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#and shut up you’re not the only one that’s everybody right?
6esiree · 3 hours
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Gen Z Things With The Hazbin Men
Just some funny stuff I saw on Instagram. I’ll do one with the women next! Also, writing for Zestial is so hard like, why does he speak like that? 😭
Alastor:
The Dill-Doe Shirt
“Look at what my darling bought me!” Alastor announces excitedly, stretching his shirt so everybody could see, the word ‘Dill-Doe’ on it. “Ha! Isn’t it hilarious? It’s a doe wearing a dill pickle as a costume!”
“Al, that says Dill-Doe,” Angel says, trying not to laugh. “Do ya know what that is?”
“A what now?” Alastor asks innocently.
“Shut up, Angel!”
Lucifer:
The J in June
“Luci, do you know what the J in June stands for?” You ask Lucifer.
“Oh, I didn’t even know it stood for anything,” Lucifer says. “Well, what is it, hon?”
“The J in June is for the Jiggle in my ass when I walk,” You say, looking over your shoulder as you strut down the hallway.
“I believe you,” Lucifer says, fanning his face as he watches your ass do just that.
“Oh my God, I was just joking!”
Husk:
Spell RUN
“Husk, touch your toes,” You tell Husk, trying to keep a straight face as you discreetly record him.
“Fine, but it better not be somethin’ stupid,” Husk says, bending over and touching his toes.
“Okay, now spell ‘Run’ three times.”
“R-U-N, R-U-N, R-U—“ Husk realizes, his eyes widening as you start laughing while you hold up your phone. “Now, wait a fuckin’ minute.”
“HA! You’re asking if—“ You start, but then he tackles you to the ground.
Vox:
Can I Hold It While You Pee?
“I’m going to the restroom,” Vox announces as he stands up from the couch.
“Wait, let me come with you!” You say, following behind him.
“What, why would you want to do that?” Vox stutters, a horrified look on his face.
“Can I hold it while you pee?” You ask, but he shakes his head as he backs up from you. “At least let me tie a bow on it!”
*Vox teleports out of the room.*
Adam:
Throw Cheeks, Bbg
“Throw cheeks, babygirl,” You tell Adam as you walk into the room.
He instantly turns his backside away from you, covering his ass with his wings.
“NO! I’M NOT THROWING CHEEKS,” Adam yells, folding his arms and shaking his head. “I DON’T WANNA!”
Angel Dust:
Impregnating A Man
“Ya eva’ love ya man so much ya just wish ya were seahorses?” Angel sighs as he looks at you, but you’re too busy scrolling on your phone to notice. “Ta get him pregnant, I mean.”
“Just because he’s a man doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try,” You tell him.
“Huh, yeah, ya right!” Angel says, grabbing your chin and making you look at him. “Wanna try, sweetcheeks?”
“Oh no, I forgot that was me.”
Sir Pentious:
The BBL
“Hey, Pentious!” You greet the serpent, an innocent smile on your face. “Can I give you a BBL?”
“A BBL? What isss that?” Sir Pentious asks you, confused. “If it’s nothing bad, perhaps I could—“
“DON’T SAY YES, THEY BOTCHED MINE!” Angel screeches, barging into the room, two small pillows falling from his skirt.
“IT’S JUST A JOKE!”
Valentino:
I Don’t Take In Strays
“What’s your address?” Valentino texts you. You only gave him your number so he could leave you alone. “I’m spending the night.”
“4351 Pasadena Ave,” You text back.
“That’s the animal shelter?”
“Yeah, they take in strays. Not me, goodnight.”
Saint Peter:
When Did I Ask?
“So, uh, Emily was telling me about this new restaurant that opened up,” Saint Peter starts, nervously wringing his hands together. “And I was wondering if you wanted to go?”
“When?” You asked, trying not to laugh.
“Oh, well—“
“Did I ask?”
Saint Peter’s face drops, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment, losing whatever self-confidence he previously built up to ask you out.
“Oh my God, you poor baby! I’m so, so sorry, I have no self control,” You said, rushing to him and holding his face in your hands, littering him with kisses. “Yes! I’ll go out with you, a million times yes!”
Zestial:
Mike Who Cheese Hairy
“Good morning, sweetness,” Zestial says, leaning down to look at your shirt when you approach him. “Oh? What art thee wearing today?“
He squints as you stretch your shirt, four words written on it: Mike, Who, Cheese, and Hairy. Carmilla’s daughters are staring at you in shock.
“Repeat it and you’ll find out,” You say, a wicked smile on your face.
“Mike…Who…Cheese…Hairy,” Zestial recites out loud, still confused. “I don’t understand?”
“Who said ‘My coochie is hairy?’” Carmilla asks as she walks into the room.
“Zestial!” You burst out laughing, but then she throttles you.
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warnersangell · 3 days
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✦ DAD!JAMIE HEADCANONS ˎˊ˗
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- pairing: dad!jameson hawthorne x mom!reader
- summery: headcanons about dad jamie <3
- warnings: fluff, domestic life, married reader, literal babies, baby problems, family life, both dad jamie because i cant see him with only a boy but i also cant see him with only a girl
- words: tbr
- belle speaks: requested by an anon here! SORRY THIS WAS SO LATE IVE BEEN BUSY LATELY WITH MY BIRTHDAY COMING SOON😿 GRAHHGG
- tags: @sophiesonlinediary @urbanflorals @tornqdowarnings (click here to be added to my taglist! <3)
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✰ he’d totally be the type of dad to try to purposely try to embarrass his kids. whether it be teasing them about their crushes, or telling embarrassing stories about them to their friends.
✰ he lowkey will try to cause chaos with his kids. not enough to annoy you persa, but just enough to make you and the kids laugh.
✰ oh you KNOW he’d be spending money all on his kids. of course he only knows a bit about clothes so you’ll have to come along to help.
✰ he’d make a gmail account for them and make little riddles for them that get harder whenever they grow up.
✰ he’ll be the fun chill dad that everybody loves but he might be a bit overprotective at times like whenever his daughter gets a date.
✰ he’d totally be the type of dad to try to purposely try to embarrass his kids. whether it be teasing them about their crushes, or telling embarrassing stories about them to their friends.
✰ totally will get mad if one of your kids gets into a fight but the second you’re gone he’d be all like “who won?” and “did you beat them up?”
✰ when they were born, he’d just hold their little hands and stare at them. he’d also cry a bit too.
✰ you’ll DEFINITELY be naming them. either it was because of a dare that jameson had to name his future child lighting mcqueen or he’d just wanted to for fun. though those will probably be small nicknames for them soon (much to your demise)
✰ if they’re into sports, he’d definitely go to their games and scream his head off. you’d have to practically smack your hand over his mouth to shut him up lol
✰ he wouldn’t be worried that he’ll be a bad father but he’ll sometimes wonder if he’s doing the right thing or not. he won't really dwindle on it but he’ll ask that to you before bed.
“hey, do you think i’m a good father?” “of course, jamie, why?” “just wondering.”
✰ totally will play dress up with his daughter. he’ll be INTO the act too, whether he was the knight, prince, or princess, he’d act it for her. you and his son would just be trying so hard not to laugh.
✰ lowkey will make them watch pixar, disney, all those movies. he’ll totally make sure they’re watching cars too. (his son realized why he always called him lighting then)
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chellyfishing · 3 months
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maybe we’re all just in plato’s cave actually and it’s impossible to know something about everything and be socially aware and care about everything all the time
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mylifestiles · 1 year
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So tired of tiktok experts telling me everything is always wrong with me?? Please fuck right off?
Genuinely… what gives you the right to diagnose randoms on the internet?
Why do you have such a burning need to blanket everyone with whatever random thought pops into your head??
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middlepartmatt · 1 month
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7 Minutes in Heaven
"baby, let me take the pressure off you. i'll make the first move, and do what i got to” — PLAY WITH ME, rendezvous at two
SUMMARY: at a party, you end up spending 7 minutes in a closet with the quietest boy in school — matt. when the time runs out and you’re both left unsatisfied, you tell him to come find you to finish what you started.
WARNINGS: smut, sub!matt x dom!reader, praise kink, handjob, edging, oral (male receiving)
AUTHOR’S NOTE: no thoughts just sub matt
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────
“Who’s next?”
The living room bustles with excitement, the sounds of voices drowning out the thumping music in the background. You originally came to this party with your best friend, but she quickly disappeared with her boyfriend, leaving you to fend for yourself in this ginormous house. Even though you know almost everyone here from school, you haven’t really spoken to anyone yet, which is very unlike you.
So, when someone suggested 7 minutes in heaven, you immediately nodded your head and sat down alongside everybody else who wanted to play. You’ve been sitting here for over half an hour now, patiently waiting for your turn. You fiddle with the cup in your hands, eagerly waiting to see who's going next. If nobody volunteers, you're thinking of being the one to spin the bottle. It's getting boring sitting out here, and you're in the mood for a bit of fun. It's been a while.
“Matt, you go!”
You turn your head, gaze landing on Chris Sturniolo, a boy in your Chemistry class. You’ve not spoken to him much, but he’s always cracking jokes that often times get him sent out of the room. Next to him is one of his triplet brothers, as Chris nudges his arm and points towards the bottle on the coffee table in the middle.
You don’t know much about Matt, other than that he’s the total opposite of Chris. He’s introverted, quiet, shy. Even the way he’s sitting now shows just how uncomfortable he is, hunched over on the couch, looking sheepish as his glasses slide down his nose slightly. You’re not usually into glasses, but you can’t help but think that they look weirdly cute on him.
“Me?” Matt asks, eyes widening as he turns to his brother. Chris nods enthusiastically, so Matt sighs and reaches forward to spin the bottle.
You watch carefully, bringing your drink up to your lips and taking a long sip. The bottle slowly spins to a stop, and much to everyone’s surprise, it ends up pointing right at you.
You feel everyone’s eyes on you but you ignore it, getting up from the couch and setting your now-empty drink down on the coffee table. You begin heading towards the closet, then turn around when you notice you're the only one who seems to be doing so.
“Are you coming?” you ask Matt, who nods quickly, jumping up from his seat and dusting himself off.
“Y-yeah,” he murmurs awkwardly. It’s clear that he’s nervous from the way he’s struggling to meet your gaze, but this doesn’t faze you. You just turn back around and open the closet door, walking inside.
Matt follows, shutting the door behind him. The two of you are now enclosed in darkness, excluding fairy lights that have been strung around the room to give it a calm ambiance.
You and Matt face each other, and it’s only now that you realize how close the two of you are. His breath is hot as he shakily inhales and exhales, trying to keep his cool around you. His behavior only makes you more curious about him… has he ever been this close with a girl before? Now that you think about it, this is the first party you’ve ever seen him at. Usually, he’s always at home whenever his brothers go out, and at school he often keeps to himself or his small friendship group.
“So… uh- how are you?” Matt asks randomly, looking visibly embarrassed. It's evident that he's never played this game before, either that or his nerves are getting the best of him. You suspect it's a mix of the two, because where else would Matt have played 7 minutes in heaven? It makes you smile a little on the inside, the fact that you're the first doing something to you.
“Good,” you reply, playing along mainly for his sake. He nods at your response, before shaking his head, like he’s at war with himself.
“S-sorry you’re stuck in here with me,” he says, which surprises you. “This is probably a giant waste of time…” he trails off, before his gaze drifts to the floor and he just stares awkwardly at his shoes.
“Matt,” you say then, catching him off guard. His neck snaps up and your eyes meet once again.
“Hm?” he mumbles. It’s almost like he hates the attention on him, from the way he stands so stiffly.
“I don’t mind,” you shrug. It’s not like you’re saying this just to make him feel better, either — you’ve always found something about him strangely hot. Your curiosity about him combined with his attractiveness that he hides behind books and his glasses causes you to unintentionally look for him around the halls at school, wondering about his life much more than you should. He’s nothing like your type, but this somehow makes you even more attracted to him.
“Oh, uh, o-okay,” he stammers, like he doesn’t know how to react to your response. You grin, taking a step closer to him. Your chest is now flushed against his front, and Matt freezes at how close you two are. “Uh…”
“Have you ever been with a girl before?” you ask suddenly, cutting him off. His eyes widen comically and even in this dim lighting, you can see his cheeks turning red.
“Um, no…” he says, ashamed. You feel a burning desire between your legs, because somehow his lack of experience turns you on even more.
“Would you like to be?” you continue. Matt nods. “Yeah…” he says quietly. You look down and notice he’s clenching his fists, veins bulging out of his forearms. You raise your eyebrows, since this sight is something you never would’ve expected from him.
Pushing yourself further against him, your arms snake around his neck and tangle in his hair as you pull him into a kiss. His lips are wet and soft against yours, and you’re pleasantly surprised by how natural this feels despite his lack of experience.
His arms are hanging by his sides, so you pull one of Matt’s hands up onto your waist. He hesitates for a moment, pausing the kiss to quickly glance downwards.
“Are you… sure?” he asks, eyes full of nervous worry. You stay quiet and nod, pulling on his hair to pull him back in for another kiss. His grip on your waist tightens which catches you by surprise, and you can feel Matt smiling slightly as you kiss him.
You tug slightly on his bottom lip with your teeth, and Matt can’t help but let out a small whimper from this. The kiss turns sloppier then as you both get more into it, and subconsciously you find your hand drifting downwards.
He pulls away from you then, eyes wide as he jerks slightly at your touch. Your hand is still hovering just over his dick, such a small space stopping you from touching him through the baggy jeans he’s wearing.
“Oh, I’ve, um, I…” he begins anxiously, his eventually words getting caught in his throat and he falls silent. You raise an eyebrow curiously.
“Have you ever been touched like this by a girl before?” you question, although you already have a suspicion of what his answer will be.
“No,” Matt sighs, using a hand to cover his face due to his embarrassment. You use your other hand to reach up and pull it away, before pressing a short but sweet kiss to his lips. Matt practically melts into it, and you take this as your sign to finally touch him.
You palm his dick through his clothes, and he looks downwards to see what you’re doing. You use your other hand to push his chin back up so you’re making eye contact, then slide his glasses up his nose and back into place.
“Look at me, baby,” you tell him, and he whines at both your hand palming him and the nickname.
Matt’s never been called baby before, obviously, but the moment the word leaves your lips he’s instantly desperate for you to say it again. It almost makes him feel special, like he’s all yours.
You move your hand now to grip him as best you can through his jeans, and Matt’s body immediately responds as he bucks your hips into your palm. “Fuck,” he groans, panting at the feel of your hand on him.
“You like that?” you ask smugly, feeling wetness pooling between your thighs at how worked up he’s getting. You could stay here all night with him, watching him slowly but surely lose all control. And hell, even though he’s inexperienced, you bet he could do things to you that would leave you moaning and panting just as he is right now.
“Mhm,” Matt mumbles, too overwhelmed to say anything else.
“Use your words, Matt,” you say, running your knuckles up and down his cock tentatively. He whimpers, then bites down on his lip to conceal the sound.
“I- I like it,” he responds shortly. You furrow your eyebrows, removing your hand and crossing your arms.
“Is that it?” you ask teasingly, and Matt looks at you pleadingly, almost like a little puppy. His eyes are wide with shock at the sudden lack of touch on him.
“What?” he exclaims, eyes darting from your face to the hand that had just been on his dick. “I- please just touch me again. Please,” he begs, voice full of need.
This satisfies you, so you smile and reach for him again, going to unzip his jeans as the two of you begin making out again. You brush your tongue against his which he reciprocates surprisingly well. This only makes you more desperate for him, frantically toying at his pants to free his cock. You felt how big he was even through his pants, and it’s only made you more needy for him.
A loud knock at the door catches the two of you by surprise and you both quickly break away. Matt’s cheeks are flushed and with shaky hands he readjusts his pants, trying his best to hide the erection you’ve caused.
“Time’s up!” Chris’ voice calls from the other side of the door. You walk past Matt to open the door of the closet, but he reaches forward and grabs your arm before you get the chance.
“W-we can’t leave!” he whisper-shouts, gesturing down to his crotch. “What am I supposed to do about this?” he asks you frantically. You just shrug, a smirk playing on your lips as your mind is filled with ideas.
“Come find me later and I’ll sort that out for you,” you reply casually, before spinning on your heels and exiting the closet.
