#and i could talk about it for a long time
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Care For You!
Synopsis. “Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer” they say, right? But you don’t think they meant close enough to be in their bed.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, enemies to lovers, hate/ angry séx, spítting, light exhíbitionism (Nanami’s), mentions of kníves (Sukuna’s and Geto’s), chokíng, degradatíon, cúmplay, squírting, overstím, jealousy (Toji’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.7k
A/N. Woahhh I got carried away and this got long, HAHAH.
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - F*ck the divorce! (And you)
“What were you sayin’, doll?”
Of course, the only response Toji gets is a wet, pathetic little murmur of something - maybe a curse, probably a plea for more more more-
Something that has his swollen cock twitching so wildly inside your snug cunt - barley even halfway in but still stretched so obscenely around him. Something that had him letting out a low chuckle at how fucked-out his poor wife already sounds.
“What? Can’t talk anymore?” He coos, relishing in the way your nails rake furiously down his sculpted back in reply - a warning. “Drunk on m’cock already?”
But Toji doesn’t stop, not even close. Only slamming faster, deeper into your snug cunt, quick, maddening grinds just to squeeze inside. “How cute. And you were so keen to run your mouth about divorce earlier, you little bitch.”
Fuck.
And then you spit. Hitting right there on the edge of Toji’s pissed off smirk, splattering against that little scar you loved and hated so much.
As if that wasn’t enough insult to injury, your mouth is moving so stupidly before your mind. Ignoring how your pussy was desperately sucking his throbbing cock to look him right in the eyes. Babbling out a broken, yet determined, “Fuck you.”
At this, Toji has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh. More to infuriate you than anything as he presses such a deceivingly tender little peck on your mouth. And you know it’s on purpose the way he lets your saliva smear all over both your lips.
“No.” He whispers against your lips, amused, like a little confession. “I’m fucking you.”
God, and it works. You’re all but seething. Fighting the urge to smack his pretty face as he drags his aching cock all against your plushy walls. Back, back, back till his weeping tip was just kissing your sloppy entrance. “And m’gonna fuck all thoughts of that divorce right outta ya, doll.”
It’s all that’s said before Toji’s finally bottoming out in one, harsh thrust. Rough enough that you’re sure it’ll leave marks - his heavy balls on your ass, your ankles on his back.
Not even giving you the time to adjust - why would he? He’s got his pretty wife all splayed out and needy for him, what more could he wait for? Ramming his swollen cock into you like he hated you. Like he hated all thoughts of that stupid little idea you brought up, and was well and fully intent on fucking it out of you.
And if that wasn’t enough, he’s wrestling you to face him. Squeezing your cheeks together into such an embarrassing little pout that forces you to look into his darkened eyes. “Open that fucking mouth.”
You just hated how your jaw drops slack as if on instinct. Hated how you can do nothing but moan deliriously as he spits right into your open mouth. Hated the way your eyes roll to the back of your head, plushy walls squeezing him to insanity till you can feel the rapid bump! bump! bump! of his prominent veins. Messy.
“I’m the only one that gets to do this.”
God, it was too much for him too.
“Think y’can divorce me?” He’s rutting into you so animalistically, hips stuttering and sloppy. Like he couldn’t decide between hitting that sweet spot he knew so well and abusing your poor cervix. “Think anyone else can make you get off this good?”
“I- Hngh- fuck fuck fuck, Toji-”
“Answer me.” he gasps, strained. Angry. Desperate. Breath hot against your face as he pulls and tugs on your lower lip - like a little punishment, as if his throbbing cock wasn’t enough. “Tell me. You think any other loser is gonna fuck you till they can shut up that bitchy mouth of yours?”
And God it was so maddening how he was right - how you knew no one could have you all breathless and cockdrunk like this.
But you couldn’t go down without a fight.
“M-maybe.” you spit, sounding a bit more whiny than you intended. “Maybe some other guy is gonna fuck me better, n’ have a hngh- b-bigger dick too.”
And Toji notices - of course, he does. Because he’s reaching down to toy with your swollen clit, pinching and rolling the sensitive nub between his fingers as if to say “Really?”
He knew you too well. Well enough that he’s only fucking you harder into the mattress, like it hurt to hear any nonsense of some other guy falling from your pretty lips. Like he was taking it out on your ravaged pussy, sliding in and out of your sloppy cunt with reckless abandon.
“Shut up.” he groans, glancing down at how sinfully you were milking the fucking soul out of him. Hips hitting yours so bruisingly with each word- “Shut up- shut up shut, you little slut.”
“Ngh- Toji. S’too much. Sh-shit.”
“Shut up and take it.” And you can’t escape his unforgiving thrusts even if you wanted to. “No one knows this cute cunt like this. You like this.” Unable to run away with the arm around your hip, the fingers relentless on your puffy clit. “Because this sloppy pussy is mine, I’m the only one fuckin’ her like this.” Teeth latching onto any inch of skin he could reach, rock-hard cock sliding in and out in and- Like he wanted you to stay. Needed you to stay.
“And m’gonna fuck you till there’s no divorce in that pretty lil’ mind.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Gentleman?
“You think you deserve respect?”
Whoever told you that Nanami was perfect - the epitome of a gentleman - was the biggest liar you’ve ever encountered. Because they’ve clearly never had to work together with that uptight, scrutinizing, overly-strict son of a-
“Yes, I fuckin’ deserve respect.” you spit, the words coming out a bit more breathless than you wanted. Nanami’s office desk cool against your cheek, ass grinding traitorously into his throbbing erection. “Not that you’d know anything about it.”
He’s leaning down to whisper hotly against your ear, “I do. But-” And oh Nanami’s gripping your waist like it was the only thing keeping his sanity tethered to him. Pulling your sloppy pussy closer to him. “-you really think you deserve respect even when you’re being such a slut f’me?”
And maybe you’re an idiot - maybe you’re a mastermind.
Because in one, fluid motion you’re gripping his silk tie to pull Nanami impossibly closer. That low, throaty groan going straight to your quivering cunt as you grit out, “Yes, sir.”
Several things happen at once - the first being that you learn that Nanami’s ties are soft. Comfortable, even, as he hastily pulls off the damn things, wrapping it around your wrists. Tight.
You gasp at the realization that you’re now bound and completely vulnerable, pinned to the desk by his weight. Exactly where he wanted you.
“This,” he huffs, amusement bleeding into his words. “-is more like it.”
God, you hated him. You hated his rubbing up against your back through that sinfully tight shirt as he pools your sweet juices on his fat head. You hated the way he was dragging it lazily, up and down up and down. Teasing. Calculated. Watching all your cute reactions.
Fuck, you needed him.
“Are you just fucking talk-”
You barely get to finish the sentence before he’s ramming his aching cock inside your sopping pussy. Not even moments later, as he fucks you into the desk. Like he was trying to break it. Break you.
Hips colliding with yours over and over and over, you were only thankful that these walls were sound-proofed. Because otherwise, the entire office building would be hearing all your delirious moans. Breath ragged, mind spinning, only babbling out, “Fuck fuck fuck- s’deep. Can feel you so- hngh- good-”
“Yeah? S’good.” Nanami huffs out a laugh at how perfect you were for him. Pussy sucking him up so well that it was impossible to tear his eyes from the sinful sight. “And you still expect me to treat you like a lady?”
Making you wish more and more that the people who always tittered in the coffee room about Nanami being the “perfect gentleman” could see this right now. How he was talking to you so fucking mean and splitting you apart on his cock even meaner.
“Hah- f-fuck you.” And the only thing you can do is pull uselessly at the restraint around your wrist, knowing it’s a pathetic attempt. As if to drive the point deeper, Nanami purposefully pulls you up by the tie, using it as leverage to bounce you back into his thrusts like some fucktoy - his favorite one, of course.
You yelp at the change in angle, his swollen cock dragging so dizzyingly against all the right spots. Pounding into you, deep. Disrespectful - like he promised.
“Fuck me?” he clicks his tongue and scoffs so uncharacteristically. Then again, Nanami was always out of character with you. “Last time I checked, I-” One, harsh thrust. “-was the one fucking you. Like a slut.”
“At least this ‘slut’,” it’s hard to speak with the way he was fucking pushing into your lungs. “Can do a better job than you.” You crane your neck to glare at him as best you could. “You call this fucking?”
Then it’s like something snapped. Several somethings, in fact.
Nanami’s tie, his sanity, you by the end of this.
And before you know it, you’re on your back, splayed out sinfully on top of the desk. Nanami’s heavy cock pulling out just to throw you around how he pleased, immediately burying back into your sloppy pussy like it killed him to stay apart.
“Little bitch. Always testin’ me.” he’s grunting, drawing urgent, frenzied little patterns on your clit - not even circles because for once in his life, Nanami was too impatient. Too depraved. “Always fuckin’ getting on my nerves with your smart mouth and-” Hips getting so filthy, a rough, maddening tandem. “Slutty lil’ skirts.”
Once he started, Nanami couldn’t stop - he couldn’t stop his movements, so desperate to get you off. And he couldn’t stop his words either.
“Wan’ed this so bad. So fucking bad.” Words slurring. Maddening - like a man possessed. “Cos’ you’re such a fucking bitch n’ I wanted to bend you over and shut you up at every meeting we had. Didn’t care for an audience.”
He’s milking himself on your dripping cunt with reckless abandon, groaning at the way you’re taking each slam of his hips so well. Bruising on your ass, your swollen clit, your mouth as Nanami hisses out little profanities into it. Like a mantra.
“Mmpf- fuck, K-Ken. S’too much oh my god. Feels so-.”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Hey there, Mr. Nanami. M’just here to confirm that the team meeting will be here in five?” A voice, unassuming from outside the door.
“Yeah. Jus’ come in then, we’ll be ready in five.” You don’t know what you’re reeling more from - the looming interruption or Nanami’s next words. Cock still unforgiving. Disrespectful. Turning to you as he whispers against your lips, “Better get done, you little slut. Before HR finds out why we have so many debriefs here.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - To kill? To ruin.
“So, you couldn’t kill me. Now what, pretty?”
Your eyes stay locked on the cult leader sat in front of you. The way his inky hair framed that relaxed smile - too relaxed. His arm bruising around your waist, tight to keep you from escaping. Long lashes fluttering so enticingly as he waited for your answer.
Your target.
Unfairly beautiful - even with the knife at his throat, his own just inches away from your neck.
And you don’t know if you’re even breathing - or if he is either. Waiting to see how one word could change everything. How you’d end up killing each other, a bloodbath. Or-
Or how you’d end up spread so shamefully on Geto’s tatami floors, legs dangling off his strong shoulders. Poor pussy so bloated with his cum already. Hands scrambling to grip onto the floor - his biceps - his hair - just anything to keep yourself from losing your fucking sanity while he fucks you like he’s lost his.
Over and over and- You’ve lost track of time now, it’s been hours, both of you barely lucid at this point.
“Awww, what happened? Shy?” he’s tutting mockingly in your ear, acting as if you’ve got the capability to form any coherent sentences right now. “N’ you were so feisty earlier.”
“F-fuck ah- you.” you manage to choke out, teary and barely coherent with the hand wrapped around your throat. Only growing tighter with each cute lil’ whine leaving your swollen lips.
“Ha! Guess you’re still feisty.” Geto lets out a breathy laugh, unsure where to look at - how you were staring up at him with such sultry, defiant eyes or the way your heavenly cunt was sucking him like anything but. Puffy folds bulging obscenely around him. So messy and wet, painted white with this cum. “Feisty enough to gimme another one?”
Hell, Geto doesn’t even know if he can cum again - but that sinful little pool of cum spreading on the floor makes some primal, raw part of himself think he just might will it out of himself. Or die trying.
Messy. So messy.
“D-die trying?” you repeat breathlessly, more to yourself than Geto. Oops- had he said that out loud?
Oh, Geto was having way too much fun with this. Way too much fun with how you were so overstimulated and fucked dumb. Watching as you wonder how you were the one supposed to assassinate him, but might just not make it out alive yourself.
“Mhm.” he grins, at how cockdrunk you were, squeezing your throat tighter. Blood roaring in your eyes, vision spotty now. “Die trying, or cum f’me first. Your choice.”
He’s fucking you so mean. So hard that you were sure the creases of the tatami mat would be there on your back even tomorrow. Geto’s warm cum dribbling down your legs, nothing but rough, lewd squelches from below. Sloppy and addicting.
“I- don’t-”
“I d-don’t.” he mocks your delirious little stammers. Biting down on your neck, hard. “Shut up.” Thrusts only getting sharper, more calculated - like it personally offended him you were even able to talk this much. Hand squeezing tighter and tighter- “Jus’ cum if you wanna breathe, pretty.”
“But I don’t think I hngh- can!” you sob, nails clawing at his wrist pathetically. Vision blanking, dripping pussy only sucking him more desperately.
And Geto really can’t help but spread your swollen folds apart with his thumb, watching the way his seed oozes out of your fluttering hole. A lewd ah! ah! ah! leaving your lips each time he fucks it deeper and deeper. Fingers barely grazing your throbbing clit, so sensitive that even that was too much.
Cunt so embarrassingly needy that it was almost difficult for Geto to move inside you, milking his cock too well. Too overstimulated. He didn’t care of course - it just made it all the more fun - but oh it made his dick twitch so wildly inside your gummy walls. Balls squeezing painfully as he snaps his hips faster. More purposeful.
Fuck. He’s strong.
“But-”
“Just shut up and cum.”
And then you can’t help it - you are.
Creaming all over Geto’s cock, his unforgiving unforgiving cock. Body moving before your mind as a hand shoots out to grab his pale neck. Dangerous. Wrapping so deliciously as you pull him down, nails digging into skin so hard it could draw blood.
You didn’t care if you did - would’ve enjoyed it even. Enjoyed it more as you kissed him, hard.
“Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you, I should kill you.” you wheeze into his open mouth. All tongue and tears, and thick, hot ropes of Geto’s cum. Painting your already-overfilled pussy white, like he’s cumming harder than he has his entire life. Like he hadn’t been pumping your poor cunt full of his seed all these past hours. “I should kill you.”
And you can only take it.
Only keen at the way his nails leave neat little crescents on your neck, breath coming in short gasps. Geto pushing all the air out of your lungs with each thrust. Each ram of his thick, relentless cock.
“Yeah. Kill me.” Smirking, voice shot and just dripping with such danger - one that didn’t bode well for your poor cunt. “But only if you aren’t able to cum f’me one more time.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - “You seriously like this?”
Those were the first words out of your mouth - bewildered ones, at that.
Because, sat on top of the fidgeting special grade, pinning him to the ground with your weight, the last thing you expected was to feel his achingly hard erection. Already so damp, and hot against your ass - drawing a sinful little hiss from Choso’s pretty lips as you grinded experimentally against it.
He liked this.
And you did, too.
And you certainly didn’t expect to find yourself mere moments later, panties just pushed to the side so you can be split apart on his aching cock. Hands gripping his chest, your hips rocking down against his like such a slut.
“H-hah- fuck fuck fuck, you’re so fucking messy, baby.” Choso lets out a guttural groan, jaw dropping into a soft little oh! at the heavenly sight of his cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt. In and out in and out in and-
Cunt clenching at how beautiful he was underneath you - cheeks flushed, dark hair undone, sticking to his forehead as Choso bucks his hips wildly to meet yours. Absolutely wrecked. “Yeah? Look who’s ngh- talking.” you smirk.
“F-fuck you.”
“Oh?” you taunt. “Last time I checked, I’m hah- the one riding you.”
At your words, he’s huffing softly - so different from how he fucking up into your ravaged cunt a jagged, sharp thrust. Eyes twinkling at the way he knocks all the air out of your lungs with the sheer stretch. Somehow, you have a distinct feeling that if this was his way to shut you up then you really didn’t mind.
“So what?” he spits. Fingers reaching across to roll against your throbbing clit, over and over in hasty little circles. “So what if you’re riding me like a cute lil’ whore? I’m the one oh fuck- messing up your insides.”
And then he’s bucking his wildly up into yours like he’s trying to prove something. Toned pelvis bruising on your own, breath ragged and you’re wondering whether Choso can even remember to breathe. Too focused on marking you up from the inside, feeling the way your plushy cunt squeezes and milks him dry.
“I could f-flip us over so ngh- fucking easily.” he grunts, breathing ragged. “Take over s-so easily. Take this pretty pussy all I want. But no, y’look too pretty like this, baby.”
You knew he could. Without even breaking a sweat, in fact, if his iron-hold grip on your hips told you anything.
Strong - he was so strong.
“Then why- ah! don’t you?”
You had half the mind to wonder whether Choso let you pin him down just because he wanted to- but you don’t get to ponder about it for too long. Because no sooner has the thought entered your mind before he’s running his mouth.
“Shit, because I could cum from jus’ this sight.” Talking, like he couldn’t stop. In awe. “Oh? You hah- like being praised, no? Can feel you squeezing the fuckin’ life outta me. Hell, I can ngh- see you.”
And God, it’s so embarrassing the way he could read you so well. Immediately babbling out little praises about how good your gummy walls felt and how pretty you were. How he didn’t give a fuck if this was breaching your regulations as a sorcerer, he could do this forever and ever and-
“Shit!” it’s all you can do to keen and buck desperately as he easily finds that one spot that has you seeing stars. Alternating between hitting that spot with each and every rough thrust, and toying with your swollen clit. “Shut up- shut up shut up-”
You didn’t want him to - and Choso knew that, of course.
He chuckles, “Aww, shy, baby? You don’t have to be.”
“Fuck you,” you manage to grit out, despite your burning face. Your steadily dwindling sanity. “M’not shy”
He gives your ass a quick smack! before speeding up. You shiver and he thinks you look so pretty, gasping for air as he pushes into your lungs. So pretty that Choso can’t help but pull you into a kiss.
“Then just let me ruin you. Please, wan’ it so bad. So badly, fuck-” Relentless - barely even a kiss, like he was continuing the fight from before. Teeth and desperation and cries of the other’s name. Looping an arm around your waist to keep you from running - because this might just be the only fight you didn’t want to escape from. “Fuckin’ use me. Just use me.”
It’s like magnetism, not even a hair’s breadth between you two. You don’t know who’s getting filthier - you or Choso. Your hips are stuttering and sloppy, and so are his own.
Nails raking down his chest, leaving deep, red marks. And he’s marking you in his own way - a little revenge - sharp canines biting down your neck. Intoxicating. Both of you barely even lucid as you chase the other’s high, trying to get them to break first.
This fight, however, you lose.
Because it only takes one, two harsh thrusts before you’re covering Choso in all your sweet sweet juices. The realization that he looks so pretty with your slick glistening on his abs hitting you before the fact that you squirted. Covering him, dripping off his milky skin. So fucking filthy that it made you feel so sinfully dirty to do something like this on a mission.
And you still are - using him over and over to chase peak after peak on his cock. His thick, relentless cock. One that only twitches dangerously at the sight, a fucked-out little giggle leaving him.
“Got hngh- o-one win under my belt. Shit, yer’ so pretty, now show me what you can do, lil’ sorcerer.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Unforgiving
“Why should I?” You blink up tearily at the towering monster in front of you - or rather, your king, you should say. Big arms crossed, bare legs spread, his cock buried deep in your dripping pussy, so so hard and angry even after all these hours. Unmoving. “I’m not a toy.”
Not that he’d ever be the king of you.
But it’s times like this - when he’s looking at you like you’re more a plaything than human, cum dribbling down your legs, poor cunt so overfilled, - is when you think, shit, you might just not make it out alive.
Sukuna grins, “It’s either you do it yourself or nothing. M’not gonna help such a disobedient slut.”
The only response you give him is such a heated glare, one that does nothing but make his smirk grow wider - cock twitching so ferally inside you. Teasing you for so long before telling you to do it yourself. He liked this.
“Oh but,” he pauses. Looking you right in the eyes as he spits on your pussy once. Twice. Adding to the mess of cum and slick down below, barely giving a fuck about the expensive sheets.
And you didn’t want to like it - you refused to like it. But shit, the way Sukuna smeared his saliva all over your sloppy pussy, stuffed and bulging around his thick cock, had you squirming like such a slut. “I’ll give ya a little help.”
Yeah, he liked this. Loved it, even.
Loved this familiar little song and dance - the way his prettiest lil’ consort was more bark than bite, snapping at him. But so so pliant when you’re split apart on his massive cock, jaw slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head, cunt sucking him up so maddeningly good. Needy for more of his cum. Loved how you don’t even register it - the way you’re grinding and dragging your pussy on his dick. Deeper. Harder.
Loved how your eyes snap open when you realize, giving him that beautiful stare that told him to “fuck off” a thousand times over.
“Awww, n’ you were having so much fun.” he coos, shutting up whatever insult was on the tip of your tongue with a quick smack! to your ass. “Time f’me to teach you a lil’ lesson, brat.”
And then he’s pounding into you like a madman - heavy balls smacking your skin. Wrapping his big arms around your waist to keep you still, because God he was so mean. So rough. Enough to bruise.
Warm, you were already so warm with his seed, the feeling so addictive that Sukuna can’t help but fuck it deeper and deeper into you. Wanting - needing - nothing more than to give you more.
“Fuck you.” Is all you can manage to get out. Sukuna’s swollen cock too big, the stretch too sinful, his hips so unforgiving. He always made you feel like such a cumslut. “I d-don’t need to hngh- be taught anything.”
It’s all that takes for his hands to wrap around your throat, like something snapped. Fingernails sharp, right over your racing pulse. He could kill you. And oh it was like you were asking for it, too - but he wouldn’t. Can’t. Instead crashing his lips onto yours, shutting you up before you dug your grave even deeper.
“So mouthy. Such a shame this heavenly pussy is on such a fucking bitch.” he nips at your bottom lip, teasing. Dangerous. “I should kill you right now for your disrespect.” Suddenly so much meaner with his thrusts, so calculated and controlled. Bucking his hips up wildly to hit that one spot he knew too well. Over and over and- “But I won’t.”
Shing!
You never dared to come to the king’s chambers unprepared, of course.
“Then I will.” you held that sharpened comb to his neck. Sharp, digging ever-so-slightly into this skin. Pathetic in comparison to his nails, you knew, but something - anything - to keep this monster in check.
But Sukuna saw - he saw that little wobble in your lips, the way your hands falter minutely when he laughs. Laughs like he didn’t have an impromptu knife to his neck right now, like this cute lil’ human wasn’t the first one in eons to pose a threat to his life.
Because he knew.
He could feel it - the way your dripping cunt squeezing his achig cock, rocking to meet his merciless cadence. Eyes glassy, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth, so fucking needy and on the edge. And he wondered if you knew - what a perfect little slut you were being for him. Exactly what he’s been looking for.
“Oh shut up.” Sukuna murmurs, hot against ear. “You can’t kill me, you pathetic little human.”
“I can.”
And because you don’t know what’s good for you, you’re holding the knife tighter to his neck, wondering how the hell you haven’t drawn blood yet. Close. Just one flick of the wrist. So close.
His fingers snake down to your swollen clit, pressing down. Hard.
“Stop actin’ up n’ just cum f’me.”
And it was so embarrassing. Embarrassing the way he couldn’t bat a lash at your pathetic attempt to take down the king of curses. Embarrassing how that’s all it takes for you to see stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears as you cum so desperately around his cock.
You all but scream Sukuna’s name - just a strangled, breathy mess of moans and tears. So fucking overstimulated that it hurt so good.
Sukuna wasn’t any better - though, he’d never admit it. But you were so pretty for him, all teary whines and your tight pussy trying so greedily to milk the soul out of him, that he just can’t help but cum.
“Fuck fuck fuck. Take it.” Balls squeezing painfully, dick twitching wildly. Again and again, sloppily pumping thick, hot ropes into your quivering pussy. “You don’t fuckin’ deserve it- but hah- take it-”
And you’re so cockdrunk and dizzy with the feeling of him filling you up - dripping down your legs, pooling in a sinful little patch underneath you - that you barely even feel the nails tightening around your throat. Knife knocked to the ground. Though, you think you’re so delirious that you might not have minded either way.
“Tried to kill your lord, huh?” Sharp. Dangerous. “I think you need more than jus’ one lesson, brat.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - Liar liar
Now, Gojo loved your smart mouth.
Ever since those glory days from high school - he always has. He loved how it was always ready with a bitchy comment about his blindfold and an even bitchier smirk afterward. Always so hot-headed, always so fucking gorgeous.
But Gojo loved your mouth even more when it was just inches away from his, telling him to just shut the fuck up before “Yaga hears and realizes that two of his teachers have gone missing.”
Oh, you looked so pretty for him all splayed out over your desk, papers askew, office door just closed - but not locked. Your pretty cunt so messy and just dripping through your panties already. He just couldn’t help but tease you a little bit.
“Does it matter?” he hums, pulling the drenched fabric aside just enough to drag his leaking tip up and down your puffy cunt. Barely teasing your sloppy slit. Hands just everywhere, goosebumps racing down where your skirt was flipped up.
“Of course it fucking-”
“Ah ah.” he interrupts your little rant. Breath hot against your mouth, “Someone might hear.”
God you could fucking smack him right now - not that it would be of any use, of course, with limitless. But you had a nagging little feeling that Gojo would turn it off for the moment, just to feel that cute smack against his face anyway. “Fuck you, Satoru.”
Instead, you’re crashing your lips onto his. So filthy with the way it’s just a mess of teeth and saliva - seething. Barely even noticing the way you’re pulling his angry, throbbing cock closer, heels digging into his slutty waist.
“You’re all big talk but you’re just a-” he’s reeling his hips back, so filthy on purpose with the way he’s letting his weeping head smear precum all over your hips. “-desperate little-” Fat cock surging forward to stretch at your swollen folds. “-slut.”
“Fuck off.”
“No, m’fucking you.”
Nothing more is said before Gojo’s bullying his massive cock into your tight pussy. Head falling into the crook of your neck with a low groan as he ruts into you in jagged, tight little thrusts.
Like he wanted to tear you apart. Like he was holding back.
“F-fuck. M’not a fucking-” you moan at the burning stretch. So delicious with the way he was drawing quick, methodical little circles on your throbbing clit. “Slut.”
Because of course you couldn’t keep your mouth shut - not even when Gojo was fucking you dumb on his cock.
And it’s all you can do to just sit there and take it as he thrusts his hips harder. It almost felt like he’d deemed you unworthy of allowing you to adjust. Hands locking around your hips to sit you all pretty on the desk while he slides his cock in and out in and out in and-
“Fucking liar.”
“Wh-what?”
“This one-” Gojo draws his hand back ever-so-slightly from your poor, abused clit. Palm facing your sloppy pussy like he was going to-
Smack!
“-is honest with me.”
You don’t even know if you’re in the proper state of mind to respond to that - and you don’t even want to try. To embarrass yourself. As if the way you were letting out strangled gasps of Gojo’s name, hips bucking wildly, wasn’t pathetic enough.
“God, you love this, huh?” he’s panting, like the way your gummy walls were squeezing the ever-loving life out of his thick cock had broken open some dam. “Shit. Do you even realize how much you love this?” he glances down at your messy pussy. Your sweet sweet juices smearing and spreading in a lewd little pool on the table below. “Sweetheart, you’re just drooling everywhere.”
And as if that wasn’t unfair enough, Gojo goes suspiciously quiet for a beat. One. Two.
Before spitting a steady stream of saliva to the mess down below, awestruck at the way your cunt clenches and quivers like such a slut.
“Hngh- oh my god. T-Toru. Fuck!”
