuckled a bit at the end. She found it kind of funny since (Y/N) never sleeps in and is always on time.

"I'm gonna kill her." Maddy said obviously joking, which made Jules laugh.

Maddy decided to leave school and spend the day with her girlfriend, she wanted to take her bowling that night, and maybe watch a movie with her, Maddy literally wanted to do anything with her. They both really loved each other, (Y/N) was always doing kind gestures, showing Maddy every love language and giving Maddy all her love. Maddy on the other hand loved it, she was more of a physical touch quality time of person though, but every time (Y/N) showed any type of love to Maddy, she always said, "Ew (Y/N), that's like really gay." after that, (Y/N) would just give Maddy a look of confusion and say, "Aren't you literally gay?" The first that time Maddy did this, (Y/N) didn't realize she was joking and was upset because she thought Maddy didn't want to be with her, which led Maddy into explaining that it was all a big joke and she didn't mean it and a lot of cuddles and kisses from her. Maddy obviously wasn't homophobic, she never has been.

Maddy left the school and immediately drove to (Y/N's) place. Maddy got to her house, walked up to the door and knocked. (Y/N's) mom answered the door, she was one of the nicest people Maddy had met, next to (Y/N) of course.

"Oh hi Maddy!"

"Hello Mrs. (L/N), is (Y/N) here?" Maddy questioned the older woman

"Yep, she overslept, but she is just hanging out in her room if you want to come in. Do you need anything?" (Y/N's) mom said while opening the door more so Maddy could come inside.

"No I'm fine, thank you though!" Maddy said with a smile on her face. (Y/N) and her mom were both genuinely nice people, that's what Maddy liked about there house, it was sweet.

Maddy knocked on (Y/N's) door, and before (Y/N) could even say "come in", Maddy had already walked in.

"Oh hey Mads, I didn't know you were-" Maddy cut (Y/N) off by pressing a soft kips to her lips, but sadly, the kiss didn't last long. "Well, that's one way to say hello" said (Y/N) laughing.

"Well if I'm being completely honest, you make it very hard for me to like not miss you." Said Maddy, and before (Y/N) could get a word out, Maddy spoke up again. "Oh also tonight, you should like totally come bowling with me, Kat, Ethan, and Jules, and then you and me come back to your house and have a sleepover, if it's okay with you."

"That sounds like a great idea, also you basically live here, Mads, and I love it when you stay, you don't have to ask me." (Y/N) said with a smile. Maddy just smiled and admired her girlfriend for a minute before cupping her cheeks and pulling her in for another kiss, this time one that lasted a bit longer, Maddy melted into this kiss as she felt the warmth of her girlfriends lips flow perfectly against her lips. After a few minutes they both pulled away, out of breath.

"Come on let's get ready for tonight."

"We still have 7 hours Maddy."

"Well I want to make sure we both look perfect and I want to do your makeup." Maddy said with a grin on. her face

"You know I don't like a ton of makeup Mads." (Y/N) responded "Why don't we like relax for a bit before getting ready, we don't need 7 hours."

"Ugh fine, can I do a little makeup at least, also if we're relaxing then we're cuddling." Maddy said with a satisfied smile on her face.

"Fine you can do a little bit of makeup." (Y/N) said which made Maddy smile. (Y/N) laid down and patted the spot next to her for Maddy. Maddy laid on (Y/N's) chest and buried her head in the crook of (Y/N's) neck. Maddy's arms were around (Y/N's) waist while (Y/N's) arms were on Maddy's back. The two laid like this for a while until they both fell asleep.

(Y/N) woke up and immediately panicked, not knowing what time it was and not realizing they both fell asleep. "Shit, shit, shit" she said, which woke Maddy up.

"What time is it?" (Y/N) asked in a panicked voice which worried Maddy a bit.

"Calm down baby, it's only 12:14." Maddy responded in a reassuring voice, which caused (Y/N) to let out a heavy breath that she didn't realize she was holding in, showing that she was relived.

"Wait, how the hell did we sleep for 4 hours." (Y/N) asked confused

"I don't know, but let's get ready, bowling is at 5."