Matt’s cheeks burn and he feels his dick getting even harder at just the thought of the two of you continuing where you left off, and maybe even going further.
He just hopes he can find the courage to seek you out.
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After leaving the closet, you decided to go and get another drink. You weren't interested in playing the game anymore, instead patiently waiting for a certain someone to seek you out to finish what you started.
There's a growing heat between your legs at the thought, your mind wandering dangerously as you think of all the things you'd like to do to him.
Annoyingly though, you haven't seen Matt in what feels like forever. Somehow, he seems to have disappeared from the party. Every time you see either of his brothers you're filled with an indescribable disappointment when you spot the lack of glasses. Maybe he's too shy, after all.
You set down your now-empty red solo cup and head towards the bathroom. Right as you begin walking down the empty hallway, a hand grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.
Turning around, you're met with none other than Matt standing opposite you. A soft blush covers his cheeks and his mouth is curved slightly upwards in a nervous smile. You briefly gaze downwards, a smirk taking over your lips at the sight of his tented jeans.
"Hi, Matt," you greet him nonchalantly, acting as if you have no idea why he's here. "Haven't seen you in a while."
"Y-yeah," he replies, nodding his head in agreement. "I've been meaning to talk to you."
"Oh yeah? Why's that?" you tease, enjoying the way it makes him squirm uncomfortably.
"I- Uh... Well, you know," he shrugs awkwardly. You raise your eyebrows, acting innocent.
"What?" you question.
"Um..." Matt mumbles, his face scrunching up with shame.
"Use your words, baby," you whisper, leaning closer to him. "Say the words and we'll go upstairs, and I'll touch you wherever you want."
His eyes widen comically at this. Matt opens his mouth to speak, but his words get tangled in his throat and he coughs quietly.
"I, well, I was hoping..." he trails off, losing confidence. But then, he clears his throat and stands up a little straighter. "I was hoping you would, well, get me off."
You smile and nod, shrugging off his grip on your wrist so that you can take his hand, entwining your fingers with Matt's as you drag him upstairs. You pull him into the first empty you find, closing and locking the door behind you.
"Sit down on the bed," you order, and he does exactly as you tell him to. Matt shuffles down the bed so that he's leaning against the headboard, his needy gaze drifting from you to his bulge and back again.
You walk over to him, crawling onto the bed and stopping just in front of him, seductively kneeling before him. You look at his crotch, drawing circles on his thigh with your finger just as you whisper, "You're such a slut, Matt."
His mouth falls open and he shakes his head. "What? No I'm not!" he insists, shaking his head slightly. You tilt your head to the side, batting your eyelashes at him.
"Are you sure?" you ask, your hands drifting upwards to the waistband of his jeans. "Because everyone knows only a slut would come back for more."
Matt gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing up and then back down. Your hand glides up further to cup his dick through his clothes, and he shifts at the touch, breath becoming heavy.
"You're lucky I like sluts," you go on, palming him just as you were in the dark enclosure of the closet earlier.
"Ugh, fuck," he pants at the pressure of the touch.
"You must be so sore," you tease, pressing down harder which makes his hips buck up into your hand. "Do you want me to touch you now, properly?" you ask then.
"Yes, plea- Fuck. Please touch me," Matt barely manages to get out.
"Only because you asked so nicely, baby."
Your hand moves to the zipper of his jeans, which you pull down and Matt lifts his hips so that you can pull his pants and underwear down. He closes his eyes as his cock springs out, the tip a soft red and already leaking slightly from how long he's been waiting. You resist the urge to gasp at the sheer size of him, especially as you eye a thick vein running from the base to his tip.
"Such a pretty cock," you muse, before spitting into your hand and wrapping it around him. A pant escapes Matt's lips as his eyes spring open to see what you're doing to him. Your index finger circles the tip, rubbing some of his precome around it.
"Oh," he breathes, a whimper leaving Matt's lips as you begin to slowly pump him up and down. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth, throwing his head back against the headboard as his body is filled with pleasure at your touch.
You're literally soaking wet by now, having never known how hot it could be to watch a man come undone like Matt's doing right now. The way his lip hangs between his teeth and his chest rises and falls has you practically desperate for him to finish just to see how pretty he looks doing it.
You stop pumping him for a moment and Matt looks back down at you, his lips turned downwards into a frown because of your stopped movement.
"W-why'd you stop?" he asks, looking visibly concerned. "Am I... doing something wrong?"
You could laugh at the absurdity of his statement, but you don't and just shake your head. "No, baby," you reassure him, beginning to trace slow, tempting circles around his tip. You rub the pad of your thumb against his slit, causing him to moan loudly and scrunch his eyes shut. "You're doing so perfect, I almost wanna taste you."
Matt's eyes fly open, his gaze filled with need. You shrug your shoulders. "Would you like that?" you ask, and he frantically nods.
"Y-yes," he says between breaths and groans. "Please taste me."
You grin, shifting closer and straddling his thighs. You lean down over him, sticking out your tongue to teasingly lick his slit. Matt bucks his hips, whimpering, pushing more of himself into your mouth. Your eyes widen in surprise and you pull yourself off of him, looking up to make eye contact with him.
He's gone pale, mouth open and eyes wide as he realizes what he's just done.
"Fuck, I'm so sorry..." he mutters, looking away from your sheepishly.
"Don't be sorry, baby," you reply easily. "It was hot," you add, and Matt's eyes widen, his gaze snapping back to you.
"R-really?" he asks, voice full of pleasant surprise.
"Yeah," you confirm. "You know what else you can do? Grab my hair and push my head down if you want more."
"What?" Matt exclaims, throat bobbing with nervous excitement. "Are you sure? I mean, if you don't want me to- I'm not really very good at this."
"I'm here to make you feel good, Matt," you remind him. "Do whatever you want to me."
The slight change in power dynamic has Matt's heart racing, and his cock twitches just at the thought of watching your head bob up and down on his cock. While he's still creating scenarios in his head, you reach forward and pull his glasses from his face.
"What are you-" Matt cuts himself off as you slide the glasses up your nose, watching him through the lenses. His cheeks turn a bright pink, but you don't give him the chance to say anything else before you get back to work, licking delicate circles around his tip as your hand pumps the lower part of his dick, around the base.
"Fuck!" Matt moans, his head hitting the headboard with a thump from how hard he throws it back. You giggle around his cock at how easily it is for you to rile him.
You continue to bob up and down, your tongue swirling around his cock when all of a sudden you feel his fingers tangle in your hair. He pushes you down further, and with the third thrust of your head you feel him hit the back of your throat. "Shit, that feels so good, mhm..." Matt whimpers, more to himself than you.
His sudden acceptance to be dominant only makes him hotter in your eyes, and you feel your pussy throbbing even more now. Wearing his glasses isn't helping your case. "Fuckkk," he groans, and you close your eyes as the sound echoes in your mind. You love the thought of Matt being yours, all for you to please and pleasure.
"Fuck, I think I'm gonna-" Matt doesn't have the chance to finish his own sentence before you feel a rope of his warm cum shoot into your mouth in quick spurts. You take it all and slowly pull yourself off of him, swallowing the warm liquid.
"Does that feel better, baby?" you ask smugly, looking at Matt's fucked out face as he breathes heavily.
"Mhm, yeah," he mumbles, not entirely there yet. "You make me feel so good."
"You should come to more parties," you tell him, getting up off of the bed to grab some paper towels to clean him up a little. "Then we could do this again."
"Are you serious?" Matt says, eyes wide.
"Of course," you answer, sitting back down next to him and taking off his glasses. You slide them back up his nose so they sit perfectly on his face, then plant a short kiss to his lips. "I'm waiting for my turn, you know?"
Matt remains quiet for a minute, before his cheeks turn bright red. "Oh!" he gasps. "Right- I'm sorry. We should do that now. It's only fair."
"Slow down, pretty boy," you answer, smiling. "I'll let you rest a little. Next time, I promise."
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AUTHOR'S NOTE PT. 2: needy submissive men are so hot UGHHH this was so fun to write. idk if it's that good tho LOL so lmk
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leclsrc · 9 months
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wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1
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genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...
word count: 3.6k  
It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this
auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!
nsfw warnings under the cut!
18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie
It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day. 
To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.
The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—
“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.
His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”
“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.
You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes. 
“What about Max?”
Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”
“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.
“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”
“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”
The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.
Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.
His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.
OK, nice. Did u need something?
No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?
Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.
I thought we agreed no contact unless business
He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.
Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.
Yeah. Got a drink.
I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.
How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.
Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit
Yeah? I missed you today.
Really?
A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.
He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?
You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading. 
So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.
The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.
And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.
It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.
I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.
He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.
So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.
He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.
In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.
He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.
The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.
He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.
You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.
Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.
His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”
One week later
“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”
The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.
You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka. 
Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.
“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”
You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”
“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”
“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”
“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”
“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.
“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”
“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”
He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”
“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.
“Wanna test that out? Come play.”
Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.
“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.
“You got it wrong. Teaching.”
He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.
If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.
You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?
You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.
Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.
“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh. 
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.
You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—
“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.
“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.
“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.
“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.
“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.
“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward. 
“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.
“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.
“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”
“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.
“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.
It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed. 
He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.
“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”
“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.
“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control. 
“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”
“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time. 
“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”
His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.
“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.” 
Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.
“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.
“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.” 
You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.
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flynnriderishot · 3 months
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this may be a lil crazy but can you do a vinnie fic where reader is one of the sturniolo quadruplets? maybe like the fandoms colliding, the “triplets” fans all collectively fake bullying vinnie (I truly feel like if they had a sister she’d be like everybody’s girl crush like maya hawke) and just how they’d be such a cute internet power couple
a/n: i’m so in love with this idea it’s kind of insane 😭 the second i saw it, i started writing. def not the best but i did what i could :)
exposed - v.h
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vinnie leant back in his gaming chair as he stared at his screen. he had taken a pause on his game of valorant to focus on the questions or comments his viewers had for him.
one in particular caught his eye
who’s your celebrity crush?
“i don’t really have a celebrity crush. i mean, you guys know how i feel about margot robbie but if i had to pick someone else, i think i’d say yn sturniolo. she’s freaking gorgeous.”
lmaooo 😭
bro get in line
don’t tell him to get in line, he might as well cut to the front 🙄
she’s so pretty
YN ?!?!
“i take it you guys know her?”
know her⁉️ we love her
that’s bae right there😪
love of my life fr 😫
vinnie stifled a laugh as he eyed the way his phone lit up with a text almost immediately after what he said.
yn 💋
gorgeous???
oh, how generous 😔
he had unknowingly made a habit of responding to your texts as quickly as he could. so without much thinking, he reached forward to grab his phone and respond.
vinnie 🤭
gorgeous, beautiful, stunning, absolutely perfect
i can keep going
yn 💋
please do 😌
i’m kidding. pay attention to your stream, your fans are getting curious
he looked up from his phone, his cheeks flushing a bit at the idea of you watching him. his eyes trailed over to the chat,
what’s bro smiling about?
what are the odds he’s actually messaging yn right now?
zero. bro has no game^^
“bro has no game.” he repeated, chuckling slightly, “you’re not wrong. i’ll play one more game of val and i’m off.”
he placed his headphones over his head, shaking his head slightly, hoping he was nonchalant enough to push away their wonders.
•••
you sat in the backseat of the car with your brother, nick as he spoke to the camera set up on the dashboard.
you could hardly pay attention to what was being said with the way chris kept pushing his seat back against your knees.
“stop!” you hit the seat, instantly getting him to start an arguement.
“you stop yelling!”
matt sighed, he had grown used to yours and chris’ banter, having dealt with it for his entire life. he chopped it up to the two of you being the youngest siblings of them all.
though, with the banter came the closeness between you two, so he knew you were only joking. however, the loud groan nick let out told him to get involved before the argument could escalate to anything more.
“leave her alone, chris.”
“she’s messing with me—“
“no, i’m not.” “no she’s not.”
“shut up! question is: who’s your celeb crushes?”
“i don’t think i have one.” matt shrugged,
“i’ll play it safe and say jacob elordi.”
“i’ll go vinnie hacker.”
chris frowned, turning in his seat to look at you, “that’s not your crush, that’s your boyfriend—“
“um— shut the fuck up?”
“dude, what the hell?”
“just cut it out, nick.” he waved off the eldest triplet, turning his attention back to you, “you can’t say your boyfriend is your celebrity crush, that doesn’t count.”
“they don’t know he’s her boyfriend, dumbass.” matt pointed out.
“just say someone else, we’ll re-film it.”
“no, because then it wouldn’t be authentic.” nick rolled his eyes, “i’ll cut her clip out. way to ruin it.”
“shut up! i was confused.”
“you’re always confused.” you scoffed, earning an offended look, “turn around.”
•••
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vincenzohacks WHAT⁉️ @/lovelyyn you seeing this?
| lovelyyn i’m seeing it 🤔
yn.sturniolo bro…
liked by creator and 24,454 others
mattxliamneeson WTF HAPPENED TO HAVING NO GAME 💀😭 @/vinniehacker
secretlysturn not nick exposing them 🌚
| nicksgiraffehat it was technically chris…
>>> secretlysturn ‘it was technically chris 🤓’ nick edited the video 😒
vinniehacker huh
liked by creator and 42,397 others
| letstrip123 this kind of annoys me 🌝
| hackerxsturn IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE
hackerslovevin it’s the way nick and chris exposed them and have yet to comment 😭
| nicolassturniolo we messed up… @/christophersturniolo
>>> christophersturniolo yeah…
yn.sturniolo @/matthew.sturniolo have i mentioned how you’re my favorite brother?
| matthew.sturniolo once or twice 🤷‍♂️
| christophersturniolo it wasn’t my fault 🙄
| @/yn.sturniolo @/vinniehacker sorry ?
vinniehacker made a post !
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yn.sturniolo made a post !
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taglist: @hearts4chris @timmyandsturniolo @mayhem-72 @luvsturns @knowingnothingnoel @mrsmattyb @itzdarling @julliaaaaaaaaaaaaa @dracoflaco @heartsforchrisandmatt @lily-strnlo @alliehansson @stinkytwinkwinky @mstarniolo
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help-itrappedmyself · 3 months
Text
Dead on Main Part 5
Masterpost
“We have to stop for snacks!” 
“We are not stopping for snacks.”
They started this conversation two whole minutes ago.
“We have to stop for snacks! It is a quintessential part of the road trip experience. This is our first road trip. Do you really want to deprive your family of the full experience?”
Apparently, the Waynes have never been on a full road trip, usually flying places instead, so Dick is insisting we make this a whole experience. Danny is willing to bet car games will be played at some point.
“It’s a long drive, we’re not stopping unless necessary.”
Danny wonders how long the discussion can last as it reaches the four minute mark. 
“ But-”
Tim taps Dick on the shoulder to shut him up. “I have to go to the bathroom.” He deadpans at Bruce. 
Bruce looks at him in the rearview mirror, looks back at the road, looks back at Tim. Bruce sighs.
“Everybody is going to the bathroom. We can get some snacks, and then we are not stopping for at least four hours.” 
Dick cheers, and Danny chuckles at Tim’s smirk. They’ve only been on the road for forty-five minutes, by all rights no one should have to go to the bathroom yet, but Danny was enjoying the family banter in the car.
The first forty-two minutes of the drive was mostly just everyone settling in, Dick in the front as navigator, though it didn’t seem like Bruce needed directions. Danny had asked and he’d never been to Illinois before, but they’re probably still in familiar territory, he might need a map later. Danny is in the back seat, sitting behind Bruce, Tim is sitting behind Dick. Dick and Tim both brought backpacks with them for the drive, Tim has at least two tablets in his. Danny knows they put a bunch of stuff in the trunk as well,  overnight bags and other assorted items, he thinks he saw a pillow. Danny knows somebody went to pack something for him/Jason when they get there, but doesn’t know who. He doesn’t have any entertainment, because he doesn’t have anything except Jason’s phone on him. 
They pull into a gas station, Bruce is determined to get the most out of this stop. Bruce pumps the gas as Danny, Dick, and Tim head inside. They do all go to the bathroom, and Bruce comes in to use the restroom as they raid the snack aisles. Tim has three canned coffees in his hands.
“You know if you drink all of those we’ll have to stop again.” Danny points out. “ Plus it’s late, can you not sleep in cars?”