“See? Ya love it.” he’s speeding up. And you don’t know what’s more erratic - his fingers on your swollen cunt, so frenzied they were like a blur, or his hips. Leaving marks with how mean he was being. Merciless. Fucking merciless. Massaging all the right spots inside, no reason or rhyme. “Fucking liar, so pretty takin’ all of me. Can’t even handle me properly.” Running on just the thought of you and getting you off and you you you-
Smack!
“Did ya know you try to squeeze the soul out of me every time I smack this cute lil’ pussy?” he chuckles, the complete opposite of how his cock was so mean. “She can’t get enough of me. Really love this cock, huh?”
You grit out, “I fuckin’ hate you-”
And as if to prove something, he’s giving your swollen pussy another smack! Right over where your clit was so pulsing and angry. White-hot shocks of pleasure going all the way from Gojo’s fingertips to your hazy mind.
“She might just love me as much as you do.”
And when you cum, you’re cumming so hard you didn’t know whether you’d make it out alive. Riding your high on Gojo’s unforgiving cock. Wave after wave that have you so cockdrunk and delirious that you’re worried that someone could-
Click! “Is anyone-”
Your back hits the mattress before you can react - before you even think to wonder what the fuck just happened. Before the smell of pine and candy hits your senses and it hits you that shit those navy blankets look too familiar.
“Satoru…” you glance up from Gojo’s bed at the man himself looming over you. Cock still buried so deep in your cunt, rocking so hard into you that the mattress creaks in protest. You can barely choke out, “D-did you just hah- teleport us-”
“Yeah.” he sounded so infuriatingly smug. “Decided m’not letting you go till you start being as honest as this cute pussy.”
A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo x reader#geto x reader#sukuna x reader#nanami x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#sukuna smut#nanami smut#tonywrites#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#choso x reader#choso smut#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#gojo x reader smut#toji x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader#toji fushiguro smut#nanami x reader smut#choso x reader smut#geto x reader smut
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Take it Off - Azriel x Reader
Summary: You and Azriel have been friends for centuries... but what happens when he wakes up one day to find that things have changed? And how will he react when you start wearing Cassian's clothes?
Warnings: Angst. Jealous Azriel. Suggestiveness and then some (I don't know what warning to put, but it's spicier than my usual stuff is all I'll say). Cassian is an absolute menace... good for him
Author's note: Did I write this to procrastinate editing SSIB Ch 22 after watching Bridgerton S3?... yes
Is this a fucking game to you?
Cassian grinned over the lip of his cup, raising his brow in a poorly disguised expression of confusion. He’d been playing the innocent fool all throughout breakfast, seemingly oblivious to the daggers Azriel was throwing his direction every time he made you laugh.
Internally, he and Nesta were both cackling. He threw his arm over the back of his meta’s chair, plucking the cream puff she held out for him, and tossing it into his mouth with a shit-eating grin.
I’ve not the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Azriel. Although it hurts me deeply to see you so upset.
Upset was an understatement. Azriel was holding onto his glass of orange juice so tightly cracks were beginning to form beneath his fingertips.
You elbowed Azriel in the ribs, brows furrowed as you pointed your slice of toast towards his hand. “Are you ok?” You whispered low and just for his ears.
The molten anger in his eyes melted away, hazel eyes softening as he took in your concerned expression. You were the first and only one of his family members to watch him so intensely. You could unravel the meaning in every twitch of his jaw, every rhythmic tap of his fingers against his thigh, every flicker of his shadows. You knew when he was upset, when he was happy, and when he wanted to laugh but had trouble expressing it. The only thing you weren’t aware of when it came to Azriel was how unbelievably in love with you he was.
But that was his own fault.
You’d watched him fawn over Mor for centuries, watched as he practically crawled on hand and knees for any kernel of affection she was willing to throw his way. Then, when you thought he’d finally gotten over his feelings for her, he’d chased after Elain’s heels like a dog in heat. You didn’t even want to begin thinking about Gwyn and the way she’d trampled over his hopes with the simple phrase, “I love you as a friend, Azriel. Nothing more.”
No. It was entirely his fault that you’d learned to bury your own feelings for him so deep they’d become background noise — as inconsequential and ever present as the sound of your own breathing.
Still… you couldn’t help but notice the secrets swimming in his eyes, the hurt and longing there that you could only guess the origin of. Who’d hurt him this time? You wondered.
“I’m fine.” Azriel whispered, his hands ghosting over your thighs before deciding against touching you there.
You hummed, clearly unconvinced. You held your toast in between your teeth, tasting the raspberry jam explode on your tongue as you reached over and carefully peeled Azriel’s fingers off his injured glass.
His heart stuttered at the sight of your lips as they closed around your thumb, licking away crumbs and jam from your fingertips. But then his gaze dropped to your chest and his stomach soured.
As Madja’s apprentice, you’d acquired a special interest in botany — an interest that had all but shoved you into Feyre’s studio so you could learn the skills necessary to depict all manner of flora and fauna in your field journal. When you’d complained about finding paint and charcoal stains over your clothes, Cassian had jumped on the opportunity to give you his old shirts to use as painting smocks. He had to congratulate himself for the stroke of genius. After all, he and Nesta had been discussing plans on how to get Azriel to admit his feelings for months now.
Azriel did not respond well to outright suggestions or bullying. If he told Azriel to pull his head out of his ass and ask you on a proper date, the Shadowsinger would only hunker down on his preconceptions that he was unloveable, and that you were far too good for him. If he revealed to Azriel that you’d secretly loved him for decades that would only make him feel even more embarrassment and shame.
No.
Jealousy worked far better when it came to Azriel.
You looked comfortable and happy in Cassian’s clothes — a fact that escaped no one’s notice. You had the sleeves rolled up past your elbows, the rows of buttons at your back haphazardly done without wings to accommodate. You’d worn that particular shirt a half dozen times now and replaced any scent of Cassian with your own.
Still, you were wearing another male’s shirt… and it was starting to drive Azriel insane.
“I was going to get rid of these and thought you might like them for… painting.” Azriel shifted on his feet, holding out the neatly stacked pile of clothes for you.
You were laying on your stomach in bed, colored pencils and textbooks splayed out around you, but quickly righted yourself and sifted through the piles he handed you.
You held one up for a better look.
“Azriel, you were just wearing this last week.” It still smelled like him — the scent of the Illyrian mountains at night woven through the soft, cotton material. “I can’t take this. Or this. Or this!”
“I have more just like them.”
You huffed, fists balanced on your hips.
Azriel was a simple male with ample space in his wardrobe. When he wasn’t in his Illyrian leathers he wore the same three outfits on rotation, all of them nearly identical. If there was anyone who shouldn’t be giving away clothes, it was Azriel.
“I really appreciate it, Az, but I’m ok. I don’t need these. Cassian already gave me enough hand-me-downs to last two decades at least.”
A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped out. “Well I’m glad for that.” He was practically seething. You noticed, as you always did, but you couldn’t imagine that you were the cause of his frustrations.
“Are you sure you’re alright, Az? You’ve been acting strangely the past few days.”
“It’s nothing.”
“I doubt that.”
There were various things on his mind, chief among them you. So he took hold of the olive branch you’d extended him and laid down beside you, talking about everything and nothing at all. But one thing he avoided talking about at all costs was how the gentle scraping of your nails through his hair as he rested his head in your lap made him want to lock the door and never come out.
He wanted to bury his face beneath your sundress and then tear it to pieces. He wanted to dive under the covers and leave an assortment of marks on your skin. To hold you so close that you began to smell like one another.
You lay down beside him, leaning your head against his shoulder so he caught whiffs of your elderberry and lemon shampoo.
“You know you can tell me anything, right? That’s what friends are for.”
Right… friends. He was starting to hate that word.
“Yes… I know.”
How long do you think he’ll last?
Nesta felt Cassian’s soft laugh blow over the back of her neck as they crouched just behind the door of Feyre's painting studio.
Azriel had been undeniably irritable the last two weeks, his patience fraying like a linen skirt with the hem torn off. Cassian was still sporting a bruise on his cheek from this morning’s sparring session after one of his teasing remarks had hit a little too close to home.
Not much longer. Look at him, Nes. He’s practically vibrating.
Nesta slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter.
Azriel was restless, his wings kept opening and closing with agitation and the curve of his ears had long since turned a bright shade of pink. He’d had his shadows knock over a cup of ink earlier, sending its contents splattering over your shirt and staining the fabric beyond repair. But you’d only shrugged and said, “It’s my painting shirt. It’s meant to get dirty,” before going back to your canvas with a soft smile. The moment you’d turned your back to him, he’d silently cursed the ceiling.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. He kicked himself, too focused on your continuing conversation to think that his meddling brother and sister-in-law might be watching.
He hadn’t expected his emotions to take over so quickly, least of all with you. You’d been his best friend for over two hundred years. You were a staple in his life, more familiar to him than the childhood blanket he still had tucked away in his drawer. There was no reason why he should suddenly wake up one day and realize with a shock of surprise that he loved you and couldn’t imagine living in a world that didn’t have you in it.
It had been such a silly moment as well. You’d been getting ready for Starfall, your hair done up and a flush of color spread over your cheeks and lips. He’d come to check in on you and lost his breath when he saw you sitting at the vanity, holding up earrings to your neck to see if they matched the satin of your deep blue gown. And then you’d politely asked him to lace up your dress and he’d nearly swallowed his tongue in surprise, forcing his hands to stop shaking as they brushed against your spine. Gods he’d wanted to throw himself off a balcony that night, if only because you’d be the one tasked with healing him.
He wanted to throw himself off the balcony now. Let the ground swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to make a fool of himself in front of you… again.
I give it another week. Nesta declared.
Cassian smirked. I know my brother. He won’t last another three days.
In the end they were both wrong.
It only took two days for Azriel to finally snap.
“Take it off.”
You swiveled around in your chair, tongue pressing against your cheek as you wondered what gave Azriel the audacity to march into your private lesson with Feyre and make such an out-of-character demand.
“What?” You asked, furrowing your brows.
Azriel stood as still as an obsidian statue in the doorway. His wings loomed over his shoulders, talons reaching towards the ceiling tense and twitching.
“Take. It. Off,” he repeated through gritted teeth. He clutched a neatly folded shirt in his hands, knuckles pale and bloodless from the tight grip. You’d been wearing Cassian’s clothes almost every day this past week and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t stand sitting beside you at the dinner table or in the library, the laughter in his throat dying when he caught Cassian’s scent drifting off your skin.
It was maddening the way you didn’t think anything of it.
Yes, Cassian was practically a brother to you, and yes, he was a mated male but… fuck it bothered Azriel so much to think of anyone else laying claim to you. To think that one day you might actually walk around wearing another male’s clothes because you loved them. To think that that male wouldn’t be him.
He’d tried to bring up the topic with you in his own round-about way, but you’d shrugged off all his suggestions of wearing something — anything — else.
“If you want painting clothes, why don’t we go shopping this afternoon? I’m sure Feyre has recommendations. Or we could just walk around the Rainbow until something catches your eye.”
“I’m not a full time artist, and it seems silly to spend money on clothes you intend to ruin.”
“Why don’t you ask Feyre or Mor for hand-me-downs then? They’ll fit you better and the sleeves won’t drag so much.”
“I like it when my clothes are loose.”
Feyre glanced between the two of you, namely the flare of Azriel’s nostrils and the way he ground his teeth so intently you worried he’d crack a tooth.
“I’m… going to leave now.”
“Wait—Feyre!”
The High Lady kissed your cheek, a knowing look in her eyes, before scurrying out the door.
Don’t scowl so much, Az, you’re making her nervous. She chirped to the Shadowsinger before slipping down the hallway and disappearing.
She made it all of ten feet down the hall before crowing, “It’s happening!” to the others.
It’s happening?! Mor leapt out from her bedroom, a robe hastily tied around her waist and soap suds clinging to her hair. “Fey—” she hissed.
Feyre pressed a finger up to her lips, cutting her off. They’re in the art studio now.
I fucking KNEW IT! Mor squealed in delight, stomping her feet soundlessly into the floorboards as she allowed Feyre to grab her wrist and drag her forward.
I won the bet, Nes.
You didn’t win, we both lost!
Semantics.
Why you bas—
Feyre, Rhys, Mor, Cassian, and Nesta streamed into the foyer. There was an air vent here that led directly to the art studio two floors above them and painted over so expertly it may as well have been part of the molding. The sounds traveling through it were muffled by echos and distance, but nothing that fae hearing and magic couldn’t overcome.
“That’s it!” The chair you’d been sitting in skittered back with a squeak. “What is your problem, Azriel? You’ve been agitated for weeks now. You won’t tell me, or any of the others, what’s wrong and every time Cassian so much as glances in your direction you look like you want to tear his throat out!”
Azriel said nothing as you stomped forward and dragged him into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Whiskey eyes flickered down to your hand — the hand you currently had closed around his wrist — and he shuddered.
You didn’t even want to begin to unpack the hidden meaning of that response as you brought him to the center of the room and let go.
He dropped the shirt on the nearby desk, hands lowering to the hem of your painting smock with a grimace.
“I need you to take this off.” He repeated with a frown.
“What kind of person marches into a room and demands that their friend take off their shirt?”
He flinched at that word — friend.
“Az!” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and his anger. “What is going on with you?!”
“It’s nothing.” He growled out, but he tugged at the hem like its very existence was a personal offense.
“Clearly it’s not nothing.”
“Can you just take off your shirt and put this one on?”
You shoved him away. It wasn’t even like he was asking you to get naked, you both knew you were wearing something beneath this, but it was the way he was asking that grated on your nerves — like what he was requesting was perfectly normal and you were the ridiculous one for not listening.
“No.” You folded your arms over your chest with a huff. You were just being stubborn now, but you didn’t care.
His eyes turned tortured and he clasped his hands together in front of you. “Please?” He begged.
“No! Not until you tell me what’s going on and why you’re acting this way!”
“I don’t want to have this discussion while you’re standing there smelling like another male!”
That was… not what you were expecting.
You gaped at him, unsure whether to howl with laughter, or slap him across the face.
“That’s what this is about? You’re upset because I’m wearing Cassian’s clothes?” You gagged at the mere thought of what Azriel was insinuating.
“Well that was a little hurtful.” Cassian mumbled.
Mor slapped the back of his head. “Shhhhh. I’m trying to listen.”
Azriel shifted on his feet, color beginning to spread high on his cheekbones. “It’s not about Cassian… not really…”
You tapped your foot on the ground, waiting for him to continue. Azriel felt naked. Stripped back like one of your insect specimens lit up beneath a microscope. Your eyes raked over his every movement. Even his shadows, usually so attention-seeking, cowered behind their master’s back whispering to one another about how Azriel might dig himself out of his own grave.
“Well?” You snapped.
Azriel shrank back, “I… I like you, Y/n.”
You rolled your eyes, “I know, that’s why we’re friends. I like you too.”
“No. Not… not like that.” Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh I’m fucking this up so badly it’s not even funny anymore.”
“I don’t even know what it is you’re fucking up. I—”
“I love you, ok?” He said in a burst of energy. “I love you and not in the way that friends are meant to love one another and Cassian’s an idiot and I’m a jealous bastard and I… I…”
You stared back dumbly. “You can’t mean that.”
Azriel’s face fell. “And why not?”
“Because I have been here for decades, centuries,” you jabbed his chest with a finger, “And you never once looked at me that way. Never once considered me as anything more than a friend. You’re upset because I’ve been wearing Cassian’s clothes the last few weeks? Well guess what, Az, I’ve watched you walk in and out of those doors for years with your poorly concealed hickies and that lovesick look on your face, and I never made it your problem or anyone else’s.”
“Well I want you to!” He shouted. It was the first and only time you could remember him raising his voice. “I want you to make it my problem, Y/n. I want you to tell me that you love me and I want you to shout at me for all the stupid decisions I’ve made because I’m yours. I’m yours to shout at. I’m yours to get angry with. I’m yours to love if you’ll still have me and…” Azriel gasped for breath, chest heaving as he came face to face with the fact that he’d just said those words out loud. Those words that he’d kept close to his chest with the rest of his secrets. Those words that proved just how completely at your mercy he was.
Please say you’ll still have me. His eyes begged.
When you didn’t move or say anything, he felt a piece of his heart wither away. He lowered his eyes, suddenly interested in a speckle of red paint that had smeared under his boot, “Forgive me. I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t… I shouldn’t have—”
“You’re a fucking idiot, Azriel.” You muttered breathlessly.
Then you flung yourself into his arms and crashed your lips into his.
Kissing Azriel was better than you could have ever imagined. The fantasies you’d constructed late in the night when you were lonely blew apart like paper houses, crumbling in the face of reality. His mouth fumbled for purchase against your lips before slotting into place with a strangled moan. He lifted you in the air and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, tightening them until you could feel him harden between your legs.
His tongue flitted over your lips tasting like oranges and magic.
But his hands.
His hands.
You couldn’t get enough of them as they slid up and down your back, squeezing and pressing into your skin until he’d memorized the curve of your spine. You wove your fingers in his hair, tilting his head so you could stare into his hazel eyes before diving in for another taste.
He walked you back to the desk, shadows flinging the tins of charcoal and pastel pencils off the furniture so you could perch there instead. Then he surged forward, pressing his hips into the space between your legs so he could feel the heat that gathered there. It sent shivers down his spine.
This… this was everything he’d ever wanted. You were everything he’d ever wanted. Not some unapproachable female he admired from afar but hardly knew, but someone who’d seen every inch of his soul and never flinched. Someone who’d nestled into the hidden corners of his heart and grown there like a willow tree.
You moved your hands over the wide expanse of his back, digging your nails in to feel every twitch of muscle, every shudder, as he latched onto the side of your neck and slid his tongue over the sensitive skin there.
He smelled like mountain rain. Like fresh wind and petrichor and sea salt.
You smelled like lemons and safety. Like maple leaves and lavender and… Cassian.
Because you were still wearing his gods-damned shirt.
Azriel felt his blood boil, and an instinctual rage took over as he growled low in his throat, bunched the fabric of Cassian’s shirt in his hands, and tore it in two.
You pulled away from him at the sound of ripping fabric, but kept your grip on his solid shoulders as air blew across your skin.
Azriel’s pupils were blown wide, his lips pink and raw as he leaned his forehead against yours in a daze. You continued to breathe each other’s air like you were drowning. He seemed just as in disbelief as you, if not more.
“Azriel…” You whispered, chest heaving.
He looked at you with half-lidded eyes full of heat. “... yes, Y/n?” He asked breathlessly.
“I think you ripped through my dress… and my bra as well…”
“Oh…” He fingered the ruined fabric that fell loose around your shoulders and realized that your back was indeed on full display. The straps of your bra slipped down and the mangled buttons of your sundress clung to their loops by weak threads. “Oh…oh gods.”
One hand flew up to your chest to keep the fabric in place while the other slapped over your mouth, suffocating the laughter that threatened to burst forth.
Azriel’s ears and cheeks turned brighter than the sun as he slowly lowered you down to your feet, fumbling over apologies like he hadn’t been shoving his tongue down your throat mere seconds ago.
“I’m so sorry—”
“Azriel, it’s ok.”
“No, I was being an ass and now I’ve ruined your dress and—”
“You can buy me more.”
Azriel’s shoulder dropped. “I can?”
“You can.”
He shook his head very seriously. “Yes, yes you’re right, I—”
Azriel had always been the beautiful one — the one that drew eyes when he walked into a room. The one that had females and males falling out of their seats for a proper look at his elegant features. But right now he looked so helpless, so flustered and unsure of himself that you finally lost it.
Champagne bubble laughs slipped out of your mouth, light and airy, and sent a shock of warmth through Azriel’s chest. It was infectious the way the skin stretched over your cheeks. The light in your eyes couldn’t be contained no matter how hard you tried.
He couldn’t help himself.
He started laughing too.
What began as one of his reserved chuckles grew into uncontrollable peals of laughter that echoed throughout the studio and had you clutching onto the desk for support.
Azriel doubled over, one hand holding the stitch in his side together as you howled.
“Oh gods. I can’t—” You hiccuped. “I-I-I can’t breathe.”
Soon you were both kneeling on the ground, clutching each other’s arms for some semblance of stability. You gasped for breath, wiping away tears from the corners of your eyes.
Azriel captured one of your hands, weaving his fingers through yours before bringing your wrist to his lips for a soft, reverent kiss. You thought you’d experienced enough emotions for today ranging from frustration to anger to a joy you couldn’t begin to put into words. But you were certain your heart could handle one more shift in the atmosphere.
Wordlessly you tugged off Cassian’s shirt, dropping it to the side where shadows caught hold of the cursed fabric and quickly tossed it into the fireplace. The flames crackled with triumph, eating away at the shirt with a vengeance.
“A little dramatic, don’t you think?”
“We can agree to disagree.” Azriel murmured, his eyes growing dark and heavy. His gaze drifted down to the soft skin now exposed from your tattered dress, the thin straps clinging to your arms, the gentle swell of your breasts as you breathed heavily.
His fingers danced over the straps in silent permission, eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But you were open and wanting and desperate for his touch. You crawled into his lap and a faint nod was all he needed before the pale blue fabric of your dress fell down and bunched about your waist. The bra followed, and then you were sitting there naked from the waist up, feeling the heat grow between your bodies as Azriel looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes.
“Am I dreaming, Y/n?” He whispered, rubbing circles into your hip bones.
You smiled softly, “Have you dreamed of me before?”
“Yes. Many times.” He kissed your chest, slowly dragging his hands down your ribs as you shivered and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and then his belt buckle. “But we never got this far.”
“Hmmmm, I think we could go a little further.”
“NOT IN MY STUDIO!” Feyre’s voice echoed oddly through the room, sounding muffled and far away.
Azriel’s wings flared out, hiding you from view as you yelped and pressed your chest against his. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment about being found in such a compromising position. But the door was closed! And so were the windows!
His shadows finally found the culprit in the air vent.
“Godsdamnit—HAVE YOU BEEN LISTENING THE ENTIRE TIME?!” Azriel shouted.
A moment passed before Feyre answered, “... No,” in a much softer tone.
“We missed part of the beginning,” Cassian chimed in.
Azriel groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as you were stunned into silence. He muttered something beneath his breath that sounded oddly similar to, “I swear I’m going to kill him one day.”
Azriel helped you to your feet and finally, you put on his shirt.
“Are you happy now?” You teased, arms dropping to your sides.
The corner of his lip twitched upwards. You looked… very good in his clothes with the sleeves rolled up and a sliver of your dress (now skirt) peeking out from beneath.
He looked towards the vent, then wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close so he could whisper, “I would be happier if I saw my shirt and that dress of yours on the floor of my bedroom.”
His hand slid up your skirt, squeezing the back of your thighs in a way that had you stiffening.
All at once he was second-guessing himself. Maybe he’d taken things too far. Maybe the lust-filled haze had cleared and you didn’t want him anymore.
You swallowed and wrapped your hand around his wrist, gently guiding his fingers to your core. You let him know just how much you wanted this.
A roar of blood sounded in the Shadowsinger’s ears.
“I think that sounds like a very good plan.” You murmured in agreement and his eyes turned black as night.
He stole another long kiss before scooping you into his arms.
“Az, where are we going?” You giggled into the curve of his throat as he flew down the hallway and stairs. “We just passed your bedroom.”
“We’re not going to my bedroom.”
“Well we missed my bedroom too.”
He didn’t respond.
Azriel skidded to a stop at the top of the staircase, already well aware that his family had gathered at the bottom and were waiting to bombard him with questions.
Azriel smirked at you, leaned down, and kissed your cheek. “When I take you to bed properly, it won’t be with our nosey family members in the house.” He ran his tongue across the line of your jaw all the way to your earlobe and whispered, “I want any noises you make to be for me, and me alone.”
“You are certainly a man of poetry, Az.”
He smiled. “Only for you.”
“Well, well, well if it isn’t the two love—” Shadows flew into his mouth, muffling his words. “HEH! Azz! Whazthf—”
“I’ll see you in a week.” He said to no one in particular, his shadows opening the door of the River House.
“Where are you going?” Mor asked, her eyes zeroing in on the bright red mark blossoming on your neck. What the fuck? She mouthed at you, giving you two thumbs up as Azriel crossed the doorway with you in his arms.
“None of your business. I’ll see you in a week.” Then he looked down at you, eyes growing soft. “We’ll see you in a week,” he corrected himself.
Your stomach bottomed out, heat flowing through your body as you heard him make such a declaration in front of... well everyone. You couldn't wait to see where he would take you and where he would take you.
"Ready?" Azriel asked, a sultry smile growing on his face.
"Ready."
You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the hollow of his throat as he took off into the air.
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rafe + breeding kink
warnings: singledad!rafe, older!rafe (maybe like late twenties-early thirties), nanny!reader, rafe’s son calls you mommy, fluff, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy and having kids, creampie
a/n: breeding kink was so heavily requested omg, i love everyone who left a req for this <3 i definitely went a little overboard lol
“well, that worked like a charm.” rafe smiled down at you and his son who was currently cuddled into your side. “i don’t want to move away from him.” you pouted, running your fingers through the little boy’s hair. you had been doing this weird thing to rafe’s heart everytime he saw you caring for his boy, and he didn’t know what to make of it.
despite having been rafe’s nanny for nearly three years now, you still found yourself getting flustered every time you caught him staring at you. whether it was you folding laundry, or bending over to dust the entertainment center, all those little things were starting to add up into something both of you wouldn’t be able to come back from.
“do you think we could talk?” rafe helped you up from his son’s race car bed, a worried expression overtaking his features. “yeah, of course, is everything alright?” you didn’t miss the way he kept your hand in his, leading both of you downstairs after closing the door to little ray’s room. “yes, i actually wanted to talk about my salary-” rafe was quick to cut in.
“throw me a number and you got it.” he dropped your hand, ushering you to take a seat next to him. you laughed softly, shaking your head. “no, i don’t want more pay; quite the opposite, really.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “you’re not quitting are you?” he heard his heart beating in his ears at your lack of response.
“no, god no!” you placed a hand on his arm, “i’ve been looking for another job because i don’t want to be paid for taking care of ray anymore..” you met his gaze, running your nails against his skin. “why?” rafe couldn’t wrap his head around your words, his eyes darting across your face.
“you know, i’ve been taking care of ray since he was two, and he’s going to be five next week.. i’ve grown so close to him.” you smiled. “caring for him, cooking for him, playing with him, loving him, it isn’t a job for me.” you didn’t realize you were crying until rafe wiped your cheek ever so gently. “you love him?” rafe’s voice was barely above a whisper, his own tears threatening to spill from his eyes.
“i do, rafe. i love him so much.” you sniffled. “he called me mom the other day and i felt terrible ‘cause i bursted into tears on the spot, and he thought he made me sad but i was just overjoyed.” you laughed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i want you to know that i’m not trying to take the place of his mother, i would never do that..”
rafe knew ray called you mom. it wasn’t too long ago that ray said, ‘mommy made my favorite pancakes!’ when rafe asked him about his day and made his heart damn near stop in his chest when he heard the word fall from his son’s lips. “you’re the closest thing he has to a mother. i don’t even know how to thank you for that.” he leaned in, embracing you tightly.
you two stayed like this for a couple moments before you pulled away, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “i called mrs. anderson to set up a playdate with ray and her son, and do you want to know what she said?” you stifled a laugh as rafe relaxed into the couch. “what?” he admired the way you lit up while talking about ray.