"Okay Mads, we can get ready." (Y/N) said with a smile and kissed Maddy's forehead.

~~~Really short time-skip~~~

The two girls changed into their outfits, Maddy finished her makeup, and was adding finishing touches to (Y/N's), she was sitting down while Maddy straddled her lap.

"Can I add diamonds to it?"

"Sure, why not." (Y/N) said smiling

Maddy put a few diamonds on (Y/N's) face and smiled as she added the last one. "Okay, I'm done, what do you think?" Maddy moved off of (Y/N) as she got up and walked towards the mirror.

"You know, I'm not the biggest fan of makeup, but when you do it, I love it." (Y/N) said which made Maddy smile and pull her into a warm embrace.

"Come on let's go." Maddy said while grabbing her bag and intertwining her hand with (Y/N's) and dragging her to the car.

Maddy was always the one driving, she loved to treat (Y/N) like the passenger princess, Maddy loved to give her the aux, which is rare because Maddy doesn't even let Kat or Cassie (when they were still friends) control the music, but she loves (Y/N) so it didn't matter.

Both girls had arrived, they met up with Kat, Jules, and Ethan, they went bowling for a couple hours until they eventually were tired of it. Maddy and (Y/N) parted ways with the others and drove back to (Y/N's) house. They both took showers, put their pajamas on, and did whatever they had to do to get ready for bed. (Y/N) let Maddy pick a movie as they both laid on her bed, in the same position they were earlier. Maddy couldn't even see the movie because of the position she was in, but she didn't care.

"Hey, Mads?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you"

"I love you too (Y/N)" Maddy says, as she leans up and kisses (Y/N) on the forehead.

A/N I DON'T KNOW IF THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED AND STUFF BUT HERE IT IS. IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT THEN JUST LMK AND TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT ME TO FIX :). I HAD FUN WRITING THIS THOUGH. LMK IF YOU HAVE ANY MORE REQUESTS, THEY ARE ALWAYS OPEN AND IM LIKE NEVER BUSY EVER 😭😭. BUT YEAH LMK IF YOU WANT ANYTHING TO BE FIXED IN THIS OR IF ITS NOT WHAT YOU WERE LOOKING FOR.

#maddy perez x reader #maddy perez #cassie howard x reader #jules vaughn x reader #kat hernandez x reader #lexi howard x reader #rue bennet x reader #euphoria

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 5 months

Text

Prove Your Worth to Me (Brat-tamer!CEO!Nanami x Bratty!Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

“If you wish to leave, you can, but if you stay, you need to prove to me your worth. I’m not a man who gives things out so easily.”

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which you apply for a sectorial job, but the interview process is a lot more intense than you bargained for.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Dom!Nanami; sub!Reader; Black-coded!Reader (but anyone can still read this); Dubcon; Coercion; Brat-taming; Mild BDSM; Bondage; Degradation & Praise; Semi-Clothed Sex; Deepthroating; Hair-Pulling; Spitting; Mutual Oral; Doggystyle Over the Desk; Nanami Talks on the Phone While He F*cks You; Edge Play; Namecalling; Unprotected Creampie; Facial; PLOT TWIST

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: This is how I'm coping. Rest in peace, Kento. You were the best man & the best baby daddy ever. Imma come & help you build that house on the beach -Jazz

********

You sit in the waiting room in the pristine office, your fingers clutching your bag to stop your hands from shaking.

You're so nervous. Job interviews always seem to do damage to your nerves and confidence, even though you’ve done them many, many times before.

‘This is no different,’ you think to yourself, practicing the mantra you’ve had in your head for a week preparing for this interview. ‘It’s just an interview. He’s just a person. You are confident, intelligent, and a boss ass bitch, whether you get this job or not.’

But fuck, you hope you get it. It’s a really good position: a secretarial/assistant position for Kento Nanami, the CEO of Nanami Enterprises which specializes in human resources, charitable work, and citywide issues. Mr. Nanami is well-known throughout Japan as an entrepreneur and a very generous man, rich in intelligence and skills as well as money.

Seriously, the man is loaded. He is in every magazine, including Forbes, and has traveled all across the world closing business deals.

He is also extremely handsome. You’ve seen his face many times in the media with his sharp jaw, intense eyes, and neatly-cut blonde hair. You’ve heard he is taller in person (and bigger at that). You’ve seen him at press conferences and dinner parties, photographed in his expensive suits or even coming off of a private jet in his sunglasses, a permanent, stoic expression on his face. You’ve wondered many times what he looks like out of his designer clothes as any woman would to an attractive man.

But now that you’re about to meet him, all of this hits you much differently. Now that you’re sitting here in his pristine waiting room with its coffee machines and packaged snacks for clients and hearing the buzz of work activity–phones ringing; heels clicking across the floor, etc.–makes your heart scatter in your chest. Your palms sweat so frequently that you have to wipe them off on your pencil skirt every five minutes. You don’t know if you can handle any of this.

And you hate feeling this way. You know how good you are with job interviews. Every one you’ve sat for after applying, you’ve received. You take pride in the way you’re perceived, especially when it comes to appearance. Though your interview is at 10am today, you woke up at damn near the ass crack of dawn and primped yourself. You ironed your outfit, choosing a cream-colored blouse that you tucked into your pencil skirt, nylon stockings, and heels. You curled your hair. You spritzed on sweet-smelling perfume. You even planned your makeup look several days beforehand which has been executed well.

You look good…but you don't feel good. How are you possibly supposed to nail this interview if you can’t even stop your hands from shaking? “Stop it,” you hiss to yourself, glad that you’re the only one in the waiting room. “You will get this job. You deserve this job.”

And it sounds like a good job position. Like, one that any person would strive to possess in this materialistic world where capitalism rules the earth. You found it on Glassdoor and as soon as you read the description and qualifications (a college degree, certain skills, attitude, etc.), you applied.

As a secretary working here, you would be working closely with Nanami as his personal assistant to help him take care of his work and anything he doesn’t have a chance to get to, such as scheduling appointments and meetings for him, and attending them in some cases, making and taking calls, and other office and secretarial work. The pay is much better than your current job that you desperately want to leave.

You’re tired of working underneath an asshole who only cares about his money and could give less of a shit about his employees or their issues.

Were you expecting Maki, one of Nanami’s assistants, to reach out to you? Definitely not. But here you are, sitting primped, polished, and positively terrified two weeks later after receiving that joyous email for an interview. You just hope you can hold onto your wits and–

“Ms. L/N?” You startle at the sound of your last name and look up into the eyes of Maki from behind her glasses. She stands at the threshold of the waiting room in a black turtleneck and slacks that hug her toned frame. You can already tell she has every man in here simping for her. “Mr. Nanami is ready for you now,” she says. Though she doesn’t smile, her tone is warm. “I have to deliver something, so one of his other assistants will walk you to his office.”

“T-Thank you,” you say, cringing slightly at your stutter. If Maki notices, she doesn’t act as if she does and doesn’t mention it. She leads you halfway across the hallway to introduce you to Mai, a shorter version of Maki with no glasses, short hair, and wearing a low-cut red blouse that probably would drive any guy crazy. “Gosh, you are gorgeous!” She gushes as soon as she sees you. “And your hair looks fabulous. You’d definitely turn heads here.”

You smile bashfully while Maki rolls her eyes. “Can you please just take her to Nanami’s office for her interview?” she sighs. “You know he hates lateness.” She gives you a nod then, her eyes kind despite how intense they seem. “Good luck, Ms. L/N,” she says before heading off to do her work, her hips swaying in her slacks.

“She’s something, isn’t she?” Mai giggles as she presses a button to one of the elevators next to you. “That’s my sister. She’s always that sweet and bubbly.” She gives you a wink. You giggle to yourself, deciding you like both of them and you wonder what the rest of the team here is like.

Mai presses the elevator button to the upper floor and leads you inside the damning doors that automatically shut once you are both inside. Silence swells around the tiny box and you can hear your heart pumping madly in your head. You see Mai look at you out of your peripheral version. “Nervous?” she asks. You give her a sheepish smile. “Does it show?” you chuckle.

“He really isn’t a tough guy,” Mai says, contrary to what you think. “He just likes everything to be perfect and detailed, right down to the T. Judging by your resume, I think you’re fit for the job!” She gives you a bright, comforting smile that is impossible to ignore or not feel. You thank her for the compliment, feeling somewhat better. One the elevator doors open on the floor, she walks you down the pristine hallway with marble walls and grey carpeting until you come to two oak double doors.

Mai smiles at you despite you wanting to book it. “Right this way,” she says, motioning to the door. “This is his office right here.” She knocks for you three times, loud and clear. “Come in,” a deep, clear voice calls out. It sends shivers down your spine. Maki opens the door then and it’s like the gates of Hell opening for you.

You are met with a gorgeous, spacious office that is fit for a CEO. On one side is a lounging space with a flat-screened TV, black leathered seats, and a bookcase filled with books of all genres and kinds. On the other is a kitchenette with all stainless steel appliances, including a fridge, freezer, microwave, dishwasher and dryer, and a mini bar where a bottle of scotch and a wine rack sit. In the middle sits a wide, polished, oak desk with a large glass window overlooking the city where a man sits behind his laptop and a mug of coffee.

A very handsome man at that. His jaw is sharp, his face slim, not a stitch of facial hair anywhere on his face. His blonde hair is combed and styled perfectly almost if he purposely styled each strand. When he looks up, you’re taken aback by not only his looks but the aura he gives off. It is powerful and intimidating despite his calm and cool demeanor. It’s only intensified by the gray suit jacket he wears over a crisp blue button-up shirt that he’s paired with matching slacks, red bottom shoes, and a yellow, leopard-printed tie. You nearly giggle at the way the tie stands out against the rest of his outfit, giving him a hint of personality.

When his green eyes meet yours from across the room, you feel all of the air in your body leave you. A current of electricity courses from your body to his, making the room feel tense despite the coolness of the office. He gives you a stoic expression as if he is irritated that he was interrupted. “Your 10 o’clock is here, sir!” Mai brightly announces. “For Y/N L/N?”

Nanami’s eyebrows raise slightly. “Ah, yes,” he replies. He stands from his desk, giving you a chance to see how tall he is. The man is nearly six foot! You swear that you nearly fall out right there. “My interview. Thank you, Mai, that will be all.”

Mai respectfully bows before turning on her heel to face you. “Good luck,” she whispers with a wink before closing the door behind you. Then it’s just you and him. You stand near the door while Nanami comes around the front of the desk, still keeping that same cool, blank expression. You feel like a deer who is being sized up for dinner by a lion. “So you’re here,” he says. “And only two minutes late.”

You feel embarrassment flood you, making you hot all over you. You know he’s testing you, trying to make you break right off the bat…but you won’t let him. You clear your throat and meet him halfway, putting your hand out for a shake. “Mr. Nanami,” you calmly say. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I arrived here ten minutes early than my scheduled time, but one of your assistants had to leave me for work duties.” You give him a smile as the cherry on top. ‘See? I’m good.’