“Can’t sleep at all usually. We’ll see, but I have some stuff to work on anyway.” Tim points to the drink displays. “Anything you’d like?” 
Danny knows that they don’t mind paying for him, at this point it has been debated multiple times, and he knows he won’t make the whole trip without any snacks. He grabs a Monster and a Gatorade for the road. They meet Dick in the chip aisle. It looks like he’s already grabbed one of every candy, and he’s well on the way to one of every chip.
“Hey, what do you like Danny?” Danny stares at all the food precariously balanced in his arms.
“If you’re sharing, I think we’re good.” 
Dick and Tim laugh.
“We will be sharing most of this. I got all of our favorites, but everyone has something that they’re not willing to share as well. Why don’t you pick out something that’s just for you.”
Tim has grabbed sour gummy worms and is making his way to the checkout counter where Bruce is waiting with a very resigned look on his face. Danny grabs a bag of beef jerky and walks with Dick to the checkout. The look on Bruce’s face when Dick walks up with his arms full is hilarious and Danny actually snorts at Bruce’s ‘I can’t control these children’ apologetic look he gives the cashier as Dick dumps his haul onto the counter.
They pile back into their seats, the seat between Tim and Danny now stuffed with all the snacks. There is not one empty cup holder left in the car. They spend the next short stretch getting resettled, opening up their first snacks and drinks. Tim Pulls out a tablet, but doesn’t start working on anything, too busy texting someone. Danny considers pulling out his phone, remembers it’s not his, and then decides not to. He wouldn’t know the password anyway, maybe he can ask if his brother’s know what it would be.
They’d just about hit the first hour mark on their 12-hour trip when Dick turns around in his chair to face the backseat. Danny sees him slip his phone away.
“Hey, Danny, why don’t you tell us about yourself?” Tim has put his phone down.
“Well, I’m still in highschool. Should graduate soon, hopefully.” Danny starts tapping his fingers on his thighs. He hopes he can graduate. “You know I have a sister in college. I have another sister, she’s a traveler, she doesn’t do school.” 
“Do you like school?” Dick prompts.
“It’s okay.” He shrugs. “I’m not great at it. I like learning, but it’s not a great school and there’s only so much learning you can do from inside a locker.” 
“You fit in a locker?” Tim asks.
Danny looks at himself, quickly realizing that they have no idea what he looks like as he sees Jason’s bulky frame. He chuckles, rubbing the back of his head with a hand.
“Ha, yeah. I’m more…. Tim to Damian size? I think I’m around your height.” He said in Tims direction. “Maybe an inch or two shorter, but I have no muscle mass, so It’s a bit of a squeeze but I fit well enough. Never get stuck. Tucker got stuck once.” 
Dick frowns. “Do a lot of people end up in lockers at your school?” 
“Sure. Me, Tucker, Mikey… Maybe Wes if he ever really pisses someone off. But he’s more likely to annoy me than Dash, and I’m not going to shove him in a locker.”
Tim nods sagely, like he understands high school. Dick is frowning like he doesn’t. 
“Dash a sports guy?” Tim asks.
Danny nods. “Football quarterback and basketball.”
“Geek or nerd?” 
“Personally, nerd probably.” Danny thinks about it. “But there’s not much opportunity to explore engineering and space in high school, so I’m mostly average. Tucker is a big geek, he’s great with computers. Does most of the coding for my more technological fixes when I’m working on my parent’s stuff.”
“You work with your parents a lot?” Dick’s phone chimes, but he ignores it.
“Not with them so much as on their stuff. They create it, they come up with a lot of cool stuff. I reverse-engineered a lot of it once it’s done.” 
“You said a lot of it was weapons?” Tim’s phone dings. “Damian says not to ignore his text.” 
“Oh!” Dick grabs for his phone.
“Some. They built other stuff as well, but they specialize in weapons and defenses against ghosts.” 
Dick immediately turns back to look at him. “Ghosts?” 
Danny could hear the doubt in his voice. He sighs. “Yeah, they’re ecto-biologists. Amity has a big ghost problem, that’s why we live there, they wanted to study them.” Danny has a slight shiver, but suppresses it. “They develop a lot of technology using ectoplasm-” Danny shudders for real this time. His squeezes his eyes closed, feeling a deep roiling in his gut that is vaguely nauseating, and a fire in his brain that is making his blood feel like it's burning. This is strange. His brain goes on overdrive, thinking about his parents, the blob ghosts he has had to free from their basement, the threats they make, them shooting at him. Danny recognises the churning in his body as ectoplasm riling up a core. His core.
But he’s not in his body, he shouldn’t have… Jason has died too. Danny opens his eyes and they’re glowing.
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lincolndjarin · 6 months
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Not So Secret Santa
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javier peña x fem!reader
this is a part of the @pedrostories gift exchange!!
summary : you get the only person you didn't want for your offices secret santa.
warnings/tags : 18+ mdni, enemies/friends to lovers, canon divergence, steve is your boss/close friend, reader and javier have a complicated relationship, reader is insecure, brief mentions of alcohol, porn with plot, smut, light angst, javier and reader fight physically but it's very light with no actual injury, masturbation, semi-public sex, p in v, idk how to properly tag this but javi likes boobs in this so he touches boobs, unprotected sex (don't do this, wrap it this holiday season), use of a makeshift gag, rough yet very loving sex because it's christmas and christmas magic means i can write what i want.
tldr : you and javi have sex in his office and you put his tie in his mouth to shut him up.
word count : 4.4k
✦ : merry christmas @taro-666 !!! i'm your secret santa !!! i hope you're well this holiday season and i hope you enjoy this fic !! i haven't written much peña, despite how much i love him so i hope i did him justice and i hope you have a wonderful holiday <3 <3 (also sorry this is a little late (20 minuetes left before midnight so we're good). i was out with family all day and was only just now able to get to my laptop, i promise i didn't forget about you lmao)
no use of y/n, reader has hair and painted nails & javier sort of half picks her up at one point, nothing else is described besides clothing.
lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics
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“Please, Steve, I’ll give you a week's pay.” You lean across his desk, genuine desperation in your voice after an hour of begging. 
“Not gonna happen.” He doesn’t even bother looking up from his computer.
“A month.” Your voice is starting to pitch up, something similar to anguish in your tone. Your offer finally gets a reaction out of him as his eyes widen, head tilting up.  
“Jesus, you can’t be serious.” He’s examining your expression, trying to determine the sincerity of your claim. 
“My entire Christmas bonus.” 
“Okay, stop.” He sighs, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re not allowed to switch.”
“When did you become such a stickler for the rules?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. 
“It’s just a secret Santa. He’s our friend, whether you like it or not, you two are close and this shouldn’t be this big of a deal, now go, please, I need to finish up here so I can leave at a reasonable hour.” He loosens his tie as you sigh. 
“It’s not just a secret Santa, Steve. It’s an opportunity for him to tell me that I once again didn’t do something right. No matter what I get him, it isn’t going to be good enough.” Even as you’re saying it you can see that he isn’t going to change his mind about this. 
“He’s a dick to everybody. That’s inevitable, it just means he’s comfortable with you.” He’s already turning back to his work. 
“Please, Steve.” 
“No.”
You glare down at him, giving him your angriest look as his gaze tilts back up to meet yours. 
When it’s clear that he isn’t going to switch you turn and leave, slamming his office door in the process. 
“Don’t forget, I need you here early to help set up for the party!” His muffled voice seeps out into the hall as you walk away. 
Once you’re out in your car and far away from prying eyes you unfold the damned slip of paper you’d drawn earlier today. 
Javier P. 
Of course, you got stuck with fucking Peña, a nickname you’d given him a few months ago. He absolutely hates it but the entire time you’ve worked for the DEA he’s gone out of his way to bother you. Sure, he’s your “friend”, in a strange, complicated way. But he still drives you up the wall with his constant need to one up you and the way he’s constantly making passes at women around the office. 
And it’s not like you have any problems with him sleeping around, lord knows you’ve had a fair amount of one night stands, but he just has to hit on every woman you work with. 
Every single woman, except you. 
You’d never admit it of course but a part of you will always be self conscious about that fact. It doesn’t help that Javier absolutely adores bothering you at every possible moment. He loves nothing more than to pester, annoy, and mock you, spending nearly half his day leaning over your desk despite the million complaints you’ve sent Steve about his persistent partner. 
He’ll sit on your desk, doing an endless amount of things to cause you distress. Like crowding you with his cigarette smell and vanilla cologne as he tells you you’re filling papers wrong, or telling you what colors to paint your nails, or solving your cases before you can even get to them, or teasing you about your shitty car. Today he wouldn’t stop bothering you about your weekend plans like he doesn’t already know exactly where you’ll be. 
“Are you doing anything this weekend?” He’d asked with that devastating smirk and eyebrow raise combo. 
“I have to go buy my secret Santa gift, just like everyone else.” You’d turned away, avoiding eye contact as he scoffed. 
“What about Saturday?” He continued to pry, you wanted nothing more than to shove his perfect ass off your desk. 
“The Christmas party, Javi. Just like everyone else.” You had sighed, squeezing the bridge of your nose as Emilia had walked past your desk. Javier immediately forgot your entire conversation as he turned to her. 
“I love your nails.” He’d pushed his hair out of his face, holding his hand out to take hers, getting a closer look at the well manicured designs. 
You had tuned out after that. Not wanting to be involved in the exchange as you went back to typing. Acutely aware of your own nails. 
Red chipped paint. 
You couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to be the object of his affection.
It wouldn’t matter if he did hit on you, you would probably reject him anyway. 
Probably. 
It doesn’t matter, it’s never gonna happen so why let it bother you? 
With a sigh you toss the paper into your cup holder, reaching to turn on the radio, maybe some Christmas music will make you feel better. Of course nothing happens as you turn up the volume knob but it makes you want to scream regardless. 
Stupid fucking Peña. 
Stupid broken radio, stupid shitty car. 
“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath as you shift into drive.
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Before you know it you’re back in your car in the DEA office parking lot, this time a few things are different though. 
You’re dressed nicer, trading your slacks in for a skirt and your dress shirt for a sweater. And of course you now have a small wrapped box in your lap. 
Since you had yesterday off for the holiday you spent your Friday at the mall, searching for a gift for Javier. Eventually you had settled on three little things; Nicotine gum, mostly because you’ll get more work done if he isn’t constantly dragging you outside for his smoke breaks. He complains too much about going alone and it’s always been easier not to argue, now he can stay at your desk with his gum. Beard oil, the fancy stuff he always insists on using in his mustache. You’d bought him the wrong kind last year for his birthday and you still haven’t heard the end of it. And a lighter, you had to beg the shop owner to make an exception and do a same day engraving of his birthday. 
Jesus. 
You know way too much about him. 
You arrived two hours early as requested by Steve to help him set up. With the wrapped box tucked under your arm you anxiously tap the patterned wrapping paper with your freshly manicured nails. 
“You should paint your nails green, I love green.” He had said through a drag of his cigarette. 
Why did you let that idiot's opinions influence this decision? You feel foolish. The green chrome polish shimmering in the street lights in the parking lot as you step into the building. You had extra time while you were waiting for the engraving and you just couldn’t help yourself when the salon was just a few stores away. The image of Javier holding your hand and examining your painted nails while telling you how nice they looked was just too tempting. Maybe he’d even ask if you did it just for him, and you could drag him into a closet at the party, the exact situation you watched unfold last year. Except in that scenario you weren’t the lucky lady he’d run off with that night. 
There’s no time to be thinking like that.
You shake off whatever filth you were imagining as you look around the hectic mess of garland and glitter.
Steve is already stressing, setting up tables as you set your gift under the tree before getting to work. The office is already mostly decorated but with his new position as supervisor Steve is insistent that everything be perfect his first Christmas in charge. So you plate food, and you mix drinks exactly as he wants them, and you hold the ladder steady when he insists on putting more lights up. When you’ve got about a half an hour before guests start arriving you’re finishing up and last minute touches, the two of you crowded around a drink tower. 
The tension from your conversation yesterday seems to have fizzled out as you become engrossed in your work, when you’ve both finished he gives you an appreciative look.
“Thank you, seriously, it means a lot.” You help him adjust his tie as he straightens out his shirt. 
“Anytime, although I’m surprised you didn’t just ask Javier.” You pat his shoulder as you finish, brushing a stray blonde hair out of his eyes. 
He laughs, a nervous chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow but when you open your mouth to comment on it he lets out a relieved sigh as the first of your coworkers arrive.
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More people show up than you could have expected. 
You stay near Steve for most of the beginning until he gets dragged away by one of the higher ups who had made an appearance, leaving you alone to sip your drink against the back wall. You hum along to a Christmas song that plays loud enough to drown out any conversation you might eavesdrop on to entertain yourself in his absence, your eyes scan the crowds as you try to match up the people you work with with their spouses. 
You’re getting ready to find another group to talk to when you catch a glimpse of him standing against the opposite wall, talking to Bonnie, the woman who works in the cubicle next to yours. 
Fucking Peña. Dressed in a stupidly tight green dress shirt. 
You should leave them alone, especially if he’s trying to make a move on her. But you can’t help it as you make your way around the room towards them, a vague sense of jealousy settling in your stomach. 
String lights twinkle across the ceiling of the office, creating a warm ambience throughout the space, just as you’re about to tap him on the shoulder you overhear their conversation. 
“I had to beg Steve to switch with me, took an hour of convincing and a week's paycheck but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.” His back is to you as he leans in closer to Bonnie. 
He’s probably talking about one of the other women from the office. Steve probably had someone Javier was trying to impress and that’s why Steve didn’t want to trade with you, he had already promised his pick to Javier. 
Whatever, you can’t be too bothered about that. It does make you want to return to your spot on the other side of the room but you don’t get the chance to as the music is turned down rather suddenly.
One of the secretaries, Benjamin, stands on a chair, making an announcement that it’s time to do the secret Santa. You manage to twist through the crowds so Javier never sees you, finding his gift and bringing it to where he now stands, simultaneously keeping an eye out for your own gift.  
You hand him the box, watching the way his face lights up. 
“You picked me?” He grins as you nod, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper as you feel a tap on your shoulder. Benjamin waits behind you, leaning in to whisper while you watch Javier open his gift. 
“It was short notice so we didn’t have time to get you a back up gift but your secret Santa told us at the last minute that he forgot to get you something, he promised to bring in something after New Years, I’m so sorry.” You feel a little disappointed as he murmurs but it isn’t that big of a deal, it’s a busy time of year and people can forget things. 
“No worries, do you know who it was? I’d like to at least tell them it’s fine.” You turn away from Javier as he smiles at the nicotine gum, Benjamin's eyes flicker from your face to Javier’s before he gives you a sympathetic look, walking away. 
Javier traded for your name? 
As your head tilts to look at him now you can see the smirk he’s now sporting. 
“ …but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.”
Javier had made a conscious effort to get your name just so he could not get you something.
Huh.
That doesn’t feel great. The look he gets to see on your face is betrayal and then just sadness. You don’t really care what the reason for his decision is, you turn and walk away from him regardless. If he tries to say something to you it’s drowned out by the music that starts once again. 
Why are you so upset over some stupid joke? If it had been anyone else you wouldn’t have cared, you’d have brushed it off as a harmless accident but this wasn’t an accident. 
Maybe he didn’t really think of you as a friend. 
Maybe all of the teasing and one-upmanship really was from a place of animosity and you were just too blind and too infatuated to see it. You want to cry but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction so you sift through the bowl of keys, searching for the Star Wars keychain attached to your lanyard but you can’t find it. The combination of the blaring Christmas songs with the frustration you’re currently feeling only makes you more emotional.  
You don’t want to go to the bathrooms where you might run into someone and you can’t go to Steve’s office because he might be talking to his supervisor, so you go to the only place you know there won’t be people. 
Javier’s office. 
You walk as quickly as you can, slipping inside as you slam the door shut behind you, clicking the lock in place before turning around, resting against the door as you feel tears spilling from your eyes. It isn’t until he clears his throat that your head snaps up.
Today is just not your day.
Did he know you’d come here? How the hell did he beat you here? He’s fidgeting with the lighter you bought him, watching it light and go out as he sits with your keys in his other hand. 