“she said that ray was a little more on the wild side and that it would be in her son’s best interest if they didn’t hang out anymore.” you watched as rafe shrugged. “that little nerd was too boring, anyways.” you gasped, slapping his chest playfully. “rafe!” you whispered, both of you covering your mouths to keep from being too loud.
he quieted down, sighing to himself before looking up at the ceiling, you following suit. “i do worry about that sometimes. i feel like ray needs more of a permanent friend, like a sibling..” he trailed off, glancing at you only to see you were looking at him already. “a sibling?” you raised your eyebrows. “how would you go about that?” you cleared your throat, trying to ignore the smidge of jealousy that settled in the pit of your stomach.
“want me to explain to you how babies are made?” rafe scooted closer, his arm draping over your shoulders. “no need, i’m well aware.” you waved him off. “yeah?” he guided you on top of his lap, both of you looking at each other with dark swirling in your eyes. “tell me, y/n, ‘you ever think about having little ones?” his large hands came up to rub against your thighs.
rafe felt as if he was approaching that line he’s been wanting to cross since the first time he interviewed you all those years ago. “yes.” you let out a shaky breath when you felt rafe’s fingertips move under your blouse. “you would make such a good mother, you’d want that wouldn’t you?” you cupped his face as his lips ghosted over your own.
you moaned once he finally kissed you, both of your clothes coming off before you could have enough time to think. “gonna fill you up and make you have my babies, yeah?” he laid you down on the soft cushions, running the head of his cock between your wet folds. “yes, please.” you mewled, eyes shining with lust as he took your chin between his thumb.
“fuck, you’re so beautiful.” he covered your mouth, muffling the yelp that left your lips when he entered you slowly, your silky walls welcoming him inch by inch. his strokes were slow and full of intention, his arms caging you in while you two shared the kind of kisses that made your head spin. “been wanting you like this for so long.” he cursed under his breath.
you whimpered, arms wrapping around his neck as you trailed kisses across his jaw. the intimacy of having his body flush against yours wasn’t like anything you’ve ever experienced, your soft cries driving him on the brink of fucking you senseless. “oh, my god,” you clawed at his skin, making him hiss as he tugged at the roots of your hair to make you look up.
“i can see it already; all three of us going to the beach and rubbing on your round belly, all pretty and pregnant.” rafe picked up his pace, your hips now moving with his to meet his thrusts. “i want that so bad!” you nearly screamed when he started toying with your clit, both of you holding onto one another like your life depended on it.
“jesus, fuck-” his movements came to a halt before he placed your legs on his shoulders, leaning down until your thighs met the cushions underneath you. snaking an arm around your lower back, you gasped when he started lifting you up, fucking you onto his cock so he could reach deeper than before. “r-rafe!” your mouth fell open, eyes blinking slowly.
with one hand still rubbing your clit, and the head of his length continuously hitting your sweet spot, you found yourself approaching the edge of euphoria. rafe can tell by the way you were clenching around him that you were going to cum soon. “hold out a little longer for me, baby. ‘want you to cum when i fill you up.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, hips stuttering once the band in his stomach snapped.
burying his head in the curve of you neck, he moaned against your skin as he stilled, the head of his cock nudging your cervix. you felt the moment he finished, the hot ropes of his cum filling you to the hilt as your thighs started trembling. rafe clamped a hand over your mouth, whispering a ‘let me feel you cum around me.’ before you obliged, your orgasm hitting you in long waves of ecstasy.
you laid helplessly, trying your hardest not to scream at the intense feeling in your tummy, your eyes rolling back as he rubbed a soothing hand on your side. rafe helped you come down from your climax, the aftershocks of your orgasm making your body jolt with every stroke of his fingers against your skin. he stayed nestled inside of you, both of you embracing each other as your breathing slowed, sleep weighing heavy on your eyelids.
“you did so good for me, are you feeling okay?” you blinked up at him, a smile making its way to his lips when he saw the fucked out expression on your face. “mhmm, ‘don’t think i could get up though.” you hissed once he pulled out, watching as he slipped on his pants. “let’s get in the shower, you’re staying here.” he helped you up, putting his large button down over your shoulders.
rafe carried you upstairs, tiptoeing past ray’s room before both of you got in the shower, round two well underway. it wasn’t until you were laying rafe’s bed, adorned in one of his t-shirts that you two heard little ray’s voice outside the door. “daddy? can i come in?” rafe rubbed a reassuring hand on your arm, shouting a ‘yes, son!’ before ray strided inside, running up to you excitedly.
“can i sleep in here, pleaseee,” you embraced him, telling him yes before rafe could get the chance to tell him otherwise. “are you sleeping over?” the little boy peered up at you, wasting no time in settling under the comforter of rafe’s bed. you giggled, flashing rafe a look. “yes, i am.” ray looked over at his father, studying him for a minute.
you watched them have a silent conversation with their eyes, the scene making your heart melt. “goodnight, daddy,” he patted rafe’s chest, “..goodnight, mommy.” he pecked your cheek, the waterworks threatening to spill over at any moment. rafe reached over, taking your hand in his before he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “goodnight.”
#⟡ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks fanfiction#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron concepts#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron prompt#rafe edit#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe obx#obx#obx smut#obx fanfiction#drew starkey
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SONIC’S MOM (in my AU)
I’ve spent a really long time working on Sonic’s mom for my AU but I’m finally ready to share her with you!
I wrote this out in text form below the cut for those of you who need to translate it:
Domino was a free-spirited, independent hedgehog. Despite being dealt some rough cards in life, she always had an upbeat attitude and could find the silver lining to almost any situation. Domino had to get by with just the clothes on her back, so she quickly learned to be very resourceful. She was adamantly against material things, except for her one gold earring that she treasured. Her lack of funds led to a nomadic lifestyle, but this gave her a greater appreciation for the planet and she ended up loving her minimalist way of life.
A one-time tryst led to Domino being pregnant with Sonic at a relatively young age. Though she knew nothing about being a mom, she loved him instantly. She couldn’t offer him much, so she did her best to teach him how to make the most out of what little they had and to appreciate all the wonderful things the planet has to offer. Sonic was able to crawl, walk and soon run faster than most babies, so he was very quick to fend for himself. This made Domino’s life easier and more challenging at the same time!
PHLOX: Sonic’s biological father. He and Domino met while they were both passing through the same village and had instant chemistry. She wasn’t one to stay in one place for long, so she took off after one night together. He never knew about Sonic.
Being a young, single mom is tough enough. When your baby has the ability to run at super speeds, it gets even more complicated. Domino was constantly repairing Sonic’s baby shoes when he repeatedly wore the rubber off, but eventually even her trusty roll of duct tape wasn’t enough to cut it. She ended up giving up her solid gold earring to buy him a pair of durable shoes that could withstand his speed.
Domino had a bad habit of telling tall tales. She didn’t do this to be malicious; she just liked to make her life sound more interesting than it was. This tended to get her into trouble, but made for excellent bedtime stories!
One unfortunate night, a terrible storm rolled in and caused a flash flood in the forest where Domino and Sonic were occupying. Domino knew Sonic would be able to outrun it, so she urged him to get away and leave her behind. Domino did not survive.
This traumatic event had a huge impact on toddler Sonic and is not only the reason he’s afraid of water, but why he stopped talking for several years when he was little. With time, he forgets this event and even forgets Domino, and he finds his voice again.
#my art#my AU#my OCs#domino the hedgehog#phlox the hedgehog#sonic the hedgehog#Sonic’s parents#sonic trash
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“this is killing me.” kuroo mumbled as he tossed his phone to his side. “just trust me bro,” his best friend-turned roommate bokuto grinned. “this works everytime for me i swear!”
kuroo sighed before grabbing phone again to refresh his instagram story views once more. several people had already viewed the post-gym mirror selfie he’d taken in attempts to garner attention from one particular follower of his; you. “maybe it’s too cringe…” he muttered while over analysing the photo that had already gained a couple of likes within the twenty minutes it had already been up for. “nah.” bokuto reassured him and pat his friend on the shoulder. “you look sexy.” kuroo stared back at the two-toned haired boy. “… thanks bro.”
this isn’t something kuroo would typically post but times were tough and he was desperate. he’d seen you around campus but luck was not on his side when it came to scheduling and the two of you barely had class time together. yet the little class time you did share, kuroo hung onto it tightly and would let scenes of these weekly one hour classes replay in his head more often than he’d like to admit.
“i feel like a modern jay gatsby,” the ex volleyball captain huffed. “my selfie is the equivalent of the wild parties he’d throw in hopes to get daisy’s attention except i don’t want to post every night, i’ve already made myself cringe with this one post.” bokuto stared back at his friend blankly. “yeah… whatever that means.” kuroo frowned back “it’s a classic, you should know what i mean!”
how much longer was he going to have to wait? bokuto had promised him quick results with this method and so far he’d felt deceived and lied to. if talking to you when he got the chance wasn’t enough to get a conversation going outside the classroom, then social media seemed like the next best attempt to start interacting more.
what were you doing? why weren’t you viewing his story? could you even see his story? did he accidentally block you?
these questions ran through his mind as he quickly rushed to check to make sure he hadn’t for some reason blocked you from seeing his story. he half wished he did because then at least he’d know what on earth was taking you so damn long to see the photo he was increasingly starting to hate more the longer it was posted.
“this is stupid.” he stated as he faced bokuto who had zero concerns in his method in gaining someone’s attention. “it works you just have to wait, trust me.”
kuroo frowned as the little red hearts of others who weren’t you fluttered from the bottom corner of the photo. “look!” his best friend grinned as he leaned over kuroo’s shoulder and pointed to the screen of his phone. “you’re getting likes on it!”
“what’s the point if they’re not likes from the person i posted this for in the first place.” kuroo grumbled back in response. he couldn’t believe he’d been subjected to such an attempt to gain some attention from you. it was ridiculous.
it had been about forty five minutes since he’d posted it and he was slowly losing his mind. sure, the post was going to be up for twenty four hours (if he didn’t give into the voices in his head telling him to delete it) so forty five minutes was nothing, but the minutes were beginning to feel like hours and he was dying inside. why weren’t you viewing it already and what could possibly be keeping you off your phone right now?
“this is stupid.” he decided as notifications from his old team mates started to flash up on his screen. the last thing he needed was lev replying with ‘looksmaxing’ to a post that was secretly dedicated to you. “no, it’s barely been up!” bokuto whined. “you look hot so you should get some replies anyway what’s the big deal?”
pinching the bridge of his nose, kuroo huffed. “the big deal is the person i posted this for hasn’t replied!” what was the point in making sure to go to the gym during a rest day just to take this photo if he wasn’t going to at least make his existence more known to you? he’d even worked his legs enough to the point of managing to achieve the sweaty but sexy look. the muscles in his legs were dying, but his dignity sure as hell wouldn’t.
the college student opened up his phone with the intention to end the mental war inside his head once and for all by deleting the post altogether. bokuto watched his friend in defeat but his eyes flashed. “yes they did!” he yelled and pointed to the screen as your name flashed at the top of his screen.
kuroo’s heart jumped at the sight of your profile picture he’d made a daily routine of staring at and the now blue dot indicating a message from your profile in his inbox. to think he was going to delete this post just a second too, what were the chances?
psyching himself up, kuroo took a few quiet deep breathes before letting the time next to your message pass for a few minutes. he wasn’t an instagram warrior by any means, but he knew enough about general rules in order to not look desperate online.
bokuto watched over his friends shoulders as the two stared in anticipation awaiting the message kuroo had been dying for. this was it. leg day two times in a row was gruelling and he’d regret it for the next few days but it would have been worth it. the countless messages from his old teammates mocking his attempts at a thirst trap could be looked past now that you had finally given into the bait he’d so carefully laid. this is what he’d been waiting for. days of preparing and deciding how to gain your attention had finally paid off and he was about to reap the rewards he’d sown.
clicking the message with baited breath, his heart raced as bokuto’s grip of his shoulder tightened. finally.
‘the label on your shirt is sticking out, make sure to cut it’
“a wins a win.” bokuto filled the silence between the pair as kuroo stared at his phone with a blank expression. “… a wins a win…”
#not proofread!!!!!!#i’m so rusty at writing what the hale….#but this other model i worked with back in the winter replied with ‘finally’ when i swiped up to his story the other day LOL#this is where i got inspo from#he posted post gym too 🤭🤭🤭🤭#he’s saurrrrrr hot and funny but we’d both been plotting on each other for months through silly ig stories#so embarrassing but the gatsby method works!!!!#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo tetsuro#kuroo tetsuro x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#hq#hq x reader#hq x you#kuroo x you#kuroo tetsuro x you
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Failed | Lando Norris
WC: 900+
Lando x reader
Summery: Failing your driver license test leaves you in tears, but Lando is here to comfort you.
A.N: Could've been much longer, but I've been writing long fics a lot lately. Also, this is for me and for everyone that failed their test(but I'm a crier okay, so you bet your butt i cried when the examiner told me ill be seeing you another time)
MASTERLIST
You trudge up the steps and unlock the door to the house you share with your boyfriend while you’re in England, feeling dejected and just about holding your tears in. Why was it so important to you that you got it? You wouldn’t be using it a lot anyway, so why bother. You just wanted to pass. You hate failing, even if a lot of people fail as well, you hate it.
Opening the door, you hear your boyfriend on the phone, you close the front door a bit too hard, and you wince, you didn’t mean to slam it shut. You hear the talking stop and footsteps coming your way, Land’s head pops around the corner. He still has his phone pressed to his ear, and he’s smiling. But that smile drops once he sees your face, you’re fighting your lips as they want to stay turned down, and you want to act unbothered, but you are failing miserably.
”Max, I’ll call you later, mate.” Lando ends the call before Max F. could say anything. He walks up to you and opens his arms. Before he can even reach you, tears are already escaping your eyes. “What’s wrong, love? Did something happen?”
You shake your head now, burying your face into Lando’s shoulder. Lando runs his hand up and down your back. His mind goes over everything that could’ve happened that would’ve caused you to be upset.
”Was it the test?” He asks, and you nod. He sighs and kisses your head. “It’s alright, love, you can take it again.”
”I-I don’t want to.” You mutter and Lando squeezes you harder.
“Then don’t, you don’t have to.” Lando manages to pull back enough to see your face. He gives you one of his comforting and loving smiles. He quickly kisses your forehead and takes your hands in his. “Let’s sit down and talk.”
You follow him to the sofa, he sits down and pats the spot next to him, you sit sideways so your legs are over his, and you’re slotted into his side.
“Oh, my poor baby.” Lando couldn’t help but feel bad for you. You looked so small cuddled up to him as you tried to find comfort in him. “It’s alright, love, you were just so nervous, you couldn’t sleep well anyway.”
”You knew?” You asked sniffing and looked up at him.
”Yeah, you were turning and shuffling most of the night.” You had no idea he felt you move. You thought he was sleeping.
”I’m sorry.” You mumble and your lips start to tremble again and Lando panics, he holds you close and gently sways you from right to left.
“No, no it’s okay. I keep you up a lot of the time, and I’d be playing or watching a match or something.” Lando didn’t mean to make you feel guilty, and in normal circumstances, you wouldn’t be this upset about it, but your emotions were running wide right now. “y/n, you never even wanted to get a licence. Why are you suddenly wanting it, you’re so upset about something you told me was just for fun.”
”It’s because you're a driver, and I always have to get you to. drive me everywhere, or I have to Uber, and what kind of girlfriend am I if I don’t know how to drive a basic car when you drive supercars for a living.” You admit and refuse to look at him, finding a loose string on his shirt far more interesting.
”y/n, look at me.” You refuse to do that. “Please.” You sigh and look at your boyfriend. “I love driving you around, you’re my passenger princess, and we spend quality time together whenever I drive you somewhere, besides didn’t we agree to stop reading the few bad comments online.”
”I didn-“
”Don’t lie.” Lando cuts you off with a knowing look. You bite your lip and sigh. “You as a girlfriend, are letting me do something I love, but giving me the honour of driving you around, and I wouldn’t let you drive while I’m around anyways.”
”I don’t think I tell you I love you enough.” Lando’s face lights up, his eyes sparkling in a way they only do when you say the magic words.
”Well, I love you too.” Lando says before he leans down and places a few small kisses on your lips, he’s smiling too much to do more than that. “You know, I think if you don’t pressure yourself, you’ll do well if you want to give it another go.”
”Would you help me practise?” You ask, giving him puppy eyes that you didn’t need to give for him to agree.
”Of course.” You hug Lando while you’re both sitting down, and you for a while you just stay wrapped up in each other’s arms, as the last of the sadness ebbs away. “Max wanted to meet us today. Are you up for it?”
”Is P going to be there, because I don’t want to third wheel you and your boyfriend.” You asked teasing Lando, you and P have this running joke that they’re dating, and you’re just always crashing their dates.
”Haha, very funny.” Lando pinches your side, making you squirm away from him with a squeal. “Weren't you just saying you love me?”
”I was, I was, but I’m no match to Max.” You say and jump off the sofa as Lando tries to get a hold of you. He may be fast in a car, but you’re faster than him, so you run giggling through the house with him chasing after you. All thoughts of the failed test are out the window.
Maintaglist
@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3
#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 scenario#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula one imagine#formula 1#formula 1 fanfic#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando#lando norris#lando norris one shot#lando norris imagine#lando x you#lando x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando norris fic#ln4 one shot#ln4#ln4 fluff#ln4 x y/n#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader#ln4 fic#ln
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How would you do a short free-use story staring your favorite idol?
Thanks for the ask! Although I'm not sure what you mean exactly with "How" Do you want me to explain it or write it? I decided to just write it, hope you enjoy. @mechaknight-98 I saw your other request, I will get to it when I have the time.
(I hope I understood the concept of free-use correctly)
White
Kim Jisoo X Male Reader
You hear voices behind the door, after you rang the doorbell. Footsteps come closer and you take a step back. A moment later, the door is being opened.
For a moment, you are stunned by her beauty. How can a person be so pretty? So perfect? You smell her flowery scent. Maybe roses.
Her eyes grow big once she realises who is standing in front of her.
"(Y/n), I-I..."
Jisoo stutters, too surprised to see you standing in front of her parent's mansion. The young heiress of the Kim Group is usually very well spoken.
"What are you doing here?"
"Just came back from a business trip. I haven't had your pussy in weeks."
You catch her flinching.
Despite the amount of times you've already taken advantage of your arrangement, she is still uncomfortable talking about it openly.
"S-Sure. Please follow me."
Jisoo turns around and leads you inside her parent's place, after you shut the door behind you. You walk behind her, enjoying the view of her naked shoulders. The back of her necklace sparkles in the light of the chandelier in the hallway.
Approaching the big wooden stairs in the middle of the house, the two of you pass by the entrance to the dining room.
"Jisoo!"
She freezes in place, before you both look into the room. You recognize her parents, who sit on one side of the table. A chair is empty, the one next to it is occupied by Jisoo's fiance.
"Who is this man?"
Her father looks at you in suspicion.
"He is a business partner of mine. We are headed to my study, cause we have to make an important decision on the future of our companies' relationship, which can't be delayed."
That's the Jisoo everyone knows. The strong, independent and successful businesswoman. The complete opposite of the Jisoo you know. Your submissive, free-use toy.
Her father nods in approval, visibly oblivious. You do a short bow in his direction. Jisoo starts walking again. Her chin raised, back straight.
Halfway up the stairs, you can't help it anymore. She just looks flawless. And you really have been longing for her for weeks.
You reach out, your hand squeezing her ass through her white dress. Jisoo jumps, but she doesn't say anything. She keeps walking as if nothing is happening. After squeezing her right cheek a couple of times, you stop walking, making her stop too.
"Suck me off."
Jisoo turns around. You are almost at the top of the stairs already. You see the confusion in her eyes. Why can't you wait one more minute?
But she doesn't talk back. Jisoo carefully gets on her knees in front of you, making sure she doesn't mess up her dress somehow.
A moment later, your cock lands on her face. Jisoo closes her eyes, taking a deep breath as she savours your smell. You can tell that your absence made her sexually frustrated.
"Are you still waiting until you married him?"
It's an odd question to ask, when the soon to be bride is giving the tip of your dick a sensual kiss.
"Yes. But he keeps trying to initiate something. I don't know if he is gonna wait until he puts a wedding ring on my finger."
You sigh as your gaze gets caught on the big silver diamond ring on her ring finger. The hand it's on is stroking your cock, while she talks.
"I don't like it. But I can't blame him."
You reach down and cup her cheek. Jisoo leans into it, looking up at you with big eyes.
"A woman like you could make a man do whatever she wants. You are fucking gorgeous."
You quickly realize the irony of your words. You are making her do whatever you want.
"Thank you."
A shy smile plays around her lips. Jisoo still can't take compliments. At least when they are coming from you.
After your quick exchange, she finally starts giving you head properly. You can't believe how much of a slut you've turned her into. She is sucking you off in the middle of her parents house in plain sight, while her parents and her boyfriend are in the room next door.
"That's a good girl."
You encourage Jisoo as she bobs her head on your cock. You've missed her mouth. The way her lips wrap around you. The way her tongue glides along your length. The way her throat tightens, when you push past her gag reflex.
As exciting and adventurous this little scene might be, you know that you will get caught sooner rather than later, if you don't move on.
"Let's go to your room. I don't want to waste my time here when I could be in there, plowing your pussy like I own it."
You help Jisoo to her feet, catching the slight blush on her cheeks.
"Because I do."
You whisper into her ear, before spinning her around.
The two of you finally make it down the hallway without any further incidents. Once you reach her room, you walk inside, waiting for her to close the door behind her.
She has turned into a shy, innocent girl once again. You lean against Jisoo, pressing her against the door, kissing every inch of her exposed skin.
"How did I even make it these couple of weeks without this body of yours?"
It was a rhetoric question between kisses, but Jisoo tries to come up with an explanation. An explanation that satisfies you.
"I send you several pictures of me every day. And videos. I kept thinking of you while I..."
A growl escapes your lips. The power you have over her right now gives you a familiar rush of adrenaline.
"Strip."
You sit down on the edge of her bed, crossing your arms in front of you. If you were sitting on a chair at your desk, it would've looked like Jisoo was there to apply for an internship.
She shyly brushes all of her hair on her right side behind her ear.
"Can you help me please?"
Jisoo turns around. She know uses her whole hand to put all of her hair over her left shoulder. You reach upwards, taking the zipper of her dress, before slowly pulling it down. Your eyes follow her dress as she lets it slip down her frame.
Her porcelain like skin and her white lace panties captivate you. Her fiance must go mad, knowing she is together with him and he still can't have her.
The sight of Jisoo, standing in front of you almost completely naked, makes you finally jump into action. You pin her against the door, before she can react. Your pants are on the floor a second later.
After pushing the white fabric to the side, Jisoo does nothing but moan as you ease yourself inside.
"Oh fuck."
You groan into her ear, relishing in the familiar feeling of being inside her tight cunt. Jisoo's cheek is pressed up against the white wood as she takes your pounding from behind. Her moans are deeper than they usually are. Maybe because you haven't fucked her in a while. Or because her parents and fiance are downstairs.
You kiss her other cheek and her naked shoulders as you thrust into her again and again. Her scent only makes you go harder. You hold her waist with both hands, pounding her against the door.
Jisoo's eyes are closed. You can't tell if it's because she is liking it so much, or because she is cheating. Either way, you keep using her body to make yourself cum. Her tight walls do most of the job. They squeeze around you, trying to make you cum as quick as possible.
Leaning against her, you fuck her into the door, slowly approaching your orgasm.
"Fuck Jisoo."
She knows what's coming next, moaning a little louder as she feels you throbbing inside of her.
That rush, coming from knowing you are using another man's woman as a free-use toy, pushes you over the edge. You claim Jisoo's pussy as yours as you paint her insides white. She feels your cum warm her lower region. While her fiance is probably begging her to sleep with him, you don't even bother asking where she would want your cum. You creampie Kim Jisoo, enjoying the familiar feeling of her cum filled pussy squeezing your cock.
Jisoo was never the loud type. Which is a blessing in disguise, especially when you use her in public. She barely talks, only moans and whines escape her mouth. It fits her reserved, proud character. Jisoo doesn't look very elegant or proud right now as you finally come to a hold. You bite into her ear, just above her earrings. As she flinches and hisses in pain, you only have time to think for barely a second. You wonder if she bought them, or her fiance did. They look beautiful on her.
When you open your eyes again, you see your teeth marks in her ear. Jisoo's forehead is now leaning against the wood. Her eyes are still closed, she is taking heavy breaths.
Resting your chin on her naked shoulder, you stay buried inside her snug hole.
"I have a meeting with your company tomorrow."
You kiss her neck, this time more careful not to leave a mark.
"Put your hair in a ponytail. I need something to hold onto. You don't want me to mess up your hair, do you?"
You step into her huge office after the first half of the long meeting is over. Jisoo surely did not disappoint.
Throughout the whole meeting, you were the only person aware of the fact that Jisoo is not wearing anything underneath that dress. She send you a picture this morning. She is only one button away from standing naked in front of you.
You walk around her desk, sitting down in her comfortable leather chair. Jisoo knows how the two of you will spend your lunch break.
#ask#kpop#kpop smut#kpop girls#kpop gg#male reader#blackpink#blackpink jisoo#blackpink smut#kim jisoo#bp jisoo#jisoo smut#jisoo#authorhjk1shorts
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Disenchanted 3: Public Indecency
Male Reader x Karina
Tags: 3k, blackmail, cheat, creampie
The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.
Ever since the day at the carnival I sensed a change in Karina. It was almost as if her last few emotional links to Jaewook had finally fractured and torn. The consequence to this was our relationship, if you could call it that became stronger.
Karina was less concerned about being married, her go to line anytime we were about to part take in anything remotely physical. It got to the point that she removed her wedding ring every time we indulged ourselves in satisfying our desires for one another. Jaewook on the other hand began falling deeper and deeper into a downward spiral, we met at least once a week to talk through his issues with Karina. Every time his solutions for fixing his marriage became more and more desperate.
“I don’t know how long we can go on like this.” Jaewook said, as we sat at a random bar off the side of the highway.
“It feels like our marriage has turned into a set of a show, like it’s all smiles and waves for the public, but in private, we go our separate ways.” Jaewook followed up.
I sat back, knocking down a shot of whisky, placing my hands on his shoulders.
“Give her more time, it must be tough for both of you.” I replied.
Jaewook shrugged his shoulders, a solitary tear falling down his cheeks.
“We haven’t had sex in weeks, her answers are cold, I dunno how I can fix this...what do I do?” He asked, eyes pleading for an answer.
Hearing this, jabbed sharply at my conscience as it was only a few hours ago that Karina and I had fucked in her car after she dropped the kids off to school. I still had her peach-colored lipstick marks smeared along the length of my cock after sucked me to completion, taking my pent up load down her married throat. It was becoming her thing, swallowing was once a taboo, a no no, but ever since we got together, having me finish in her mouth had always hit the right spot. It gave me a sense of pride, knowing she only swallowed me, only my load satiated her hunger. Jaewook and I polished off another few rounds before I called him a cab to take him home. The situation was getting untenable in the Lee household, only pushing Karina further into my arms, it was the perfect situation form me yet little did I know, things were going to get much more complicated.
—
“Hey, so I had a chat with corporate, and they have green us the green light to roll some sample products out at the local businesses.” Nayoung said, handing me the paperwork granting us more budget for the final push marketing our new lines.