Nanami’s eyebrows raise slightly, obviously impressed by your quick-wittedness and ability to read the room. “Not bad,” he praises you. “The pleasure is all mine, Ms. L/N.” His larger hand meets yours, giving you a chance to feel his calloused palm and thick fingers. You try to avoid thinking about them around your neck. “Please, have a seat.”

He motions to the cushioned seats in front of you while he takes his seat behind his desk, shutting his laptop. "You’ll have to forgive me for my tartness. I had a no-show earlier for an 8 o’clock meeting and I’m not a man of those.” You nod understandably. “It’s okay,” you say. “I can understand that. I’ve never been a fan of no-shows either.” You cross your legs as you sit, folding your hands in your lap.

“Are you referring to your current job as a research assistant?” he questions. The corner of his lips twitch at the look of shock you give him. You damn near forgot where you work at! “I did my studying for today. Your resume is very interesting.” Interesting. You don’t know whether to be happy with that statement or nervous. “Oh…thank you. I actually have it here with me as a copy.”

You go into your bag where you retrieve a folder and several copies of your resume. You pass one to Nanami who barely cracks a smile at the fact that you are prepared. He must be trying to size you up, see if you’re fit for the position. You watch him read over the paper, his index finger dragging over each section.

“So you graduated with a 3.8 GPA with a Bachelor’s Degree in marketing and communications,” he points out. You nod, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart. “Yes, originally, I was studying political science, but I changed my major during my sophomore year.”

“May I ask why?” he asks, raising a curious eyebrow. You’re more than happy to give him an answer. “Politics can become too messy in my opinion, not to mention that the major was extremely competitive. I was also working as an intern at the time and on the–“

“Cheerleading team,” he finishes. “Yes, that’s listed here in your extra curriculum activities, but you left the team during your senior year, it appears.” He gives you a sharp look that is pushing you to give him an explanation. Your brain grasps for straws. “Um…senior year is a busy time for all students,” you quickly explain. “At the time, I was just trying to finish school so I could graduate on time, which I accomplished, fortunately.”

Nanami only gives a “huh” at this which isn’t the response you are looking for. “Huh” as in “oh, that’s interesting” or “huh” as in “this bitch isn’t reliable and can’t handle shit when shit gives tough”?

“Let’s talk about your current position.” He folds his big, calloused hands on top of his desk, on your resume. “It seems like a promising position. Why do you want to leave there and come work here?”

You sit up straight, happy that you practiced for this exact question. “Well, I just believe it’s time for me to move onto something new; preferably onto a new company that has a diverse team and benefits for its employees. I believe that your company does so.” Nanami leans forward slightly, peering deep into the recesses of your soul behind his spectacles. “So what exactly do you think you can offer this company, Ms. L/N?” he asks. “Or more specifically, what can you offer me?”

Your stomach drops. You didn’t practice for this question. “U-Um…I’m a quick learner,” you reply, forcing yourself to keep eye contact. “I’m not afraid to ask questions if I’m unsure, but I’m also not afraid to lean on myself for answers. I work well independently as well as in a team. I’m hardworking, determined, and detail-oriented. I’m also willing to do whatever work is necessary to succeed.”

Nanami’s eyebrows raise once more. “Whatever work necessary?” he parrots, quiet interest in his tone. “Elaborate on that for me. What kind of work or things would you be willing to do in order to succeed at this company, Ms. L/N?”

Your brain begins to jump from place to place, grabbing at whatever. “Staying longer hours,” you decide. “I know this is a 9-5 position, but if you ever needed me to stay longer to get a head start on work or complete something, I’d be willing to do so. I’m also good at creating Powerpoint presentations for meetings. A-And I’m well-organized.” Now you’re stuttering. Stumbling over your answers. You’re fucking up! He’s going to see your nervous and unconfident and put you on the chopping block!

Nanami stares you down for a moment longer, making you feel like you’re on trial and he’s a judge, before leaning back in his seat. He places his hands in his lap, ever poised and sexy. “Hm,” he hums. “As much as I appreciate your willingness to stay longer hours, Ms. L/N, I will be honest with you: you’re not the first person who I’ve interviewed who gave me all of this jargon in hopes of getting the position and then didn’t deliver on any of their promises or skills.”

You nervously gnaw on your bottom lip, gripping your hands to force them to stop shaking. “I’m sure you have,” you quietly reply, “but I’m also sure I can change your mind and prove that I’m worthy of this position, Mr. Nanami.”

Something sparkles in Nanami’s forest-green eyes and the corner of his mouth twitches. “Worthy?” he questions. “That’s a new one: worthy.” He tests it out on his tongue as if it’s a new kind of food. Something foreign to him. He leans towards you once more, placing his hands on the desk. “Well, let me ask you this: do you think that you’re confident enough to work beside me if you do happen to get this position? Because from what I’m seeing, you’re not.”

You’re so busy thinking about how handsome he is that you nearly miss his criticism. But when you catch it, you feel cold like you were just dunked in a pool of ice. You stare at him, dumbfounded. “Excuse me?” you ask, squinting at him.

Nanami barely reacts to your reaction. “You stutter a lot,” he bluntly points out. “Whether out of habit or because you’re nervous which shows the employer, which is me, that you’re not confident in your words or thoughts. Then it’s in your body language: your shoulders are up by your ears and obviously tense, your skin is flushed, and your hands are shaking.”

And he’s right. You can feel how tense and hot you are; how shaky and unbalanced you feel. You feel like crawling under the chair you’re sitting in and hiding from his scrutiny. But you also won’t allow him to expose you like this. “Well, I would think that nervousness is a common human emotion,” you retort.

He nods, giving you a point for your fairness. “It is…but judging by your resume, I’m sure you’ve sat through many job interviews, and got the jobs as I’m seeing here.” He takes his glasses off, revealing his naked eyes to you. “So what makes this one so different? Why are you so nervous to be here with me today?”

You can tell he’s trying hard to make you crack. He’s trying to see if you’re able to handle the pressure. Though you feel nervous and embarrassed, you also feel incredibly pissed. How dare you try to grill you like this? You can’t let him win this. You won’t. “Mr. Nanami,” you carefully say, your tone calm yet firm, “I understand what you’re trying to do here, but I’m not really appreciating it. It seems like more of a grilling session than a job interview. Aren’t we supposed to be talking about the job?”

Nanami barely even blinks. “We have,” he replies. “And now I’m trying to decide if you are seriously fit for such a position. I take my work very seriously, Ms. L/N, and I need to be sure that you will take my work, as well yours, seriously as well. I can’t have you cracking under pressure or second-guessing things. Those are all signs of being unconfident.” He leans forward, squinting his eyes at you. “Now, do you think you can handle it?” he questions.

You want to say yes, but you know he’ll argue with you. He’ll come up with all kinds of logic to tell you why you aren’t qualified for this position. So you keep quiet instead, just staring him down and forcing yourself to not look away. The more you stare, the hotter you get until you realize that it’s not out of embarrassment. This heat is out of attraction. Despite your anger, he’s just so goddamn fine! So you look down at your shoes, too afraid for him to see your true feelings under the anger.

Finally, Nanami heaves a sigh and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see it,” he sighs. “I’m afraid this is where we–“

“What?” you snap, causing him to stop short. You glare at him, enraged. “That’s it? You bring me in here for an interview just to tell me you’re not hiring me because you don’t think I’m confident?” You square your jaw at him and put a hand to your chest. “I am confident,” you hiss. “If you let me show you, I can prove it to you, Mr. Nanami.”

Now, Nanami smirks. It's rousing and mocking, angering you even more. “Oh,” he nearly chuckles. “So now you want to look at me. And your emotions are easily roused which could complicate your work if you were to work here.”

The room has gotten too hot. Too tense. You can’t handle this. If you’re here any longer, you’ll surely jump over this desk and wring his thick neck. “You know what?” you scoff haughtily. “I don’t need to sit here and be criticized like this. I may want this job, but I don’t want it that much to allow myself to be grilled like this.” You abruptly stand from your chair, nearly knocking it over. He looks up at you, his expression cool.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Nanami,” you nearly growl. “Have a good day.” You then whip around to storm out of the office, prepared to leave and never return.

“Stop.” The command cuts through the air along with Nanami’s deep voice. You do so and turn to face him, confused. He is still sitting down, his steely eyes glaring at you from across the room. “Sit down,” he orders. You gawk at him. Is he serious right now? “Why?” you cackle. “So you can go and grill me some more on why I’m not a good candidate for this position? Thanks, but no–“

“I said.” The sound of his chair squeaking across the floor stops you short. He stands behind his desk, blocking the window with his big, tall frame. His expression is dark and intimidating, his eyes daring you to argue with him again. “Sit. Down. Y/N.” His tone is hard as steel with a slight undercurrent of a growl underneath.

You stand there, taken aback at his change in demeanor. And even more so in the way it makes you feel. You feel tingly and hot, specially between your legs. Nanami continues to stare at you, silently daring you to disobey his order. Against your better judgement, you slowly walk back over to his desk on legs that feel like Jell-O and sit down. Your eyes find your shoes again, afraid to look into his as he sits back down behind his desk.

“You really think you got it like that?” he asks. “You really think that you have what it takes to work for me? With me?” Your heart flips wildly at his questions and the roughness to his tone. He seems so calm and collected. Who the fuck is this? “Answer the question,” he demands.

You swallow roughly before opening your mouth. “Yes,” you breathlessly reply.

That is all Nanami needs to hear. He stands again, coming around the desk to stand beside you. You tremble, harshly biting your lip. “You said you’d prove to me your confidence and other assets that you can bring to this position if I let you.”

Zzzzip. The familiar sound of a zipper coming down stops you short. You turn your head toward him in time to see his hips and crotch in your face and his hands working his belt off. “Well, now I’m letting you.” Your eyes follow his hands as he shrugs his pants down his waist before reaching into his Armani briefs to reveal his throbbing, hard, veiny cock to you. “Show me what you mean, Ms. L/N. Prove to me your worth.”

Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. This can’t be…he isn’t…he can’t… “W-What is this?” you gasp. “Mr. Nanami, you can’t–“

“Can’t what?” he asks. You look up at him, seeing nothing but molten lust in his eyes. “Don’t act as if you weren't hoping I’d do this to you. You wore that skirt and those heels for an obvious reason than to just seem presentable.” He nods at your outfit, making you feel ashamed. “And don't think I didn’t catch the way you looked at me when you walked in or the way you kept crossing and uncrossing your legs under the table. You’re fucking feening right now, aren't you, brat?”

Brat. The name and the sharpness of his tone makes your stomach flip. “What?” you squeak. “I’m not a–“

“Talking back too?” he tsks. He places a hand on the back of your hair, near your scalp. “That just won’t do. A girl like you needs to be put in her place, don’t you agree?” He places his other hand on his cock, slowly pumping the hardened shaft in your face. “This is your decision, Y/N,” he huskily says. “If you wish to leave, you can, but if you stay, you need to prove to me your worth. I’m not a man who gives things out so easily.”