Your face feels hot as you take in the sight of him. 
“Give me my keys.” You hold your hand out, wiping your eyes with the other as you wait. Of course he doesn’t hand them over, that would be too easy and today is insisting on being difficult. 
“I really liked your gift. Seriously, this is… outrageously thoughtful.” He murmurs, seemingly unaware of your mood until he takes a closer look at you, his expression shifting as he realizes your eyes are rimmed with red. “Why are you so upset? What happened?” He slides open a drawer, tossing your keys into his desk while you consider calling a cab. 
What a foolish question. 
How could he possibly not know?
“I want to leave, I’m sick of this party.” You turn to leave, maybe Steve can drive you home. 
“Come on, the parties barely started.” He’s on his feet, he doesn’t try to corner you, if anything he sets himself against the wall. 
“And I want to leave.” When you reach for the doorknob he grabs your wrist, holding it as he stares at you, a look of impatience crosses his face. 
“Don’t tell me you’re mad about the secret Santa.” His brows furrow. 
“This isn’t about a stupid secret Santa.”
“It sure seems like it is.” He’s still holding your wrist, why is he still holding your wrist?  
This isn’t about the secret Santa. It’s a lot more than that, and after ages of keeping your thoughts to yourself in front of him you just let it out. 
“This is about the fact that you don’t even care about me enough to make any sort of effort. I know you deliberately chose me, you specifically chose to do this to me and I don’t care that it’s just a stupid prank. It still- It’s still a shitty thing to do.” Your voice starts cracking half way through and you can feel your eyes welling up again but it doesn’t matter anymore, you were wrong, the two of you aren’t friends. 
“So this is about the secret Santa.” 
Of course he wouldn’t get it. 
“You’re an idiot.” You finally pull your wrist from him. 
You aren’t sure what else to do so you shove him, his back hitting the wall with a soft thud as you push past him to get to his desk, hoping to grab your keys but he catches your waist first. 
“Can you stop being so stubborn for five seconds and just let me explain myself?” You can tell his patience is wearing thin, his voice is strained as he pulls you back against him, caging you against his chest with his arms. 
“Fuck Javi- let me go-” You try to kick his knees but he anticipates it, shifting his legs to avoid you.
“Just wait- listen to me.” He swings you around a bit as he tries to still you, you can feel his breath hitching, the buttons of his shirt digging into your back. The two of you thrash around for another moment until you freeze, feeling something poking your hip. When he realizes why you stopped putting up a fight he lets you go in an instant. “Shit- I-I’m sorry.” He stammers as you turn around towards him, eyes wide. 
You never thought you’d see Javier Peña flustered yet here he is. When you take a step back his cheeks are burning red, his fingers twitch nervously at his side, and as much as you try to ignore it, his pants are tighter than usual. (And considering how tight they usually are this is quite a feat.) He won’t look you in the eye. 
“It- It’s fine, Javi.” You adjust the hem of your skirt, trying to fix your hair. You just can’t catch a break today. “It was an accident, there was a lot of- of friction and it happens. I think I should just go.” You stutter a bit trying to find the right words. This entire evening has been catastrophic, and you’re more than ready to call it a night. 
“It’s not an accident.” He mumbles, finally looking at you, not bothering with subtlety as he adjusts himself. “You should probably go.” 
If it’s not an accident you don’t want to go. 
You want to stay and keep making accidents, starting with rushing forward into him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. Which is exactly what you do. At first he doesn’t react and you worry you read the situation wrong but when you pull away, just an inch, his hands envelop you. 
Hips, waist, back, shoulders, hair. He’s everywhere, all consuming as his teeth graze your lips, in an instant your backside hits his desk.
When he finally does remove his lips from yours his are slick and a tiny bit swollen, his pupils swallow his irises whole. 
“I loved your gift, I wasn’t joking, it’s perfect and the last thing I want is for you to think that I don’t care about you. Of course we’re friends, you-” As he rambles on you ball up the end of his tie, unceremoniously shoving it between his teeth. 
“Talk later, this now.” You grab the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up over your head, watching his jaw tense at the sight of your chest, his hands playing with the strap of your bra as you hop up onto his desk. Hiking your skirt up, he slots himself between your legs, your own fingers push your panties to the side as he reaches behind you, easily twisting the clasp of your bra to release it, tossing it to the side as his enormous palms engulf your breasts. 
You dip your fingers into the wetness between your legs, briefly taking a moment to wonder how you found yourself here. Just moments ago you were ready to leave and consider your friendship with Javier over, yet now you’re spread out on his desk, on display for him as you sink your fingers into your eager cunt. 
You don’t get to linger on the thought for long because he groans into the fabric of his tie and you’re pulled back into the moment. 
Jesus you’re soaked. 
You have no trouble pushing two slick digits into yourself. You can feel the outline of him against your thigh and you know that you need to warm yourself up to take him. He’s too engrossed in your tits to do it right now and you’ve waited too long for this, you don’t want to wait, you just want to have him. 
He’s tender at first, squeezing and softly tracing the outline of your areola until he seemingly can’t control himself any longer and he pinches, rolling your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger as your whine. Back arching of the oak of his desk as you curl your own fingers. Even through the tie his moans are still somehow louder than yours, you’re briefly worried about someone hearing as you let out a whimper while he tweaks your nipple but the music’s so loud at the party you can hear Mariah Carey from here. 
You don’t stop for a second, putting your focus on reaching the peak that you find yourself already getting startlingly close to. You can feel yourself pulsing as you pick up the pace, reveling in the way his eyes devour the very sight of you. You’re agonizingly close when he grabs your wrist, removing your fingers carefully as you try and resist, wanting to finish what you started, you’re about to whine when he begins unzipping his pants. You can feel your pussy clenching at the very sight of him, of course he isn’t wearing any underwear under his dress pants so the second his zipper is fully down his cock springs free.
Javier fucking Peña has a gorgeous cock. 
Standing stiff and proud without either one of you even having to touch it. Pretty and pink on the tip, already leaking down the shaft. And heavy, as he takes it in his hand, his other hand gripping your waist as lines himself at your entrance. He takes a moment, eyes scanning your face, silently asking for permission. 
You can’t nod fast enough but the second that you do he slides into you. 
You could never conjure up something this good in your fantasies. The way he fills you, stretching you open as he whimpers into the fabric of his tie, you like that he listened, that he kept it in his mouth this long. His strokes are needy and fast, like he’s been waiting for this for so long and now he can’t help but be ravenous. You were already painfully close before he filled you with his perfect cock, it takes only a few minutes for you to be right back there. His fingers dig into your waist so hard that you’re certain he’ll leave marks as he slams in and out of you, pulling out almost entirely with every thrust. 
You’re vaguely aware of the sound of his trinkets rolling off his desk and onto the floor. 
“Javi, Javi, Javi.” Between gasps you chant his name, the sound encouraging him as he pushes in deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit until you see stars. Your cunt clenching around him as your orgasm is ripped out of you. Messy and loud and blurry, he fucks you through it. You’re so blissed out you can barely focus on the persistent pounding into you until you manage to come back to your senses and his hands leave your waist, instead intertwining with your fingers as his hips twitch forward and you feel him hastily pull out of you.
He spits his tie out, opting to instead bite your shoulder as he comes, the groan that leaves his throat is obscene. Raspy and filthy as he collapses down on top of you, the two of you sweating and gasping amongst the paperwork and pens now scattered across his desk. 
Did that really just happen?
He manages to collect himself first, leaning back and tucking himself into his pants before quickly tending to you. He grabs a few tissues, wiping your stomach where the product of your activities lay, before redressing you, slipping the flats that had slipped off, back onto your feet, pulling your skirt back down to cover you as he slides your panties back into place, and retrieving your bra and sweater, lifting you into a sitting position as he redresses you, kissing your cheeks, nose, and forehead the entire time. 
“All good?” He whispers, gentler than you’ve ever heard him as you nod, grinning. 
“Good enough to make me forgive you for not getting me a present.” You reach into his drawer, grabbing your keys before sliding off of his desk. 
“Maybe this was your present.” He tilts his head, kissing you again, smiling all the while. 
“That was the perfect gift then.” Probably the best you’ve ever gotten.
“Are you gonna stay for the rest of the party?” He takes your hands in his, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin. 
“I think I need to go to bed after that.” You laugh as you jingle your keys, turning towards the door as he catches your lips in another kiss. 
It makes your heart flutter. The continued affection makes you think this isn’t a one time thing. You want more. You want conversations about feelings, and to talk about what just happened, you want to feel him inside you again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you’re going to get all of that. But right now you’re tired, so the rest can wait. 
“Can I walk you to your car?” You nod as he murmurs.
He doesn’t let go of your hand, walking you out of the building towards your car, opening the door for you and giving you one last kiss with a promise that he’d call you tomorrow, before you watched him walk back into the building.
Your phone buzzes as you turn your key in the ignition, the sound of Wham! fills the car, Last Christmas playing softly. You take your phone out of your pocket, checking the text notification from Javier. 
[ i forgot to tell you how pretty your nails are. merry christmas hermosa ]
Your head turns up in surprise as you realize your radio is working. A new radio system is installed in the center of your dashboard, with a little green bow taped to the top, and a paper tag with Javi’s familiar messy handwriting. 
from : your secret fucking santa
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a/n : happy holidays everyone!!
1K notes · View notes
leaderwonim · 5 months
Text
𓇻 I’M A FEMINIST, OBVIOUSLY, BUT I WOULDN’T REALLY MIND HIM SAVING ME.
▸ PAIRING.. class president!yang jungwon x outcast!fem!reader
▸ SYNP. jang y/n hated yang jungwon. perfect, loved by everybody, class president yang jungwon. people only liked him because he was a man and he was charismatic. however, when she’s being picked on by the girls at school, yang jungwon comes to her rescue, and weirdly, she didn’t mind it?
▸ GENRE. enemies to lovers (it’s one sided though, yn just hates jw😭) angst, mentions of bullying, mentions of sexism, fluff
author’s note: this is based off of olivia rodrigo’s unreleased song! This was honestly so much fun to write and it took me about 3 days cause I fell violently ILL like the day after I started writing😭 As usual, REBLOGS and COMMENTS are so greatly appreciated <33
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Jang Y/N was what people called an outcast. Although she was pretty and had the grades, she heavily disliked half of her class, which in turn, didn’t exactly make her very popular.
“I hate him.” She says as she shoves a spoonful of rice into her mouth. Her only friend was her sister, Wonyoung, who told her that she shouldn’t be so negative all the time.
“Who, Jungwon?” Wonyoung asks, frowning. “Yah Y/N, you can’t hate him forever. He’s nothing but nice to you.”
“I don’t care,” Y/N mumbles angrily, putting away her lunch. “Wonyo, people only like him because he’s a man who can say a few charming words. He smiles and at least half of our class falls onto their knees or something.”
Wonyoung chokes at her sister’s comparison, and can’t help but let out a little laugh. “I’m just saying Y/nie, you can’t just despise him because he seems perfect to the naked eye. In fact, I say become friends with him. It’ll be good for you.”
Y/N shuts down the idea right away, much to Wonyoung’s dismay.
“I am just saying,” Wonyoung stands up, finished with her lunch. “I mean, don’t you find it sad? That you eat lunch everyday with your sister instead of eating with friends or a boyfriend?”
“No,” Y/N says, frowning. “I like eating lunch with you Wonyo.”
“Hm, I guess.”
The Jang sisters lock arms, strolling to their next class. They miss the longing glance that Yang Jungwon sends towards Y/N’s direction, already too far gone into the Decelis Academy hallway.
‏‏‎ ‎
Unfortunately for Y/N, she had her leadership class with Jungwon, where they would discuss things like student politics and how to better the school so that Decelis could stay at its rightful place of number one on private academy rankings.
It was stupid, Y/N thought, Decelis shouldn’t even be close to number one, this school was filled with a bunch of spoilt children who were obsessed with the idea of money and power.
“Is there a problem, Miss. Jang?” The teacher asks, noticing the little scoffs she was adding each time Jungwon spoke about an initiative he wanted to add.
“No,” Y/N shrugs. “I just think Yang Jungwon’s new initiative is just a waste of time. It's not going to solve anything.”
Jungwon smirks, something that Y/N so desperately wants to wipe the floor with. “Y/N, always the critic of my ideas. Very well, let’s hear your brilliant solution.”
She rolls her eyes. Of course Yang Jungwon wanted to pretend to remain civil, if he had blown up on her, it would’ve tarnish his reputation, and Yang Jungwon would be nothing without his reputation, right?
“Instead of your one-size-fits-all approach method, we need personalized mentorship programs. Each student faces unique challenges, and your initiative doesn't address that.”
Jungwon smiles. “Well I suppose you’re right. But perhaps if you actually joined the initiative, you'd understand its effectiveness.”
Y/N grits her teeth, not enjoying how much Yang Jungwon was enjoying this. “Oh, right, because following the herd blindly is the key to success? Unlike half of Decelis’ population, I prefer independent thinking.”
The boy leans closer in, face almost touching the girl. “Sometimes collaboration is the key to progress, Y/N. Try it sometime.”
The two students make eye contact until Y/N breaks, finally pulling her eyes away.
“As usual, Yang Jungwon always has to be right.” She mumbles under her breath. “God, please save me from being in this class any longer,”
‏‏‎ ‎
Y/N throws her backpack on the floor as soon as she steps into her house, not caring about the expensive computer her grandmother had bought her last Christmas that was stuffed inside. Her parents were in the kitchen, discussing something in hushed whispers, almost as if it was top secret.
Always being the curious child, she leans onto the wall that separated the living room and kitchen, trying to make out what the topic was about.
“I’m just worried honey,” she can hear her mom say as her dad rubs her back comfortingly. “Y/N doesn’t have a lot of friends at that school, Wonyoung told me about it. You know she only hangs out with her sister and that’s it?”
“I mean, is it really that bad that she only hangs out with Wonyoung? She’s always been quiet, I think we’ve just got to respect that. She’s an excellent student anyway, there’s no harm in having little friends.”
Although her parents truly just wanted the best for her, Y/N felt like a complete loser by how they were going about it.
She quickly rushed to her room, biting her lip in annoyance at how everybody seemed to have an opinion about her life. She was happy with how it was going, and she didn’t care that her only friend was her sister, Wonyoung was a sweetheart and lived with her, it was a built in best friend for life.
“Just you wait,” Y/N huffs, sharpening her pencil. “I’m gonna go to university, leave this place, and I won’t have to hear about any of these kids ever again.”
‏‏‎
Y/N woke up the next day with a red eye, probably from crying last night despite telling herself she didn’t care.
She cared, a lot.
Romanticizing being alone was fun until she realized that she was truly all alone, with no friends to lean on.
“Is that Jang Y/N?”
Park Jiwon. The devil herself. She was evil as she was pretty, and she had no problem making Y/N’s life a living hell.
“Where’s Wonyoung? Did your own sister finally get tired of you?” Her little group of minions laugh as if it was the funniest thing ever, and Y/N tries and stops herself from giving them all a swing to the face.
“No, but I’m sure you’re used to that feeling, right Jiwon?”
“Oh you little b—”
“Jiwon, you can’t hit her! You’ll get suspended and it’ll go on your permanent record.” Her friend says, which makes the girl straighten up right away.
“You’re lucky Jang,” the girl snarls. “But yah, what were you thinking? Talking back to Jungwon? He’s so smart and handsome, dedicating his time to make initiatives for the school. You should be more grateful.”
She and her minions get so close that they practically push Y/N back onto the locker, suffocating her with their glares.
“Hey, what’s going on here?” The voice of Jungwon doesn’t go unnoticed by a single girl, who, all but Y/N, straighten up their hair when they realize he’s behind them.
“We’re just talking, right Y/N?” Jiwon says, pinching onto the girl tightly.
“Really? It doesn’t seem like it.” Jungwon rolls his eyes. “Park Jiwon, don’t make me give you detention for picking on other students. It doesn’t make you attractive.”
The girl gasps, immediately letting Y/N go as her face heats up in embarrassment.
“I wasn’t—”
“Just go.” With one point of a finger, Yang Jungwon got Park Jiwon and her minions out of the hallway, leaving Y/N and him alone.
“You okay?” He asks her, eyes concerned.