“Hmmm that is a great news...I was thinking, maybe we could do something along the lines of nature, maybe draw upon the ecological and environmentally friendly products we have.” I replied.
“I will run it past the team and get back to you.” Nayoung said with a smile before we heard a knock at the door.
It was Karina, her hair wrapped neatly in a bun, wearing a striking pink number, accentuating her flawless toned legs.
“Morning team.” She said smiling.
“Just spoke to Yeonjun outside, good work on securing more funds for our new lines. I was thinking perhaps, marketing some at the local aquarium, drawing upon our environmental packaging and natural ingredients. They have a save the ocean exhibit on at the moment.” Karina said.
Nayoung looked at me with a smile.
“Looks like you have got your answer Boss.” Nayoung said.
Karina looked at me a little perplexed.
“I was just saying we should link our products up with our local businesses, hammering down on our eco-friendly appeal.” I said smiling.
“Great minds.” Replied Karina, laughing.
“Great...team day it is.” I said.
“Gather the troops, maybe we can all go down there, perhaps get some contacts, throw some ideas around.” I replied.
“You free Karina? You can be our secret weapon in getting them to potentially work with us.” I said.
“Are you planning in using me to further your professional career.” She replied smirking.
“You hit the nail right on the head.” I replied, grabbing my coat and walking towards her.
Nayoung was outside with Sohye and Yeonjun getting ready to go. I took the opportunity to peck Karina on the lips quickly, getting another hit of her womanly scent.
“Minho! People...” She startled.
“Might see...” I finished, kissing her again causing Karina to break out in a smile.
“Cmon, let’s go.” I said, opening the door and leading us out.
The local aquarium was only ten minutes away. The entire walk, Sohye and Nayoung updated Karina on various ideas they had on ways to spread our new lines on social media. I caught Yeonjun checking Karina out on a number of occasions, his eyes flickering towards her long slender legs as we reached our destination. I couldn’t blame him she was a very attractive woman. Nevertheless, I felt myself grow ever more protective over her, as I slowly began to realize, what we had was more than just the physical, I was actually falling for her completely.
My musings of how deep my relationship with Karina was, were quickly interrupted by the murmuring of the public around us. She had been recognized and approached by a number of fans asking for her autograph and picture. Karina dealt with it like a pro, smiling and stopping for photos while I flagged the manager. We spoke for a few moments regarding our impromptu visit and plans we had. The brief chat actually going better than I expected as he invited Karina and I to discuss our ideas in more detail. Flagging down Nayoung, I gave her the company card and told her to take the team out for lunch while Karina and I talked to the manager of the aquarium for a bit longer. He seemed, not surprisingly infatuated with Karina’s beauty, nodding and agreeing with everything she said. It took around fifteen minutes flat to organize a small event in the early part of next week to coincide with the finale of their save the Oceans exhibit.
“And that is why I brought you...” I said, whispering in Karina’s ear.
She smiled, slapping me on the arm as we finished up the meeting.
“Do you guys want me to show you around, we have special piece we are doing on Sea Turtles at the moment, not available for the public yet.” The manager asked hopefully.
Karina paused, looking at me.
“Sure.” I said, seeing Karina glare her eyes at me.
“Was this not meant to be a team day?” Karina said, whispering in my ear.
“Nayoung can look after them, besides, I told them to go around and get some lunch, we can all meet up after.” I replied, as we followed the manager around to the back of the complex.
The rumble of the public gradually dissipated to a low murmur as we made our way into a large open space, surrounded my glass screens, behind which was an endless volume of blue. Giant sea turtles floated gently by, as if waving to us as they circled upwards to the surface flanked by numerous colorful fish zipping effortlessly in and out of the artificial coral reefs.
“This is it!” The manager said proudly.
His eyes still glued to Karina as she stared at the beautiful creatures swimming in the deep.
“So when is this exhibit open?” Karina asked in wonder.
“About two weeks, you guys are the first to see it.” He said smiling.
I could see his eyes travel the length of her body the moment she turned around before his visual perversions were disrupted by a loud bang. It came from the main area down the hallway, with some load shouts. It sounded like there was a bit of a scuffle going down from the sounds of the screaming.
“Shit...what now?” The manager said, in frustration.
“Guys...have a look around and come back the way we came...my team will be in contact with you later this week to tidy up the details.” He said.
“It was nice to meet you...both of you.” He followed up, his face showing disappointment at having to leave the company of the once famous Idol.
We watched him leave before sighing in relief.
“He had such the hots for you Karina!” I said chuckling.
“I could feel his eyes on me every time I turned around...it felt- ughh a little creepy.” She said with a frown.
“Why...does it make you jealous when other guys check me out?” Karina asked closing the gap, gently smiling.
“A little...” I replied, kissing her lips.
“That is kinda cute.” She said kissing me back.
“I know right, it’s a problem the jealousy that is, it causes this really bad pent up tension you know.” I replied sarcastically.
“Oh...really.” She said raising her eyebrows.
“Don’t- don’t even say it mister.” Karina said, placing her fingers on my lips.
I looked at her suggestively, wrapping my hands around her waist as I eased her gently onto the glass of the aquarium.
“Minho...seriously...people...might...uhm...see...ughh...us.” She replied, her voice fading into light moans as my hands caressed her tight body.
“Let’s not pretend you don’t secretly like it...” I replied, kissing her down her body as my hands drifted up her dress.
“I do...ughh but- ohh god...that feels- good.” She replied, her pussy creaming in my palm.
“Just a quick...pump and dump.” I said with a smirk.
“A what...? who do you think you are talking to?” Karina said going bright red.
I kissed her full lips, biting down on her lower lip as I continued feeling her up under her dress.
“Shit...seriously- we...ughhh...might...unhh...get...caught...” Karina moaned.
My hand continuing to squeeze and massage her rapidly dampening pussy, causing her to adjust her stance to allow me better access to her burning sex.
“Maybe- ughh…maybe- a quick...pump.” She whispered breathlessly smacking my arm smirking, as she eased her legs open for me, the pleasure emanating from her slit causing a long groan to leave her lips.
Her purring was getting louder as I pierced her wet folds with my fingers, stroking her deep inside her womanly cavern. She ran her fingers through my hair, gripping my head tightly as I slung one of her legs over my shoulders, pushing her standing leg onto her tip toes. My tongue buried into the far reach depths of her married cunt as she flexed her walls around my face, creaming profusely over my mouth.
“Minho- quick…I need you…inside me...” Karina moaned impatiently, her need to be filled spilling out at the surface, rocking her head back and shutting her eyes.
I gave her folds one long lick, the drool from her pussy now forming thick strands on my lips as I hoovered up her sex for the final time.
“I thought...you were afraid of getting caught?” I said, raising my eyebrows as I slipped my drenched fingers from her glistening slit.
“Ughhh- fuck...I still…am, ohh…i can’t believe I’m letting you do this to me...” Karina replied, her eyes now filling with lust.
“Do you want me to stop?” I asked, petting her throbbing clit with my lips.
“Don’t you dare!” Karina, replied gritting her teeth and pulling me up to my feet.
“You want it?” I asked, taking her slippery tongue into my mouth and sucking down hard.
I could feel the vibrations of Karina groaning into my mouth, spreading her legs for me as I hiked up her dress.
“I love it...” She replied, kissing me back and wrapping her left leg around my waist.
Her hands were searching down my torso, fumbling for my zipper as we kissed deeply, our tongues clashing, exchanging spit as she finally set me free. My cock springing out from my trousers, the top of my shaft rubbing tantalizingly along the bottom of her sex. I could feel the warmth of her slit through her now soaked underwear, a mixture of her sensual cream and my spit coating my length as I rubbed up against her.
“Put it in...” Karina whispered, rolling her head into my hands as I supported her upper back in my right arm.
It was a moment of raw passion as we locked eyes, her mouth agape as I thrust my hips forward, piercing her wet folds with my cock. There was no time to take her underwear off I just wanted to be in her, as deep and as hard as I could, fucking my length up to the hilt till I bottomed out inside her precious pussy. Karina was slick, her hands clawing at my back as we found our rhythm, each pump of my dick bringing her further off the ground as her standing leg struggled to reach the floor.
“Karina...you feel so fucking good...” I moaned into her hear.
“Ughhh- keep going...just...like- that.” She replied, eyes shut tight as I nailed her against the glass.
All you could hear each time I penetrated her married cunt were the slaps of our flesh and a deep thud of her rear slamming hard against the aquarium wall. The coolness of the glass rubbing on her back side as I continuously stuffed her with my meat, stretching her tight pussy with my girth as my tip smashed up on her cervix, deep within her womb.
Karina scratched at my back, her breath now ragged as she was losing control, I could feel the walls of her cunt gradually intensify its grip on my straining cock as I pierced her slick folds. The cream from her cunt now dripping down my thighs as I fucked her full of my cock in the dimly lit aquarium.
“Fuckk...deeper- fuck...me...deeper...” Karina whispered hurriedly in my ear.
She was close, her body was tensing as I cradled both arms around her upper back, protecting the back of her head from what was about to happen.
“You want it deep baby?” I asked, my eyes burning with desire.
She nodded, biting her lip as her orgasm began to build.
“Hold on...” I said, kissing her deeply one more time as the brunette braced her core.
Karina knew what was coming, opening her thighs wider for me to allow for my deeper strokes. Gripping the back of her head I mercilessly pumped my dick deep inside her cunt, assaulting her married pussy with my invading cock as I stuffed her wanting womb with my meat.
“ughh...anhh...fuckk...” Karina screamed, her wails reverberating off the glass as I pummeled her cunt for all I was worth.
“Karina...I can’t hold on much...much longer...” I said, my breath now haggard as I continued to pump her.
“Fuck...unghh- inside...cum…inside me.” Karina moaned, now finding it hard to catch her breath as I began to creampied her inside.
It was like breaking a dam, as a river of warm sticky spunk flowed from my tip, seeding Karina’s married pussy. Spurt after spurt coated her pink womb as her cunt walls sucked on my shaft like a hoover, her thighs shaking as we climaxed simultaneously. Holding me close in her grasp, she swayed her hips forward, fucking more of my spasming cock into her tight cavern, milking my meat to completion as I pumped her full of my pent up sperm. Our sweaty bodies slowed in tempo, my twitching dick still buried inside her as I lowered her legs back onto the floor, my warm sperm leaking from her slit and trickling down her toned thighs as we kissed deeply, my hips thrusting one last time to make sure she took all my load inside her womb.
In the thralls of passion, I thought I spotted another person’s reflection in the glass, turning around in a shock but to no avail.
“What...what’s the matter?” Karina asked breathlessly.
She continued to rock her hips, not letting me disengage as the she reveled in the feeling of my seed swimming around inside her.
“Nothing...thought I saw something that’s all.” I replied, still gathering my thoughts.
“I feel so full...you came a lot” she said smirking as I slipped my member from her depths.
A stream of my cum came pouring out, mixed with her womanly grool and cream. The milky substance leaving a trail of destruction down her legs as the rest splashed on the concrete floor.
“You are so bad...” She smiled seductively, hitting my arm.
She was right, we were a very risky pair indeed, seeking out dangerous situations to satisfy our darkest desires.
“Hey, are you guys still here?” The manager’s voice called out from behind us.
Startled, I quickly buttoned my cock back into my trousers, handing Karina a tissue to wipe up the mess I made down her inner legs. Slightly red faced I turned around waving to him as I approached.
“Lovely turtles.” I said, motioning to the deep blue.
Karina joining me by my side, like nothing happened smiled and thanked the man for showing us around. It seemed to work as he flushed red showing us back to the entrance. She still had a smudge of my spunk on her inner leg which she quickly dispatched before the manager noticed, taking it between her pink lips and swallowing it down discretely.
“Your friends have been waiting a while, they are just outside.” He said pointing to the door.
We shook hands once more and departed, meeting the team outside.
“Where were you guys?” Nayoung asked.
“Eh the manager was a bit of a fan, he insisted in showing us around the new exhibit, we figured it was the least we could do for allowing us to market some of our products here.” Karina replied smiling.
Nayoung smiled giving me a small post it.
“Hajoon our director was here, he left with Yeonjun and went back to the office, he says he wants to discuss something with you guys.” Nayoung said slightly concerned.
“Is everything ok?” She asked.
“I assume its to update him on our progress, but why did Yeonjun go?” I asked.
“Dunno Boss, they were talking about a proposal of some sort.” Nayoung said shrugging her shoulders.
Karina looked at me slightly confused as we made our way back to work. Back inside, Karina went ahead to Hajoon’s office while I fixed my sweaty appearance, washing my face with cold water to gather my thoughts. When I knocked on the director’s door and entered, Karina was already sitting down, her expression looked worried for some reason.
“Please, sit Minho.” Hajoon said, pointing at the chair next to Karina.
Yeonjun was sitting on the side his face slightly piqued at my entrance, taking a seat on the cool leather chair.
Hajoon sighed, pushing out a phone on the table.
“It has come to my attention, that a senior manager and an important member of the board have been...partaking in less than professional activities.” He said.
I gulped hard, sweat now forming on my brow as he continued to speak ushering Yeonjun over to us. Yeonjun air played the phone to the tv monitor on the wall, pressing play. It was hard to make out at first, but when the video came into focus there was no denying what we were watching. It was Karina and I, fucking in the aquarium, you could clearly see her face resting on my shoulder, moaning into my neck as I was thrusting my cock deep inside her.
Hajoon’s face was oddly stoic, like we were in a business deal as he wrapped his fingers.
“You both know what this means, if this was to get out.” He said.
“That sounds like a threat...” I replied, my anger building as I turned my attention to Yeonjun.
“Seriously, leverage?” I said to Yeonjun, who remained looking at the floor.
“Don’t blame him, he was in the right to come to me.” Hajoon said.
Karina was sitting quietly next to me, her hands pressed together as we both listened to how our fates would unravel.
“So, what now?” I asked curtly.
“I can make this go away, delete this video and we can all go about our lives.” Hajoon replied, his voice taking on a sinister tone.
“What’s the catch...?” I asked.
“The catch is… a night with me.” Karina replied, her face flushed in embarrassment.
“What? No, absolutely not.” I replied.
Hajoon smiled, silently surveying us both, he had us dead to rights as he wrote something on a piece of paper.
“As you both may know, I am stepping down soon, the rumors are true.” Hajoon said.
“Now, I like you, I really do Karina, you are hardworking and great for the company... you are also very beautiful.” He followed up.
“I was actually going to offer this in exchange for...your body, but Yeonjun with his evidence had made it too good not to accelerate.” Hajoon said calmly.
“When I retire, I will transfer my shares to you Karina, giving you 30% of the company...in return for a night with you.” He said.
“As part of this deal, Yeonjun will also want a night with you, in return, he will delete the video once we finish… our transaction.” Hajoon said coldly.
I nearly punched both of them right there, before Karina grasped my hand.
“Don’t...” She said exasperated.
“I’ll do it... I’ll do it as long as you are there with me.” She said, a tear tricking down her face.
There was a deft silence in the room, I had no idea how to react to that before Hajoon spoke up.
“See, an amicable solution.” Hajoon said.
“After this Yeonjun, I am firing your ass.” I said, my voice laced in venom.
He shrugged his shoulders smirking.
“It’s totally worth it.” He said, pointing at the television as Karina and I fucked on screen.
“See you both soon...” Hajoon said, showing us the door, a wry smile spread on his wrinkly old face...
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when you call him your husband
「pairing」 : enha ot7 x fem!reader
「word count」 : 4.1k
「synopsis」 : in which you call them your husband instead of your boyfriend...
「genre」 : fluff, established relationship, headcanon
「warnings」 : kissing, petnames (baby, love, princess...), just a lot of fluffiness
「notes」 : this is my compensation for the emotional damage that I may have caused some of you after posting the second part of tmh 😭 I hope y'all enjoy this cutesy scenario!!
Heeseung •°. *࿐
you had seen the trend of the girls calling their boyfriends their husbands for shits and giggles all over your for you page, and you knew you wanted to try it. already imagining what heeseung’s reaction would be and suddenly felt super giddy. so you ran and told your friends all about your idea, and they encouraged you, already knowing that your boyfriend would love it. you had everything planned, knowing that you would do it when you went out to lunch with him this weekend.
but then you saw the viral video of the guy who rudely cut his girlfriend off, telling her that he wasn’t her husband, and doubt started to cloud your mind. what if heeseung reacts the same way? or what if he just laughed at you because he thought it was stupid?
so when you told your friends that you weren’t going to do it anymore, they asked you why until you finally spilled the reason behind your hesitance. your best friend just shook her head with a small laugh.
“girl, that man is far too lovesick; there ain’t no way he’s gonna react like that.” she reassured you, and the other agreed with her rather quickly.
“yeah, and that guy in the video was just an asshole, you can tell.” another of your friends added in, causing you to laugh before saying that she was right.
nodding with a newfound confidence, you told them that you were going to do it, and they all cheered, causing you to laugh. your best friend then grabbed your attention once more with a reassuring smile.
“and if, for some very unlikely reason, he does act like that, my door is always open, and we can eat some ice cream.” she patted your hand, and you nodded again before telling her thank you.
when the day came around that you went to pick up heeseung, you kept telling yourself that everything was going to be okay. the two of you had already talked about just picking up food through the drive-thru and going to eat at the park, seeing as it was a nice day.
“hey baby.” heeseung greeted you as he opened the passenger door of your car, bending down to give you his cheeky smile, “are you sure you wanna drive? I’m more than happy to.”
you couldn’t help but smile at his offer, but you shook your head, “it’s okay, hee, you’re always driving; I got it this time.”
heeseung just chuckled before taking his seat in the passenger seat, situating it so his long legs could fit in front of him before turning towards you. he leaned over the middle console waiting for you to lean forward, which you did not too long after capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. pulling away, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes playfully at the wide grin that took your place on his lips.
“you ready?” you asked him, and he just hummed before sitting back in the seat, his hand going to your thigh.
it didn’t take too long before you made it to the restaurant; pulling into the drive thru you made a quick decision of what you wanted before going to the speaker. the worker greeted you, and you told them what you wanted before looking over at heeseung, who was still looking at the menu.
“just get me whatever you got, baby,” he told you before sitting back and returning to the game he was playing on his phone. you shook your head, a smile tugging on your lips as you turned towards the speaker once more, ready to put your plan into action.
“then my husband wants the same thing,” you told the worker; however, heeseung had stopped playing his game to look over at you, a goofy grin adorning his face. after you made sure that your order was correct, you sat back in your seat to move forward, sparing him a quick glance, “what?” you tried your best to act clueless despite your heart racing under your ribcage.
heeseung just sat there, silent, letting your words fully sink in, the smile never leaving his lips. however, his silence was starting to worry you even if he was wearing a humongous smile. you swallowed thickly as you paid for the food and took the drinks.
he waited until you finished handing him the food before taking your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours, and placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, “husband, huh? I like the sound of that.”
Jongseong •°. *࿐
you weren’t entirely sure why you were here, to begin with. your friends had begged and begged you to come to the stupid class reunion, saying that it would be a lot of fun to catch up with one another and that they could finally meet jay, the man that you had been dating for three years. reluctantly, you agreed and talked to jay about going. thankfully, he didn’t mind going as long as you were with him.
however, now you are starting to regret your decision to bring your boyfriend along with you. every single time that you turned your back, even if it was for just a split second, you would turn to see yet another female flirting with him. jay, of course, rejected their advances, pointing over to you, but they just couldn’t seem to catch a hint.
your friends were sure that you were bound to blow a fuse if you turned around to catch another girl trying to touch up on jay. so they grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to them, causing you to look at them with a raised eyebrow.
“girl, you look like you’re about to behead the next person that so much as looks in his direction.” one of them teased, but you nodded softly before saying that you just might at this point.
laughing nervously, your other friend grabs your wrist before placing something in the palm of your hand. confused, you look down only to become even more confused when you see that she has given you a ring.
“put this on and go tell them to leave your husband alone,” she instructed you, motioning to the ring.
so you did just that. handing her your drink, you slipped the ring onto your ring finger before turning and making your way back to jay, who was standing by the drink table, trying to ignore the four other women who had started to surround him.
“hey princess,” jay greeted you as you walked up to him, wrapped your arms around his, and placed a kiss on his cheek. sensing that you were up to something, jay just watched with an amused gleam in his eyes.
you looked over at the other women, who were either glaring at you or raising an eyebrow. offering them a fake sweet smile, you grabbed jay’s hand, making a show of the ring on your finger before tilting your head slightly.
“thank you, ladies, for keeping my husband company while I was away, but I got it from here,” you told them, sas lacing your tone. none of them gave you any backtalk and walked away, not trying to draw attention. jay bit back the smirk as he watched you tell the women off, loving when your jealousy seeped through.
once they were out of sight, jay pulled his arm from your grasp, causing you to look over at him, getting ready to ask him what was wrong. but he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. he then took your left hand into his, looking at the ring that sat on your finger.
“hmm…” he hummed, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss your palm, “why don’t we replace this with a real one?”
Jaeyun •°. *࿐
it had always been jake’s thing to go around calling you ‘wife’ or ‘wifey’. he would do it any chance he could because one, he loved seeing how flustered you would get, the tips of your ears turning cherry red. two because one day he planned on making you his wife, so why not just get used to saying it now. you, however, never really went around calling him anything more than your boyfriend or soulmate if you were feeling sentimental, but after he called you his wife in front of practically the whole restaurant for your anniversary, you planned on getting him back. so you waited until it was game night and all of his friends were over to make your move.
friday nights had become game night for your boyfriend and his friends. Of course, you were never excluded. jake was far too clingy to not have you involved, so you always found yourself either perched on the couch next to him or joining in on their countless rounds of games.
most of the time, you would always cook dinner for everyone. However, tonight, after a long week of exams and work, you didn't feel like cooking, so you just decided to order take-out. after running it by the guys and everyone agreeing, you stood to grab your phone that you had charging in the kitchen. grabbing the device, you couldn’t help the smirk that was tugging on your lips as you dialed the number.
whenever the restaurant answered, you started taking all of the guys’ orders, relaying them to the guy on the other side of the phone to make sure that he had heard correctly. after you got all of the guys’ orders, you moved over to your boyfriend, trying to conceal the shit-eating grin that was threatening to spread on your lips.
“babe, did you want your usual?” you asked, standing next to the couch where he was sitting with a controller in his hands; he spared you a quick glance and said a quick ‘yes, please’ before going back to the game. “then my husband would like…” you spoke into the phone as you turned around to walk away, your lips curling inward to keep from giggling when you heard the sounds of the ‘game over’ screen.
“yeah, her hubby would like his usual.” heeseung started to tease the younger male, a smirk on his lips as jake’s face started to turn red. jake just waved him off before setting his controller off to the side so he could catch you before you got too far.
you barely got a chance to walk away before you were being pulled back, a small sound of surprise leaving your lips. jake wore a huge smile on his lips as he held you close even after you sent him a small glare. apologizing to the lady you finished up your order before hanging up and looking at jake.
“your husband?” his voice was slightly higher in pitch as if he was trying to keep from fangirling. you just smiled before kissing his cheek and trying to get up, but he wouldn’t let you. “I wanna hear you say it again.”
your face started to heat up as you felt the guys staring at the two of you, your plan completely backfiring, but the smile that adorned jake’s face was more than enough compensation for you.
Sunghoon •°. *࿐
you walked alongside sunghoon as you both made it to the ice rink. it was well into the winter time, but neither of you had had the time to go out and skate like you do every year, but as soon as both of your schedules had cleared you made it your mission to go. so now you had your fingers intertwined with his as he stuffed your combined hands into the pocket of his hoodie.
“it feels like we haven’t done this in forever,” you sigh, basking in the cool night breeze while sunghoon looks over at you, admiring the way your eyelashes lay on your cheekbones that were a light shade of red due to the cold.
he pulls your hands out of his pocket before bringing them to his lips to place a gentle kiss on your fingertip, causing you to look up at him, “I’m sorry we haven’t been able to spend much time together, my love.”
your heart swelled at his actions, causing a soft smile to spread on your lips; you then suddenly thought back to something that your co-worker had told you. she had watched quite a few videos of girls calling their boyfriends ‘husband,’ and she thought that their reactions were the sweetest thing in the world. then she asked you if you had ever called sunghoon, your husband, just to see his reaction, and you told her no, but then the thought of what his reaction might be started to haunt your mind. you wanted to know what his reaction would be but were a little worried that he wouldn’t quite catch it.
looking around, you noticed that there weren’t very many people here tonight, “it doesn’t look too busy.” you observed as you walked over to the skate counter, and sunghoon nodded before looking around the rink himself.
“hi, what size skates for you guys tonight?” the girl on the other side of the counter asked, a sweet smile adorning her lips. You returned it before telling her your shoe size, then looking over at sunghoon, who was still looking around, seeming to have gotten lost in his own world.
swallowing the nervous lump in your throat, you decided now would be as good of a time as any to try the little ‘prank’ out, so you returned your gaze to the worker who was waiting patiently.
“and my husband is gonna need a size…” you told what size sunghoon had needed and the boy's head instantly turned towards you confused about whether or not he had just heard you correctly. his hand squeezing yours enough to gain your attention.
“what did you say?” he asked, his head tilting slightly, causing you to bite your tongue so you don’t lose composure.
“I just told her your shoe size.” you feigned confusion, copying his gesture.
however, sunghoon quickly shook his head, “no, no, not that, before that.” but before you could answer him, the worker came back with your skates, so you thanked her, handing sunghoon his before grabbing your own.
walking over to a bench, you went to sit down, but sunghoon stopped you, “you would want to marry me?” the genuine shock in his tone made your heart drop; had he really thought that you wouldn’t want to marry him?
you released his hand and sat your skates down before reaching up to cup his face in your hands. without another word, you pulled him down, kissing him softly. his fingers curled around your waist, pulling you closer to him just as you pulled away, your forehead resting against his.
“of course, I’d wanna marry you; don’t be so silly.” you smiled softly at him before kissing him once more, then pulled away to put your skates on, “now come on, let’s go skate.”
Sunoo •°. *࿐
it was friday and that meant that you were going to be doing your weekly review of the make-up products that you had used throughout the week. however, this week was going to be a little different; you were going to be doing sunoo’s make-up as a milestone reward for your followers. you had spent quite a bit of time on tiktok and just happened to see the videos where all of the girls were calling their boyfriend’s ‘husband’ and recording their reaction. they all made you giggle, and you just knew you had to try it on sunoo, and this just seemed to be the perfect time for it.
you were in the middle of setting up the camera for the video when there was a knock at the door before sunoo peeked his head through the crack, “hey love, I brought some fruit.” you couldn’t help but smile seeing the small bowl of fruit that was in his hand.
“thank you, sun,” you motioned for him to join you on the ground in front of the camera, “come sit. I’m almost done setting up.”
sunoo happily made his way over to you and sat down, his legs crossed underneath him, and handed you the bowl. his hand then found your knee as you sat the fruit down on the table in front of you before grabbing a blueberry and popping it into your mouth.
“are you ready?” you asked him, and he nodded with a bright smile on his face. you had to fight back the huge grin that was threatening to pull on your lips as you reached forward to turn the camera on.
sitting back down on your knees, you smiled at the camera, “hello everyone! as mentioned on my twitter, I am going to be doing my husband’s makeup.”
a look of shock morphed on sunoo’s face as he looked away from the camera lens to look at you, “husband?” he exclaimed, causing you to jump slightly and look over at him, trying your best to not smile.