Your eyes tick from him to his cock, back and forth like ping pong balls. You weigh your options carefully: if you say no, you’re out of a really good job and will be forced to return to the dreaded application process, but if you say yes, you’ll be nothing but a cock-sucking slut. What if he doesn’t even give you the job?

“So what’s it gonna be, little girl?” Nanami hums. Looking back down at his cock, you take your chances. You wrap one tentative hand around the base of his dick, causing him to shimmy closer to you so he’s closer to your mouth. You then begin pressing light kisses around the head and length of his cock, feeling how warm his skin is against your lips. “There we are,” he softly moans. “Good girl.”

The praise causes your pussy to twitch in delight and you find yourself beginning to lick up and down his long cock while your hands pump the base. He feels so heavy and thick in your hand. As you do this, soft moans drip from Nanami’s lips, deep and arousing. Your tongue and soft hands on him cause him to reach into his briefs to pull out his heavy balls, letting them hang as you continue to pump him. Your mind is racing, your eyes moving to the door ever so often.

Nanami catches you and chuckles to himself. “Don’t worry; my door has an automatic lock. Maki was only able to open it because I left it unlocked in the case of an appointment….or in the case of visits from horny little sluts like you.”

You whimper at his degrading words, still slobbering along his cock and wetting it with your saliva. Finally, Nanami stops you and takes your chin into his hand, forcing you to look up at him. “So if I were to tell you that I was stressed and in need of relieving, what would you say to that?” he asks. The question would sound random to anyone else, but you know what he means right off the bat.

So you give him the answer he is searching for: “I’d ask if I could help you,” you softly reply, your voice breathy and soft. Nanami’s cock twitches in response. “Then show me,” he demands, taking his cock and gently smacking the head against your chin. “Open your mouth for me, brat.”

And you do so. As soon as your open your mouth, Nanami is hypnotized by your tongue and thick, juicy lips spread open for him. He angles his hips towards your mouth and slowly pushes inside, groaning as he does. “Christ!” he grunts, gripping the back of your head. “Your mouth is so tight and wet, darling.”

Your moans are muffled as his cock slides into your mouth, stretching out your jaw. Your eyes, stinging with tears, widen at how large he is. You’ve never had a cock this big in your mouth before. Your eyes tick up at Nanami, watching as he strips himself of his suit jacket before unbuttoning his shirt. He reveals his bare, toned chest and hard, pink nipples as he begins to roll his hips against your mouth, forcing you to take more of him. “Come on, brat,” he demands. “Take my cock. Isn’t this what you were after?”

His shaft slides against your tongue, filling your mouth and senses with nothing but the salty taste of his pre-cum, the scent of his cologne in your nostrils, and the feeling of his hand gripping the back of your head. He pushes you down onto his cock, forcing himself into your throat. A gargled moan leaves your lips as he throws his head back and groans at the feeling of being trapped inside your hot, tight throat. “I’ll go nice and slow, okay?” he coos.

He then begins to slowly roll his hips against your mouth, causing his cock to plunge in and out of your throat, getting deeper each time. His heavy balls swing against your chin, becoming wet with the spit that has begun to pool and drip over your lips. Nanami tuts at the sight of you being a slobbery, sloppy mess for him as he fucks your face. “Such a mess,” he sighs. “Just a dirty, bratty little slut, doesn’t even know how to keep herself clean.”

He wraps a hand around your braids and forces your head back, yanking his cock out of your mouth. You gasp at the sharp sting coming from your scalp. “You want this?” he murmurs, staring down at you. “You want this cock? Tell me no and I’ll stop.” Your eyes stare at the cock, now shining in your saliva, bobbing in front of you. Your pussy clenches impatiently in your panties, gushing all in the cotton article of clothing. You want this. You want him. “Yes,” you whisper. “Yes, I want your cock. Please give it to me, sir.”

Nanami closes his eyes and inhales as if your words are a drug that he just got a hit of. “Call me Kento, darling,” he says as he plunges his cock back into your mouth. “Though ‘sir’ does sound quite nice.” He begins to thrust his hips roughly into your mouth, fucking your throat like it is his own personal toy. “It’d be a…fuck…a joy to hear you call me that every single day I…shit, darling…come in here. Even better to hear you moan it. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Your words are a garbled, mumbling mess around his cock, your voice taken from the sound the lewd, sloppy sounds leaving your lips as he mercilessly fucks your throat. You gag and spit around his shaft, earning praise by his orgasmic moans and grunts. The more he fucks your mouth, the harder his grip on your hair gets until you can feel your scalp burning. But you endure it. You also find yourself enjoying the bite of pain along with the feeling of being used. This is so degrading: being used as a fuck toy in such a way.

And you love every second of it.

“Fuck!” Nanami growls, finally pulling his throbbing cock out of your mouth. It bobs against your lips before he pulls away, slowly pumping the appendage in your face. You gasp, finally free to breathe. You are a complete mess, saliva dripping down your chin and staining your blouse; hair askew; makeup ruined. The blonde man stares down at you, your hair still wrapped in his fist. “Look at you,” he huffs. “You’re a fucking mess. Came in here all pretty just to get ruined by me, didn’t you?”

You whimper at his words, your pussy tingling. His thumb moves across your plump lower lip, spreading the saliva across your lips. “Oh…does my little brat love being degraded?” Hot embarrassment makes you flush. “N-No, I–“

You’re silenced by Nanami’s hand squeezing your cheeks, causing your lips to pucker. “Lying?” he sharply asks, his gaze dark. “You have the nerve to fix your mouth to say that shit to me yet your body betrays you.” He nods down at your thighs that clench together and your hardened nipples that have begun to poke through the mesh fabric of your bra. “I guess you need some attention too,” he sighs. “I just can’t decide whether you really deserve my touch.”

He unhands you then, stepping away from you and leaving you feeling empty. The stinging sensation coming from your scalp and throat are all that remain of him. You feel like you’re burning up. There’s an all-consuming fire eating at your body and between your legs. You need him. You bend down to press your head to his shoes, your trembling hands grasping his pant legs. “Please, sir,” you beg. “Please touch me. You can’t leave me like this!”

An aloof chuckle leaves Nanami’s lips. “Oh, I can’t?” he asks. “I can’t let you walk out of here with that pussy gushing for me and that mascara running?” You desperately whimper and babble pleas for more, the aching of your sobbing, wet pussy too much to bare. Fortunately, it’s enough for Nanami to give in.

“Oh, alright,” he pitifully sighs, "but only because you look so oh-so pathetic. And you did such a good job sucking my cock just now. Stand up.” You immediately rise to your wobbly feet as soon as the order is uttered. Nanami gives you a hot stare as his hand trails up the front of your blouse. “Let’s get these fucking clothes off,” he growls impatiently. “Oh, and I almost forgot.”

Suddenly, his lips are on yours, rough and wanton. You moan into the kiss as his hot, wet tongue begins to explore yours, swirling around your mouth and tasting himself off of your tongue. His kiss is hungry and hard; not at all soft or romantic. He is desperate for you. Breathy groans and gasps leaves his lips as his hands begin to quickly unbutton each button to your pretty silk blouse. Soon, he becomes impatient and ends up tearing the thing off of you, resulting in a button flying off.

You gasp, pulling away from the sloppy kiss as he flings your top open to reveal your lacy black bra. “Sir!” you shout in protest. “Kento, please! You’ll ruin it!” He tears the rest of the top off of you, pulling it off of your arms and tossing it to the side like it didn’t cost you a pretty penny. Nanami rolls his eyes at your dramatics. “You can rest assure you’ll be receiving the money for new clothing…if you do a good job for me now, that is.”

As his lips and tongue find yours again, his veiny hands then begin to slide up and down your chest, fondling your breasts over your bra cups. You softly moan at his touch into his mouth, the tingling sensation you’re feeling between your thighs quickly growing. He pulls away from the kiss, gently tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth. “Mmm, such gorgeous breasts you have, darling,” he groans. “Too bad they belong to such a slutty brat.”

Without warning, he slides your bra straps down your shoulders and slides the bra cups down to reveal your breasts and hard, brown nipples, pebbled by the cold and your arousal. A crazed look crosses Nanami’s eyes before he ducks down to capture a nipple into his mouth. “Shit,” you gasp, your hands finding his hair. His tongue wraps around your nipple, lapping at the tiny bud as his hand works your other breast, fondling it.

Your mouth falls open and your eyes flutter closed at the new sensations you’re feeling. He then switches to the other, sucking and tugging on the nipple with his teeth, smirking at your sharp intake of breath. He alternates between each nipple, sucking, lapping, and licking at each like a hungered man desperate for water. With each torturous second, the tingling and ache in your cunt grow, making you go nearly insane. “A-Ah,” you moan. “K-Kento…fuck, sir, please!” You arch your back, pushing your breasts further into Nanami’s mouth.

He chuckles, pulling away from your nipple with a string of saliva dripping from his bottom lip. He looks up at you, his eyes shimmering with lust. “Getting worked up over having your nipples sucked? Such a sensitive little thing you are, Ms. L/N. Now bend over.” You blink at him, momentarily confused and still recovering from the foreplay. “W-What?” you nimbly ask.

Nanami gives you a stern look, a darkness coming over his gaze. “I didn’t stutter, brat,” he growls. “If I tell you to do something, you do it. How else will I be able to depend on you for this job?” He peels himself away from your naked breasts and nods at his desk. “Now bend over my desk now before I do it for you.” He then cracks one of his hands at his sides, the sound of his knuckle cracking making you gulp (and cream in your panties).

You do as he says and bend over his desk, being careful to not knock over his laptop, mug, or papers. You brace your hands against the oakwood surface, biting your lip when you feel Nanami’s presence behind you. You’re a wreck before he even touches you, but when he finally slides his hands up your skirt to grip your thighs, you’re shaking. His hands move all across your thighs and backside, gripping your ass over your skirt. “Damn this skirt,” he growls. “Damn this ass of yours. Apologies, darling, but I have to spank you. After all, you deserve punishment for such naughty behavior.”

He leans down toward you, his minty breath in your face and lips at your ear. “Do you want your punishment, slut?” he questions barely above a whisper. Pathetically, you nod, arching your back and presenting your ass to him. “Y-Yes, sir,” you reply. “Please punish me. Make me your good girl.”

That answer pleases Nanami. He slides your skirt up to reveal your ass––and the lace, black panties underneath your nylon stockings. “Brace yourself, darling; my hands are rough.”

Spank! The moment Nanami’s hand makes contact with your asscheek, you jump and gasp at the stinging sensation. His hands really are rough. Nanami chuckles at your reaction. “Yeah, you like that, naughty girl?” He does it again invoking a low, desperate moan from the deepest depths of you. Spank! “Y’know, I saw you staring at my hands earlier.”

Spank! “I bet all you thought about in that dumb little brain of yours is me bending you over and doing this to you.”

Spank! “I bet you want someone to come in and find us like this, your pretty ass bent over my desk.”

Spank! Spank! Spank!