“Thank you,” she breathes out. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Why didn’t I?” He raises his eyebrows. “You were getting picked on.”
“Well, I’m not the nicest to you.” The girl says, suddenly embarrassed. “At all, actually. So thank you Jungwon, really.”
“Ah,” the boy smiles. “It’s nothing. I don’t hate you if that’s what you think, I think you have a brilliant mind just like me.”
And for the first time since she’s stepped into the school, Jang Y/N finds herself liking Yang Jungwon, and not just for his looks.
‏‏‎
“Y/N!” The loud voice of Yang Jungwon doesn’t go by Wonyoung, who gives her sister a smirk as she slightly pushes back her shoulder.
“Wonder why he’s coming,” she teases, which makes Y/N scrunch up her nose in annoyance.
“Would you like to come with me to this new bread place?” He asks, hands on his knees as he catches his breath. “Sorry—I ran all the way from the cabinet office to here.”
“It’s alright,” Y/N giggles, which makes Wonyoung’s eyes pop out of their sockets because she swears she never heard that sound coming from her sister’s mouth before. “I’d love to Jungwon.”
“Great! I’ll uh.. I’ll see you later!”
Wonyoung turns to face Y/N as soon as Jungwon leaves, giving her the biggest grin ever. “What was that?!”
“Let’s just say, I don’t hate Yang Jungwon anymore.” Y/N smiles, laughing as she watches Wonyoung’s jaw practically drop to the ground.
‏‏‎
“It’s cold, isn’t it?” Jungwon says as he and Y/N walk to the new bread place.
“Yes,” Y/N puffs out, “I should’ve brought a jacket.”
Before she knew it, Jungwon already takes off his jacket and wraps it around the girl’s shoulder.
“Jungwon,” she whines, “then you’ll be cold!”
“It’s alright really!” He laughs, giving her a big smile. “I’m practically invincible to cold. Was just asking because you seemed to be freezing.”
“You’re sweet,” she says, looking down at her feet. “I feel really guilty for trying to one up up all the time or prove you wrong. I just hate it, you know?”
“Hate what?”
“You might not realize it but a lot of people don’t want to hear what I say because I’m a woman, and that’s it. Just because I’m a woman. Like sometimes, I have ideas just as brilliant and changing as yours, but everybody says I’m complaining and over analyzing. When you say it, with your handsome face and clear voice, everybody’s suddenly entranced, and they’re so interested in school politics.”
“So you think I’m handsome?”
Y/N rolls her eyes, pushing back Jungwon slightly as he laughs.
“I’m kidding, Y/N. I know what you mean now. I’m sorry that I can’t change how people view and perceive things, but I want you to know that I listen to your ideas, that I care. You might not realize this either but whenever you’re talking, I always listen. Like your initiative about bringing better programs into the school, I listened through the whole thing because I just—I’m inlove with the way you articulate things and the way you speak. If I was half as good at speaking my mind like you were, I’d be unstoppable. You’re a great person, Y/N, and I’m so glad I’m able to see that.”
The way Yang Jungwon speaks about her makes Y/N want to cry and smother him in a hug, which she does a second later by bringing him into a bone crushing hug.
“Thank you Jungwon.” She says, face in his neck. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” He feels like he’s out of breath by how close the two of them were, his heartbeat racing by each second that passed. “I’d do anything for you, Y/N.”
‏‏‎
“Hey!” Y/N is practically used to seeing Yang Jungwon come up to her everyday now, the two even spending lunch together every two days.
“What’s up Yang?” She says, noticing a packet of papers in his hand.
“You know your feedback on my initiative? Your personalized mentorship program idea! The headmaster really liked it and he’s implementing it starting next semester with your name as the credit on it!”
Y/N’s eyes widen in joy, shrieking as her hands unconsciously come in contact with Jungwon’s, the two holding both of each other’s hands tightly as they jumped in happiness.
“You’re amazing Yang Jungwon!” She says giddily, “you really are.”
The two of them stop to stare at one another for a brief second before Jungwon finds himself leaning in, closing the gap between their lips.
When they pull away, the smiles on their faces never fades, Jungwon’s dimple ever so prominent.
“I love you,” Y/N breathes out. “My wonderful class president.”
And although Y/N is a feminist, obviously, she wouldn’t mind a man like Yang Jungwon saving her, for he taught her what love was like, and that she should never ever settle for less.
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charliemwrites · 6 months
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Sniff sniff sneeze… woof
Content: Dub-Con Touching, Dirty Talk, Invasion of Personal Space, Fantasizing
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You’re browsing the back section of the bookstore when the scent of pine tickles your nose. It’s the only warning you get before a large hand lands on your hip, a low voice next to your ear.
“Quite a selection ye’ve got there.”
You nearly drop the stack, only for a thick pair of arms to come from either side, steadying you.
Soap. You stare in shock at the corded muscles of his forearms, the dark tattoo decorating one. His hands are so big and rough against the backs of yours. What would they feel like holding your own, on your wrists, your thighs…
“Th-thanks,” you manage, tucking your books to your chest and spinning around.
He doesn’t give you any room to do so, forcing you to brush up against him. Even pressing your shoulders to the shelves doesn’t offer much space between your bodies; he looms over you, eyes unnaturally bright in the soft bookshop lighting.
“Um… hi,” you manage after a moment, the silence so thick and heavy it’s like a weight on your tongue.
The smile he offers you feels almost mean.
“Hey yourself, hen. Nice to see you without all the…. distractions.”
All the convenient excuses to leave, you think grumpily.
“How - I mean… do you live in town?”
He tilts his head oddly. “Aye, mostly.”
“Mostly?”
He ignores you, eyes flicking again to the titles stacked in your arms.
“Looking for inspiration there, are we?” he asks, tongue rolling slowly over his bottom lip. “Doesn’t all hafta stay in your imagination.”
You flush hotly. Didn’t think he’d even recognize any of those titles.
“That’s not - it’s just for fun,” you babble. “I mean - it’s none of your business either way.”
God, you’ve never wished for Johnny and his man-hating tendencies more.
“‘S a little my business, aye? Gotta know just how you want me to ruin you.” He narrows his eyes a bit in amusement, teeth peeking out with his smirk. “What name you wanna scream.”
You puff up a bit, humiliation thankfully morphing into anger.
“The only name I’m going to call you is — eep!”
He’s got your face in one massive hand, cheeks pressed to your teeth. Your heart thunders in your chest, head spinning with confused adrenaline.
“Maybe we should start right here, eh? I can spank this pretty ass while you try out different names.” He leans in close, lips brushing yours. “If you’re lucky, you’ll find one I like before you lose the ability to sit.”
You whimper and squeeze your eyes shut, mortified to realize the dirt and gravel in his voice is making you slick.
“Stop it,” you whine, pathetic to your own ears.
Then all at once he lets you go and takes a big step back nearly to the other side of the aisle. His smile is easy and friendly, arms swinging casually by his side. The only indication of what he just said, what he just did, is the unnatural gleam in his eye.
“Something like that is what you’re after, aye?” he asks. “Here.” He reaches to the side of you shoulder and plucks a book off the shelf, setting it on top of your selections.
“You’ll like this I think.”
He winks and then saunters off, hands buried in his pockets.
When you get home, Johnny greets you at the door, immediately sniffing all the places Soap touched. He even noses at the book Soap picked out - and dammit, it was one you were looking for. Told yourself you weren’t going to let him ruin it…. and that it means nothing that it’s the first one you’re going to read.
But first…
“I’ll go outside with you in a little bit, bud.”
You head straight for your bedroom and your fully charged toy in the nightstand. Johnny saunters in, ears perked.
“Just… just gotta get it out of my system,” you mutter to yourself. “It’s fine since he’s not here.”
You won’t admit to anyone, ever, not even your dog, that you fantasize about Soap making good on his threat while you fuck yourself. Thinking about that big, calloused hand spanking you raw right there in front of god and everybody while you sob “daddy please.”
The next time you run into Soap - a less raunchy, but still exhilarating encounter in the Tescos where he reminds you get lube - you barely say hi to Johnny before making a beeline for your room. And then promptly throw it at the wall in a fit of frustration when you find the battery dead.
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tim-shii · 3 months
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a/n: im pretty sure this is my first work for haikyuu IM EXCITED I WANNA WATCH THE MOVIE ☹️ accept this offering 🫂 pspsps not beta 🤗 also the word pretty is overused .. i mean suna is pretty so 🧍‍♀️
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“babe, i’m home— woah! i didn’t know we were at this stage in our relationship. finally admitting you’re obsessed with me?”
“shut up, rin.” coming home after a practice match to you lazing around on the couch, wearing his shirt? a jaw dropping view. suna admires the way his band t-shirt hangs loosely around your figure. your hair is a wet mess, you must’ve just taken a shower, and your eyes are practically begging to be closed. yet, suna thinks you look as beautiful as ever. fuck. if you guys weren’t already married, he would’ve proposed to you right there and then because you just look so perfect right now.
the light from your phone illuminates your facial features. his eyes rake from your lashes down to your lips. that brings a smile to his face. he drops his bag by the door and stalks over to where you are, dropping his whole weight on you.
“rin! get off— you’re heavy and sweaty!” try as you might but an over six foot tall athlete boyfriend is not easy to push off. “but you love me!” he buries his head in your neck with a groan.
“if i didn’t, i wouldn’t have a ring with your name engraved on the inside.” you sighed in defeat. to say that suna rintaro is a stubborn man would be an understatement. he’s pettier than a five-year-old and throws tantrums when his affections are rejected or not reciprocated.
he pushes himself up with his arms beside your head and looks down at you with a grin that only means mischief. “you are so in love and obsessed with me that you steal shirts from my closet. aren’t you a cutie?” he squeezes your cheeks with a calloused hand and makes kissing noises. he’s so stupid, you think. you just wanna stupidly shut him up.
and so you did, pulling down his chin with a hand of your own. capturing his lips in a fervor kiss comes easy as breathing. you feel his breath hitch for a second before he returns the favor.
suna pulls away first, slapping a palm over your mouth after. (“mmph?!” you glared)
“you are a menace. taking advantage of a man like me? evil!” he pulls his palm away and bit your cheek.
“i married a drama queen.” you rolled your eyes.
“you love this drama queen!”
“you sure about that? what if i married you for your money? or i married you for your— i don’t know, looks.” suna narrows his eyes at you before a mischievous grin spreads across his pretty face.
“i don’t know, babe. your vows said otherwise. what was it again? i am the luckiest person alive to be standing with you today and to be facing life with you everyday—”
“liar! those weren’t my vows!” you shove a throw pillow on his pretty face. “that is so cringe, i would never say that.”
“you are cringe. you would a hundred percent say that. hell, you’ll say something even more cringe than that.”
“you’re the cringe one. running to the stands and kissing me in front of everybody right after a game that you lost!”
“hey! i’m sensitive about that.” of course, he pouts at you. a frown on his pretty face resembling a kicked puppy.
“you insulted my vows.”
“i did not insult your vows. i was just.. recalling and rephrasing them.”
“that wasn’t anything near my vows. how dare you. i didn’t sleep for three nights writing those.” suna attacks your face again. littering kisses all over your pretty face.
“rin, stop it— your fucking saliva—”
“i love you, too.” he murmurs, plopping a kiss tied with passion and adoration on your lips.
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likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist
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gangplanksorenji · 5 months
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Kinknuary Day 20: Choking
Pairing: ITZY Yeji  x Male Reader
Word Count: 5,582
[Kinknuary Masterlist]
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“Going somewhere, huh?”
“Don’t talk to me.”
She’s a killer and a villain—those eyes strike daggers towards you to distance yourself away from her because if you don’t, then you’ll feel her wrath and you’re not going to like it. Stuck on an elevator, she seem repugnant about your demeanor, more so, your existence—you weren’t even lying onto that line but you guess that’s just how she judges you, and you’re in power to influence her with that as one word that comes out of your mouth is just drawing yourself closer to hell.
Of course, you love the risk and you’ll break it apart from her, no matter what happens.
“I don’t know why you are acting like this, Yeji?”
“And why the fuck are you even here?” Yeji retorts, laced with venom as her fierce eyes glared at you, making you pique your interest about her even more.
“I’ll attend a party, that’s why and you can’t stop me, Yeji.”
“I don’t fucking care—go on and just don’t be near me.” You can sense how she really despises you and it’s all going well according to plan—even though you know how she truly doesn’t like your presence, you can sense how it’s maybe a faux demeanor of hers and it’s a strong one. Maybe it’s just your way of clothing that she intensely disgusts because you caught her in the act—her eyes really lit up once she saw your body and you could only think of how she’s thirsty for you but of course, she needs to act tough because she’s always been like that.
“You know and probably, everybody knows in this company how I always like riding in elevators alone, unless it’s the specific people I want in and your stubborn brain probably didn’t know this, don’t you?” Yeji remarks and slaps you with what she’s entitled to and of course, you brush those off because the world doesn’t always go on her path, even luck not even lying on her side as always.
“I’m not stubborn and that’s not how it always works, Yeji—” Your choice of words infuriates her as she glares at you, her rage unable to be contained further as she lashes out how she’s so ungrateful to be in the same, compact space with her and god, you just want to shut that bratty mouth of hers.
“You shut the fuck up and listen—my dad is the C—E—fucking—O of this company and you wouldn’t dare to—oh!” The both of you yelp in response as the elevator thuds a little, knowing something’s off and that hint of anxiety kicking in because of the fear coursing down your veins.
“Fuck, we’re stuck in the elevator—oh no…”
“Yeah no shit, smarthead…” Yeji chides as the latter is filled with sarcasm, feeling uneasy as she doesn’t want to be late to the party upstairs and quickly contacts the emergency services but with an expected response, they wouldn’t meet Yeji’s complaints as you laugh because of her immediate panic and struggles.
“Twenty minutes? You’re joking, right? But please, can you just be quick cause’ I don’t want to die here because of suffocation! I’m telling this to my daddy!!”
You know that she’s over exaggerating and selfish, in all means because first of all: elevators are ventilated and you neither of you will suffocate because of this and second of all, she should’ve expected the slow service and just be patient, not acting like a goddamn brat just because of her connections and nepotism—god, you really hate her but you can’t lie, you find her incredibly hot and pretty that you just want to teach her a lesson that will sure make her a different person once you’re done with her but that would be settling on your imagination, for now.
“Stop over exaggerating Yeji, we will be fine here—”
“Shut up, loser! If it weren’t for you, this wouldn’t happen! You’re such a walking bad luck, argh, gosh!” Of course, Yeji would always respond like her anger is boiling through the roof and holding a deep grudge against you—you barely know each other and she’s acting like a psychotic freak who's always thinking for herself and you, will change that.
“You know your whining wouldn’t help anything, Yeji.” You feign a little concern over her, knowing that having a calm disposition and being completely composed would make both of your minds in a better state but because of her stubbornness and the unwilling act towards your suggestions, it will just put some salt onto the wound as she whines more because of you and how she detests you.
“Just shut the fuck up—-hah, god…” Yeji rests her head onto the metal walls, feeling defeated as being stuck in an elevator are one of the last few things she wants to see and she’s not really having it. You know with the complete silence of hers, marks something that there’s something unorthodox happening in her—you could catch her taking a glimpse of your body and maybe even your crotch but she wouldn’t mind even interacting seductively towards you and you don’t mind it because time will tell about each other’s fate.
Well, maybe the stars are aligning and something’s swerving inside her—she’s being unorthodox as something disturbing the force—
“Props to you though, you have a nice body…” Yeji catches you off-guard, averting her eyes towards you as she presents a coy demeanor with her faint smirks from time to time. You don’t know what got into her but you wouldn’t complain, and it’s drawing herself closer to your plan and you’re absolutely loving where this may go but of course, you need to fake your demeanor and won’t switch up easily.
“And what got into you, Yeji?”
“Oh, come on. I know I acted like a bitch earlier and I apologize for that—” Yeji inches closer towards you, her strong, floral scent nudging against your nose as you can feel the heat emanating from her, captivating you even more but you fight against that urge of yours, for now. “—won’t you wanna have some fun for now?”
She’s clearly alluring you towards something you’re probably oblivious of—of course, your clever mind isn’t nowhere near that, and you know where this will end as your cognizant mind will take this as a golden opportunity for your deepest desires.