“what?” you asked, holding back a giggle when he looked from you to the camera lens before pointing to himself.
“are you talking about me?” he asked with a cheeky smile on his face causing you to giggle.
“yes who else would I be talking about?” your cheeks had started to hurt from smiling so hard as he looked at you in pure astonishment.
“you,” sunoo pointed at you before pointing down to his hand, “marry me?”
“yes,” you laughed, glancing over to the camera once more before letting your eyes fall back on him, “that’s what makes you my husband.”
sunoo looked at you for a second before holding his left hand out to you, “I do,” he looked around the room, “I just wish the scenery was a little bit better, but I do.” you couldn’t help but playfully roll your eyes at the sassiness in his tone before reaching over to your vanity to grab a ring.
sitting back down, you held your hand out for him, and sunoo happily placed his hand into yours, allowing you to slip the ring on his ring finger. you then placed a kiss on his knuckles before looking up to capture the bright, sassy smile that played on his lips.
you couldn’t help but laugh as he grabbed your hand to pull you closer, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. "don’t worry, my love. I’ll get you one as well,” he whispered sweetly, relishing in the blush that dusked your cheeks as you continued your recording.
Jungwon •°. *࿐
whenever you had gotten a message from your best friend telling you about a trend that she had seen floating around, you knew that it would be the perfect prank to pull on jungwon. you knew that it could end one of two ways, either he would get shy and just cling himself onto you for the rest of the night, or he would get smug and start teasing you relentlessly. though you would be fine with either of those outcomes, you hoped that he would opt for the first.
you and your friend hadn’t talked in a long time, so you decided to call each other over the weekend. you decided that it would be the perfect opportunity to pull the prank, seeing as she has yet to meet your boyfriend.
so when the weekend rolled around, you told her to call during the time that you knew jungwon would be on his way home from the gym. you sat down at the dining table talking to her, catching each other up on your current life events before you heard the front door opening.
“is that him?” your friend asked, muffling her giggles when you placed your finger over your lips, but you nodded nonetheless. jungwon walked into the kitchen with a smile spreading on his face when he saw you sitting at the table, his dimples on display.
“hey baby, how was the gym?” you asked him, a small smile adorning your lips as he sat his water bottle down on the counter before walking over to you.
“it was good,” he leaned down, kissing the top of your head before glancing at your phone screen. "what are you up to?”
you moved your phone up enough for him to see your friend, who waved at him, “remember I was calling my friend this weekend?” he nodded, standing behind you, his hands resting on your shoulders.
“who’s this?” your friend asked in mock curiosity as she bit the inside of her cheek, and you had to bite back a smirk of your own.
you looked up at jungwon for a moment before going back to your phone, “this is jungwon, my husband.”
jungwon’s eyes widened in shock as he looked down at you, but you just continued your conversation as if it were a normal day. he had been fully prepared for you to say boyfriend, but he definitely wasn’t prepared for the word ‘husband’ to leave your lips.
you couldn’t help the silly smile that pulled on your lips when jungwon wrapped his arms around your shoulders, burying his face in the crook of your neck. you could tell he was flustered by how warm his cheek was against your skin.
“I’m your husband?” his voice came out in a hushed tone against your skin, causing a shiver to run down your spine, but you just hummed, leaning further into him before reaching up to run your fingers through his slightly damp hair as you continued your conversation with your friend while he clung to you.
Ni-ki •°. *࿐
it was saturday night, and you were spinning around in your gaming chair, waiting for riki to send you a message letting you know that he was ready to hop on. you had made a plan to livestream a new game with riki for all of your subscribers to watch because that had practically begged you to make another video with your boyfriend. you were almost sure that your subscribers liked him more than you.
just as you were getting ready to grab your phone to message him first, his name popped up on your screen, causing a wide smile to erupt on your face. quickly opening your phone, you went to your and riki’s chat, seeing that he had said he was ready to go with a little sunglasses emoji. laughing softly, you moved closer to your desk and grabbed your headset before calling riki.
it didn’t even finish ringing for the second time when riki picked up, “hey baby.” his voice flowed through your headset, causing a smile to pull your lips even wider.
you greeted him before pulling up the game and making sure everything for the live stream was ready, “ready to go?” you asked him, and you could hear him hum from the other side. taking that as a green light, you started the stream.
after quickly doing your intro, you waited for more people to join the stream before starting the game. a laugh fell from your lips as you read the comments asking if riki was still going live with you.
“don’t worry, guys. riki is joining us today. he’s actually here right now.” you clicked a few buttons before letting riki pop up on the screen next to you.
then came the influx of comments about how cute he was and how he played games so well, or there were the occasional few comments about how cute the two of you were. smiling, you answered a few questions. unbeknownst to you, riki was watching you through the screen, missing the comment that popped up about someone claiming him as their ‘husband’. rolling your eyes playfully, you situated yourself in your seat before speaking.
“he’s my husband, actually.” your tone was playful, but your words had completely caught the boy off guard.
riki could feel his ears burning red as he tried his best to remain stoic as he watched you move to start the game. his eyes flickered over to the comments, seeing a few about how they would fight you for his attention, and he could tell that they were starting to annoy you, so he tried to push what you had said to the side
“let’s start the game, ya?” he cleared his throat before letting his eyes flicker over to you, and you nodded, getting ready to hit the start button as soon as riki was in the lobby. however, riki had completely missed the small smirk that was pulling on the corner of your lip, wanting nothing more than to tease him, knowing that you had made him slightly flustered.
@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.
#♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ :𝓴𝓪𝔂 𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮𝓼: :;#yang jungwon#lee heeseung#park jongseong#jay park#sim jaeyun#jake sim#park sunghoon#kim sunoo#nishimura riki#niki#jungwon x reader#heeseung x reader#jay x reader#jongseong x reader#jake x reader#jaeyun x reader#sunghoon x reader#sunoo x reader#niki x reader#riki x reader#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enha#enha x reader#enhypen jugnwon#enhypen heeseung#enhypen jay#enhypen jongseong#enhypen jake
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negroni ✩
art donaldson x female reader
↳ summary: After winning against Patrick, Art takes the night off to grab a few drinks at the Ritz Carlton lobby bar. There, he meets a profound admirer.
OR
Things go wrong with the girl who bought him a Negroni.
↳ warnings: fingering (minors dni), age gap (reader is 22), manipulation, infidelity, angst towards end.
↳ extra warnings: english is not my first language pookies + my first fic + yall I'm messyy so I added drama out of nowhere. if u read this I love u thank u for giving me a chance
word count: 4.9k
✩
"Excuse me, no smoking."
The blonde man lifts his chin to encounter a young waitress warning him about the cigarette dangling off his mouth. His middle and index fingers immediately approach the cigarette and gradually pull the filtered end from between his lips. "Sorry." Art frankly apologizes.
The waitress's purposeful avoidance of directly looking at him makes Art borderline giggle. He can't help but discreetly give her a comprehensive look; the girl is attractive, with velvety skin that impersonates caramel and peaceful facial features. He shushes all the pushy thoughts resembling the waitress to his wife staying upstairs. He is not that desperate, plus, everyone knows he is married to the Tashi Duncan.
Art audibly clears his throat and articulates before the young woman strolls away, "Can you get me a Negroni, please?" He requests, showcasing a courteous smile. The woman nods.
He didn't even realize when he positioned the cigarette between his lips. He had been anxiously waiting for an instance when he could be alone -at least since the match against Patrick. Tashi cheerfully agreed to let him descend to the lobby bar to grab a few drinks.
✩
Art had been attentively scanning his frame on the wide mirror and adjusting strands and strands of hair as he paid more attention to his hairstyle; his somber eyes descended from his impeccable hair to the unfastened buttons of his seersucker shirt, revealing a fraction of silk-like, gloomy skin from chest to lower stomach, his well-grooved muscles casting shadows under the bathroom's dim yellow lighting.
"I'm going out!" Art shouted from the bathroom as he fastened the remaining buttons of his shirt.
From the corner of his eye, he sensed Tashi approaching the bathroom doorframe and standing by it. Art tilted his head up to encounter Tashi, his wife, silently grinning, dressed in a beautiful pearl-white silk robe, "I won't be gone for more than an hour-
"It's fine," Tashi interrupted. "I'll watch a movie with Lily. We can talk about it later."
Art nodded. His eyes stared at her with minor fascination. Tashi couldn't figure out why, but the feral spark on Art's orbs evaporated. She walked away.
Art slightly opened his mouth to say something but suddenly cut himself off, lips slamming together. He didn't say anything. He allowed the slim figure of his wife to vanish from his eyesight. He authorized himself to go out alone for the first time in years and think about his relationship with Tashi and tennis -if, at this point, they were not equal. And his relationship with Patrick, of course.
After today, he felt things he hadn't felt in a while.
✩
An insistent tap on his shoulder provokes Art to flinch and abruptly land on earth again.
"Excuse me, Negroni..?" Another waiter says in a quivering voice—a statement rather than a question—hardly maintaining eye contact. He is holding a tiny round silver tray with a bloody-looking Negroni sitting on it.
Before the amateur waiter can shakily grasp the crystal glass to place it on Art's table, Art raises his arm and moves the Negroni himself. As soon as he places the glass on the marmol table's surface, his long fingers seize the thin wedge of orange embellishing the glass, bringing it to his lips and sucking on it instantly.
He doesn't realize that the one time he and the waiter are maintaining eye contact is while he sucks on a slice of orange -slowly.
"Thank you." Art says, dragging the wedge out of his mouth, detecting the scarcity of color on the waiter's facial canvas. "Why is he so pale?" Art thinks. The meddling stare from the waiter endures for maybe five seconds before Art frowns his eyebrows slightly in confusion; the poor guy nearly jogs away from Art's table.
Does he carry that much power over people? It has been long since Art calculatedly flirted with or attempted to gain someone's attention. To be accurate, since Tashi entered his life. He has officially lost the "open-to-the-public" charming spark and neglected his intrinsically flirty side.
But today, for some reason, he feels different than usual. Not that he is trying to test it...
The Ritz lobby bar is moderately quiet. Art peeks at a few travelers relaxing with their baggage as they sip cocktails in miniature glasses and couples drinking -"probably pre-gaming before a night out," Art assumes. His gaze disembarks over two guys in their premature 20s, brunette, and blonde, chuckling and vividly chitchatting about topics he can't overhear properly. Art is hooked to the scenario in front of him as he stares enthusiastically: it bitterly reminds him of his friendship with Patrick, whom he hasn't heard of since the match.
As he finds himself —once again— daydreaming about what once was, Art takes decent-sized sips of his Negroni, with his right hand hugging the crystal glass just right. He is sitting on one of the many hickory brown leather armchairs dispersed across the bar, manspreading as his left hand lays over his lap.
Suddenly, a personal reflection pops into his mind like a light bulb unexpectedly turning on; what is he doing? Sitting submerged in loneliness in a 5-star hotel lobby bar will not change anything. It simply won't. He would rather go back to the suite and have some pleasing fucking sleep. He is feeling tired, and confused, and depressed, and—
Well, If anything, people who recognize him could come and disturb his night.
Art locks eyesight with the first waiter wandering across his vision field; he pitches a writing motion with his hand and requests the bill. As the waiter walks in his direction, he chugs down the leftover sips of cocktail in the glass.
"Bill?" Another waiter wearing a burgundy uniform asks Art. The tennis player shakes his head up and down, murmuring a yes please, "Don't worry, on the house."
"I can afford it." Art stresses, with a robust sarcastic undertone tinting his voice tone while attempting to maintain the most benevolent smile on his catalog.
The waiter chuckles in exaggerated glee. "I know, Mr. Donaldson. Your bill has been cleared by another customer," he clarifies, standing in front of Art with the straightest stance and hands intertwined in the manifestation of hospitality. The waiter clears his throat, "Actually, by the young woman over there," and discreetly points his finger at the stools by the bar gantry.
Art's gaze dashes over to a woman standing by the bar gantry. He can only see her back, not her complete complexion. Although he has internally accepted this demeanor as improper, he allows his eyes to scan over the woman's silhouette freely, lingering a little longer on her legs. In the background, he can faintly attend to the waiter talking about hotel-specific branch issues and how stays such as his and Tashi's benefit the hotel's branding -isn't this the Ritz Carlton?
"Yes, I agree." Art blurts out as soon as he realizes the waiter has concluded his monologue, his gaze glued to the enigmatic female standing five meters away from him.
"Thank you, Mr. Donaldson. Have a great night." Just as Art opened his mouth to greet him in return, the waiter had already shifted on his feet to approach another table.
Art reevaluates what he is about to do. Should he greet her, thank her, or gently communicate how unmannered it can be to buy a married man a drink?
But also, what if it's an obsessed groupie attempting to instigate drama?
It doesn't matter. Buying Art Donaldson a drink is disrespectful. Literally everyone —quite literally everyone— who knows Donaldson knows he is married to Tashi Duncan!
Come on, a woman, unattended in a bar, buying me a drink? Art thinks.Of course, she has hidden intentions, he reassures himself. Art shifts on the armchair, resting his elbows on his knees, still pondering whether he should approach her.
Why isn't he simply disregarding this and walking away?
He hadn't felt so much excitement about something so childish in a while. It felt like being nineteen again. After hugging Patrick today, he sensed a heartwarming relief regarding Tashi cheating on him. But, on the other hand, he's a fucking human.
Fuck it. He just wants to chat with the girl and perhaps communicate that she shouldn't do that again. Right, that's it.
Art picks up his belongings and strides towards her.
"Hey, sorry..." Art speaks, dragging the stool beside the woman and grinning warily at her. His soothing, recognizable tone of voice instantly captures her attention.
Art expected many things, but not a drop-dead gorgeous woman. A girl. She looks...young— not underage kind of young, but unquestionably not over twenty-five. On the other hand, as a well-known tennis player, he's had plenty of exquisite-looking women begging for attention; Tashi herself is stunning. Somehow, this woman left his lungs tightening for a sizzling second, which is concerning.
Plus, her aroma. Jesus, the scent, Art thinks. He would continuously go weak on the knees when Tashi wore that damn tangy, dark cherry fragrance she had. He immediately identified the distinct smell.
"Mr. Donaldson, oh my god..." The girl's voice pitches high, and she extends her right hand in his stomach direction as if she had been rehearsing for this moment. "I didn't believe you would accept the drink," she adds enthusiastically.
Her voice is too harmonious for his ears.
Art stretches his hand and shakes hers. "Well, I didn't." Art retorts, unconsciously smirking at the girl's harmless bliss, "I was pretty much obligated to accept the free Negroni."
"Well, either way, I am honored," she says with a slight shrug and giggles, "Names Y/n; by the way, very nice to meet you, Mr. Donaldson. Big fan of yours"
"Nice to meet you too, Y/n," Art unpretentiously expresses. His facial expression goes abruptly blank as he realizes he might be snitching on himself. "Uh, Y/n, I don't wanna sound rude, but what you did... with the drink," he struggles to word it nicely, worrying about coming out as unpolite. He laboriously swallows as Y/n raises her eyebrows, expectant. "You shouldn't buy drinks to married men," he concludes.
Y/n lets out a gigantic gasp, "Oh my- this is so embarrassing," her hands fly over to her mouth, covering it in mortification, "I am so sorry, Mr. Donaldson-
"Please, call me Art," Art interrupts, a smirk rising on his face.
"Well, Art," Y/n corrects herself, now speaking with a mischievous undertone, still with an infectious grin plastered on her face. "I go to Stanford. I couldn't stop hearing about you —your skills. Well, I grew up in a household of tennis enthusiasts, and I, myself, am a tennis player. I just wanted to show my appreciation for what you've done for the tennis culture."
Art's cheeks feel hot. Heck, they are burning.
"Oh.." he mumbles, mainly to himself out of amazement.
"I would never, don't worry, Mr. Donaldson- I mean, Art." Y/n reassures, emphasizing the never. But as she justified herself, a sad half smile crooked on her plump lips, "I mean... No one can deny you are very handsome, but I am a respectful woman-"
He unmistakably heard the last sentence but will bypass it for his mental stability. "It's fine, Y/n." Again, he runs over her words, interrupting, "I should be apologizing; I don't want to come across as an entitled asshole."
For some reason, Art can't stop feeding the conversation. You are a fucking horndog, Art internally insults himself.
"Let me buy you a drink as an apology," Art says bluntly, requesting clearance but simultaneously demanding. Y/n, on the other hand, has her eyes set on the blonde man in front of her, both gazes perforating each other. "I mean, if you are of age.."
She giggles.
"Twenty-two. Took a gap year," the girl admits, "and I wouldn't mind a Negroni," she adds, now faking a nonchalant accent.
Y/n can hardly believe the circumstances she has put herself in. She observes the man standing before her, deftly moving from how he calls the server to how he licks his lips after ordering the Negroni. He's so fucking hot, she thinks. She had only seen him through flat screens and once attended one of the numerous lectures he gave back on campus.
But no, Y/n wasn't an obsessive stalker. Earlier that day, she had been at the New Rochelle Tennis Club with her father and the new newbie guy he was coaching —she can't even recall his name. Long story short, the guy had asked her on a date, and as a grandiose concurrency, Y/n had suggested the Ritz —they serve finger-licking cosmopolitans at their bar. It wasn't until she reached twenty minutes earlier by mistake that she contemplated bailing on her plans. Why? Because she laid eyes on the mouthwatering blonde man sitting by himself, ingesting a depressing ass-looking Negroni.
She knew it was a hit or miss. But she would rather miss if it came to the possibility of messing around with the man of her most soaked dreams.
Y/n's nostrils pleasingly burn as she inhales a warmish, spicy fragrance emanating from Art's clothes and skin. She can't dodge the impulse to frequently peek at the opening of his shirt, revealing milky skin. Her breathing becomes erratic just by fantasizing about him without the fucking seersucker shirt. She knows he's fucking ripped.
Y/n chews on the bottom of her lip anxiously, contemplating her words. "By the way, what you did today was insane."
Art arches a brow. "You mean playing tennis?"
"That wasn't even tennis; that was an entirely different game," Y/n responds as if Art had offended her. "It felt as if the court was entirely yours," she overpraises him, feeling rewarded by the minuscule giggles escaping from Art's lips.
Art feels his heart warm up at the familiar sentence choice. "It is not a big deal, just a good tennis match," he elucidates.
She rolls her eyes. "Sure... or maybe you are just too skilled for other players." Y/n softly laughs.
Art bits back the tiniest groan of frustration. He feels his dick hardening underneath the light-washed denim jeans he's wearing. He tries to comprehend if it is because of the sudden sensual undertone in her delicate voice, her unmistakable submissive look penetrated deep into her big eyes, or the fact that Tashi had not touched him below the hipline in months and turned him into a precocious motherfucker. Or it could be the alcohol making him horny. He hadn't noticed before how tight her clothing was —it took one swift glimpse at her body for Art to see her thighs spilling out of the hem of the strapless mini-dress. It took another one to realize she was now gently caressing his arm.
Art was convinced there was nothing left to wipe the carefully crafted agitated expression from his face. "Could be, yeah," he says, subsequently coughing to avoid strangling on his own spit. "I don't want to be seen as some kind of God."
"Well, you move like one," Y/n affirms, chuckling at her own filthy sentence, her fingers playfully stirring the brand-new Negroni sitting on the bar table with the cocktail straw. She licks her lips, "You know what I mean."
Bullshit. There is no way this girl doesn't want to fuck.
She dodges eye contact, but there is a peculiar shift in the air, and a smirk exponentially extends her lips.
"I know what you mean." Art snaps back, incapable of looking away from the cocktail straw now entrapped in between her glossy lips.
His muscles and head feel more lightweight, but his ocean eyes remain entirely tied to her outline.
Their bodies have shuffled negligibly closer—inappropriately closer. Art senses warmness filling his face from the subtle friction of their knees: the coarse texture of his denim and Y/n's smooth, bare skin.
From her peripheral vision, Y/n glimpses a security guard patrolling the hotel lobby. She makes eye contact with the robust man for a split second, whose facial expression reshapes in dull stunner as he peeks at who's sitting next to her.
Y/n sets her crystal glass on the bar counter. "Thank you so much for the drink."
"Wait. Are you leaving?" Art questions, with feigned etiquette that reeks of desperation.
Y/n's eyes dart to the man standing near their stools. Art tracks her gaze and sighs. "You already gifted me minutes of your time and a Negroni. That's enough coming from Art Donaldson."
Art hesitates. "They are not in my business." He practically whines, progressively revealing his despair to the young woman sitting before him.
"I still need to Uber home," Y/n excuses, pouting at her words. "A woman can't be alone that late-
"I can drive you."
✩
The drive is around twenty-five minutes.
Y/n quietly sits in the copilot seat of Art's Bentley Bentayga. By her left side, Art grips the steering wheel confidently, his fingers switching effortlessly over the controls as they drive through the streets of the suburban county of Westchester. She peers through the shadowy window glass on her side —there's a winter storm outside.
"How many days are you staying in Westchester?" Y/n asks while her gaze stays fixed on the passing scenery framed by the window.
Art clicks his tongue. "Not much. Most likely leaving tomorrow morning."
"Did you do anything fun around the county?"
"Well, a rich-people county isn't the most amusing place to visit." Art jokes, speaking with a devilish tease.
Y/n doesn't reply. Instead, her eyes quickly flicker to his silhouette under the fuzzy skyglow leaking through the car's transparencies. Art's blonde hair captures the faint illumination beautifully, each strand seeming to shimmer under the dim light. His muscles tighten at—
Red light.
When the car stops, Art twists his head to the right, his and her gazes collapsing. He runs his tongue over his upper lip before talking, "You mentioned something earlier..." he begins to say.
In the stillness of the moment, the only sound is the soft hum of the engine idling.
"I mentioned many things," Y/n corrects.
A faint crease of discomfort crosses Art's brow, and he shifts slightly on the red leather seat. Y/n examines each of his subtle hip and torso motions as he gets rid of the discomfort. Finally, again sitting still, he resumes. "Let me be specific. You mentioned I am handsome."
A sudden warmth spreads across her cheeks, an unmistakable flush of embarrassment.
"I don't think this is appropriate."
"I don't think neither of us cares about what's appropriate anymore."
It feels as if the world has stopped for Y/n. It feels as if a spell had caught both of them, leaving them besotted, and fucking horny, and awaiting the other to give the—
Green light.
"I think there's a parking lot next to a store that shut down recently 3 minutes away."
That's all Y/n says. Art presses down the gas pedal and tightens his grip on the wheel to suppress some exotic sensations that rocket down his spine.
Raindrops splatter against the windshield and the car's roof, and the blonde guy continues to drive through a road of infinite rain-soaked side trees swaying in the wind's rhythm and closed shops.
It takes four minutes and fifty seconds to reach a gigantic parking lot beside what once was a Dollar Tree. Although Y/n can scarcely appreciate the space due to the weather conditions and the tinted glass, she can see some faded, bright yellow parking lines now covered in dirt and droplets of rain. The place is totally empty.
Y/n's heart sprints ten times faster when the engine settles into a contented hum. Goosebumps flourish on her skin as serenity inundates the car interior—complete silence. The SUV has parked on a random corner.
And she doesn't want to look in Art's direction because she knows he's already looking.
She plays it credulously. "I think this is a great place to talk in peace," Y/n murmurs, finally turning her head towards him.
The fleeting moment her eyes cross with his evokes a sense of vulnerability for the girl. Art's orbs shamelessly spark with a glimmer of mischief, like a predator stalking its prey. The unbridled desire is nowhere near disguised now, and Y/n knows the guy won't keep playing the innocent role anymore. Is buying him a drink disrespectful? Bullshit. But she's grateful the poor, troubled man will have some fun. She knew he'd surrender faster than expected.
Yeah. Art had lifted the white flag as soon as he reached out a hand to grasp the door handle of his sexy ass Bentayga to open it for Y/n, and his eyes had flown by instinct to the girl's ass when she was hopping on his car.
Now, he can't tear his eyes off her lips.
"I've had a fucked up day." Art suddenly breathes out. There's a steady rise and fall of his chest, but Y/n can tell he's struggling to maintain it. His eyes ascend to lock in with hers. "I want to forget who the fuck I am."
Y/n is drowning in the noise of her own accelerated heartbeat. "I can help you." Y/n's words shoot out in submission, haltingly batting her eyelashes at him.
It's humorous mainly because she has no idea what is happening in his life. She doesn't know the mess between Tashi and Patrick; the fact that Tashi allegedly fucked Pa—well, whatever. Y/n doesn't know. She understands the man is disturbed, though, because the instant she stepped inside the luxurious lobby of the Ritz Carlton, she could tell the man had no emotion on his face. She recalled watching his matches when she was younger, and one thing about Art Donaldson was the radiant vitality his presence brought to any room he was in.
It's evident that the radiance was gone. For whatever reason.
Their bodies draw closer, the only barrier being the gear stick and seat partition between them. Y/n can feel Art's warm breath clashing against her lips, a slightly intoxicating and crisp scent of gin climbing to her nostrils. She moistens her lips with the tip of her tongue before grabbing Art by the collar of his shirt and pulling him into her mouth. He briefly widens his eyes but reciprocates instantly.
He is the sort of kisser who goes slowly but deepens as much as possible, inserting his tongue everywhere attainable. Y/n tastes good and, heck, excellent —sweet and spicy, as if she chewed cinnamon gum before assaulting his mouth. The flavor and the satiny texture of her lips push him to near insanity; Art pumps his tongue in and out, desperately, sweeping against hers because of the faint, delicate moans leaking from her side every time he does it —it makes him vertiginous.
It isn't until Y/n sucks on his lower lip that he splits off to breathe. "No marks." Art forewarns with his face dropped in soberness, heavily panting.
He discerns something shifting inside of him when Y/n's beautiful features soften for a beat, casting a veil of a peculiar sentiment he's too emotionally dumb to interpret —bitterness? sadness? He can't tell. The fuzzy thoughts fade when her lips attack again, parting his with ease, allowing her tongue to slip inside. "Shut up." Y/n spits lowly between kisses.
A couple of sizzling minutes of pure, obscene french kissing pass before Art realizes the pressure underneath the light-washed denim over his crotch is tormenting him. His left-hand glides over Y/n's thigh and gently squeezes, letting her know he needs to move forward. At this point, he has readjusted the position of his body over the red leather seat, facing Y/n straight; the hand resting over her thigh gradually shoves the hem of the mini-dress upwards, revealing more skin and dangerously approaching her pussy.
The tempo of Y/n's kisses becomes unsteady with the sensation of his physical touch near such an intimate area. It felt weirdly mortifying for her to be this wet this early —her pussy felt slippery and willing to take whatever Art proposed. She breaks off the kiss out of involuntary reflex, with her gaze immediately descending on Art's left hand, too big for her, and skillfully positioning the lace of the light-pink panties aside.
If Art was a magician and opening her legs was a challenging magic trick, goddamn, he'd be a good magician. Y/n had no idea how, in such an undersized space, her legs had managed to spread that wide. The specific moment when Art's middle finger comes in contact with her wetness is a blur, but the filthy, low-pitched groan that his mouth emits as the first finger rubs her pussy lips will never be forgotten. Y/n unconsciously rocks her hips in search of more friction-
"Stay still." Art demands, chest rapidly going up and down. Although he attempts to sound demanding, his voice is weak in want and ridiculously desperate. Y/n's cheeks flame up when he begins toying with her clit, rubbing slow circles, with an equally attractive and irritating cocky grin resting over his face.