He does this again and again, punishing your ass until it is stinging and possibly red with his handprints on each cheek. Though it hurts and brings tears to your eyes, it also makes you wetter. The pain mixed with your pleasure is one intoxicating cocktail that you can't get enough of. Soon, your pussy has a heartbeat and it throbs impatiently, ready for something to be inside of it.

“Sir, please!” you whine, gripping the desk for dear life. “I can’t take it anymore! I’m sorry for being such a brat!”

“Mmm-hmm,” Nanami hums, pleased with your confession. You feel him begin to yank at your stockings, pulling the waistband down your hips. “I bet that pussy is too,” he murmurs as he quickly pulls your stockings down your legs. He is rough and ends up putting a tear in one of them, but you’re way too horny to care. He then reaches your panties and pulls them down, groaning at the way your pussy lips stick to the cotton fabric. “And she is. Just look at how she’s crying for me.”

You can feel how wet you are judging by the way your pussy tingles in the cold. Nanami bends down and gently blows on it, causing you to tense and softly whimper at the tiny bit of contact. “Such a beautiful pussy you have,” he coos. “And all for me.” Before you can even take a breath, he is gently prying your asscheeks apart and spitting on your pussy before digging in and slurping his saliva back up.

As he does this, his tongue swirls along your clit and his pillowy-soft lips cushion your pussy, running along your slit as he plays with your cunt with his mouth. You gasp, moan, and sob into the desk, wanting to dig your nails into the oakwood with how good he is. He eats your pussy like it’s a profession of his, taking his time getting to know the ins and outs of you. He even slides his hand up to gently run his thumb over your puckered asshole while he tongue fucks you, groaning appreciatively at your taste.

Your toes curl inside your heels and your hands grasp to grab for something only to get polished wood beneath you. You’ve never gotten so close so quickly before. Usually, it takes a while for a man to get you even a mile from cumming, but not with Nanami. He moves his mouth and tongue with precision against your clit, moving between fast and slow depending on how your body reacts.

But when his thumb begins to caress your asshole, you just about lose it. “Oh, God,” you sob, tears of pleasure pricking your eyes. “Kento, just fuck me. I need you to fuck me!”

Then…nothing. The feeling of your nearing orgasm fades. Nanami stops eating you out immediately and you’re left wondering what happened. His hand suddenly finds your hair and roughly yanks it back, causing you to release a strangled gasp. It hurts way more than earlier, his grip tight and merciless.

He bends his face down to meet yours, his eyes dark and almost frightening. “You don't tell me what the fuck to do, brat,” he growls. “I decide what to do to your body. Me. Understand?”

His grip tightens more and the stinging in your scalp of your braids being yanked nearly makes you see God early. “Yes!” you sob. “Yes, sir, I’m sorry! This pussy just needs you so bad!” Finally, he loosens his grip and releases your hair, emitting a weak moan of pain from you.

“Alright, brat,” he cooly says. “I’ll fuck you…but we’ll do it my way. Put your hands behind your back, wrists crossed.”

You do as you’re told, putting your hands behind your back and crossing them over one another. You then feel Nanami’s funny-looking tie wrap around your wrists, tightening them and securing them behind your back.

You softly gasp at the sensations of being restricted to which Nanami pauses. “Good?” he asks. You nod and he proceeds to continue to tie your wrists until he is finally satisfied. “There we go,” he proudly says. “Now you can’t squirm or make a fuss when I plunge my cock deep inside of you.”

And you can’t. Your arms are completely restricted from movement, as is the rest of you as you stand between the desk and Nanami mounted behind you. He ruts his hips against your ass for a few minutes, sliding his cock between your slit and over your throbbing clit, relishing the sounds you make as you lay splayed out against his desk.

“Here I come, baby,” he whispers before sliding all the way home inside you. You gasp in unison as his thick cock stretches out your wet pussy walls, filling you up the way you’ve been waiting for.

He starts slow at first, grabbing your hips and slowly rolling his hips so you can get used to his length and girth. Your hand flies to your mouth to cover it, muffling your moans. Nanami doesn’t like that. He tears your hand away from your face, pinning it back down on the desk. “My walls are soundproof,” he grunts. “You have no need to worry. Come on, baby; give me those slutty sounds I know you can make.”

He begins to fuck you harder against the desk, one hand gripping your hip while the other lays flat on the middle of your back, keeping you pressed flat against the oakwood surface. As soon as he hits that spot inside you, you can’t keep quiet. You begin wailing in pleasure, overcome with the feeling he is giving you. “O-Oh, fuck!” you gasp. “Fuck, sir!”

Nanami draws more of these moans and wails of pleasure out of you the more he fucks you until he is pounding your pussy against the desk. “God, you’re so tight!” he groans. “You’re much better than the fleshlight I keep under my desk. You’d be a much better addition to my office for stress.” He gives your ass a smack before lifting your leg up and fucking into you at a faster pace that is making you see the entire galaxy.

“Take it,” he demands. “Take this cock. You wanted it so bad and now you’ve got it.” Yes, you do have it…but you don’t know if you can take it. Every rough thrust of his cock sends you into orbit. It shakes the desk with you bent over it, making your titties bounce against the surface and your ass jiggle against his hips. “Wait, sir!” you plea. “Go slow! Can’t…handle…it!” Your words are broken by the force of how hard he is fucking you, taking you very breath away.

Nanami cackles like a villain straight out of a Disney movie as he looks over your plump ass pressed against him, his cock nestled deep in your ushy, gushy pussy. “Ohhh, is this cock too much for that poor pussy?” he teasingly asks. “Is it too big and thick for that slutty little hole to take? I believe I missed the part where I gave a fuck.”

He continues to turn you all the way out, making the desk rock and causing his balls to swing against your clit, throwing you deeper into pleasure. “This is what you get for being a brat,” he grunts. “This is what you get for disobeying me. What you get for wearing that skirt and those heels. This is what–“

Rrrring! Rrrring!

Nanami doesn’t slow his pace or stop his rough fucking into your cunt despite his work phone ringing. You weakly look up at the black telephone sitting by his laptop. “This is a call from Satoru Gojo,” the automated voice announces from the phone.

“Shit!” Nanami hisses. He bends down toward you then, his nose nearly centimeters from yours. “I’ve gotta take this, but don’t you dare say a single thing. Don’t make a sound.”

You weakly nod, covering your mouth as he goes to pick up the phone. After a moment of composing himself, he clears his throat and answers. “Yes, Satoru?” he asks, keeping his voice steady and cool as if he isn’t fucking your brains out over his desk. “This had better be important. I’m busy at the moment.”

“You’re always busy!” Gojo shouts into the phone, causing Nanami to flinch. “It’s what you always say when I ask for you to come out with me on the weekends…which you never do!”

Nanami sighs and you picture him rolling his eyes from behind you as he grips one of your asscheeks, no doubt leaving bruises. “That’s because all you do is hang out at clubs to fuck strangers and drink yourself into a stupor.”

“Yeah!” Gojo agrees. “And it’s fun! You ever heard of that before? Fun? You ever try it? I think it’d do you good one of these days to have it some time, Keni.”

This “Satoru” guy must really work Nanami’s nerves because you can feel the tension radiating off of him. He finds your hair and he grips it, continuing to pound into you at a faster pace than before. “What do you want?” He asks, becoming impatient. He yanks on your hair a little too rough and you whimper from behind your hand, your body tensing. Nanami quickly loosens his grip, looking down upon you with worry. ”Too rough?” he whispers.

You look back at him and shake your head though your scalp burns. But you want it to burn. You want to take every single of ounce of pain and pleasure he gives you. “No,” you whisper. “I’m okay.” You begin to fuck back into him, tossing your ass back to fuck his cock, watching his face contort in pleasure. “Fuck me harder, sir,” you purr. “Take your stress out on this pussy. Make this little slut yours.”

Nanami’s eyes widen like he can’t believe you’re really real. “Fucking hell,” he whispers. Suddenly realizing he’s still on the phone, he puts the phone back to his ear while he roughly pins you back down to the desk. “Sorry, what?” he questions.

“I was telling you about the meeting we’re supposed to have at the end of the week,” Gojo repeats. “Were you listening to me at all?” You groan as Nanami’s cock sinks deeper inside you and your hand finds your slit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. “Sorry, I got…distracted.” You giggle behind your hand. “Is this about the brand deal with the Human Rights Campaign? I told them we get 50% of proceeds.”

“Not just them, but the New York Times too!” Gojo excitedly states. “I pulled some strings for us, man! They want to do a story on both of our departments! Say, ain’t it weird that we’re both a part of the same company but my department is all the way in the fucking US?”

Nanami rails you harder; deeper; faster. Pushing you further and further towards an explosive orgasm. “Gojo, I told you already,” he grunts. “You’re part of the American branch while I’m part of–“

His words are quickly interrupted by a sharp gasp when you begin tossing your ass back into him, looking back at him as you do it. He glares down at you like he is one second away from ruining you. “You fucking brat,” he snarls. “You’re gonna get it later.”

“Who’s gonna get it later?” Gojo asks curiously. “Nanami, you good? You’re acting kinda off. Are you with somebody right now?” Your heart lurches into your throat, but your pussy also clenches at the idea of being caught. “No,” Nanami sharply replies, yanking on your hair. “No, it was just a bug I saw. Listen, I’ve gotta go.”

You thank God for that because you don’t think you can keep quiet anymore. You have to clamp your hand over your mouth and bite your palm to keep from screaming at the deep dicking you’re receiving. “So we’re on meeting both HRC and NYT on Friday?” Gojo asks. “It starts at 1PM to about 3, but I’ll be bringing wine along so that might turn into about 5.”

“Yes, yes, that’s fine,” Nanami impatiently huffs. “Just keep me informed.” Without a goodbye, he hangs up and tosses the phone on the ground. “Now back to you,” he growls. He takes your hips and pounds into you with the force of a thousand men, wrecking you on his cock. “Don’t run from it now, brat. You were so desperate to fuck yourself on it minutes before.”

Your tits swing beneath you and your ass claps against him every time he thrusts, creating a symphony of sounds mingling with your desperate whines and the squelching of your wet pussy being fucked by his cock. You can’t take it anymore. Your body is wet with sweat and your knees are buckling, tired from this and desperate for rest, just as your pussy is desperate to cum. “K-Kento!” you whine. “Keni, I’m so close! I need to cum!”

And like an asshole, Nanami slows down, purposely rolling his hips in a way that is agonizing given that he isn’t moving any quicker. “Prove it,” he demands. “Make me make you cum. Beg for it, brat.”

The slower he gets, the crazier you become until you’re pleading for him to just make you cum. “Please make me cum, sir,” you sob in desperation. “Make me cream all over your cock! Please, I need it! Your little brat needs to cum on that dick and have you fill her up.”

You turn to face him, peering up at him through thick lashes and big, brown eyes that have Nanami wanting to nut all over you just so everyone can know you are his now. “Please, Keni,” you whisper. “Gimme that dick. Gimme that cum. Your little office sluts needs it so much.”

That does it for Nanami. He speeds up immediately, pounding your wet pussy into his desk until neither one of you are quiet and both of you are soon tumbling over the edge. “Fuck!” he groans. “I’m gonna cum! I can’t stop!”