“Is this the way you really want to kill time, Yeji?” There’s no frivolous disposition that can be seen on your face as you’re faking your disbelief against her suggestive propositions. 
“Then what other way can you think of, hm?” You shrug, clueless about what could be the answer of your own question as she proves her point even further. “See? Nothing.I mean, we’re going to be stuck here for a while so…” Yeji inches closer towards you, feeling her hot, minty breath brushing against your nose as she smiles at you like a vixen, seducing with her sultry tone and her dainty fingers tracing circles at your chest. “Shall we have some fun?”
As much as you want to deny her, Yeji herself exudes such exuberance and hotness that you can’t resist—mostly her calm yet enthusiastic approach made for your decision and her beauty is beyond exceptional on your own books and you would love to get that fun with her, or rather, in her.
“You know—I know how you want to fuck me with those eyes. I can sense them, hm…” Her fingers run onto the hem of your sleeves up to your collar, subtly teasing you as her voice makes you melt and fall under her spell. “Maybe it’s time for a test, you know?”
You mock her, intimidating her as she just smiles with your constant rants, knowing that you’ll fall into the abyss of desires soon and you can sense it in her eyes, that’s why you want to play. “Do you think that’s going to work, Yeji? Oh please, make me~”
“You’ll see…” Yeji’s taunting gaze sends you into a state of captivation, where butterflies seemingly take over your stomach, making you fall for her attractive advances towards you and there’s no way in this world you’ll ever find herself unable to allure you. You know she’s growing impatient once she knelt down hurriedly and looked up at you, with a smirk as she’s about to be delighted with a treat that she’s been longing for. 
“You don’t mind this, don’t you?”
“Well, do your thing, Yeji—it’s like I can stop you from here.”
Yeji scoffs as her hubris intimidates you, knowing how you’ll easily bite into her trap and your words laced with sincerity. “Glad you knew that.”
Not going to play with such golden time, she treasures every second and gives you a sinister smirk before tugging your pants and unbuttoning it, deftly enough before you could even comprehend what she’s been really doing to you. Yeji’s hands swiftly caressed its way to your thighs, making your little member grow enraged, filling it with lust as she eyes on it like its prey, her voracious needs only clouded her mind to slobber all over it and savor every second of tasting it. “You know you made me this stressed? Then, I guess I’ll need to find a way to de-stress myself using you.”
Without uttering a single word anymore, she swiftly brings your boxers down to your ankles as she’s flummoxed with your erected-length, almost hitting her in the face. Her pupils gradually dilated, her eyelids fluttering as she’s attracted to the musky scent of your shaft and the incredible length on it and with her curiosity peaking, she brought her hands around the base of it and stroked it slowly. Her touch brings you down onto your knees (figuratively) as the coldness of it breaks the heated atmosphere that has been emanating because of such suggestive actions.
“You know, let me share one thing about me.” Yeji flickered her tongue against your sensitive head, tasting only a hint of you as she never broke her intimidating façade, making your ears piqued onto listening to only her. “I like choking on a good fucking cock like this, hmmm—mwah, this is so perfect to look at and god, you know how I’ve wanting this for a long time now…”
She does love choking on a good fucking cock like yours, moreso, sucking it as her lips peppered kisses all over the vicinity of your shaft, not leaving any area untouched with her soft, plump flesh. You can bet her lipstick stains will stay onto the base of your shaft for later, and you’re just anticipating that because she’s nearing her way there, now taking a desirable length of your dick inside her slutty mouth.
Even though she’s clouding your mind with the stupendous work of her vacuum of a godlike mouth, you can’t help but think on why her demeanor suddenly changed. You know it has to be the unbearable boredom or she saw something in you that she became starved—yes, your goddamn crotch was her weakness and it wasn’t even hard for that to be not obvious. Her constant eyeing and lip bites was just enough for a strong evidence of hungers towards you and you just can’t believe how everything escalated quickly right now—you just can’t believe the fact that the C.E.O’s daughter is basically giving you mind-boggling blowjob at an elevator and the best you can do is to savor every second on what her lips can muster.
“So hungry for my cock, hm?”
Yeji constantly slurps on your succulent shaft as it took her a second to respond, too concentrated on sucking you off and giving you the most intense pleasure of all time. “Yeah—no shit why I slurped so hard on this delicious dick of yours.” 
She continues her oral masterclass with more bobs as she takes you halfway in, slurping onto your length like it’s a delicious meal. She then grabs your hips for a better leverage on sucking you off and without anymore foreplay, it is time for the main event on why she even got into this mess in the first place. Constant bobbing ensues as the pace escalates ridiculously, you moaning in delight as you get to experience such fine pleasure from the beautiful orange-headed girl in front of you and you couldn’t really ask for more now. The hollowing suction of her cheeks tends to really make you feeble, pairing it alongside her talented mouth slobbering all over your shaft and making a filthy mess with her copious amounts of drool. You already knew how she loved the living fuck out of your cock when saliva inevitably seeps out of her mouth and lathering everything it meets around the vicinity and with that sight alone, is extremely arousing in levels you can’t even comprehend—add up the mascara running down her cheeks due to her tears running down because of her aggressive actions on your shaft, pushing herself over the limits.
You know Yeji won’t have enough nor even bother speaking at you when your addictive length is over her sight, ready for her slobber on and wanting her to pull out and give herself a breather, you mock her about how she’s not taking you whole and how she can do better than this. Everything that's happening right now is going well just according to your plan and you can’t wait for her to get baited to your trap as it’s just meters away from a surprise you wanted her to take.
“You know how I need to fucking taste every inch of you first, isn’t that ri—mmfh—mfh!!”
“Just shut the fuck up and choke on my cock, Yeji.” You know you can’t bear her talkative mouth to be all over the place, constantly ringing around ear when you can shut her up with a heartbeat, or rather, your entire length curried inside her slutty throat. You catch her off-guard with your actions but she doesn't complain but rather, further pushes herself more until her sharp nose is buried onto your pelvis, deepthroating you with hints of ease and struggles because of her constant gags.
Her iron will to penetrate herself deeper using her throat is phenomenal, and rather gave you the best oral service you’ve ever had as she bobbed her head furiously on your shaft, signaling her starvation onto it like it’s her favorite popsicle—this will be definitely her favorite popsicle to suck on, knowing how she’s enlightened on how succulent it is. She alternates between breakneck bobs up to five-second deepthroats which make you moan in need and your member throbbing violently because of its tightness.
She definitely loves choking on a good cock, she really does and this is just getting started.
“Fuck—your d-dick, it’s incredibly delicious—hmm, mwah, I l-love it…” Yeji continues to suck on your swollen slit, lapping the leaking precum coming out of it as her vixen eyes averted towards you, probably proposing to you something that you wouldn’t deny. “Give me your phone, quick.”
You can’t really comprehend what the hell is going through her right now—
“Come on, give me your phone! I don’t have all day…”
Well, you know what’s going to happen now and you would love to have a bad bitch like her to be just a call away on your contacts. Pulling your phone from the pockets inside your long sleeve suit, you quickly gave it to her as she grabbed it swiftly, going to your phone log and typing her number with a single hand and honestly, you’re impressed with her multitasking as it’s difficult to avert your attention onto two different things and giving them equal attention. You can clearly see the dexterity of her fingers as tapped the numbers correctly (probably) as she’s still ensuing a great pace with her other hand gripping your hips for the best leverage.
“Here you go…” Yeji then gives your phone back to you as you insert it in your pocket yet you’re in utter shock at what she just did and decided to really ask her about how worthy you are to save her number on your phone.
“But w-why? Didn’t you hate me for just breathing earlier?”
Yeji, again, didn’t respond attentively as she’s occupied in both ways: her mouth and her brain all averted onto her oral masterclass as after a few more bobs, she pulls her incredible suction of your constantly throbbing member, preparing herself to answer your profound question.
“This cock…” Yeji gives your length leisure strokes as you subtly moan in response, her hands really giving the paramount of pleasure as she continues her hand work all over your member. “Is my type, and you’re actually cute, honestly—I don’t know, should’ve not judged you that harshly earlier if you’re treating me this fucking beast.” She slaps her face with your rock-hard shaft as she continues her oral session with no time to waste. With an incredible pace already being ensued by her skillful mouth, you can’t help but just indulge to the gratification that she’s giving and to further make it worse, she doubled the time of her deepthroats between mind-boggling bobs, which completely makes you lose your own mind—most likely, in the verge of it but you’re doing your utter best to fight against it.
Knowing how close you can be with your member constantly throbbing onto her tight, pleasurable mouth, Yeji knows how she can make this mess a lot more filthier than what she has already done, further setting you up onto an arousing sight that will never forget.
“Why don’t you fuck my face to add up the mess, hm?” Yeji seduces you with her sultry voice as she lures you in to your deepest, lustful desires of filthiness and thinking about it, makes you even want to dive in to your temptations—you’re already given this golden opportunity, and it’s up to you to take it.
You should take it, you’re not going to lose anything about this but have everything to win it all—“Then I’ll fuck your goddamn face, Yeji—”
She gags on the spot as it comes with another one, constantly struggling with your entire length shoved down her throat as she encourages you even go rougher and with the given green light, you let the feral beast inside you go berserk.
You grab onto her orange locks, pulling it to form some makeshift-pigtails and further gave it all—you can find your hips ensuing a velocity that you thought you could never muster, as it goes rough on her mouth, pounding it like it’s going to be your last. This definitely wouldn’t be your last, and this will be your introduction to her own world as you continue thrusting into her mouth in full force, her constant sounds of her gags becoming apparent that it resonates around the elevator—you just hope no one would hear the profanities and sin the both of you are moaning about. You can see the filthy mess that has been all throughout her beautiful visage as the once fierce and modest vixen was now degraded into a perfect, sullied mess and it’s just the best thing to lay your eyes upon.
“You want to fucking choke on it? Then fucking choke it, Yeji. This slutty mouth is so tight I’ll pound this until your throat becomes sore, do you understand?” Yeji could only nod as your rampant thrusts makes her yelp because of your rough treatment—you know how much she loves this as the lustful glint in her eyes says a lot, now being converted to tears that adds up to the ruined mess that further ignites the heat of the sinful atmosphere. It wouldn’t be that long before your reservoir comes into a breaking point—you could feel yourself closing in and there’s no better way to end this on a complete filthy mess of a Hwang Yeji, on her knees, begging for your damn load to be deposited deep in her throat.
“Going to cum—you better take it all, Yeji—” She just constantly gags as the concoction of different, indistinguishable liquids are just all over the place sets up the most arousing part yet. You bury her nose into pelvis again, your balls pressed onto her chin as you unload everything you got, to the point of no-return and god, you’re just in heaven because of how enchanting this experience is.
Surprising enough, she takes it all as every spurt that shoots down on her walls makes her yelp in warmth but she fights to the urge of pulling out, not wanting to disappoint you in any means. She knows what she’s up to and a masterclass of her act, as she shows the abundance of your thick, warm semen at her tongue and suddenly, with two gulps, it all faded away from your sight within a blink of an eye, all stored for her to be savored by her stomach.
“God—that’s fucking delicious, not gonna lie to you, shit…” Yeji, still perplexed by what just happened, continues to compliment the taste of your seed as you smile because of it, your confidence now going over the roof. She smiles in return because of your harsh treatment on her mouth, loving every second she chokes and gags onto your whole length as she wants more of it but sadly, all great things won’t last for an eternity, meeting its painful demise as surprisingly, the elevator can now be felt working finally as you feel the both of you going up.
Now cleaning both of yourselves up, you prepare and make yourself presentable because of a freaky session the both of you went into by Yeji as she breaks the awkward silence. “Aren’t you going to join a party?”
“Nah, I was kidding earlier—I’m actually going to just meet someone way up the building but I guess we got stuck here so… yeah.”
Yeji nods as she further wipes her tears with some tissues, the elevator can be heard by a single ding, marking the arrival of her destination.
“I guess this marks the end of our meeting, hm?”
“I guess so…” You scoff as Yeji scouts herself out of the elevator but before she does so, she leaves words for you for further reassurance.
“I’m not done with you, meet me at the ground floor at 11 P.M. You better be there because I need to know you more, baby.”
And there, your heart beats unexplainably fast before the elevator doors close and you could just see her scrumptious frame swaying, walking like a model of your dreams and god, what a fucking experience you dived yourself into and it all feels like a damn dream…
---
“Didn’t really miss my call, hm—ohh…”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”
You continue peppering her neck with kisses that further ignites the heat of the atmosphere around, making everything a runback on what happened earlier but this is way better and more intimate than ever before. Yes, this was just the girl who despised your existence earlier and is now equally naked as you are, sharing such intimate kisses and filthy talks meant to arouse the both of you, up to the roof.
“Was really hesitating at first but—” Your soft pecks releases the sultriest moans from her lips, voicing out how incredibly skilled you are with your lips and how you can make her feel good, yet you continue, “—I know how genuine your tone is, and probably, wishing for chance…”
Yeji looks at your eyes, endeared but full of lust as she speaks at you, “And that chance is fulfilled right now…”.
This is just phenomenal, no matter what you say. You still can’t fathom how this is real but you’re not complaining at any means but rather, cherish every second that passes with this beautiful woman. Now, with Yeji pulling herself out of your lips’ warm embrace, she can’t contain her primal urges anymore and with the scrumptious sight of her, the feelings are just mutual as she breaks another silence—“Fuck me now, baby. Show me what you got.”
Giving her a faint smile and then a smirk, you then let her lie down on the bed as she rests on but then, you got to know how she really wanted it as you want to treat her roughly but in her own accord. “I want it from behind, baby—where you can see everything you want to see~”
You never expected Yeji to lay such a perfect invitation for you, her lazy, sultry voice alongside her momentary alluring moves towards you just makes your heart be captivated and you can’t ask for more with that. With her constant wringing of her ass for you to further fall onto your deepest temptations, you brushed your full-erected cock onto the heat of her core, teasing her with a pace similar to being stagnant in which she whines because of your leisure actions.
“Don’t tease me, baby—I want it all rough inside me—please, ohh…”
As much as you want to do the opposite, the thought of being rough towards Yeji is turning you on so much that you could imagine all of the possible ways to really sully her into oblivion. That wouldn’t lay onto the cloud of thoughts as soon as you place both of your hands on her hips, caressing them to further absorb that lustful energy she’s emanating by her constant sways and within a second, it all went onto the state of utter bliss.
Like what Yeji said from the beginning, she wanted it rough with you then you’ll have it that way as your hips ensued such a ruthless pace, not giving her a breather as you caught her off-guard, constantly whimpering with your whole length ravaging her velvety walls without a break. Of course, you’re merciful, you won’t commit at such a ridiculous pace enough to break her but with her complete wetness, it didn’t become a struggle to pound her yet her inevitable tightness would like to have a talk, constant gripping on your shaft like it wouldn’t let go.
“You’re fucking t-tight, Yeji—god!”
“And you’re fucking big i-inside—ahh, m-me—but fuck me anyways!!”
Of course you will, as you completely disassemble her tough, bitchy demeanor into a state of submissiveness, further oscillating your hips onto a constant rampage of ruthless thrusts that makes both parties succumb onto their deepest desires—all committed onto the most sinful act possible in mankind. Her moans became orchestrated to the point it became a subsequent noise that’s music to your ears and it’s just making your arousal skyrocket up to the sky. With her buttcheeks constantly getting shaken like an earthquake because of such powerful magnitudes of your thrusts, you compose a proposition that will make everything elevated: slapping the porcelain skin of her butt would probably ignite the lust even more, and you did just that. Yeji loves how you’re going rough on her backside as the constant clashing of bodies denounce the deepest sinful act the both of you could possibly be into and she further encourages you for more but something’s breaking the lustful noise with her profound wants.
“Gosh—ahh, fuck! Choke m-me while you’re—gahh, f-fucking me, please! Fucking c-choke me—oh my god!!”
You saw that coming and thought she would actually forget about that because of your length constantly ramming her tight cunt which makes her brain go haywire and would only think of your constantly-rough treatment. You never knew a girl like Yeji would be into such a wild fetish and you can’t blame her for that—the fact that she treated your cock in her mouth earlier all sloppily and ruthless says the fact that both feelings are mutual, again.