But she wants that one finger to go in. Y/n sighs in eagerness, muttering a series of pleasepleasepleases.
"Art..." Y/n mutters between choked moans, bucking her hips forward into his hand. Art gazes at her, intoxicated by her facial expressions and the mild tone of her voice, delivering such nasty noises. His eyes don't leave Y/n's face as he thrusts his middle finger past her slick folds. He feels his dick twitch at her exaggerated facial response.
What was one finger quickly became two, picking up their speed and twirling inside, hitting the sweetest spot. "Not a virgin, right? " Art abruptly asks, terrified but astonished at the tightness her pussy held, clenching down on his digits and squeezing.
"No... oh my god—" Y/n yelps, hardly managing to articulate words as his fingers keep steadily penetrating her pussy.
Y/n tilts her head back and instantly feels a trail of sloppy, wet kisses on her jaw; Art is nearly over her body, working his way downstairs and upstairs, too. The accelerated rhythm of his fingering ceases for a hot second as his available hand reaches her chest to unashamedly pull down the neckline of Y/n's mini-dress, freeing her tits and letting them bounce out of the expensive cloth.
As a sheer coincidence and dissolving in pleasure, Y/n's eyesight dismounts in one of the tall buildings in front of the parking lot. What she sees is practically ironic. An immense billboard with Art's face crammed inside, by his side Tashi Duncan's iconic facial features, and an oversized Aston Martin logo. "Game Changer," the thing reads. Funny, she thinks. He is a game changer, though —not sure if he is the same kind Aston Martin broadcasts.
But seeing his face and Tashi's painfully reminds her the man is not hers.
In fact, the man has a whole wife.
"Fuck me." Y/n requests, still a complete mess, moaning, arching her back, breathless.
And nothing happened where she thought the fire test lay. Art obliged. In fact, he seemed enthusiastic. He wants to make her his. Y/n modestly smiled at the thought.
"Yes... fuck, yeah." With a deft hand, he reaches down and unfastens the button of his pants; he eases the zipper down, and the faint sound of it sliding makes Y/n nauseated of anticipation.
Art reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a beautiful, black leather wallet. He flips it open, his brows furrowing in concentration as he sifts through its contents. With a muttered curse under his breath, he begins to dig deeper; Y/n doesn't understand what's happening —is he searching for a condom?
After eternal seconds, the blonde guy lets out a frustrated sigh and shakes his head, resigned.
Y/n sits beside him awkwardly, unhurriedly pulling up the neckline of her dress, covering her now shivering body.
"...So?" she questions.
He remains silent.
"I don't have condoms."
"I'm on the pill." Y/n offers.
The look Art shoots at Y/n isn't gracious. In fact, it triggers a big spark of frustration on his face, eyebrows knitting together in a light scowl as he looks at her incredulously.
Then it turns worse when, by mistake, his gaze falls on the same billboard Y/n had seen earlier.
"I can't. Sorry."
Y/n slowly closes her legs and adjusts her neckline. "Why?"
Art's eyes fall to his lap. "Well, starting from the fact I have a family-
Y/n interrupts. "Well, you didn't seem to care when you offered to drive a total stranger."
It was most likely the sassiness and the blaming in her voice that unexpectedly threw him off. Really threw him off.
"That's none of your business. I just took the opportunity of a warm hole."
In one swift, rampant movement, her hand connects with his cheek with a resounding crack, the sound echoing through the air like a crash. His head jerks to the side. A slap.
She had fucking slapped him.
With a trembling breath, Y/n doesn't think twice before she pushes open with unmeasured force the door of Art's fucking ugly car —or that's how she thinks of it now. The storm still persists, rain pouring down in sheets. Tears accumulate over her eyes as she steps out into the downpour, grabbing her purse tightly.
"Hey, hold on..."
She completely ignores Art's words, which get easily lost in the roar of the rain.
But she turns to face him one last time, sitting on the pilot seat, visibly ashamed of himself —and still with unbuttoned pants.
"Fuck you. I hope you lose every single fucking tennis match." And with a forceful push, she slams the car door shut.
As Y/n steps away from the vehicle, leaving a splash in the puddles on the floor, she wishes the man she met two hours ago had run after her and begged forgiveness. But of course, he didn't. Instead, she watched as the vehicle got started again and drove past her, quickly rejoining the road and disappearing in the darkness.
✩
#art donaldson smut#challengers fic#challengers smut#challengers fanfic#art donaldson imagine#challengers x reader#art donaldson x reader#smut#fanfic#imagine#mike faist#challengers
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Ugh I’ve become obsessed with Paige. I actually showed a friend a video of her trying to explain my crush and the first thing she said was “wow, I didn’t expect her voice to be so deep”. I’m likeeeee SEE 🫠
For a request how about a late night call with Paige while she’s out of town. That voice in your ear, saying all the things she wish she could do and will do when she gets home. 😈
ᯤ༉‧₊˚.*ੈ✩‧₊˚‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ on the phone,,
paige bueckers x fem!reader
you were in your bed getting ready to finally lay down after the long day you had. paige’s side of the bed was left empty and cold ever since she left for an away game. it’d only been two days and she’d probably be back tomorrow, but you still miss her an unbelievable amount.
your head hits the pillow when your phone starts ringing, paige’s name spoken loudly in the air by your phone. it startles you a little, not expecting to hear from her again today.
you reach over and answer it, pulling the phone close to your ear. “paige?”
“hey ma, how are youuu?” she drags out the ‘you,’ making it evident she’s happy and in a cheerful mood. you can’t help but smile to just by picturing her face.
“i’m good, about to go to bed actually.”
“not yet. i wanna talk to you for a little bit. i’ve missed you.” her tone changes with the last few words, voice lowering in a seductive manner. it already has you turning in bed as the heat creeps up your body, the tone all too familiar to you.
“i’ve missed you too p.”
there’s a pause on paige’s side of the phone, silence filling the line. you hear her labored breath fanning over the microphone and wonder if she’s just as worked up as you are right now, even though she hasn’t actually done anything.
“i’m so excited to come home tomorrow baby. can i tell you something?”
“anything.”
“i wanna to fuck you so bad right now.”
“oh-” you have no time to speak because she’s cutting you off immediately to follow up on her statement.
“when i get home, fuck- you have no idea what m’gonna do to you.”
now it’s your turn to pause, carefully thinking about what your next move is. you could just tease her, tell her to go to bed and make good on her promises tomorrow. on the other hand, you could play into whatever she’s trying to do and see where it goes.
you opt for the second option.
“yeah? what’re you gonna do to me paige?”
“you wanna know?”
“yeah.”
your girlfriend squeezes her eyes shut, praying that she doesn’t finish just by hearing the sound of your voice. you’re so intoxicating to her, always knowing what to say and what buttons to press. it’s almost embarrassing the affect you have on her.
“i wanna bend you over the kitchen counter, get you warmed up on my fingers. maybe three fingers, that sound good? i’ll make you feel so good baby i promise. i’ll start off slow if you want, or fast, it’s up to you.”
you’re breathing heavy too, considering dipping a hand down into your pajama shorts because she’s turning you on so much. the wetness between your legs grow, rubbing them together for some relief.
“once you cum two or three times i’ll take you to our bed- are you okay babe? i can hear you moving a lot.”
“m’okay. keep going,” your hand snakes into your underwear, collecting your arousal and using it to rub tight circles on your clit. the simple pleasure is enough to make your head tilt back and hit the headboard. the sound echoes through the phone and paige knows exactly what you’re doing.
“i’ve been wanting to taste you so bad too, gonna have you ride my face until i tell you to stop. want your legs around my head, cum dripping on my face. i want it so bad ma you have no idea.”
“yeah?” it comes out more like a whine, voice high-pitched as the pit in your stomach grows. you haven’t gotten yourself off in so long. the feeling is foreign to you, arm growing tired from the constant strain.
“yeah. won’t stop until your legs are shaking.”
“oh my god paige.”
“gonna fuck you too. nice and slow and deep so i can take my time, i want you to ride me after that. i love it when you ride me- i get to see everything. i’ll fuck you in the shower, on the fucking wall for all i care. i’ve missed your pretty pussy so much it’s all i can think about.”
you moan into the phone, making it blatantly obvious what you’re doing if it wasn’t already. paige feels her chest swell with pride and she’s so turned on she thinks about doing the same thing as you; dipping an eager hand into her pants to relieve the pressure.
“i won’t stop until you beg me to. i don’t want you thinking about anything else but me and how i make you feel, okay? want you chanting my name.”
“yes-fuck! nothing but you p,”
your hand gets tired and sloppy as your orgasm approaches, back bending off the bed to help you grind on yourself. paige is still talking but you can’t even hear her because your ears are ringing and you’re so close-
“you gonna cum baby?”
you hum out, near delirious and probably crying as her words send you over the edge. your whole body shakes at the sensation but it’s nothing like how paige makes you feel.
you can’t wait until she’s here and not just on the phone.
ᯤ༉‧₊˚.*ੈ✩‧₊˚‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊
a lil short fic for my paige girlies
part of me fears i made this a bit too freaky……
BUT I LIKE TJE REQUEST SO HERE YOU GO!
partially spell checked idk
#paige bueckers#paige buckets#uconn wbb#paige bueckers smut#paige bueckers x reader#uconn huskies#uconn women’s basketball#lgbtq#lgbtqia#lesbian#wlw slay#wlw yearning#wlw post#bisexual#paige bueckers imagine#paige bueckers fic
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I'm here with a Wuthering Waves request.
Could I request Jiyan with a s/o who likes talking about how pretty and handsome he is?
‘Look at you,’ you said softly as you held his face within your hands, fingertips caressing his skin as though it was made out of porcelain, while your gaze was transfixed on the many shades that made up his gorgeous eyes that always seemed to be set in a glare or deep thought. ‘Beautiful.’
Jiyan thought that after a while he would’ve gotten use to your honeyed words of sincerity and soft touches, however the general has found himself melting under your adoring gaze more times then he’d like to admit. With him being General it didn’t leave much room for you two to spend much time together, so when you do spend some time together Jiyan tries his hardest to make every second count as reconciliation for how often he’s away performing his duties.
You on the other hand didn’t mind it, sure it got lonely now and then but you’d always remind yourself that when your beloved general does come home from the battlefield, you got the opportunity to show just how much you appreciated him. You knew what you were getting into when you accepted his affections and became his partner, and as his partner it was your duty to take his mind off of his duties and bring about a sense of normality to his life.
‘Is there a reason you’re complimenting me?’ Jiyan asked, righting his hardest to not close his eyes upon feeling your fingertips caress his jaw in a way made every thought escape his head until all he could think of was how careful you were being with him.
‘I’m merely telling the truth my dear general, you are indeed a handsome man to gaze upon.’ You replied smiling warmly at him.
‘Is that why I always catch you looking at me as often as you do when I’m training?’ Jiyan raises his brow knowingly as you could only feel your cheeks flush at being caught but your couldn’t help it, you loved seeing your partner train as you got to watch him in his element and fall even more in love with him then you already had.
‘Guilty as charged,’ you chuckled as you pressed a kiss to his nose, ‘though I will not be made ashamed in watching my beloved general look ethereal and heavenly even when he’s working up a sweat.’ You added shamelessly.
Jiyan tightened his hold on your waist and pulled you in close. ‘You truly are a troublesome one aren’t you my love.’
‘Am I worth the trouble General?’ You asked him, looking deeply into those captivating eyes that you longed to look into their seemingly endless depths of pure gold forever.
‘You are indeed worth it and much more, it is I that should be asking you that question.’ Jiyan said as he recalled the important dates that he had missed due to his duties as general, he knew you didn’t resent him one bit for it, but that didn’t mean he himself had forgiven for missing out on the most important days of your life together.
You furrowed your brows as you saw a look of guilt and remorse cast over his face and you immeditly moved into action by planting kisses all over his face as you whispered sweet nothings to him. ‘You are anything but trouble my sweet, handsome Jiyan. The man with the prettiest golden eyes and the most beautiful blue hair that consumes my every waking thought to the point it maddens me.’ You pull away just to rest your forehead against his.
‘You may hold resentment towards yourself but I don’t, I miss you it’s true but my love for you is unending, I love you when you’re with me and I love you when you’re away fighting to protect our home. You are the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes upon and I will say that until I have lost my voice completely.’ You steal a kiss from his lips. ‘You are worth every bit of me even if you may not think so but you are and I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you because if I don’t, then may my heart be forever incomplete without you. So please don’t doubt yourself because I don’t doubt who my heart chooses to love wholeheartedly.’ You finished.
Jiyan only pulled you in tightly against his chest as he burrowed his head into your shoulder to hide away his burning cheeks, the words he wanted to say had died upon his tongue when you bore your heart out to him, his eyes sealed shut as he took you in your entirety and engraved it to his memory for when he had to leave once more for the battlefield; hoping that your scent would cling to him so that he’d have something of you to keep him going when stuck in the front lines.
He just wanted to have some aspect of you with him as his own personal morale boost when he was feeling at a loss, but wouldn’t allow for the soldiers to see that side of him, for if the general is shown at a loss, then the soldiers are quick to loose hope, he has to be strong for them like a good general should from his troupes and be a human second. ‘My heart has always belonged to you my dear,’ he began, ‘I didn’t see it fit that I’d receive your honeyed words due to my frequent absences, but with your unconditional love i am sure to see myself the way you see me one day; if you’ll continue to help me.’ He finishes, tightening his hold on you.
You smiled brightly as you stole kiss from his lips. ‘Forever and always my pretty General.’
#wuwa#Wuthering waves#wuwa x reader#wuwa imagine#wuwa imagines#wuthering waves x you#wuthering waves x reader#Wuthering waves imagine#Wuthering waves imagines#jiyan x reader#wuwa jiyan#jiyan imagine#jiyan imagines#jiyan x you
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Hiiii I love your lestappen stories, they are so good!!🥰🥰 I was wondering if you could write one where the reader is studying really hard for her final exams (she's so so stressed about it) and her boys help her relax a little 💗💗
gwen’s message. this is so me because i’m studying reaaaally hard for some exams i have to take next week and i just want lestappen to give me kisses and massages. 🥺
“Baby, you should take a break.” Charles says as he leans against the door.
You take your glasses off and rub the sleep from your eyes. “I can’t. I have all these papers to read and a lot of classes to catch up on.”
Max, who has been keeping you company since you started studying early this morning, scrolling through his phone, looks at you. “You can take at least fifteen minutes, it’ll do you good.”
“Max is right,” Charles walks into the room, stopping right behind you. “You need breaks between all the studying, or you’re going to fry your brains.”
You know they are right, but you also know that you need a good grade to pass the exams or you’re going to have to take them again; and you don’t want that.
“Just fifteen minutes.” You sigh, resting the back of your head against Charles’ chest.
His hands immediately find your shoulders and starts massaging all the stress off your body.
“Now, come here,” Max opens his arms, while getting comfortable against the pillows, and you don’t even need to think about it to climb on the bed. “Just lie down and relax.” He says as he makes way for you to lie down between his legs, your back to his chest.
“I’m gonna grab some oil and I’ll be right back.”
You barely have time to process your boyfriend’s words because your brain shuts off the moment you feel Max’s lips on yours. It’s barely a kiss, definitely not enough, and it leaves you wanting for more.
Max laughs when you chase after his lips and he just places a little peck on your cheek, making you groan.
Charles sits at the foot of the bed and gets rid of your socks. “You should try to sleep.” He whispers as his oily hands start giving you the best foot massage of your life.
You close your eyes, feeling one pair of hands on your temples and the other rubbing your feet and legs. It’s relaxing and definitely what you needed.
You wouldn’t have taken a break if it weren’t for your favorite boys. Always making sure you’re taking care of yourself. And taking care of you.
“Could — ” You swallow, feeling all the blood in your body rushing to your cheeks because you’re about to admit something you swore you wouldn’t in front of them. “Could you talk about racing, please? I know it’s weird but it relaxes me.”
They’re silent for far too long. But then, just as you’re about to apologise and run away, you hear them giggling; your favorite sound in the world.
“It’s not weird at all, schatje.” Max kisses the top of your head and you feel a little silly for ever thinking that they would make fun of you.
You can hear Charles’ smirk when he speaks, “You want us to talk about something specific?”
You think for a second.
“About Austria 2022.”
#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#charles leclerc x reader#max verstappen x reader#lestappen x reader#f1 imagine#charles leclerc fluff#max verstappen fluff#f1 fanfic#lestappen x you#f1 x reader
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teach me hard and soft.
pairing.
zane phillips x male reader.
word count.
9.3k.
summary.
the constant studying was getting to zane. reader helped his grades up, sure, but was it worth missing out on the parties where he could be dicking down random men and getting black-out drunk? reader's sudden proposition makes him think twice before quitting.
content warning.
college!au, jock!zane, top!zane, nerd!reader, virgin!reader, bottom!reader, reader wears glasses, slight dom and sub dynamics, blowjob, dry-humping, rimming, praising, muscle and body worshipping, size difference, breeding, dirty talk, verbal, soft to rough!sex, a build to exposing reader to sexual intimacy!
Tutoring sessions were supposed to bring boredom. Mind-numbing monotony that wore heavy on Zane’s eyelids; weariness that steamrolled his mouth open with a yawn; frustration that made the inside of his head blare as his brain blended your explanations into a pasty mixture of nonsense. One word went in one ear and out the other, and another break would be enforced for the sake of his sanity on the surface. In actuality, Zane knew it was for your own mental soundness.
Yet upon the third meeting of the new week, redoing his calculus homework left him alert and excited—the complete opposite of boredom. It had little to do with the assignment at hand and everything to do with the man who was flipping through Zane’s textbook through brightened and adoring eyes like he was lost in the fantastical world of superheroes fighting for justice from panel to panel. It was you. You and him were polar opposites. Numbers were Zane’s kryptonite, while frankly, they were your super power, and evidently so as you’d complete multiple practice worksheets from Zane’s textbook to pass time. Until Zane was done with his own work.
It had become increasingly difficult to ignore you, especially with the incentive you had offered Zane last week if he completed the extra worksheets you assignedfor practice—last week’s quiz was abysmal. Zane couldn’t get it off his mind—the idea of him tutoring you about all of life’s own intimacies. Instantly, an apparition of you; beneath him, over him, kissing, touching, feeling, squeezing, pleading; he snapped back to reality when he felt a warmth over his hand, and another source of heat swarming below his pelvis.
“Done? Looks like you corrected everything.” You peered over the opposite side of the short table, cross-legged on the floor like Zane beneath it.
“Oh—Uh, yeah. I had a little trouble with 4C, but…” Nonetheless, Zane slid the worksheet and a lined paper containing his proof of work towards you.
“Already looks like you’re getting the hand of it.”
It took a lot of willpower to stop himself from smiling when you perked up at the sight of his corrections.
Sunlight squinted through half-turned blinds in your bedroom, the sun bloated and content over the sheets of paper as you scanned them, comparing his answers and work to your own, and surprisingly marked them correct afterwards. Zane had a sigh of relief whenever you did, through briefly, because it would cycle again as you analyzed the next problem. Sometimes a little too long, though. Your brows would scrunch in confusion on how Zane came to that conclusion on a problem, but with a fix of your glasses, you tightened your gaze to analyze his work closer, and you marked it correct. That would repeat until you returned the worksheet with a score and a comment on top.
83%, Nice work!
It was like you were born to teach. You went over what Zane did correctly, what led to incorrect answers, what was missing in the formula, and what process that could save him the headache of memorizing. Every word came out of you like a story—a purpose to make sense of the world, of the problems you had given him. Your lips were distracting, minted breath tingling the inside of his nose—and god, how he wished he could taste it right now. And so, Zane endured a little longer, opened his ears, and made sure he was attentive, because he certainly wasn’t going to get that reward if he was slacking off.
“Nice job today! I’ll let you relax since you’ve been working hard. I know you have a match coming up, so…” You flipped through your binder of worksheets, unclasping it with a routine tug, and handed it to Zane. “Just finish problems one to four, is that okay?”
“Yeah. Perfect. Thanks.” Again, it took a lot of willpower for Zane to keep himself from smiling, especially since it seemed like you remembered his upcoming wrestling match. Like clockwork, he failed, blessing you with those pearly whites of his. As according to plan, you couldn’t spare a single second holding his gaze before feeling some type of way. Zane had picked up on your fidgeting—fingers, toes, and all—it was adorable.
Though, what wasn’t adorable was that you seemed to have treated this session like every other session, as if you hadn’t proposed that damn incentive that Zane had been working towards.
Did (M/N) forget? He couldn’t have, right? He was practically whining his way through when I began teasing him and—
And Zane would’ve been on his way out if he wasn’t so determined and unabashedly brazen.
“I thought I was going to teach you how to kiss.” Zane directly stated. Not as a question, but as a fact. You promised me this.
You caught your breath before you could choke on the water you were sipping. Instead, your shock was fleeting in the brights of your eyes.
“Oh—I… thought you forgot—“ You stammered through your surprise, and it only made Zane want you even more. Maybe there was regret that you had even proposed the idea, but it seemed like it wasn’t getting in the way of your conscience with how you stumbled to sit on your bed.
Zane followed, a pleased grin growing across his face, almost predator-like, because you were just as eager as he was, and it was exciting to know that he caused you to fidget for another round. “You couldn’t possibly think that I did your worksheets for…” Then, he looked over his shoulder, at the empty bowl on the table. “—a bowl of strawberries, right?”
“Well… strawberries reduce inflammation in the body, and I know you probably get tossed around a lot on the mat—”
God, his rambles are cute.
“I don’t get tossed around. I do the tossing.” Was that a threat? Zane didn’t mean for it to sound like one. He was merely playing a game of intimidation, to see if you were a man of his word. Even with the fleeting fear that heavenly passed from one eye to the other, whether it was from his taunt or from the evident size difference between you and him as he sat himself next to you, you seemed assured in your decision.
“Sorry, I’ve never been to your matches—“ Instead of acknowledging his presence, you stared at your folded hands, clammy in your lap.
“That’s fine. It gets boring pretty quick. I end up winning them.” Zane edged himself closer to you, in hopes to lift you from the enchantment of your palms.
“Really? Whoa, that’s cool—I would love to see it for myself. I’m sure I won’t get tired of it.” Knees touching now, and you still won’t look at him. Somehow, concentred even more now, on your fingernails this time. Biting them, pushing your cuticles back. Zane would’ve been annoyed with anybody else, by this inconsiderate lack of attention, but not you.
Never you.
A drop of silence fell over the both of you. One body hesitated, while the other was quietly pursued. Cicadas buzzed outside your window, passersby laughed in turn from a joke, and multiple vehicles roared, presumably racing each other down the street of your apartment. Zane watched you through all of it; the gentle inflate of your cheeks because you felt hot in the mouth, the bite of your lips because you were about to speak but ultimately rescinded; the curl of your toes into your socks because Zane suddenly put a hand over your lap to tear your gaze back towards him.
When you did—with those quivering eyes—Zane whispered, “Can I?” A permission that lit a twinkle in your pupils, stars mirroring the bright blues of Zane’s eyes. He leaned in because he was immediately pulled in like some kind of spell, a tilt to his head that you naturally countered, and pressed his lips to yours. “Follow my lead.”
Your lips were soft, incredibly supple flesh unfortunately stiffened by fear, an inexperience that Zane would cherish from this moment onward as he adapted and stilled until you’d adjusted.
“We’ll go slow, okay? Soft. Gentle. All of that. As long as you work with me.” Zane pulled a centimeter or two away from your lips, mumbling while making sure his breath compelled your lips to move. “Your turn. Kiss me. A small peck, can be a smooch too, your choice.”
“Y-Yeah, okay…” You nodded. You turned your body towards him for proper positioning, cross-legged, and Zane followed in turn. Then, you leaned in. A peck to Zane’s lips, your glasses bumped against his nose in the process. A chaste, pure moment of affection that Zane wished could have amounted to more, but he didn’t want to rush you.
Another one, a smooch like Zane had suggested, and a rather puzzled one at that because Zane was smiling from ear to ear, and you were confused, almost embarrassed as to why. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, no… you’re just…” He couldn’t keep himself from laughing. First, at the absurdity of this mutual settlement. Second, at the luck he was given because it had to be you, someone he’d briefly discounted as merely ‘an awkward nerd’ upon first meeting. Lastly, because you were more than ‘an awkward nerd’ to him now. A cute guy, a smart person, an incredibly pure and sweet boy that he would more than love to—
Zane was getting ahead of himself. Just kissing. For now.
You weren’t going to learn efficiently this way. This step-by-step process only worked on paper, on problems, on math problems, and Zane was done adapting your style of teaching. Zane was a demonstrator, it was how he taught wrestling to the younger kids at his part-time job. And man, were you in need of a good demonstration.
“—so cute…” With one hand to your cheek, he guided you closer, and pressed his lips to yours again. A bit harder this time, but enough to pull a gasp, a breath, a sound out of you. You parted your lips, and Zane seized the opportunity to claim the soft flesh as his own. He could feel a gentle buzz festering among the joined lips, a spark that compelled you to take its voltage in and pass it off to Zane with a gentle nip. Then, a suck when the bolt of electricity returned back to you tenfold, and your hand—you didn’t know what to do with them, curling them into your shorts for the meantime, but Zane had the experience to know. He held one, squeezed to let you know that you were in good hands, then guided it towards the underside of his jaw, letting you hold him.
“Hold me if you feel lost.”
“Okay…”
It continued on like this for a while. The passing of electricity, of sparks. Eyes closed, lips held and parted away from one another for a breather, then reunited with a thin string of spit bridging warmth between the two mouths, mutual devotion climbing from one end of spit to the other.
“Just like that…” Zane whispered, encouraged, praised. He was referring to the ease of your tension, seemingly melting away baby the second, but also the sounds coming out of your mouth. What was once desperately vaulted in the back of your throat in fear of sounding too eager, moans had now fallen dramatically off your tongue like they were meant to be, and Zane sucked it right off in fear you’d restrain yourself again.
“Was that okay?” You paused, muttering into his lips. It tickled when Zane chuckled, the soft, thick hair of his mustache aiding the quiver of your lips.
You pulled back to give him space, to take in the air around you, but Zane had a sudden hold on you, on the back of your neck, gentle but firm, and gazed proudly into your eyes, past the crook of your glasses. He haunted you to the core with that smile of his, stilled your breath for a long moment when he squeezed at your nape, something knowing and mischievous, like you had been branded with a hot iron, his name engraved into the now bruising hold on your flesh, and you knew you couldn’t go back on your word now even if you tired.
As if you wanted to.
“A natural…” It was distracted, Zane didn’t mean for it to sound half-hearted, but that only meant that he was telling the truth if he dove immediately back to kissing you again, without bothering to fix the slant of your glasses.
You got it. It was as simple as that. The swapping of lips, of saliva, of licks, Zane made it all so easy, and all you had to do was follow his lead. He kissed you until you begged for a break. You kissed him until the rush of blood in your southern region had calmed.
And it never did, even when he kissed you goodbye. He could spot your erection from a mile away.
It was like this for Zane’s meetings from then on. Tutoring went on as usual. He brought in his worksheets, you lectured him through the problems he’d missed, and you’d check off the problems he’d fixed. After, Zane would have you practice on him, learning how to lead for once.