Your moans are signs of encouragement to cum deep inside of you and he does so. With a primal grunt of your first name, he pours his cum inside of your aching, twitching pussy. You cum right with him, your walls gripping onto him tighter than a vice as your body tenses. With a loud moan, you cum all over his dick, making his balls drip with your cream because there is so much of it. You can feel him drip down your thighs, staining your pretty nylon stockings. You can’t even recover from the orgasm yet. Nanami quickly pulls his semi-hard cock out of you, emitting a weak moan from the emptiness you feel.

“Not done yet,” he snarls. He pumps his cock, wet with your and his cum, hard and fast, his handsome face red with a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Turn the fuck around and show me that face. Stick out your tongue.” You do as he says, though wobbly and soaked with sweat and cum.

You get on your knees and look up at him, admiring his God-like body. You then open your mouth, sticking out your pink tongue, hot, needy pants leaving your lips the more he pumps his cock against your lips. “Gonna paint this pretty face,” he moans. “Gonna make you wish you listened to me.”

You watch his toned body tense and writhe as he finally cums again, shooting ropes of cum into your mouth and onto your face, destroying your makeup. You gasp as each warm drop hits your skin, coating you in all of his sticky nut. You feel used. Owned.

Nanami staggers away from you, panting heavily, his toned body soaked in sweat. He swipes his blonde strands from his flushed forehead, still coming down from his high. He then looks down at you with his cum dripping down your face, your pretty interview outfit ruined, and your braids askew. “Consider yourself hired,” he says, a rasp in his voice.

You giggle at his words despite his cum beginning to drip over your eyes. You shut them, not wanting to go blind. “Shit, I needed that,” Nanami sighs. You weakly moan, bringing him back to reality. “Shit, hang on a sec,” he says, panicking slightly as the cum begins to drip lower and lower down to your breasts. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” You hear him walk around you to his desk before returning with some tissues.

He carefully dabs at your face, cleaning you up. “Sorry about your makeup, honey,” he says. “It’s all over these tissues now.” He goes down to your chest, cleaning between your breasts and neck. Finally, he finishes. “There now. All clean.” You open your eyes to stare into his, feeling like you’re wandering through a deep, wild wilderness in those green orbs. “Let’s get these off of you,” he says, moving behind you to untie your wrists.

When you’re finally free, you twist your wrists around and wiggle your fingers, getting the blood flowing back through your bones. “So how do you feel?” he softly asks. You take a moment to assess yourself. Though your body aches, your throat is raw, and your pussy is feeling sore, you feel oh-so good. It’s so hard to explain. To be used up by him has made you feel better than you have in months. “I-I feel…good,” you decide. “Better than good. I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard before. Thank God for your soundproof walls.”

A slight blush paints Nanami’s face. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it’s so endearing and makes you wanna make him cum over and over again. “So I did okay?” he sheepishly asks.

You wrap your arms around him, “Baby, you did more than okay,” you giggle, pecking his lips. “But you always do…but I’d be lying if I said that seeing your Dom side isn’t a turn-on.” Nanami beams at you, happy that he could make your dreams come true. “I��m glad you enjoyed it,” he chuckles. “We’ll have to make these lunch visits more of a frequent thing for us. Including the role-play.”

You giggle in agreement and take his hands, allowing him to help you stand on your wobbly feet and weak knees. He then begins to fix his pants and adjust himself, putting his cock back in his briefs while you pull up your panties over your twitching, soaked pussy. “Oh, which reminds me!” you chirp. “The sandwich rolls are still downstairs in the employee fridge. I left them there in case our meeting got, um…lengthy.”

Nanami smirks and curls his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Such a smart and sexy girl I’ve got,” he coos. “How was I so lucky to end up with you?” You place your hands on his bare chest, feeling his heart beat against your palms. “Guess it was just fate,” you reply, hopelessly in love with the man standing before you. Nanami smiles, silently agreeing with your statement.

You then part and continue to get dressed, adjusting your clothes as to not make any of the employees aware that you two fucked in their boss’s office just now. “And you’re sure that Maki and Mai don’t suspect a thing?” you curiously ask as you fix your blouse, pouting at the two buttons that popped off.

Nanami looks at you as he fixes his button-up, only fixing the first button before moving toward you. “No one knows I’m even dating anyone, Y/N,” he assures you with a kiss to your jawline. “I barely tell my team anything about what goes on outside this building. Don’t worry, no one knows that we’re–“

“Fucking!” Mai screams from outside the door, scaring the shit out of you. “They’re totally fucking, Maki! I told you!”

“Mai, get away from the door!” Maki criticizes her sister. “That’s an invasion of privacy!”

You turn to Nanami and beg him with your eyes to kill you if you don’t die of embarrassment first. He takes one look at the door before turning to you, his hands on his narrow hips. “Well, guess I’ll be looking for another assistant,” he sighs. “And a soundproofed door.”

THE END.

#smutty smut #black fanfic writer #my works #black coded reader #my fic shit #black writers #jjk smut #daddy nanami #nanami kento #nanami x black!reader #nanami x fem!reader #nanami smut

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vagabond-umlaut · 19 days

Text

synchronise 2.0

On one end of the line, you've sunny days, mild breezes and not one thing to worry over. On the other end, there are only moonless nights, foul gales and one too many decisions– made and unmade– to repent for. And in the middle of this line segment, is you—

The only means by which the scales can be re-balanced. The equilibrium lost can be re-discovered. The wheels of life thrown off-kilter can be re-synchronised.

[Long story short: Time can be a funny little bitch— Good thing, you know how to be funnier than time itself!]

gojo satoru x fem!reader; canon divergence; time travel fix-it; the story begins here... freaking finallyyy 🤗🤗; tw: food mentions and mild *friendly* violence

prev chapter // synchronise masterlist // THE masterlist

chapter two: 23/3/2005

Working in a coffee shop sucks.

Sure, there are many nice things about the job: free coffee, yummy brownies, upbeat music, lenient managers and a pretty good pay— Still, you deem it to be the worst of the worst— Many, many thanks to the white-haired, shades-wearing abomination across the counter.

You decide not to hold back your grimace when he grins.

"You're looking very cute today, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know. I've got a mirror in my room," You retort, trying to wring and squeeze every bit of your exhaustion– exasperation– into the sigh ensuing, "Now, can you tell me your order quickly? People are getting late because of you."

"Oh, let them be," The boy waves your concerns away with an uncaring chuckle, "Surely, none of them is as important, or as generous, a customer as me— are they, candy?"

No, they aren't.

Neither the university student, nor the mother of those triplets, nor the salaryman, nor the elderly couple at the end of the queue: None of them buy as much as this boy does, yet– given your math is correct [it always is]– their collective purchases amount to more than the cost of whatever new solution of sucrose and caffeine he comes up with each new day...

Your teeth clack against each other as you peer up, eyes narrowing into slits, "Look, this is the last time I'm asking you. Tell me your bloody orders and step away, or–"

A cold palm over yours startles you into a sudden still.

And your hand moves before your brain can even grasp what the hell just happened– or directs, what will happen.

---

"You're not going to say sorry."

You should apologise to Gojo. You know you must do that.

Both of you have shared far too many casual touches for you to react this way– for you to twist his wrist then punch his face– at the mere feel of his palm on yours— Still, you choose to keep your mouth shut, willing your mind to focus only on the trash you've been tasked to take out.

A task seeming impossible now, thanks to the blinding reservoir of cursed energy trailing behind you from the time you were asked to leave the billing counter... Insistent, persistent, terribly obstinate— You huff a quiet groan when two familiar footsteps sound across the kitchen, following even into the dark alleyway behind the shop.

He calls your name. It sounds somewhat desperate– or maybe that's just your wishful thinking. Maybe you should stop watching those stupid, unrealistic romance movies— "So, you've decided you won't apologise, huh?"

"No," You reply, terse and firm, stopping but without throwing a glance backwards, "Why must I say sorry for your piss-poor blocking abilities, hm? Go improve your skills instead of bugging me at my part-time job... Just go, Sato– H-hey! W-what—"

The boy's reaction shouldn't shock you.

No, really. It shouldn't. You ought to be more used to the phenomenon named 'Gojo Satoru' by now, after twelve long years of close friendship with him... So sad, all that time together does nothing to stop your squeak of surprise when he wraps an arm round your midsection then snatches the bag of rubbish, effortlessly throwing it into the bin more than a few feet away.

Your muscles instantly grow tense, readying to fight to be free— only to relax when you hear your name. Spoken so softly... so carefully... Almost as if you aren't some furious animal baring its canines; almost as if you're some fragile glass figurine.

You don't like it, but can't really bring yourself to hate it either. Not when Gojo's voice sounds so worried when he asks, "Skipped your breakfast, mochi?"

"No." You return a sharp shake of your head.

Making you sit on an empty cardboard box by the wall, he crouches down before you. And asks, "Got yelled at by someone in your family, then?"

"No." You shake your head again, albeit with lesser edge this time. Confusion pushes your brows into a deep furrow, your mouth into a sour frown. "Why are you asking me these, Satoru? What the hell is wrong with you?"

The addressed's features break from their state of extreme focus, to become one of extreme hurt, before reverting to their state of extreme focus. Gojo removes his glasses, the shine of his blue eyes increasing manifold as they travel over your form, finally settling on your face.

Absolutely hating the tingles now dancing in your chest, you watch the boy exhale a sigh.

A very long, very tired sigh.

"There's nothing wrong with me, candy... There's something really wrong with you— You've been snappish and rude since today morning. And don't ev–" He falls silent, features scrunching up for a beat before lighting up in a moment of pure happy realisation. Too happy realisation, you think, watching the mile-wide grin on his face.

"You're sad because I'll be moving away next month and you've been pushing me away because you're sad— Isn't that right, candy? Isn't that right? Right? Right???"

Probably. Possibly. Almost certainly–

You lean back into the wall, schooling your face into one pretty unbothered.

After all... It won't do now if you confess to him all your fears and concerns. It won't do ever if you confess to him all your fears and concerns...

"You're not leaving for Jujutsu High in a month, idiot," You say, sternly ignoring the dull ache the thought makes in your heart, "You're leaving in less than a week. Auntie called today morni— 'Toru, no!"

Yanking the phone from his hand, you flip it shut and stuff it into your pocket. Then glare when you find Gojo reaching towards it. Bright beam now nowhere to be seen, the boy glares back and huffing, gets up to plop down onto the box beside yours.

You stare at the marks on your fingers for a while, before looping an arm round his shoulders— Shoulders, you never realised until this moment, had grown so broad... Whatever—

"Please don't make a fuss over this, 'Toru," You murmur, squeezing his arm lightly, "First off, the higher-ups will scold you terribly: They are hell-bent on making you go away from your home to under their shadows as soon as possible— And second–"

You lift his chin to make him look you in the eye. Azure pools of power, prestige and now upset, blinking back at you, bare and free of any and all covering.