With her wants all over the way, she didn’t even bother to talk as you fulfill her request, further pounding into her tightness while wrapping your hand almost around her neck with your palm onto her nape, further igniting the lustful asphyxiation that she’s been into. Her moans now are becoming broken because of the lack of oxygen as the thrill turns Yeji on, more than what you could expect and guess what, it’s maybe evident that it’s one of her real fetishes. You can find her tight cunt constricting around your rapid length as the utmost stimulation and lack of breath is overloading her senses, between the risky play of life and death coming to play as she moans erotically because of your actions. You don’t want a beautiful girl laying down unconscious as with her constant swears, you let go of your tight grip around her neck as she catches her breath as soon as you let her airflow be present again.
Formulating the right ways to make her arousal go up in the sky, you alternate your hands on spanking her buttcheeks and choking her neck, the play of her fetishes finally making the experience of sex more elevated, her subsequent moans letting you know how much she loves it. You could really feel the utter wetness that has been seeping out of her core right now, forming rivulets of her own juices and coating what it can around the vicinity—might as well change her bed sheets because Yeji wouldn’t help sleeping on a wet bed mostly because of her. Because of your ridiculous pace and your rough treatment towards her, Yeji can’t help raise the volume of her angelic moans and soon enough, her highly-anticipated high.
“Oh my g-god—choke m-me, baby—I wanna f-fucking cum while—you, ahh—choke m-me!!”
Then you’ll fulfill her needs because she’s the star of this show, and you’ll do whatever she requests you to do. You maintain your firm grip around her neck as your other hand grabs her hips, opting for a great leverage onto chasing her own high, ravaging her tight pussy like it’s her last. With your harsh onslaughts of ramming thrusts, it wouldn’t take long before she reaches her desired peak, coming closer to the promised land and then letting out series of sultry profanities—
“Fuck—I’m g-gonna c-cum, baby!!”
With the constant pulsation of her cunt, you know her high is approaching a near velocity as you gave her the final thrusts she deserves. Yeji, not minding her orgasm from breaking her apart, wants you to continue ravaging her pussy even though she’s in the ascending state of bliss, so euphoric that she can’t be arsed to think about anything but her orgasmic trance. You do as she says so and god, she’s climaxing hard, multiple streams of her own nectar flowing out around your constantly-ramming length as she screams in delight, further closing herself towards peak gratification.
“I know y-you’re going to cum s-soon—please—ahh, c-cum inside me—oh god, fuck!!”
She knows how close you are as she helps you to reach your own anticipated high, further fucking her scrumptious frame onto your raging length until it’s all too much to handle and you could only succumb onto the inevitable fate of your own orgasm. Releasing the grip around her neck, you gently grabbed her perky mounds and fondled it, making her whimper in need as you bury your entire length in her, filling her up to the hilt with multiple spurts of your creamy mess, painting every inch of her hugging walls white. You groan because of the intense pleasure coursing down your veins, every thrust opting to extend your orgasm as she’s too insatiable for you to stop yet your mind does so, inevitably slowing down your hips as your orgasmic trance is now meeting its demise, and you, utterly enervated and feeling euphoric. You slowly pull out of her as your member is getting flaccid, admiring the mess you’ve made between her snug hole as you feel like you’re in heaven right now and, god, this is splendid.
“You came a lot, baby~” Yeji is in subtle awe as she looks at the cum-filled mess you’ve deposited inside her but then, worry settles in and Yeji being clever, reassures you that everything’s going to be alright.
“You’re fine, baby—I’m safe today…” Yeji then grabs your muscular arms, pulling you into a torrid kiss as she savors the taste of you, making sure that both parties will be elevated into utmost affection and endearment. You then pull out right after as you admire her beautiful visage, every feature making you in awe as she’s the epitome of perfection and you couldn’t ask for more.
“God—I just can’t get enough of you, Yeji…”
“And I can’t, either.” You continue peppering her with kisses as you worship her neck with multiple pecks, making her subtly moan as she voices out her satisfaction with almost-inaudible moans. “You can sleep with me here, for the night—I need to know you more…”
You scoff as you're in utter shock, not knowing that it will end up like this—you may have or have not expected this outcome, to be honest—but nonetheless, you’ll take it. Yeji then gets up from her previous lying position, legs still a little wobbly as you wanted to help but she didn’t insist on it, letting you know that she can do it on her own yet you can hear her voice, calling you out and presenting another proposition.
“Another round in the showers? There’s plenty of room here, baby~”
And maybe you’ll end this stupendous day with another load buried deep inside her cunt—
948 notes · View notes
freedomfireflies · 9 months
Text
Jealous*
Summary: The fourth part to 404*
The one where Harry's even more annoying when he's jealous.
But he's kind of cute, too.
Word Count: 5.6k
*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*
(Note: This edit is not mine!! I believe the @ is on it, but full credit to the incredible creator! It's so perfect!!)
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“Head back, tongue out.”
Quickly shifting onto your knees, you glance up at the man before you. Watching eagerly as Harry’s large hand strokes the hardened cock that lingers near your lips.
His other palm reaches out for your neck, slowly sliding up into your hair before tugging you back even further. “Like this,” he murmurs, only satiated when you oblige. “Good girl. Show me your tongue, Tink. Come on, not gonna ask you again.”
Quickly, you rush to obey, presenting it to him willingly as you scoot closer and silently plead for his offering.
He gives you a rare, pleased smile that makes your insides jump before he brings his cock closer to your mouth, tapping it twice. “Gonna swallow it all, yeah? Like a good little cumslut?”
Nodding fervently, your lashes flutter in a somewhat desperate attempt to coax him closer to release.
To this, he exhales an amused breath, smirk growing until you see that familiar and infuriatingly charming dimple. “You’re a lot less annoying when you’re desperate, you know that?”
You swat at his thigh. “Shut up and cum in my mouth already.”
“Eager, are we?”
“The fuck do you think? Just do it, come on.”
“See, there you go again. Don’t know how to romance a guy, do you?”
“And why would I ever want to romance you?”
He laughs and sweeps the tip of his cock along your bottom lip. “Because deep down…you like me. Don’t you, Princess?”
And before you can reply with another quippy retort, he’s sliding himself along your tongue, and filling your mouth completely.
It doesn’t take long for that warm, salty tang to go slipping down your throat. Effortlessly coating your taste buds as Harry tightens his grip on your head and releases a rather lascivious groan.
“Fuck…there you go, that’s a good girl,” he murmurs, using his other hand to brace himself against the wall to keep upright. “Take it…fucking take it, Tink, good. Feel so fucking good, don’t you? Such a tight little mouth, yeah?”
He’s babbling, a string of nonsense and praises falling from his tongue, but you revel in it. Indulge in the way you’re the only one on his mind, the only one to make him fall apart so quickly.
And you imagine you’d both like to stay here in the lobby coat closet for at least a few more minutes (or a few more rounds), but before you can entertain the idea, your phone is going off.
The shrill alarm cuts the moment in two, slicing it right down the middle as you pop off his cock and reach over to turn it off.
In turn, Harry blinks, breathing still a tad ragged as he steps back. “What…what is that for?”
“Oh, I have a meeting with Mr. Prescott in five.” You straighten up onto your feet and swipe the back of your wrist across your mouth. “This was fun, though. Thanks.”
Harry blinks. “Wow. Way to dine and dash.”
“Funny,” you snort as you head for the door. “Anyway, I think I’ll be good for a while, so…no need to keep dragging me in here.”
“I didn’t drag you,” he argues with a huff while yanking his jeans back up. “I casually suggested it and you jumped at the opportunity.”
“Mm…wrong.”
“Mm…right. Face it, Princess, you can’t stop thinking about me.”
“Actually, I think about everybody but you,” you tell him. “Seriously, just the sound of your name kills my libido. It’s quite sad.”
His eyes roll. “Fucking go already, I have shit to do.”
“Fine, but you have to wait at least three minutes,” you remind him as you slip out into the hallway. “I mean it. Cassie almost saw us last time and I was mortified. So be less suspicious this time.”
“Come on, do you really think I want people to know we’re shagging?” he retorts, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall in wait. “Getting seen with you at the bar was already bad enough.”
“Yeah? Is that why you stuck your hand down my pants in front of everybody?”
“Okay, you know what—”
“No, I don’t. Bye,” you call before swinging the door shut.
Harry’s muffled grumbling follows you all the way to the elevator.
You can’t help but grin as you step inside and hit the button for the fifth floor, flashes of his hands and practiced fingers flooding the forefront of your mind.
You might still hate him, but you suppose you don’t mind his company as much anymore. He’s not as irritating as he was when you first started this little arrangement, and you’ve noticed his technique has gotten better. He’s always been good, but recently he seems to be trying incredibly hard to make each time the best. 
Not that you’d dare complain. After all, it’s not like you’ve really—
“Wait, hold the door!”
Quickly, you reach out and press your palm against the sliding entrance, keeping it inside the frame as the stranger swiftly slides through.
You watch as he gratefully slumps against the railing, seemingly out of breath as he nods his appreciation and allows you to release your hand.
“Thank you,” he exhales, head dropping back against the wall as the elevator takes off. “Thought I was gonna have to take the stairs.”
“No problem,” you return before gesturing toward the buttons. “Which floor?”
“Fifth,” he answers, smiling when he notices it’s already been selected. “You, too?”
“Yeah, I work in the lab.”
Curious, the man straightens up. “No kidding. You’re one of the engineers?”
“Mhm. For about four years now.”
“No fucking way,” he replies, studying you with interest. “Do you like it?”
“Yeah, actually. Pay is good, hours are better.”
“Ah, very nice,” he muses. “In that case, do you think you’d be able to show me to Prescott’s office?”
“Sure. I’m headed there now, actually.”
“Yeah?” His head tilts. “Wait, shit…you wouldn’t be working on the Keaton Project, would you?” 
Surprised by his knowledge on your current work, you blink. “Uh…yes, actually. How did you…?”
“I’ve been hired to help with your development operations,” he tells you. “Just for a couple weeks, see where you’re at.”
“Oh, that’s good. Harry and I could use the help.”
The mystery man smirks. “Good. S’what I like to hear.”
With that, the elevator comes to a stop and the doors open, allowing you and the stranger to begin down the hall and toward the main office.
After a rather interesting discussion with Mr. Prescott, you learn a bit more about Lucas, your new project partner. 
He’s incredibly smart and well spoken, he’s got some wonderful ideas for the website, and he’s absolutely going to drive Harry up the goddamn wall.
You’re practically giddy as you lead Lucas back to the lab to help him get set up. Already imagining the scowl on Harry’s face when he learns he’ll be sharing a space with someone else. Someone arguably much better suited for the position and with much fresher ideas. 
Unfortunately, Harry has already left for the day by the time you return. And while you’re somewhat disappointed that you’ll have to wait on the introductions, you use the rest of the shift to get acquainted with Lucas.
Turns out, he’s delightful, and you laugh harder with him than you have anybody else in a long time. He’s rather flirty, too, you notice, but you don’t mind. It’s nice to have such forward attention and you revel in his sneaky smiles and playful remarks.
You leave the lab that afternoon with a large grin, laughing when he calls, “Goodbye, Duchess,” as you walk out the door.
Come Monday morning, Harry is in a foul mood. You notice it before he’s even set foot into the room, the exasperated expression on his face visible from the parking lot.
He walks differently when he’s upset, you realize. With his hunched shoulders, clenched fists, and heavy footsteps that echo through the halls.
Everyone within a hundred-foot radius takes notice, shooting him odd looks as he strides by, but he pays them no mind. Instead making a beeline for his corner of the room where you reside before throwing his things down with a huff.
“Morning, Sunshine,” you call, turning in your chair to watch while he slumps into his. “What the hell is going on with your hair? It looks…well, like shit.”
A venomous glare is shot through the dark frames of his glasses. “Blow me, Princess. I’m not in the fucking mood today.”
“I can see that,” you reply calmly, hiding a smirk behind the rim of your coffee mug. “Hope you’re at least a little nicer to the new guy.”
Harry’s frazzled and irritated shuffling stills. “What new guy?”
“The new guy,” you say, nodding toward Lucas who’s beginning to make his way through the lab. “Prescott told you, right? He’s working with us for the next couple of weeks on development operations.”
Harry’s attention follows the tall, lanky figure as he moves between the tables, a frown beginning to form. “What the fuck?” he scoffs quietly but full of repulsion. “I’m sorry, since when do we need a fucking babysitter?”
“He’s not a babysitter, Harold. He’s just extra help—”
“We don’t need extra help,” Harry bites back. “Okay, I had it covered—”
“Clearly, yeah. Is that why the simulation kept glitching—”
“It wasn’t glitching, the code was just off. But I had it handled—”
“Sure, yeah. Obviously. That’s why Prescott hired someone else—”
“Duchess,” comes a new addition to the conversation, forcing you and Harry to lean back as Lucas approaches. “Hey, listen. Thank you again for showing me where to set up my shit, I really appreciate it.”
“Of course,” you return with a smile. “Seriously, anything we can help you with, just let us know.”
He nods. “Perfect, yeah. Most of it is just working on the HTML, but eventually I’d like your input on the file transfer.”
Peeved, Harry’s eyes flitter across the man’s face. “Right. And you are?”
“Lucas,” he replies brightly, offering you both a charming smile. “Yeah, sorry. Met Duchess here the other day on the elevator. You must be…Harry, right?”
Harry’s eyebrows begin to weave together, broad shoulders straightening up ever-so-slightly. “Why the fuck were you in our elevator?”
“Well, Duchess was showing me up to the lab," Lucas says, nodding his chin at you while you share a smirk. "Helped me set up, which was really sweet.”
You wave the compliment away while Harry slowly turns to you and subtly mouths, “Duchess?”
You shoot him a pointed look. “Yes. Well. Anyway, Harry and I are really excited about working with you. Aren’t we?”
Harry merely returns your stare with a glare of his own before gritting his teeth. “Fucking ecstatic.”
If Lucas picks up on the charged air between you, he doesn’t comment on it, instead grinning again as he steps back. “Perfect. I’ll see you around, yeah?”
You nod. “Absolutely. Oh, we’re still on for lunch, right?”
“Of course,” he calls before returning to the hallway, leaving you with a very displeased partner. 
You blink.
“Lunch?” Harry repeats, almost incredulously. “You’re having fucking lunch with the babysitter now?”
You snort. “It’s lunch, not an orgy. Relax, Harold—”
“And what the fuck is with the degrading nickname?” he continues, nodding his chin in the direction Lucas disappeared to before nudging his glasses back up. “He sounds like a fucking twat.”
“For your information, Duchess means queen,” you tell him haughtily. “And I love it. It’s a lot nicer than anything you call me.”
“I call you the same fucking thing—”
“No, you call me Tinkerbell,” you correct. “And Princess. Which is nice. But Queen trumps Princess. Sorry.”
He makes another noise before spinning around in his seat, turning his back to you. “Fucking ridiculous. Fine, have your fucking tea parties and your fucking nicknames while I get some real shit done.”
“It’s not a tea party, it’s lunch—”
“Oh, my apologies, your Royal Fucking Highness.”
You smirk.
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“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Got it stuck right up there. Poor thing had to go to the emergency room just to get it removed.”
Lucas laughs – a loud, infectious laugh – while glancing down at his plate with a shake of his head. “Shit. I bet he enjoyed that.”
“No. No, not at all,” you chuckle. “And he wouldn’t speak to me for about a week afterward. Honestly? It was the best week of my life.”
“I imagine.” He runs a long finger around the rim of his glass in thought. “So, he’s always been like that, then? Kind of…sullen? And moody?”
Smiling to yourself, you run through your memories of the brooding man you’ve known for years. Remembering the first day you met, and the way you instantly became enamored by those bright green eyes and chestnut curls.
“No,” you admit. “No, he used to be…fun. Nice. Shy, even.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, he was…I mean, he was nervous, I think. It was one of his first jobs out of university, and I think he just wanted to do a good job.”
“Makes sense,” Lucas replies. “From what I’ve seen, he’s quite good at what he does.”
“He is,” you agree, almost begrudgingly. “Always has been, which is really annoying.”
He smiles. “So, what happened? What made him switch?”
You release a heavy sigh and shrug your shoulder. “Honestly…I don’t know. There was a bit of a dark period. He stopped talking to people, stopped going out. Got a motorcycle of all things. And then he just…wasn’t the same.”