As Zane returned with better scores, so did you with kissing. You’ve learned that touching was just as important as kissing. Zane liked his neck and chest rubbed, while you liked your nape held, controlled. Eventually, the two tutoring sessions a week doubled and became four, then it became six, until Zane found himself visiting you every day, with fluctuating hours depending on his schedule and yours. Though, you two made sure to free up your time to accommodate. Your lessons remained consistent, but Zane’s, however, had gotten longer. It was his excuse to make up for your inexperience.
In reality, he really wanted to be your every ‘first’ as selfish as it was.
You never knew there were so many types of kissing. Zane’s lips on your neck were your favorite. The softness of his mouth. The warmth of his tongue. The nuzzle of his mustache. As much as it was a struggle to hide your erection, he knew. You felt comforted by his words that it was only natural and couldn’t be helped.
And excruciatingly helpless when he confessed, “I’m hard too.”
Zane found you had a surprising knack for french-kissing, and that ultimately became a normalcy between you and him. Once you felt the slip of his tongue exploring your warm mouth, you were a goner. Kissing with just lips didn’t feel right anymore. You needed tongue. You needed his spit covering your tongue. You needed to suck at his own wet flesh. You told him that, through breathless pants, that you needed to explore more of him.
And Zane resonated with an astounding, “Me too,” and left you blue-balled, like always, on the bed.
And like always, you found yourself rubbing to the thought of Zane, wondering if he was doing the same, if he could find a way to during practice.
You would think about the new lessons for the week: kissing positions. It started off simple—making out on the couch, tenderly sharing tongue while you sat on the kitchen countertop. You naturally felt an inclination to touch him, it was the right thing to do, and the longer your hands were on Zane—squeezing his shoulders, caressing those built muscles that had been sculpted through sheer hard work and dedication—all the more ramped up these feelings for him had gotten.
He preferred you sitting on his lap, the perk in your posture meant that you had too—the warmth of his cupped palms around your ass being a constant reminder.
You kept it to yourself, but you were at his disposal.
It sounded naive. Wrong. And to be frank, cliché, but it was fluttering to feel so wanted. A nest of honeybees festering in the pit of your stomach, all because Zane’s attention was on you. Praising you for doing so well, when in actuality, you simply allowed him to ravish your neck that day until he was certain that hickies would blossom across the cavas of your neck overnight. Admiring your tainted skin the next day by topping his bruises with another round of painful, but welcomed sucks, because marks had never looked so beautiful on someone. Thrilling because you were a work in progress, and would be labeled as so until Zane had the final say. Whenever that day would come, you dreaded knowing it could end soon.
Zane kept it to himself, but he liked knowing that he’d branded you as his so easily.
It was common for both of you to end your visitations blue-balled—panting into one another’s mouth. Bodies collapsed onto another on the bed at the sound of Zane’s alarm, and every day, you found it increasingly harder to give into surrendering his body for practice. For his friends. For classes. For parties. He was a popular man, and this was the first time you’d cursed him for it, as much as you had been envious of it from the start.
When Zane unwillingly tore himself away from you, he felt his heart jolt with a spark, that same spark that had been passing from lip to lip, and festering in his veins to yours.
You looked at him with such distraught, a silent plea for him to stay. Disappointment laced in those pure pupils, and emphasized when Zane catalogued the mess he’d made on your body. Wet reminders of his presence on your neck cascaded over your collarbone, and down to the middle of your chest. The first few buttons of your shirt had been unbuttoned—the most visible skin you had bared so far, yet Zane had never felt his balls tightened up for such little promiscuity. It was like you were teasing him, pushing him towards the edge to see until when—just when he would crack and take you as he pleased.
That night would be an aide-memoire that you had captivated Zane, just as much as he had a control on you.
“Relax for me,” he whispered into your lips, ignoring a call from his friend with a toss of his phone before using the same hand to push you onto your back.
“Wait, but the party—“ Cold yet warm, that was how it always felt when you were with him. The draft hit your skin when Zane lifted your shirt to smother your stomach in tiny, fleeting kisses. Your goosebumps conflicted whether they should owe their arrival to the drop in temperature, or to Zane’s worship on your body.
“I know. They can wait. You’ll be quick.” Everything was moving at rapid pace. A beast in Zane suddenly unleashed from as he began removing your pants. An impatience you found yourself unsettled by, yet just as equally as desired with the way you followed every one of his command: to spread your legs wider, to keep your shirt on, to lean back on the pillows, braced on your elbows, to look at him, to watch him.
“Quick with what—“ Your mind was cluttered with so many demands, dazed by the sudden chaos of it all.
He barely gave you a chance to react before pressing his mouth to your hard cock. You instantly puzzled what all of this had amounted to the more he enveloped your length with a sudden gut-punching heat you had never experienced with your entire being. “Zane—“
“Just hold still.” He guided your shudders to his blonde locks, forcing a gratifying grip to his hair before power-washing your cock with his tongue.
Zane thought he heard your moans. Thought he knew them from flesh and bone from the times he’d devour neck and lips like an insatiable scent. But no—these were the sounds he was in desperate search for. Staggered, guttural, straight from the stomach and raw out your throat, as you begged for mercy from the suction of his mouth.
“S-stop, I’m going to c-come in your mouth—“ You desperately pleaded, rock-hard in his mouth and throbbing at the pulse of his tongue. The tip of his muscle flicked endlessly at your slit, beating it with the spit that had been over-compensating for his dry mouth.
“That’s the point.”
You tugged on his hair harder, not away, but towards you. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t muster the strength to watch him, and restrain yourself. That was absolutely impossible with the way Zane’s blue eyes locked with you, determination in his gaze that signaled that this had no longer been a demonstration. Sloppily sucking you off. Beating your wet dick off until it was swollen. “W-wait, Zane, stop—I’m really going to—“
Repeating, cycling, spitting, moaning, praising, urging, kissing, repeating until the thick release of your cum satisfied the grit of his throat. Drinking every ounce of purity out of you because it was a sacred resource. Until you felt completely drained with Zane’s throat at your disposal, the salty taste of your loads nearly costing him his sanity had you not pulled him up to ground him with a kiss.
Or maybe his sanity had already been broken, because he pushed the thick of your seed back into your own mouth when you two connected, and it drew out the most beautiful symphony of sounds from you: the shock of it all, the salty and bitter taste embarrassingly spreading thick over your tongue, and then the exaltation, when Zane sucked it right off of you as a way of saying, ‘I’m yours too.’
No, this had been done out of pure love—one that had been kept in reserve for you, and only you.
It was an open secret to how prone you were to bruising. Zane remembered the shock of returning the next day to an onslaught of hickies on your neck. Marks that you comically hid behind a scarf despite the summer season. Bruises that earned him a knowing side-eye when one of your roommates answered the door to let him in.
“Does it look bad?” You instinctively bared teeth, sucking in a gasp when Zane curiously poked at one bruise to the next.
“Sorry. I got carried away.” He remembered that night vividly—beating off his dick to it after practice. He’d left hickies on many people before. For you, he didn’t know why he felt so fascinated by the wear of your skin—the break of skin solely caused by him.
“Not your fault. Kind of the reason why I never played sports.” Popping open the cap of the soothing cream in your hand, you then began to apply the thick mixture onto your wounds. Well, one of them, before Zane took it out of your hand.
“I’ll do it… Let’s take a break today, yeah? We can cuddle, watch a movie? Anything you want.” Ann apology seeped into the kisses he brought around your neck before applying the cream onto your bruises, finishing what you’ve started.
Not too long after, he’d take you into his arms, your head comforted by his chest, while you went on with your free-time: scrolling through social media, laughing at videos that appeared on your feed with him, chatting, kissing, chatting again.
“Do you date a lot?” You asked one day, knowing the answer without Zane having to speak. Though, you really just wanted to hear it from his mouth, to clarify, instead of assuming everything.
“In high school and first year in college, yeah. But it’s been mostly hookups so far.” Zane found that your hands looked perfect in his: smaller yet equally veiny as he compared, then examined your intricately cut nails. Perfectly trimmed with little whites baring.
“Hm…” You nodded, letting him play with your fingers, stroke your hair, kiss at your neck, until your silence was deafening.
It was like Zane read your mind, because he’d spare you that smile of his—one you had been intimidated earlier on in your life before all of this—and your heart felt like it surged over hurdles during your pursuit to him. He laughed in your neck at the glimpse of your pout, and he would tease you with several pokes to your body, introducing various notes of levity until you broke out into a laugh yourself.
“Before you say it, no—you’re not a plaything.” Zane assured with a kiss to your lips. Whether he was telling the truth or not, you’d rather delay the revelation for a little longer.
You never realized that you and Zane barely did this. Getting to know one another was an interest that had been vaulted from the back of your mind as things were ramping up. There were times where you needed it. A break from everything, even if it meant that you’d fall deeper for him. For Zane, it was always on days where he had too many events to juggle on his plate. Venting to you came first, then you’d pacify his frustration at his friends, at his professor, at his teammates, with a semi-homemade meal, and a movie in bed.
You two would compensate for the lack of knowledge about each other by coincidentally pulling all-nighters. Somewhere among one of those nights, you two found the perfect balance of understanding each other from in and out.
“I came to watch you practice the other day…” His hand was roaming under your shirt, lingering over your stomach, and then up your chest to toy with your nipples. You groaned into his mouth at a tug of one of your nubs, mirroring his actions onto his own body. Though, you were always distracted by how big his chest felt under your palm, preferring to explore the muscular plane.
“What—“ Zane pulled away, breathless and baffled at the admission, because who would want to watch him practice? His previous partners never did that for him. “Why didn’t you say hi?” You looked so delectable under him. Swollen lips, tongue peeking to taste at the lingering residue of spit.
“Wouldn’t I throw you off your game?” You ran your hand over his forearm. Memories of Zane’s sweaty muscles bulging as he pinned a guy down coming to mind, thick veins charging the muscle fibers with a pulse. If those veins had telepathic capabilities, you’d assume the erection in your pants was from their own command.
“Don’t think so. I would’ve introduced you to the team too. They would like you.” Another kiss to your lips before he rolled onto his back, switching positions with you to pull you onto his lap.
“Really? I didn’t think I would have anything in common with them!” You’ve gotten more brazen in your touch. Affectionate. You gave Zane’s shirt three tugs, a magical number to him, and he tossed it off his body and to the corner somewhere, removing the obstacle between your lips and his temple of a body.
“Maybe. Maybe not? I don’t know, some of them are struggling in their classes right now. I mentioned to them that you brought my GPA up, so—fuck…” The steady progression from being anxious to greedy was fascinating in Zane’s eyes. He watched you tongue his pink nipple, assaulting one after the other until either had stiffened, and then his armpit—he never thought you would warm up to practically burying yourself into his hairy musk, licking again, inhaling him with awakening ferocity that Zane wanted to tame. After all, that’s what he’d been doing to you, right? Taming the baby pup.
“I have some free time… Just mention my rates…”
“Yeah—god, you drive me crazy.”
You and Zane explored each other effortlessly—no labels, no commitments, simply out your own free will, and maybe that was the reason why Zane cracked.
There was a droning sound in your room, somewhere in the vent, but you’d never noticed the monotonous buzz before until now.
Zane was angry. You could decipher it from his fist, the cushion of mechanical pencil comforting the clasping grasp. You’ve never seen him angry other than being slightly annoyed or inconvenienced, but the tension in your room weighed heavy enough to pull his gaze anywhere else but towards you. No welcoming kiss, no bantering, no playing footsies under the table—only work.
“Zane, what’s wrong—“ Your voice was gentle. Maybe if he would look up, he would soften at the distraught etched onto your face, fine lines wearing you down with worry, with deep dejection because it wasn’t about second-guessing whether you did something wrong.
When he reeled his hand back from your touch, you were absolutely positive that it was your fault.
“Are you done grading yet?” His voice was tempered, methodically calm while his gaze never left the screen of his laptop. Scrolling through an endless pit of web pages.
“Yeah…” You pushed the paper towards him, and he glanced at it.
64%. The lowest marks he’d received since you started tutoring him. He was doing so well. Constant 80s. His peak being nearly a perfect mark, and it was all crumbling because of a man.
He sucked in his teeth, a familiar feeling of contention seething in his stomach.
Two men.
It only happened in his matches, and when it did, it signified his victory.
“Hey, what’s—“ Another attempt quickly stolen with a sudden biting kiss. Rough hands roamed around you, a touch that you had already felt nostalgic for upon Zane’s absence the past few days, and then a bite to your neck, a painful mark, an answer as to why you had felt so deprived of energy in addition. “Z-Zane!”
“Nico and Austin,” Zane muttered bitterly into your clavicle. Your shirt was then unbuttoned at flying speed, and his eyes were searching, pupils dilating upon the scan of your skin. Marks of want, of pleasure, faded into your chest and neck like foam to coffee. “—these are theirs, right?!”
“W-what? No! Are you crazy, what?!” You gulped hard, your neck straining as Zane began to match several bruises to his mouth, renewing the plump skin out of spite, out of greed. Traces of his spit matched the outline of your mark to perfection, yet he continued, relishing himself into the warmth of your skin, to the sounds of your panicked moans as you rubbed at his back to pacify his sudden burst of anger. If they hadn’t made a mark on you, then they will soon. You were his territory, his worshipping ground, and he needed evidence that he’d claim you first. “What’s going on…”
“They…” Embarrassment crept his way up to his neck, then his cheeks as Zane settled upon assessing at what he’d done to you. Windswept, that was what he’d described you as you lay breathless beneath him. He’d missed this, yet it was frightening to know that the withdrawal symptoms from not seeing you every day resulted with an uncontrollable need to ruin you. The calm of your breathing consoled him in meantime, and also lowered his blood pressure a few beats. He refused to release his grip around your wrists, but loosened for your comfort, and breathed, “—keep talking about you. It’s been a few weeks since you started tutoring them, right?”
“Yeah—they usually come together… What do you mean they keep talking about me?” On first impression, you’d assume it was about the way you presented yourself. Guarded and reserved to most, but you always made sure you had good intentions, right? That couldn’t be the right assessment, though. That wouldn’t have made Zane riled up, practically eating at your neck from a comment about how you were standoffish.
“Don’t make me say it,” he squeezed past tight lips, forewarning with tense eyes because you were smart. You were supposed to know what he meant by now.
Clueless.
“It can’t be that bad—“
“They’re animals, (M/N). The way they talk about you like you’re a piece of meat.” He muttered bitterly warm at the underside of your jaw. Yet, a part of you felt like he was kissing to the thought of their ridiculing, whatever they were, and you let him do as he pleased, with restrained silence to hear him, to let him know that you were listening, to let him know that it was getting dangerously hard to focus on his words because—you had no idea when, but his hand had slipped inside of your shorts now, massaging you through your boxers.
He continued after carrying you to the bed, his shorts kicked off to the side, your own after, and pressed himself to you, practically into you as you felt him throb against your erection without missing a beat. “—keep talking about how pretty you’d look sucking them off. How they would like to see you struggle taking their cocks inside of your mouth, both at once. As a reward or something, for doing those damn worksheets.”
“I—“ Your mind felt foggy. All of this information was overwhelming you, plus the friction of your cock against Zane’s much larger erection held your mind hostage, harassing it with violent yet pleasurable rubs as you felt the tip of your cock constantly brush against the scratchy fabric. This was new, and you needed to focus and fixate on Zane’s worries. “Zane…”
“They’d blow their loads inside of your mouth. Over your face. Inside of your ass—“ Zane grunted hard, stroking a hand over your head while rocking into you with his broad body, with a rhythm led by greed and lust. The weight of his motion reflected onto the creaking of the bed springs, and his eyes searched looming repugnance. “—wouldn’t shut up about that ass of yours. How it filled out those shorts of yours so nicely. How they wanted to breed you with their cum, one after another, then another round, and another, until your body had given itself up.”
None. You were fucking hard, throbbing and solid as he rocked into you, polished his cock with yours, and your eyes—he could see how much you’d want that fantasy to come true.
“Zane, I wouldn’t—“ You whimpered when he pulled your boxers off, freeing your embarrassing boner for him to delight his eyes on. You stripped yourself completely for the second time, top to bottom. It triggered the memory of baring it all for the first time, where you received your first blowjob. You watched in silence, in between hot pants, as Zane stripped his muscular body of his clothing, one by one. Like a performance, a stage that was approaching its curtain call, because you knew Zane only had patience for one more lesson to teach you. Fuck me, please…
“And you know what’s worse? I thought they were just playing around, that typical locker room talk. Told them you were a virgin, never even kissed a boy in your life, and that it would all be too much for you…” You shuddered, feeling the warmth of his eyes analyzing you like a scanner, taking copies of your body and inking it into his mind. The sink of your stomach as Zane caressed your body downwards, the gentle hairs below your belly button, all delectably leading to the unkempt hairs of your pubic area, surrounding the twitch of your cock.
He could take you right now, but Zane liked playing with his food. Loved seeing the sweat form on your forehead and on your neck; loved watching your chest rise and sink when he wrapped a hot hand around your cock; loved hearing you whimper when his large cock joined his fist, stroking you and him together as one large mass.
“And you could practically see them come alive from that. Drooling, rubbing their dicks through their pants, because all they want to do is break you. Wreck that tight little hole of yours. Make your first time memorable. Two cocks fucking inside of you. Who could say that they got double-penetrated on their first time?” You could feel his heavy balls jump. He wanted to see that too, didn’t he? To see you wrecked like this. After all, he was a saint for holding back for as long as he did.
“And god—baby, would you call me a monster if I wanted that too? To see you take cock for the very first time? To see you crying out about how it wasn’t going to fit? But you’re a good boy, right? You’d relax for me? And take my cock in? No complaints?” Fingers. You could feel him rubbing at your rim when he brought your legs over his shoulders, one on each side. It was wet with spit, cold against your pucker as his cock jumped at the thought. Your own dick leaking pre-cum in turn.
“N-no—would want you to.” You gulped, a grit in your throat you tried to pacify. Then, a grit in your mind, because you reached over to replace Zane’s hand over your cock and his with your own. God, he was a handful. You could barely wrap around it with your fingers, let alone both of your rubbing cocks. But you tried, and your efforts were met with a shuddering moan from Zane, a shiver rolling up his spine tenfold compared to his hand. “I think I can take it—I’ll be good. I promise—“
“You’ll be good? You’re smart, (M/N). There’s no ‘thinking’ when it comes to this. Only an ‘I can’ and an ‘I can’t.’” His blonde locks hovered over his eyes as they casted downwards, addicted to the way your pucker kissed at the pad of his finger. Enamored of your beautiful hand holding his cock and yours as tightly as if your sanity had depended on the two throbbing erections. His hips buckled when you began thumbing at his slit, spreading your pre-cum with his, and that was when he knew he was devoted to pleasing you—when he pushed a lubed finger inside of you without warning, watching the way you struggled to swallow the length of his finger. “Which is it?”
You broke out into a staggered moan. The introduction of his digit collapsing the gears in your mind, having been conquered by nothing but an empire of pure lust, and you resisted, with a tension around the first knuckle.
“I-I can!” A guttural gasp when his finger began maneuvering inside of you, working you open little by little. Past his cuticle, then he would pull out. Then down to the first knuckle, you would then pucker. Then plunged deep to where the webbing of his fingers met, and you would gape. He cycled through with little alternations, fingering you while providing your cock and his the warmth and friction they desperately plead, stroking in sync.
“You can, what?” Two fingers inside of you, your hole sticky and slick with a generous amount of lube, pistoling past initial limitation. You shut your eyes with strain when Zane pushed a third into your heated hole. He had you holding your legs up now, splayed out with your feet in the air as he flattened himself onto his stomach to watch your hole with an inquisitive, yet lewd mind. Every now and then, he’d pull himself out to taste you, sucking his fingers clean, then endeavoring upon his curiosity with focused licks to your hole, flicking and swirling around your rim, then entering to dig inside of you.
“O-Oh, god—I-I can—“ Your cock throbbed at the sight of his imposing body—flushed with heat and sweat, splotches of red on his body from where you grasped and held onto him previously. You stilled, but your hands moved to tangle within Zane’s full locks, pulling, yanking, tugging, at the magical plowing your hole was taking from his wet tongue. “C-Can take your cock, Zane—“ Upon those final words, he ended his rimming with a loud slurp, then a sudden splat of spit to your hole—perceptive to the lube drying out on your body.
It was grand. Watching Zane’s broad body crawl back into position, onto his knees, then forward as he lined your smaller body with fleeting kisses. Kisses to the tip of your dripping cock, to your happy trail, to the supple skin of your stomach and chest, to your nipples, to your neck, then finally to your lips, where he spent majority of his delight upon. His questing fingers snuck to tend to his muscular cock, applying a thick amount of lube in midst, a mess on the sheets you’d figure you could later scold him for, and pressed the slick, wet head to your heated rim. You whimpered at the imposing taught, your hole puckering obscenely in apprehension.
“Going to make love to you,” Zane mumbled into the kiss, the other hand fondling your cock to ease the tension in your ass, in your legs, in your back, in the grasp you have on his shoulders. “Gonna make sure you feel full with my cock. Make you think about nothing but my cock. Make you mine with my cock. Make your hole ruined with my cock.”
“Ruin me…” You said with a pleading whine. Your hands caressed his large back, squeezing whatever came to your palm and under your fingertips, and you gazed into Zane’s promising eyes, your own imploring in case he were to turn on his words.
The scent of desire filled the air—one more yearning kiss, to quench the drought of your throat, and Zane loved you like this. Folded in between his embrace, his arms tucked around you as a safety net, rubbing your hole with his cocked, making small circles, your feet over his shoulders—he blessed a kiss on both ankles—quivering, fear and want dancing in the light of your eyes, and he finally pushed, slowly until the head of his cock slotted in.
Your chest lift upon the intrusion as you strain your head forward and groan with distraught. “O-oh, f—“
“Relax… Just relax…” He was barely in, his cock almost slipping out as you sealed yourself shut and kept pushing himself out, but Zane resisted, countering with a persistent push until you’d open yourself up for him again, allowing him to enter you a centimeter more. “You got this…” His words were comforting, the kisses on your chest and neck soothing the burn beneath you, and you loosened bit by bit, though with difficulty.
“M-mm, u-ugh…” It was lewd, fucking erotic with the whimpers that came out of your mouth, the heat remounting from their bodies reflecting with a fog on your glasses. Zane didn’t want to, but he had to shut you up with another loving kiss. Another peep out of you would’ve unscrewed the armor that had been holding him back from ravishing you completely.
Your scent drifted to Zane, potent and intoxicating, and it was upon impulse when Zane decided that he needed to be selfish, and take you for himself. Your entire groan tingled, the pressure on your opening suddenly too harsh, and your hole protested, the ring of muscle clenching tight when he pushed in more of his cock. “Need you, need you so fucking bad. Need to fuck you. Need to make love to that sweet, tight hole of yours.” Words spilled out of your mouth, his tongue sloppily tasting the corner of your mouth, then chin, and his cock fondled your balls and cock, squeezing, tugging, stroking, because he had to over-compensate. Zane was strong. Determined. And broken. Your body defied any reason to refuse his cock in any longer, opening for him, and inviting hm in upon the force of one long, deep, and guttural thrust.
“That’s it. I know, baby. I know. It hurts. I know… Just… Fuck… Relax for me…” His words were gentle, almost cooing when you instantly caught your breath, and then paused his thrusts with your hands on his toned thighs. Even so, the undeniable proof of your arousal, the throbbing and twitching of your cock, spilling thick strings of sticky pre-cum, was the sole evidence that allowed him to plunge himself deeper inside of you, past your resistance, until his pelvis met your ass. “There we go… Not so bad, right? Fuck, you’re so fucking tight…”
“M-mm, full—“ You felt so full, the discomforting pleasuring hitting you like a lightning bolt when Zane pulled himself completely out to watch your hole deliciously gape, then flushed himself back inside of you with one thrust. Your ass felt like it couldn’t handle any more of Zane’s cock. You clenched tight around his thick girth, feeling the veins throb with imposing lust, feeling his balls jolt and twitch as you squeezed even tighter when he began officially thrusting, whimpering louder.
“So full, right? Your ass taking my cock right now. God, I wish you could see it, baby…” Zane had brought himself up, his posture straightened to feast his eyes upon the sight of the tight ring swallowing his thick cock whole. He was practically salivating, the self-restraint he has had unlocking with every thrust, kissing at your ankles, your feet, as your legs remained hooked over his shoulders. His muscular body—sweating bullets, draining yet feeding him with heat while he flexed his stomach upon moving his hips against you. He made you feel loose and hollow, and your cock agreed with a desperate plea to be touched. Some form of friction around its veins, and you fulfilled it with a wrap of your hand, stroking yourself to the lewd sight before you, to the beastly groans Zane thickened the air with, to the smell of musk and sweat radiating from bonded bonds, to the glorious drilling your hole was enduring. There was wild fury in Zane’s face, of strength and passion, thick veins surging through his arms, biceps, neck, as he held the lower-half of your body higher, and fucked into you. You feared him as you wanted him, taking him like you had promised.
“Z-Zane! God, you feel so—g-good!” Fierce and untamed, Zane powered into you upon that confession. A slur of sounds you’d make, beautiful in his ears, embarrassing to your own, but Zane made you feel so wanted, so loved, that you didn’t mind baring it all for him. He downed your moans with a kiss, a gulp, a sloppy open-mouthed kiss as he was desperate to hear more of you, licking inside of your mouth while he stretched you open and filled you with his cock. “H-harder—Want your c-cock…” You’d give it to him, delegating those pretty whimpers that he’d happily starve for and feeding it to him tenfold. Whimpers, grunts, and moans ripped out of your mouth while tiny tremors and tingles explode from your overfull guts. You were taking him. Taking his cock. Taking him like a good boy. Wetness trickled out from his pounding, a leak of lube splattering upon the connecting impact of Zane’s hips to your ass.
“So good. That’s my good boy. Fucking take it. Good boy. Fuck. Take my cock. You like it, don’t you? You love being filled with my thick cock, don’t you? Been thinking about this since we’ve met, haven’t you?” Zane reminded you as your eyes rolled back in their sockets, leaving only the whites of your eyeballs visible. It felt like a punishment for asking him to do all of this with you—this mutual tutoring. But god, if it truly was, you needed to find more ways to make his blood boil.
“C-close—“ That was how you always jerked your cock off. Rubbing the sloppy, swollen tip of it against the palm of your hand. Rough and smooth, you liked it that way. You would accidentally rub at the most sensitive spot at your cockhead, ramping up closer to your inevitable climax, and that was what you did in this current moment. You rubbed your cock to the heavy weight of Zane’s dick inside of you, the tickle of his mustache on your lip, the crooked, fucked-out position of your glasses, the tantalizing depth his cock had reached inside of you. Zane’s hand skimmed down your chest, stopping over your nipple, where he tugged and pinched with a thumb and a forefinger. Close. You were so fucking close. One hand reached up to Zane to hold his nape and keep him from pulling away from you—because you needed him to watch you, to see you crumbling upon his very eyes.
“Come… Keep stroking that cock. So close, baby. I’m so fucking close, hm? Look so beautiful—god, I could do this all day. Could spend forever doing this with you. Fucking your ass. Making love to that hole… Making love to you.” Every word that came out of his mouth was a spell that took you higher and higher to your climax. He had his hands around your hips now, his biceps bulging as he powered you down onto his thrusts, and right there—Zane felt it, you felt it. You both hissed when his slick crown dipped to your sealed entrance, your prostate. A little more. Just a little more and—you felt him.
“S-shit, Zane! R-right there—“ You choked out.