"They'll give me hell because I told you this: I am not supposed to tell you this— something to do with shocking you then kidnapping you away while you're numb from the shock, I guess..." You trail off for a bit, before chuckling, "Those old geezers are so dumb, right?"

Gojo returns a weak nod and an even weaker "Heh!"— And you think, this is it.

This. Is. It.

Your last conversation with your best friend in the foreseeable future... Or probably ever.

That happened in the dirty narrow alleyway behind a mill-of-the-run coffee shop.

Where neither of you laughed. Or joked. Or did anything, anything remotely happy...

You don't really think– not even once– before you wrap your arms round Gojo's waist and push your face into his arm. It takes less than a beat for the boy to shift his body, and you, so that you're no longer trapping him in a weird sideways hug, rather hugging him properly. His fingers comb through your hair: so firm, so sure. Much like the suggestion reaching you next.

"Why don't we both run away to Paris, candy? We can escape from all this mess then."

"Wha–" You exclaim, incredulity seeping into your huffed chortle as you pull away. [It doesn't sound bad, a tiny voice in your brain whispers. Not bad at all– You strangle that stupid voice...] Hope shines in Gojo's eyes as he peers down at you. You force your lips down into a flat line.

"You're not Romeo, 'Toru; and sure, I'm pretty but I don't wanna end up dead like Juliet." You say, patting his cheeks, letting your tone grow a tad soft on receiving a pout. "You really need to stop watching romance movies, y'know... That teeny-tiny brain inside your huge skull is rotting– I can get the stench even– Ow, you ass!"

Gojo's lips quirk up slightly when you shove him back– but it's gone before it can form fully.

He shifts even closer to you, nearly engulfing your figure in the chill of his bigger frame. "Not every love story has to end that way, candy."

"Ours is not even a love story to begin with, Satoru," You scoff, noticing yet opting to ignore the sudden tensing of his posture, "And considering we do run away to Paris, like you suggested— What then, hm? Where will we stay? What will we eat? From where the hell are we going to get the money we need? Most importantly, how long will we keep running, Satoru?"

Screwing your eyes shut, you inhale then exhale, just the way your mom taught you to do when your emotions seem to be getting a bit out of hand— Opening your eyes, you find Gojo staring at you... rather weirdly.

You let your eyes fall to the fading colors of your shoes.

Resuming as you do, "What I'm trying to say is: we're teenagers, 'Toru. Whatever plan we make is bound to be stupid– more like, doomed to be stupid. Let's just go with the flow now. When we are older, we will be much smarter, stronger, scarier: We can do whatever we want then, and no one will dare to stop us. We can even run away to Paris, if that's what you want— Yeah?"

Looking back up, you find the boy's features not too far from that weird state... Until they are, and you feel as if you're staring straight at the sun. Or maybe that's just his cursed energy flaring up... Ugh, why is he such a powerhouse–

Grinning widely, Gojo clasps your hands in his. "Wanna do a Binding Vow, sweetness?"

No. Hell no. Never ever—

You know you must refuse. You must shut him up before his foolish tendencies take him way too far— take you with him way too far. Still, you do very little to quieten that pleased hum in your mind, when you register just how much he wishes to stay associated with you...

"A pinky promise sounds cuter, right?" You suggest with a smile– One that grows wider when you receive an eager nod in answer. You, however, curl your hand into a fist when he moves to lock his little finger with yours.

Grinning when he dissolves into whining, "Heyyy... what's the problem now, candy?"

"There isn't any problem, 'Toru. Just few conditions," You correct with a cheeky lilt to your tone, "Like, we ought to text each other minimum once a day, call each other minimum once a week, meet each other minimum once a month– And, last but not the least," You drop your volume to a value so low that only the two of you can hear.

"We must not forget each other, no matter what."

Gojo's frown melts away into something graver— before his beam's back in every bit of its glory.

You watch as he slowly pries your fist open, intertwining his little finger with yours and saying, "I agree. Pinky promise to do whatever you said, sweetness."

"I too pinky promise to do everything you said, 'Toru," You don't waste a beat in echoing his dedication in your words. The boy's grin grows bigger, reminding you yet again of the midday sun– Not the scorching one in summer, though! His resembles the gentle one of winters...

A sudden beep! from your phone jolts you out of your thoughts– And you jolt Gojo out of his seat next to you, scowling playfully as you do.

"Now off you go, my sucrose-loving fiend-for-a-friend," You rise as well, pushing him towards the back door to the kitchen, "Go, give your orders and get us a nice table; preferably, one closest to the AC. I'll finish my chores here and join you in a bit."

"Promise?" The boy asks with a pensive pout, just outside the building. You reach up to flick him– kind of– on the forehead, laughing fondly. "Yeah, you idiot. Now, go! I'm getting late!"

"Geez... okay, okay," Gojo exclaims back, laughing. And with that, plus a last-moment ruffling of your hair by him, he walks back into the shop. Leaving you to the quiet of your mind, the latter now much lighter, after your much-needed [yet much-avoided] conversation with him—

Too bad, you were never meant to relish the sound of silence.

No sooner do you step one foot towards the garbage bins than you feel the world before you tilt by a few degrees, for longer than a few measly seconds— Until everything is right again.

Or maybe nothing is... Nothing will ever quite be...

Not when you find yourself on a fine Wednesday morning, face-to-face with your carbon-copy— Except she isn't really so: She seems much older, much thinner, much sadder than the girl you saw in your mirror today...

It isn't really your fault, you think, when you end up blurting out, "Oh my God... So, I'm not my parents' only daugher, am I?"

next chapter

loserboy x girlboss → got to be my fave dynamic of all time [bonus points if both r somewht weird & stupid 😂😂]

header from pinterest; dividers by @benkeibear; jjk isn't mine

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #gojo angst #jjk angst #kit posts 📝

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moxleys-whore · 7 months

Text

Back Pain

Warnings: none

Summary: Darby struggles painting his face due to back pain. His friend offers help which leads to confessions

He could do it. He always did it himself. Standing in front of the mirror in his locker room, paint brush in hand, face half painted white. The issue however, lied in the standing part. Darby had to bend slightly to be able to paint his face comfortably, but comfort was long gone. Replaced by pain from straining his back. Lower back muscles on fire, and the kinisio tape did nothing to help. Darby was contemplating giving up completely when a knock at his locker room door rang through the silent room.

"Come in", he calls out before hearing the door creak open.

"Hey darbs, you think you help me-", the voice of Darbys friend is cut off. Darby turns to give Y/N a questioning look before speaking.

"What?"

"Dude, you look like shit. Are you even cleared to wrestle tonight?" Of course they could tell something was wrong, they always could.

"Yeah I'm fine. My back just hurts like a bitch."

"Do you need some help? I can paint your face for you if you want."

Darby hesitates before answering, debating his options. On one hand, he really did need help and Y/N was the only other person who knew how to paint his face. On the other hand however, Darby wasn't sure he could be that close to them without looking or acting like a school girl with a crush. But maybe if he let them close, he could shoot his shot. Maybe. If he didn't embarrass himself completely.

"Would you? I could use some help."

Y/N smiles softly at him before walking over to the counter and grabbing the brush from Darby. Looking around the room to try and find someplace for the both of them to sit. Eyes landing on a fold up chair and the couch on the opposite wall. Setting the brush down before grabbing the chair, setting it in front of the couch, walking back to the counter and grabbing all the painting supplies.

"Sit on the chair."

Darby follows the order, sitting down on the chair. Y/N sits on the sofa facing him. They've been this close before, he just needed to breath and get his mind out of the gutter. Try to at least, it was hard to do when their knee was between his legs, just barely a breath away from his crotch. The urge to move his his closer almost won, however Darby remained composed and still.

Y/N picked up the previous brush, unaware of the thoughts Darby was fighting off. They grabbed his face softly, ignoring the soft sigh Darby let out when their hand cupped his jaw and moved his head down. A painful expression crossed Darbys face and they whispered a soft sorry. Dipping the brush in white, they begin to paint the man's face. His eyes close, content but still in pain. The angle at which he was bending still caused him pain, but he could hardly focus on it when they were touching him. Their hand cupping his jaw softly, he was fighting the urge to lean into it.

Y/N could see he was still in discomfort, setting the brush down to let the white paint dry. Knowing that he would hurt more in the next couple of minutes from having to remain still so they could add the black paint. It upset them to see Darby in pain, only wanting to take it away so he could be comfortable. The awkward angle wasn't helping his back, but where else could he sit that would work. An idea popped into their head.

"Come here."

Darby gives his temporary artist a questioning look at their demand.

"What? I'm right here."

"Do you trust me?"

Darby nods in response. Not sure what to make of the situation.

Y/N reaches out, both hands meeting Darbys thighs. He freezes, the contact shooting sparks through his body. He stands, Y/Ns hands pull him forward till his knees meet the sofa. They sit back fully before pulling Darby forward, causing him to fall into their lap. Darbys face flushes as he realizes the new position he's been put into, he remains hovering over their lap, scared to sit. That is, until they grab him waist and push him down. One of their arms wraps around his midsection, keeping him locked in, while the other picks up a paint brush.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm painting your face."

"You know what I meant." Darby unintentionally pouts.

"Just relax, that chair looked uncomfortable on your back."

Darby goes silent, closing his eyes and relishing in the touch he secretly craved. The hand around his waist moves, shifting to massage and rub at darbys lower back instead.

"Oh fuck." Darby all but falls forward, his hands coming to grab at the person below him. Y/N removes their hand quickly.

"Shit I'm sorry, are you okay?"

"Don't stop. Please don't stop."

His face is hot, he all but whimpered at his crush. Barely holding back a whine when their hand connects with his back once more. Y/N sets the paint brush down, more focused on the man in their lap now. Their now free hand coming to rest on his thigh.

The hand on his thigh causes a reaction in his body, Darby sighs, his breathing quickening. His body gives in, falling forward, his face meeting the shoulder of Y/N. Y/N who took notice of his reaction, suprised but not opposed, leans forward to press a soft kiss to the man's shoulder, hearing him inhale sharply.

The two sit like that for more than a friendly amount of time. Darby, with his face buried in Y/Ns neck, arms now throw around their shoulders. Y/N still massaging Darbys back, occasionally pressing soft kisses to his shoulder. No words are exchanged, instead choosing to enjoy the moment the two had wished for, for months. A knock on the door breaks the comfortable silence.

"Darby, you're on in 15."

Grumbling softly, Darby lifts his head before thanking the pa. His eyes meet Y/Ns, feeling brave, he leans in and softly kisses them. Their hands cup his face as they kiss back, pulling away after a few seconds, just to lean in and peck his lips a few more times.

"I've wanted to do that for so long."

"Me too." Y/N smiles softly at the man, laughing when they see the smeared paint on his lips. Picking up a paint brush and fixing it quickly.

"Much better, now go get warmed up for your match. And when you're done come find me, we need to talk."