With a subtle angle change of Zane’s hips, you felt his throbbing cock struck your prostate like it was rock, mined it as it you’d been concealing gold and life’s greatest treasure from the world. In a way, you did because you unleashed an unholy moan that sent tremors to the goosebumps on Zane’s body. He’d branded you now, ironing you with his cock, deep plunges deep into your hole, into your prostate. If his hickies was not enough proof of his devotion, you were convinced with the absolute euphoria Zane had sent your body in with the weight of his cock. You thought you knew ecstasy, thought you knew what it was like to be pleasured and fulfilled—but this was an entirely different level.
“Shit, baby. I need to come inside—“ He was ruined. Zane was fucking ruined. HIs hips on autopilot. Large, rough hands roamed your body, squeezing whatever came into his palm. He helped you in stroking your cock with one hand, the other playing with your nipples, or squeezing your waist, or squeezing your throat. He didn’t know what to do. He was delirious, fucked out of his mind, and all that mattered was that it was with you.
“P-Please—Come inside me, please—“ You managed to gather yourself and plead with him. As if he would ever deny that opportunity. But you needed Zane to know that you desperately wanted him just as much as he did. You wanted him in there. You wanted his loads desperately sticking inside of you, filling and keeping you warm even if his cock had abandoned your hole.
Your pupils were blown out, Zane’s blue eyes glowing as the size of his shaft stretched your flesh out, stirring the inside of your hole, kissing your prostate with every thrust. He held you close, arms clasped around your neck to fold you toward him. He had you whimpering with overwhelming sensations, the stretch of your legs and back forgiving because Zane was deep inside of you, turning you in and out like he had promised, overpowering any pain in your body while he circled his hips. Upon watching him, you’d never seen someone looked so pleased, so determined, impaling you with his cock over and over, brushing your body with his rough hands, and on the nth stroke of your cock, so relieved as he indulged on your endurance for as long as he could, before spilling his thick load inside of you. Not a second after, you chased after him in pursuit, your cum sprouting from your cock in six shots, Zane doubling that amount in your ass.
You both shared a deep, guttural moan, wallowing in your shared orgasm with a long, gratifying kiss while Zane continued to dump himself inside of you, panting, refusing to catch up on his breath, and stripping you the chance to do the same as he began moving his hips again. Languidly for the rest of time, but you felt his cum pushing deeper into you, warming up your guts with the help of his cum-covered cock. Your body was at his disposal, and he seized the opportunity to remind you that it was no longer your body, but his.
“You okay?” Slowly, he unfolded your body until it was flattened with the weight of his body collapsed on top of yours. You could feel his heartbeat, his muscular chest slick with sweat pressing to yours, slowly but surely coming down from its high. He was unwilling to pull himself out of you, the warmth of your hole around him nearly lulling him to sleep. Exhaustion in his eyes, but he mustered up enough strength to take care of you, stroking your hair back after licking your cum off your body in midst of repositioning.
You kissed him again, wanting to taste yourself off his tongue, and Zane accepted that as an answer, laughing into your mouth. “I’ve taught you well, haven’t I?”
“Couldn’t have asked for a better tutor.” You mumbled sleepily, hiding the blush in your cheeks into his shoulder while fatigue struck the muscles in your body until it begged for a rest. You wrapped your arms around him, embracing his large body into your own. His warm smell, his soothing voice, his adoring touch—you couldn’t fathom going back to a life without Zane in your life, teaching you about anything and everything, just as you did for him. It made your chest swell at the thought, your heart twisting itself until it began to hurt. But Zane kissed you once more, something that felt perpetual, and you’d calm.
“What are you doing for the summer?” He whispered, nuzzling his mustache against your cheek like you liked. He fixed the crook of your glasses with a twist, impressed by how they hadn't fallen off the entire time he was fucking into you.
“Working… Tutoring’s still in session for the summer classes, so I’ll be here.” You nodded, and he hummed in response. There was a brief silence, you’d reckon that could hear him thinking if you had the skills to.
“So… you know how I wanted you to meet the team? Maybe we could do that over the summer. What do you think? Think it’s only right to introduce my boyfriend to my best friends.” Nibbling on your ear now. You squirmed, ticklish as the tiny bristles of his mustache brushed against places that had never been touched. His smile only made it worse, the curve of the hairs grazing over your lobe and the shell of your ear.
“I’m your boyfriend?” It was impossible to stop yourself from smiling from ear to ear. The label made you feel fuzzy and warm on the inside.
“You didn’t think I did this all because I wanted to have sex with you, did you? I mean, it’s been months—“
“No, no—I was just…” You shook your head to shrug off even trying to reason with your confusion. “What about Nico and Austin? They were being kind of—“
Deceitful fingers spidered over the span of your belly. Lower, and lower. A roguish smile slowly formed on his face as he began fondling your sensitive flaccid cock. He then turned to you, gently pressing your nose to his.
“We can talk about that when the time comes.”
“When the time comes for—“
“You’ll see.”
nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
#✰ : nou.fics#zane phillips x male reader#zane phillips x reader#zane phillips x m!reader#zane phillips x you#zane phillips x y/n#zane phillips imagine#zane phillips fic#bottom male reader#x male reader#male reader#m!reader#gay reader#male reader insert#male reader x male reader
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hii i have an alessia russo request :)
basically reader is a huge fuckgirl and everyone knows this, then when she meets alessia after alessias transfer to arsenal they become really close and start sleeping together but r makes it clear it’s just casual, then lessi starts catching feelings for her and r is aware of it but she is kinda playing with alessias feelings and showing mixed signals, eventually lessi breaks down and starts yelling at r about how cruel she’s being by playing with her feelings, happy ending though please maybe there’s an explanation on why r was acting the way she was?
also please write it with a bottom!alessia :)
No strings || Alessia Russo x Bronze!reader
Warning smut 18+, ab riding, fingering, orgasm denial, bottom!alessia, top!reader
It’s a long one :)
Moving to Arsenal from Barcelona had been a hard move.
You knew it would be a hard move but you had prepared yourself for it.
The worst part of it all was the fact you were leaving your big sister, Lucy, behind.
Over the summer, you had been too focused on the World Cup to think about the dread of moving, but once you reached the airport, Lucy approached to say goodbye and that’s when it finally hit you.
You hated it.
You hated the fact you had to move.
But you had to. You had to leave.
You had to leave her.
Her being Jana Fernández.
You and Jana had been dating since you were both twenty and had dated for two years, however, when you were still madly in love with her, she came to you and said she had fallen out of love with you. She told you that you weren’t the one for her, and that killed you.
Once you’d broken up with Jana, it just became awkward and toxic to be around her.
Every training, you purposely avoided her but it became impossible to do that when you were always put at partners for training.
So you left.
You left everything behind so you could have a new beginning, and you wanted that.
You promised you wouldn’t fall in love again, not for a while at least, but that rule started to fade once you saw her, Alessia Russo.
Still being 22, you were playing with the under 23s, however, within the days prior to meeting her, you had received your call up for the World Cup.
Due to the fact you were only getting your call up then, you had never met Alessia but Lucy and Kiera had both told many stories with a certain blonde striker in them.
Alessia and you signed your contracts for Arsenal on the same day and the photographers suggested you take pictures together, which meant Arsenal got to show off their two new signings that could potentially be the future of English football.
It was only after the shoots that Alessia spoke to you.
“You’re Lucy’s sister aren’t you?” Alessia asked and you nodded in response, worried that you’d stutter if you opened your mouth. “You two look alike.” It was the truth. You and Lucy really did look alike. You both were tall, muscular, tattooed.
“Alessia, right?” You questioned, already knowing the answer and was confirmed when she nodded. “I’ve heard lots about you from Luce and Kiera. I’m guessing you’re the blonde striker that goes by Less in their stories.”
“They talk about me? What stories do they tell you?”
“There was this one story where you supposedly tripped over someone’s boot and face planted the floor.” You slightly giggled as Alessia’s face went a light shade of red. “Don’t worry, I’m clumsy too. Ask Luce. I’ve always been clumsy since I was a toddler. Running into stuff, tripping over things, everyone says they’re surprised I don’t trip over the ball when I play football.”
“No way, I get told that all the time.” You and Alessia laughed as the similarities you shared arose.
“Anyway, I best go, my plane back to Barca is in a few hours and you know what London traffic is like.” You joked and Alessia smiled. “See you in Australia?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you in Australia.” Alessia confirmed and with a small smile, you waved and left leaving a very confused Alessia.
Alessia had never come across a girl who made her feel the way you made her which racked her brain full of questions about you, and herself.
———————
“Luce, come on, I don’t like her. I can’t like her.” You complained as Lucy kept going on and on about you liking Alessia.
Once you’d gotten back from London, you told Lucy your encounter with Alessia and she had been teasing you for the past week.
You were currently on the way to London to meet up with the team before making your way to Australia for the World Cup.
“Yeah, but you do deep down, don’t you?” Lucy asked, desperate to get the truth from you.
“Kiera, please tell her to stop.” You begged, for the fourth time, as Kiera looked, unimpressed, at the both of you.
“Lucy, stop it.” Was all Kiera said and it was your turn to look unimpressed at her.
“Look, Luce, I get it. You’re my older sister, you want to know who I like, but I can’t like Alessia. Not after Jana.” You explained and Lucy gave you a sympathetic look. “And anyway, Alessia doesn’t even like girls.”
“Listen, kid, as your older sister, it’s not just my job to know who you like, but it’s also my job to make sure you’re happy, and if I think you’d be happy with Alessia, I say to shoot your shot.” Lucy told you and you nodded along, pretending to listen to her when actually you were blocking her voice out because you knew you wouldn’t do what she was saying.
Once Lucy had finished talking, she pressed resume on her laptop and went back to watching her film which you were grateful for because it meant that you didn’t have to continue the conversation.
———————
“Y/N, hi.” You heard a voice say before a pair of arms wrapped around you.
“Hi Alessia.” You said, taken aback at how sudden the action was.
“How are you? How was your flight from Barcelona?” Alessia questioned, you figured to try make conversation.
“It was good. A bit of turbulence and Lucy being annoying, but other than that, fine.” You replied, grabbing your suitcase before starting to walk away, hoping to end the conversation with your action but nope, Alessia grabbed hers too, walking side by side with you.
“Oh, why was Lucy being annoying?” Alessia asked and you mentally screamed.
As much as you wanted to speak to Alessia, like you really really wanted to, you couldn’t.
Could you?
“Just being herself, you know?” You lied, definitely not being able to tell Alessia the truth.
“Y/N!” You hear Georgia shout from across the terminal and you let out a small thankful sigh, not loud enough for Alessia to pick up on it though.
“I’ll see you on the plane, okay? Bye less.” You smiled at her, before walking to Georgia who enveloped you in a hug.
——————
To say you had had the best weeks of your life was an understatement.
Smashing through the group stages and winning against Nigeria, the whole team had an excited buzz around them.
The only thing that could make the summer even better, was if you could just admit your feelings to Alessia.
Over the past weeks, you and her had grown closer and closer, and you were definite that feelings were there for her but you pushed them away, also definite that your feelings were wrong.
To celebrate the win against Colombia, the whole team decided to go out after the match.
It had started with you saying you weren’t drinking much, but with constant nagging from Lucy, Mary, and a few other girls to drink, you figured you might as well.
You deserved to and it also meant you could get them off your back.
Once you had your first drink, you expected to feel a bit tipsy and then that would have been time to head home.
However, what you didn’t expect to happen, was to be drunkenly taking Alessia back to your room.
Whilst at the bar, flirty and needy touches from both, you and Alessia, had occurred and you took Alessia’s hand in yours, leading her outside before planting your lips on hers.
“Stay in my room tonight.” You whispered in her ear, breaking your lips from her jaw.
Alessia nodded almost immediately, moving to look you in your eyes before pressing her lips on yours.
From that moment, you booked a taxi and eventually ended back at the hotel, you and Alessia the only ones there.
You led Alessia upstairs, not letting your lips off her.
As you entered the room, you pinned Alessia against the wall, moving your lips down her neck whilst her hands tangled themselves in your hair.
A small sigh escaped Alessia’s mouth, her grip in your hair tightening as you continued to attack the sweet spot on her neck.
“Fuck” she murmured, whilst you licked the sensitive, fast growing mark on her neck.
You grabbed ahold of the bottom of her shirt, pulling it quickly over her head, before reconnecting your lips with her body.
This time, instead of moving to her neck, you pressed your lips to her collarbone and down to her chest, just above where her bra sat.
“Move to the bed?” You questioned, pulling away from her body.
“Please.” She whined as you grabbed the back of thighs, lifting her up, effortlessly, and carrying her to the bed.
You placed her down in the centre of the bed before climbing above her.
“Fuck, you look so good beneath me.” You whispered in her ear whilst reaching beneath her to unclip her bra.
“Take this off.” Alessia told you, playing with the hem of your shirt.
You sat up, nearly ripping the shirt off you, your abs flexing at the cool air.
You watched as Alessia’s eyes trailed down your body to your abs, her eyes growing when she landed on them.
You smirked lightly before grabbing the top of her trousers, pulling down swiftly along with her underwear.
“Please hurry up.” Alessia mumbled, your mouth quickly attaching itself to her right nipple.
“Patience, pretty girl.” You told her, your voice husky which clearly affected Alessia because the moan she let out was almost pornographic.
Your tongue swirled around her nipple, your teeth often biting down gently to give her even more pleasure.
“Please, Y/N.” Alessia begged, and you lifted your head to look at her.
Her eyes were screwed shut, her head against the bed.
You locked eyes with hers once they opened, the blue that you’d fallen in love with was the only thing you could focus on.
“Are you sure you want this?” You asked, needing the confirmation before continuing.
“I want this, I’ve wanted this for a long time.” She revealed and you lowered yourself so you were in line with her pussy.
Planting teasing kisses to her inner thighs, you eventually thought it was time and connected your mouth with her mouth.
Alessia sucked a breath in as you made contact with her.
The whole experience was intoxicating for you.
The taste of her was intoxicating.
The smell of her was intoxicating, the perfume she wore was all you could smell.
Her laugh was intoxicating.
“You taste so good.” You moaned shamelessly into her pussy which made her buck her hips into your face.
You grabbed ahold of her thighs, keeping them in place whilst you continued to eat her out.
Your tongue took turns between going to her core and to her clit.
“I’m so close.” Alessia breathed out, her breath uneven and ragged.
You hummed in response, sending vibrations through Alessia’s body, moving her closer and closer to the edge.
The sounds escaping Alessia’s mouth made you feel like you were in heaven.
You felt Alessia’s pussy begin to clench so with a final lick you pulled away, leaving a very confused and angry Alessia.
“What? I was so close.” Alessia whined, out of breath.
“I know, pretty girl, but you’re gonna cum. I promise.”
You wiped your mouth, due to it being covered in Alessia’s juices, before leaning down to kiss her.
She moaned into the kiss due to her tasting herself.
As you deepened the kiss, you felt Alessia’s hand work its way to your abs, slowly tracing her fingers over them.
You smirked into the kiss, knowing how much she loved them.
“‘m gonna flip you, okay?” You stated and switched your positions so now, head was against the headboard and Alessia straddled your hips, more so your torso.
She bucked her hips at the contact with your abs.
You grabbed ahold of her hips, slowly guiding her up and down your abs.
“That’s it, pretty girl.” You praised her as she started to pick up the pace of her hips.
Moans escaped Alessia’s mouth and she increased her speed.
With the sensitivity from the denied orgasm, you figured Alessia would cum quickly and as you expected, she did.
It didn’t take long for her to mumble that she was close.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Oh god — ‘m gonna cum.” Alessia nearly screamed, and at that point, you flipped her again so she was beneath you and you slipped your fingers into her.
You continuously pumped in and out of her, to push her over the edge.
Curling your fingers to a particular spot, she moaned for the final time and her legs spasmed around your arm.
“God, I love you so much. I’ve loved you for ages, Y/N. I’ve wanted your lips on mine for months.” Alessia revealed and your face turned white.
You were speechless.
You didn’t know what to think. Maybe it was just post orgasm talk. Or maybe it was the truth.
“And I’m not just saying that because you just gave me the best orgasm of my life. I really do like you, Y/N.” Alessia admitted.
Bingo. There was your answer.
Thoughts swirled through your head.
You liked her back. You know you do. But you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t.
“I’m gonna get a clean cloth and I’ll help you clean up.” You told her, desperately trying to change the topic.
“Oh, okay.” Alessia said, the sparkle in her eyes disappearing which killed you to think that you were the reason for the action.
You promised yourself from that moment that you wouldn’t sleep with anyone, especially Alessia, until you were ready for an actual relationship.
Seeing Alessia hurt and confused killed you, and you didn’t want to experience that again.
You broke that promise though.
Following the win against Australia, the girls went drinking and Alessia ended up in your bed again.
It wasn’t planned and you didn’t intend for her to end there.
But similarly, you left her confused and hurt when you came up with an excuse for her to go.
You hated it.
You hated yourself for making her go through torture.
But most of all, you hated yourself for giving her mixed signals.
You ignore her when you walk past her, but then sleep with her.
You pretend like you don’t know her, but then sprint to her when she scores.
You show her that you don’t like her, but then show her that you love her.
You figured Alessia would snap at you at some point.
What you didn’t expect, was for her to snap at you at the worst time possible.
After the final and the loss to Spain, the team went out for a final time, hoping the drink would take away their emotions.
The night consisted of alcohol, dancing and jealousy.
The jealousy part in all the girls who were jealous of Spain for taking the win, but for you, it was a different type of jealousy.
Throughout the night, a bloke had made his way to Alessia, a flirty smirk resting on his face.
You saw Alessia smile back and within the space of a few hours, they’d gone from talking, to his hands resting on her hips as they danced.
You hadn’t realised just how jealous you were until Mary pointed it out.
“Mini Bronze, what’s with the frown and the red face? Angry are we?” Millie teased and the rest of the team agreed.
Instead of responding, you got out of your seat, stomping over to Alessia and the guy before pushing him away from Alessia.
“Get away from her.” You almost shouted as he pushed back.
“Why?” He snarled, harshly pushing you again. “Are you her girlfriend?”
“What if I was? Have a problem with that?” You squared up to him before he threw a punch.
You eyed him down, throwing a harder punch back.
You felt a pair of arms wrap around you and Lucy telling you to stop.
She separated you and the bloke before telling him to get out.
“What’s your problem?” You heard Alessia shout at you.
It took you, and the rest of the team, by shock at her shouting because she never raised her voice.
“You give me signs that you like me and then you ignore me! You fucking sleep with me, but then walk straight past me the next day. I like you Y/N! Why can’t you just tell me if you like me back? I just want an answer!” Alessia continued to shout.
You watched everyone’s jaws drop at the sudden reveal.
“I do. I do like you Alessia. I’ve liked you since Lucy and Kiera would come home talking about this climbs blonde striker. But I can’t love you. I can’t.” Your voice broke as you said the final sentence.
“Why? Why can’t you love me?”
“Because…” You were about to explain but remembered all the people who had surrounded you, including your big sister and all your teammates. “Can we go outside?”
Alessia nodded, and you both walked out the door and into the darkness that surrounded the bar.
“Why can’t you love me, Y/N, because I need to know. I need to know if you love me or not. Because I’m wasting my life waiting for you when potentially, you don’t even like me back.”
“I can’t love you because I loved Jana and she left me. I loved her and she said randomly one day that she didn’t love me anymore. I don’t want that to happen to us, because I love you too much Alessia. I think I loved you before I even met you. I don’t want to lose you and if that means staying friends, then so it stays.” You explained, Alessia’s face changing from anger to sympathy. “I wish I could love you Alessia, I really want to. But I don’t want any of us to get hurt.”
“I don’t care if I get hurt, Y/N. And I promise I won’t hurt you. I’d rather quit football than hurt you. I’d give up football in a heartbeat for you, and that’s telling you something. Please, let me love you.” Alessia said, inching closer and closer until she stated the last sentence against your lips.
“I’ll never stop loving you.” You whispered against hers before connecting them.
This time, the kiss was slow and full of love.
“I’m so sorry for everything, Less. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to confuse you.” You rambled as you pulled away from the kiss.
“It’s okay. I understand, I promise you, I understand. That’s in the past now.”
Alessia was true.
Jana and that experience was your past, Alessia was now your future.
#woso#woso community#woso x reader#woso imagine#womens football#woso fanfics#woso smut#alessia russo#alessia russo imagine#alessia russo x reader#alessia russo smut
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He Will Hope
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader
Summary: Feyd is obsessed with his bride from the moment he sees her, but on their wedding night he finds out she might not feel the same. (Angst, but hopeful ending)
Warnings/Notes: Feyd POV, pre-smut and smutty-ish intentions (if that makes sense? idk, ignore me), instantly-in-love Feyd, unwanted marriage, baby(heir) talk, typos. Can absolutely be read alone, but also serves as something of a prequel to Do You Love? (same world, but big time skip), so I tried to kind of echo that with specific lines.
Words: 1500
Feyd-Rautha Masterlist
You’re so…beautiful. He didn’t expect a peace offering to be this perfect. Yes, he knew his bride would be a daughter of a Great House, but you are one of many sisters and Feyd did not imagine your father would send him the loveliest of his bunch.
It’s a loveliness that has you sticking out like a sore thumb on Giedi Prime. Hair and makeup and wedding dress styled in the traditions of your home world glue all eyes to you as you walk down the aisle, and he likes that there is so much attention on you. It makes his inability to cease staring more acceptable.
Harkonnens are not meant to be enthralled by their brides at first glance. Discouraged, even, from caring about their appearance at all. ‘Brides are meant for breeding,’ his uncle told him as a child, ‘It does not matter what they look like.’ But he was not told what to do or how to act in the event the bride makes his heart involuntarily skip a beat.
Maybe if your heart was reacting in the same manner navigating this new feeling would be less intimidating, but the tears streaming down your cheeks suggest that's far from the case. You can barely look at him and he’s not sure you would be able to speak if it was required of you, but thankfully, verbal agreements are not part of marriage ceremonies on Giedi Prime.
When he takes hold of your hand and slices your palm with his knife, you give no indication of pain. You are supposed to do the same to him but you seem nervous enough as it is, so he makes the three-inch long slash in his skin for you before pressing his palm against yours. The mixing of blood is a swearing of fidelity from husband to wife and wife to husband; a tradition and promise that wore down with time as concubines became more common. But he will not do that to you. You will be his one, his only, and if he can help it, he will be yours.
He barely detects the words declaring you married. They're dull and bubbly in his ears as if he's sunk under the surface of his bath water because he's too focused on your mouth. Your plush lips are pink and plump and glistening, and he wants them. So he takes them before he's told to do so.
You taste different than the Harkonnen women he’s had. There is salt from tears, but something distinctly you seeps through. It's sweeter. A bit intoxicating. The kind of taste that collars and leashes the unruliest of men, and he wants more. Much more. But there are too many eyes, some of which are full of relief at the match finally solidified while others are prying and suspicious. If he keeps his lips on yours too long, questions will begin to form from certain witnesses—Does he like her? Does he want her? Can she be used? Can she control him?—and the answer will be plainly obvious.
When he breaks the kiss, your eyelashes flutter with the gentle opening of your eyes and he knows then that nothing—no convincing from advisors, no threats from his uncle, no hatred on your end—could ever have him willing to detach himself and use you for the sake of an heir only to discard you later. You are his wife now, you will be the Baroness upon his uncle’s death, and he will protect you from anyone who values you for the sole purpose of providing a child.
—
He sees that your assigned servants have quickly learned to manage your hair and clothing. By the time they deliver you to him, the pins have been removed from the twist on your head, letting the strands hang loose to frame your face, and you’ve been unstitched from that heavy gown to be dressed in night clothes from your home. He provided you with a nightgown, so he wonders if wearing the thin dress was your choice or your parents' idea to make you undeniably enticing, but either way, it’s effective.
What drapes over your body is nothing like the opaque blacks and straight lines of Harkonnen attire. It's intricate both in color and design; flowing fabric that shimmers when you make the slightest movements and, at the moment, does little to hide your shape and curves.
As you stand in front of him, patiently awaiting instructions, he can only stare at what’s on display. Pebbled nipples, a plane of smooth skin down to your navel, your slit and the folds between your legs—he wants it all. All of you. Now. Here. Wherever he can have you.
Rising from the chair where he’d been waiting, he dissolves the space between you. His arm snakes around your waist. His hand slides across your cheek to the back of your head. Lips slam into yours, chests meeting despite that sliver of fabric, and he tastes that taste again, instinctually feeling a need to lift his chin, bare his neck, and let you tighten that collar.
It takes you a few seconds but when your lips start to move, he kisses you harder, pulls you closer, weaves his fingers through your hair and lightly tugs. He guides you backward toward the bed, skin warming at the image of sliding the nightgown down your body. That warmth fans into pure fire and he can’t stop kissing you, can’t stop taking from you, collecting what little you’re willing to give him. Two of his fingers tuck themselves under one strap of the nightgown and begin to slip it down your shoulder.
But then he stops.
He stops because your lips freeze.
He stops because you're starting to shake under his fingertips.
He pulls back to look at you and it’s undeniable, so terribly undeniable, and he feels a bit ill. “You don’t want this,” he states.
You don’t answer; you just stare up at him with those doe eyes that he can now see are full of fear, and his heart squeezes. His gut tightens. He suddenly has the urge to throw things, break things, watch things shatter to pieces because you don’t want him. His own wife doesn’t want his touch and he does not like this—not at all—but you’re scared, and he doesn’t like that even more.
Sighing, he resets the strap on your shoulder, drops his hands from your body, and steps away.
“I'll leave you alone,” he says. But as he passes by you, you grab onto his wrist.
“We have to,” you rush out. “They'll know if we don't.”
He shakes his head. “They won't know anything that happens between us unless I allow it,” he tells you.
“B–But they expect an heir.”
“Yes. And eventually, we will have to produce one. That does not mean we have to share a bed tonight if that is not what you want, and it's clear that is not what you want,” he says a little too harshly. He isn’t trying to be snippy, none of this is your fault, but it hurts, and not in the way he enjoys.
You suck in a sharp breath as if preparing to argue, but then something shifts in your eyes. Instead, you say, “Where will you go?”
“The adjoining room,” he answers, nudging his head to the door on the opposite wall: the room for the concubines that he will never take. You turn to get a look.
“Oh,” you swallow. “O-Ok.”
He grants himself a few more moments to study you, to soak in your soft and delicate features and the swollen lips he cannot have before he walks away, leaving you behind for the bed he had no intention of ever sleeping in.
When he reaches the door, he glances over his shoulder to get one last look. You’re facing away from him, sitting on the mattress with your head low, your back arched forward and arms wrapped around your middle. You look small like that, slowly huddling into a ball, and he’d do anything to make it stop. Because you are his. His wife. His na-Baroness. He’s well aware he’ll fall for you in no time—it’s already begun—and he wants you to be happy with him.
But you're not. And that already threatens the predictability of your future together. These foreign feelings he has for you are not guaranteed to be requited; something he isn't sure how to accept, and yet he may not have a choice. He cannot force your affection. He cannot demand you grow to love him. All he can do is try and hope that one day, he will win you over.
So that is what he does.
---
@avidreader73 @alwaysadreamingoptimist @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @workof-a-rr-t
#feyd rautha x reader#feyd rautha x you#feyd rautha#dune part 2#austin butler#dune 2#dune#feyd rautha harkonnen
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