"Yeah I guess we do. Thank you by the way."

One thing was for sure, his back felt much better.

#aew x reader #aew headcannon #darby allin #darby allin imagine #darby allin x reader

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muzicgenerator · 8 months

Note

pls could u do a tom kaulitz angst? like he’s arguing w reader and mentions something he knows the reader doesn’t like bringing up, and he has to make it up to her, then it can turn into fluff <3

yep here it is!!

hope u like it and sorry for late reply T_T

(BRO OHHH MY GOD THE ORIGINAL STORYLINE DIDNT SAVE 😭😭😭 so i just made a new one which is this one AGHHH SO MAD RN btw i didnt proof read the entire thing)

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

Atonement

✮

Pairing: Tom Kaulitz x Reader

Genre: a bit Angsty, Fluff

Warnings: None

Request Status: closed :(

✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Last Night on Earth : Green Day

Playful bantering was one of the things you and Tom would do everyday in your relationship.

Sure, serious arguments would rise up which a simple kiss and genuine apology would quickly fix.

However those two won't do it right now.

"The hell do you mean I have trust issues?!"

"What?! It's true! Your ex cheated on you so you're scared to trust me; It's not like I'm gonna do what that guy did!"

Definitely, Tom shouldn't have brought your ex up who has no relation to this quarrel.

He knew how much of a prick he was to you and how he treated you; he even witnessed how devastated you were when you once came to him to seek comfort when you found out for the second time he had been cheating.

And he knew damn well you never wanna hear about the jerk ever again.

However, you did appreciate him admitting he wouldn't repeat the history you had with your past lover.

"The fuck, Tom? That bitch has no connection whatsoever about what we're fighting about right now.

And I saw the way you looked at her! It's like, if I didn't interrupt you both would've shared spits by then." enraged by what he said; you raised your voice to match his volume - which was unlike you since you're the composed one out of you two during serious arguments.

"Sorry but he kinda does! This issue you're having surely started with him. I remember the way you wasted your snot and tears on him and I dried it off.

And please stop being overdramatic, she's just a fan and I wanted to make sure she's happy. Not only with her; I mean with everyone of them!"

Tom tried hard to defend himself instead of admitting his wrongdoing.

"You are such an ass for bringing that shit up again when you know damn well your ass had issues too that I helped you get over with and all I've ever done was try my greatest to understand and care for you!

All I ever wanted was for you to stop looking at other people and look at me.. Am I asking for too much?" your voice whispered in offence and slightly croaked which made you resent yourself more.

Tom realized with wide eyes of what he had done,

"No, no of course not ____. No, look- I'm really sorry for what I said, I really am and-"

"Just shut the hell up, Tom. Save it, I don't wanna hear it right now." you harshly brushed past him to storm off to your apartment's bedroom in fear of hot tears falling down to your cheeks.

He sighed; ashamed in himself. Tom truly regrets letting those harsh and unnecessary words slip his blunt mouth. He knew he was better than this - definitely, he should control his mouth more and think about what he should say carefully during times like this.

The night spent alone in the bed you'd always share with Tom felt cruel.

Not for the reason he's not by your side; it's rather the fact that you're in bed without properly making up with him since you'd always forgive one another the same day.

A big part of you wanted to forgive him - believe that he truly didn't mean what he told you and only accidentally slipped because of the heat in the moment; that we all say things we don't mean when we're mad, and that he really wouldn't stab you on the back with a woman like your past lover did.

The smaller part of you scolded for being such an idiot; for believing a man would stay loyal - that you should call it off before he could do any further damage.

Honestly, you felt devastated just thinking about not being with him; so you eventually came into terms with yourself that the fire will settle down and you'll forgive him and he'll do better.

Don't know when it'll die down but it will. Hopefully soon.

Some relationships are worth fighting for, like you have with Tom.

Hence you will stay strong and prepare for many wars.

But tonight; you wanted and allowed yourself to fall asleep being upset and disappointed at Tom.

You'll let tomorrow do its thing.

✮✮✮

It was the next day and the back of your head was pounding alongside a stiff neck.

You sat up and glanced at the digital clock placed on your night table that read 11:37 AM.

After stretching your limbs out while reminiscing the night before; you decided it's time to wash your face and start making lunch for yourself.

When you turned the knob and pushed it open; you were greeted with the aroma of your favourite dish; one that was always served to you as a child when you still lived with your family - one that you shared its recipe and process with your lover.

"Tom?" you asked in disbelief. You were certain he had left since your ears picked up the sound of the front door being pushed open then close in the middle of the night.

Certainty assured your mind that you'd rather not see his face first thing in the morning after such a night. Boy, were you wrong.

Your lover turned his head quickly; unaware of your presence since he's so caught up finishing, as well as perfecting the dish.

"Oh- love, you're awake. I um.. made breakfast but you didn't get up and it's uh, it's almost time for lunch so I thought I'd make your favourite." he stumbled over his words; which is bizarre.

"The pancakes are on the table, you can eat them later as a snack."

You nodded your head with a tight lipped smile and mumbled a thanks before heading to the bathroom.

Once the door had shut; you quickly drowned your face with water to remove the image of Tom cooking without a shirt on.

It's not like it's the first time you've seen him like that; but the way you're reacting right now is how you feel when you catch him in these types of situations - preferably without the post-fight shit going.

After peeing, washing your hands, brushing your teeth washing and drying your face, and doing your skin care - you forced yourself to go back outside for you cannot stay in the bathroom forever.

When you opened and closed the baby blue painted door; your eyes wandered off to the table and drooled at the sight of the newly cooked meal.

Tom patted the seat beside him with a smile; gesturing you to sit beside him.

You had no choice but to join him for lunch; after all, you are starving.

Instead of giving in to his request, you sat in front of him.

Instead of painting a frown on his lips; he still kept his genuinely proud smile (from cooking such a delicious dish) and handed you your plate and utensils - to which you accepted.

"Let's eat?" Tom asked.

"I don't wanna eat without talking about last night." you said with a straight face.

The man in front of you softly breathed a sigh,

"You're right." he agreed with a nod

"I'll start by saying I'm really sorry, and I didn't mean what I said. I just want you to know I would never even dare to think about betraying you like that, and I was an ass for what I did." Tom seemed to look everywhere but your eyes.

He couldn't bring himself to look at your mesmerizing hues for he was certain his shredded heart would be turned into dust.

"I don't even know why I said those things, I- I know this sounds like bullshit but I swear I really don't mean those things and you're the only person who I have my eyes on.

Please give me another chance I- I'll be better now, promise!" he trailed off and fearfully continued;

"But y'know if uh.. if you don't and wanna call it o-"

"Shut up Tom we're not breaking up." you sighed

"I know you said those to defend what you did, and it slipped out because of the heat of the moment. We all say shit we don't mean when mad, I understand. But what I don't understand is why you'd caress her cheek and look into her eyes like that?" your eyes examined his facial expressions and only saw genuine regret on his face. You hoped he'd look at your eyes and tell you directly why.

Hence, before his ready mouth started to explain; you tell him, "Tom, look into my eyes, please."

You caught the way the ball of his throat bopped up and down; swallowing his saliva. His eyes slowly trailed up from the table to your chest, neck, chin, nose, then eyes.

"She said she'd been a fan since the very beginning of the band's debut. She loved all us a lot, especially me. I asked her if meeting us was a dream come true, she said yeah, and we talked a bit more. Then she asked me to touch her face because she really couldn't believe that it was all happening, which I did."

Tom would look away from the two windows of your soul for a second before meeting again.

He was replied with silence; which kind of scared him.

"____? Please say something."

"For God's sake Tom, why didn't you just start with that last night when I brought it up?"

Tom rapidly blinked once, twice, thrice, then for the fourth time. "... I must've forgot to bring it up because I was so caught up in the moment."

You laughed; a true one, "You mean too focused into bringing my ex up?"

He was speechless by how just a second ago you were dead ass serious, and now crying laughing at what you said.

"Sorry, I'm done laughing now." you giggled before continuing, "Fine, I'll forgive you if you tell me where you went last night."

"I went back to my apartment and did some thinking how to make it up to you and slept there. I went out really early to buy groceries so i can cook your favourite food here."

It was your turn to be speechless.

"...You seriously did that?" you asked with doubt in your voice.

"Yeah, I mean the proof is on the table." Tom chuckled.

You said nothing and finally dug into the 5 star looking meal, soon your lover did as well.

"Sooo, are we good?" Tom hopefully asked after sipping his water from the cylinder glass.

"I guess so." you blessed him with a small smile to which he returned with a big one.

Conversation flowed naturally between you as you ate the savoury food.

If Tom didn't make it as a famous guitarist, he'd definitely be a winner in Hell's Kitchen.

After Tom cleaned put the dishes to the sink; you insisted to wash it since he cooked. He declined numerous times but it wasn't going anywhere since you're more stubborn than him.

"All right, fine. Only if you let me hug you from behind." Tom made a deal.

"Pshh, why're you asking as if you don't do that whenever I do shit in the kitchen?"

Tom rolled his eyes with a smirk drawn on his lips as a reply and proceeded to snake his large hands to your waist; then pressing his chest to your back and resting his chin on the crown of your head.

Nothing could be heard other than the clanking of pans, plates, and utensils, along with the flow of the running water from the faucet.

The comfortable verbal silence and physical contact was very much needed after a fight.

After drying your hands with a cloth; you walked towards the couch and sat with your boyfriend still embracing you from behind.

"What do you wanna watch?" you turned your head to the side to look up at his face.

"Whatever you want, I'm fine with anything." Tom looked down to your eyes, then lips.

Slowly, he leaned his fave closer to yours so he could taste your lips.

Once contact had been made; you couldn't help but melt even more to his touch and wrap your arms around his neck - and he couldn't help but deepen the kiss and caress your waist and back.

Soon enough, the passionate kiss had come to an end to catch their breaths.

"I love you so much. You know that, right?" Tom stared into her hues as the tip of their noses touched.

You slowly nodded and brought your hands up to his hollow cheeks, "I love you more." you said before pulling his face closer to kiss each other's lips once again.

Tom mumbled in-between the kisses, "I love you the most, sweetheart." before deepening it. His tongue soon entered your mouth and both your hands rubbed and caressed your bodies.

The hot post-fight make out session would last as long as half the length of the movie you played in the middle of the session; playing Atonement for the millionth time from your entire life.

After pulling your mouths away due to your jaws hurting; you slept and cuddled like babies.

Feeling the safest in each other's arms.

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