“And he never talked about it?”
You snort. “No, Harry doesn’t…talk. About personal things. At least not with me. And asking never gets me anywhere.”
A quiet pause settles over your small table before Lucas leans closer.
“I think he trusts you, Duchess,” he says. “And I think he’s scared of how much.”
“That’s quite an observation from someone who just met him.”
“What can I say, it’s my superpower,” he teases. “But I mean it. His hostility felt…forced. Like he was putting up a wall to save face. And if he really didn’t like you…he wouldn’t spend so much of his time trying to be near you.”
It’s a nice thought. Sweet, even, and you’re almost tempted to entertain the idea.
But you know Harry. You know his cruel jokes, and his pensive demeanor. You know that he fucks to drown out the rest of the world, and that he’d rather spend the rest of his life alone than in someone else’s company.
So, you simply sigh, and offer Lucas another shrug. “Yeah, well. If that were the case, I’d hope he’d at least—”
“The fuck is all this?”
The two of you turn toward the sound of Harry’s huffed remark, smirking to yourselves when you see that familiar frown.
“Uh…lunch,” you reply calmly, raising an eyebrow. “Like I told you.”
Harry comes to a stop just beside the table, flicking his glare between you. “It takes you a fucking hour to eat?”
Your eyes narrow. “It hasn’t been an hour, and we were talking.”
“So you were wasting time?”
Lucas grins, and you catch the way he glances down at the table to hide his amusement.
You straighten up and direct your displeasure toward Harry. “We were not wasting time, we were eating and getting to know each other. Is that all right with you?”
“No,” Harry says simply, and it infuriates you. “You don’t get paid to talk shit.”
“We were not—” You suck in a sharp breath, silently commanding yourself to remain relaxed. “Do you want something?”
“Yes, actually. Prescott wants to see us.”
You blink. “Why?”
“Don’t know.”
You look to Lucas, confused and slightly annoyed while Lucas leans back curiously.
“I’ll come with you,” he offers as you both stand. “If it’s about the project, maybe I can help explain—”
“We don’t need your help,” Harry interjects bluntly. “And he didn’t ask for you. He asked for us.”
You shoot another peeved look his way. “Harry—”
“Really, it’s no problem,” Lucas tries. “I probably need to get caught up, anyway—”
“Then catch up on your own fucking time,” Harry nearly snaps, large hand outstretching to snatch onto your upper arm. “If we need you, we’ll ask for you.”
With that, he begins to drag you away from the table, leaving Lucas and his mystification behind.
Stumbling along, you begin to fight against Harry’s firm grip, already wildly annoyed. “What the fuck is your problem—”
“Your car is fixed, right?” is all he says, keeping his eyes forward as he leads you through the lobby and toward the parking lot.
You hesitate. “Uh…yeah? Why?”
“Where is it?”
Your lashes flutter as you look from him to the array of vehicles before you. “Um…there. By the tree.”
With a short nod, he yanks you forward, guiding you to your car without so much as an explanation. 
Still irritated, you slip yourself free right as he stops beside the trunk. “The hell are you doing—”
He opens the backdoor. “Get in.”
“What?”
“I said get in,” Harry repeats, “Duchess.”
You frown. “And why would I do that?” 
“Because I’m gonna fuck you.”
And you almost want to laugh because you can’t believe where he got the nerve. “You’ve got to be kidding—”
“I’m not,” he says, rather assuredly before guiding his glasses back up. “Get in.”
“Harry…this is so fucking—”
“Don’t care.” He nods his chin toward the backseat. “In, Princess.”
You reckon you should stand your ground and refuse him. Tell him how childish he’s being, how vulgar, how rude. Make it clear that he doesn’t get to stomp his foot and demand you do as you’re told just because he’s upset.
And yet…your legs urge you forward until you’re slipping inside the car and settling on the other side.
Harry follows suit, yanking the door shut to close out the rest of the world before facing you. “Take off your jeans.”
However, your expression is menacing as you begin to fumble with the zipper on your pants. “You’re so fucking pathetic, you know that?”
“Yeah,” he says simply, but he’s beginning to smile as he tugs off his own belt. “But I’m not as pathetic as whatever the fuck that was.”
“What was? A harmless, friendly lunch?”
“Please,” he snorts. “He was clearly flirting with you, and it was hard to watch.”
Your eyes roll as you tug your jeans down your legs. “He was not flirting with me, he was just being nice—”
“Guys aren’t nice,” he retorts. “Not for nothing. He wanted something from you, and I spared you from having to pretend you were interested. You’re welcome.”
“Oh, really? And what did he want? To fuck me? Like you so desperately want to do?”
He scoffs, but he’s smirking. “I fuck you to make you feel better.”
“Right, okay.” You wiggle your underwear down your thighs. “Who’s to say he wasn’t gonna do the same?”
“He wasn’t,” he replies simply. “Trust me. Get up.”
With a huff, you oblige, turning around so you can settle on your hands and knees while Harry gets situated behind you. Strong hands melding to your hips to keep you steady.
His fingers move to smooth between your cheeks and down to your cunt, stroking it softly to prepare you.
Then, he chuckles. “And who is this for, hm?” he taunts, dipping into your arousal to spread it around. Ignoring the way you inhale a sharp hiss. “Me or him?”
You brace yourself against the seat of the car, chin dropping to your chest. “Him,” you grit. “Obviously.”
Harry hums, thumbing at your clit. “Is that so?”
“Yes.”
Suddenly, there’s a sharp smack to your left ass cheek that makes you reel, the pain instantly dissolving into pleasure as you whine. 
“Try again,” he tsks before slipping a practiced finger inside. “And this time…be honest.”
“I’m always honest,” you argue, already breathless from the feel of his touch. “How could it ever be for you?”
You can’t see him, but you imagine he’s smiling, entertained by your bratty behavior as he adds a second digit. Curling and pumping at a deliciously slow pace. 
“You’re right,” he finally answers. “You hate me. You’d never get wet for me.”
You swallow another noise. “Exactly.”
“And if I fuck you…you’ll moan his name. Won’t you, Tink?” 
“Yes.”
“Think about him the whole time. Beg him for what you think he can give you.”
“Shit—”
“Imagine his tiny, soft little cock. Too small to get you off. Probably wouldn’t even feel it, would you?”
He’s cruel. Sadistic and outrageously annoying. But he knows exactly how to play you, and you damn him to hell for how well it works. 
He reaches around your body to tug your shirt up, pushing it over your tits until he can take a nice handful.
You love his hands. Love the way his skin feels against yours. The way he tweaks your nipple and rolls it around.
“Like that, don’t you?” he coos, the rhythm of his strokes through your pussy ever steady. “Know you do. Cause I know your body, Princess. Better than he ever will.”
You try to ignore the pleasure that ripples across the deep of your stomach, keeping your focus on the stitching beneath you. You hate when he’s right.
Suddenly, and without warning, he rips his fingers out, leaving you empty and dripping while you groan.
“Easy,” he tuts, now tugging his cock free. He shifts some, propping his leg up onto the seat while his other foot remains on the floor. “Gonna have to be quick, aren’t we? Since you wasted so much of our lunch break with him.”
You exhale a scoff at this, glancing back just long enough to glare.
He grins.
“Stay still,” he instructs, dragging the tip through your folds. Spreading you gently and moaning when he sees his cock glisten with you. “Just like that, s’a good girl. Gonna make it better. Gonna fuck you right.”
The first push in is heaven. It always is, and you aren’t sure why. Like adding the final piece to the puzzle. Complete, in a sense.
Your nails curl into the seat below, a futile attempt at finding some stability as his thick cock stretches you open. 
You hear him hiss through gritted teeth, his hands once again finding your waist to hold you in place. “Breathe,” he suddenly calls, smacking your leg once. “You’re not breathing.”
“Sorry,” you gasp, forcing air back into your lungs. “Don’t…don’t know why I do that.”
He makes a small, entertained noise before allowing you a moment to adjust. “Feels that good, yeah? Do I take your breath away?”
“Blow me,” you retort, but you can’t help smiling. 
Finally, he settles himself all the way, sinking into your warm cunt rather comfortably as you both release sighs of relief. 
“There it is,” you hear him murmur, his fingers curling into your side before he pulls back. “Okay, easy. Easy, Tink, yeah? Shit—”
The rapid but hard pace is addictive. Perfectly full and pleasurable with each thrust and snap of his hips against your ass. 
Despite the somewhat small space, Harry finds a way to bend your body to his will. Keeping you below him as he drives himself faster and faster. Uncoordinated and unrhythmic. He’s merely chasing the feeling, chasing the way your pussy pulls him in. Clenches around him, soaks him, keeps him warm.  
“You know what?” he suddenly seethes, surging forward until he finds a new angle. “I think you were right…think you should have gone with him.”
You want to respond – want to make any other noise besides these strained whimpers, but it’s useless. Your voice forming around his name yet again as your toes curl.
“You were better before he came along,” he says, hand coming down to slap against your ass. The sound echoing around the tiny constraints of the vehicle. “Tighter. Needier. So fucking easy.”
Your lashes flutter, eyes rolling back. He’s feeding into the part of you that likes to be degraded, and you feel a chill dance down your spine.
“Did anything I fucking wanted. Took my cock like a good girl,” he continues. “Let me stretch you. Let me train you. Break you. Have my fucking way with my fucking pussy. Behaved so well for me.”
Another spank is had to your tender skin, and you cry out as you bury yourself into the seat below.
“Now, well…now you're just useless to me. Aren’t you, Princess?” His movements get sloppier. Faster. “Now you waste your time with him.”
In any other moment, you’d refute his comments. Play his game, egg him on.
But in this moment – a moment where your singular focus is him and only him – you find that you can only shake your head quickly and with misery. “No. No, just you.”
You hear him chuckle, and it makes a new wave of arousal rush between your legs. A type of praise you thrive on. “Just me, huh? But you’re not my whore anymore, are you? You’re his—”
“No,” you whimper, writhing when he reaches down to press his fingers to your clit. “Yours…you…only you.”
“I don’t know, Tink. Seemed awful smitten with him. Same way you used to be smitten with me—”
You can do nothing but whine pitifully as you push back into his touch, ass raised and spread in front of him.
Another smack ripples across your cheek before he kneads the flesh with his free hand, circling your clit with the other. “What? What do you wanna say, baby, hm? Wanna beg me to let you cum? Is that what you want?”
You try to nod, but your cheek is pressed firmly to the seat of the car. 
“I know you’re close,” he murmurs, shifting some so he has a better position to fuck himself into you quicker. “God, you’re so fucking close. Can feel your pretty little walls clamping down on me. You’re fucking shaking, baby, come on. Come on, let go. I’ll let you cum. Go ahead.”
To accompany his instruction, he begins to rub the sensitive nerves in a harder fashion. Pressing them down as he forces your body to comply.
It happens all in the same moment. There’s no time for preparation or warning as you release a strangled gasp that disappears into his equally fervent moan.
Instantly, he releases your clit to take hold of your hips with both hands, and slam his cock into you – sheathing himself completely as he releases his load.
It’s familiar and incredible. The car is hot and filled with the sounds of your ecstasy. You’re drowning in it – drowning in him. In the way he makes you feel, in the blinding pleasure that still travels down the back of your neck all the way to your toes.
It’s deep and it’s full and it’s endless. One of the best you’ve had, and you can’t help but smile as you work to catch your breath.
You begin to slump forward as Harry chases after you. Slipping his arm beneath your stomach to keep you upright and turn you toward him as his cock slips out. 
“Hey, hey,” he mumbles, glancing over the part of your face he can see. “You all right? You breathing?”
You nod weakly. “Mhm. M’good. So good.”
You catch his soft smile. “Good.”
He reaches for your panties, gently dragging them back up until they settle around your hips. Keeping what’s left of his cum inside of you.
“Just in case Lucas gets any ideas,” he teases, shooting you a wink before helping you sit up. 
You both begin to wrangle your clothing back on, redoing belts and buttons as you work to catch your breath. 
Oddly enough, Harry doesn’t rush to exit the car, and you find yourself somewhat surprised. Instead, he merely readjusts his glasses, runs a hand through his hair, and slumps back against the seat.
And for some reason, the sight of his flushed cheeks and dilated pupils makes you grin. And you find that you can’t resist moving closer and crawling onto his lap.
Once you’re straddled across his thighs, you dip down, and take his lips with yours. Kissing him hard and with everything you haven’t been able to give him before, ignoring his look of his surprise. 
But he kisses you back, exactly the way you knew he would. Taking hold of your body once more to keep you close.
Tongues and teeth clash – it’s messy and rushed, yet effortless and easy. And you can’t help but smile giddily as you tug on his bottom lip.
When you finally pull back to breathe, Harry is wearing a similar expression, seemingly dazed and amused as he holds you on his lap.
Chuckling, you swipe your thumb across his mouth. “God, you’re so fucking annoying.”
He nips at your finger to make you squeal. “I know.”
A quiet moment settles then as you study him, feeling entranced and relaxed by the soft green behind his crooked glasses.
With a gentle smirk, you push them back up, and whisper, “Were you really jealous?”
His snobby scoff makes you laugh. “I was not fucking jealous, Tinkerbell. You just don’t know him.”
“Neither do you,” you retort. “He’s really nice. He just wants to help.”
He groans again, letting his head drop back. “For fuck’s sake, Princess. You’re so goddamn trusting—”
“Yeah, I am. After all, I trust you.”
His eyes fall to yours. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He smiles again, and you feel your heart flutter. Reminded yet again of the way things used to be – a time before the hostility and angry comments.
You think back to what Lucas said. His inquiry on the shift, and while you’re sure nothing good can come from your prying, you find yourself asking, “What happened?”
Harry blinks. “What?”
“To you. To us, I guess,” you ask, growing oddly nervous under his confused stare. “When you first started, you were so…nice. And happy. And sweet, even.”
His expression falls, settling into a chilling frown.
“And then…I don’t know, something happened,” you continue, now a bit quieter. “You changed, you got…angry, and tense, and you just…you hid yourself away, you know? And don’t get me wrong, I like bickering with you, I just…I guess I’ve always wondered what…went…wrong?”
You feel him tense beneath you. The way his hands tighten and the way that soft green turns into a raging storm of indifference and spite.
Almost within the blink of an eye, he disappears into another version of himself. One that refuses to participate in this discussion and one that desperately wants to remove himself from you.
You can feel him slipping away. Can feel the drop in your stomach – a pit a mile deep. Normally, you like to piss him off. But this is different, this is…this isn’t what you want.
He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing once. “Why does it fucking matter?”
“I don’t…I guess it doesn’t,” you stammer, shrugging once. “I just wondered, is all. I don’t mind, or anything, I just…I was thinking about it—”
“Why?”
“I…I don’t know. Lucas asked, and I thought—”
“Lucas?” It’s a venomous scoff that makes you jolt. “Let me guess. He was just trying to help—”
“No, he just…he asked what you were like, and I said that you…you—”
“I what?”
“That…fuck, I just said things used to be different,” you huff, but your cheeks feel warm. You’re embarrassed. Disappointed in yourself for pushing. For ruining the first calm moment the two of you have ever shared. “And it made me think about it, so I…I wanted to ask—”
“Well don’t,” he seethes, releasing your waist as if trying to get away from you. “It’s none of your fucking business.”
“I know,” you agree, sliding off his lap to give him a bit of space. “I know, I’m sorry, I just…I thought maybe I could help.”
He shoots you a look that splits right through you. It’s cold and it’s incredulous and it makes your throat run dry. 
“Why?” he says again, studying you closely. “Why the fuck would you want to help?”
Truthfully, you aren’t sure. “I don’t know. Maybe because there’s a part of me…a very small part…that doesn’t totally hate you? I guess?”
You wince as you say it. You hate the way it sounds. Hate what it implies because you do hate him. 
But not enough to leave him when he needs you.
Harry’s lashes flutter at your response, and he watches you for a moment more before he leans back, and his expression twists.
“Yeah, well…it doesn’t matter,” he mumbles, almost to himself as he reaches for the handle on the door. “So don’t fucking worry about it.”
Confused and somewhat dejected, you lean forward. “Har—”
“I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“…what?”
He sighs, looking down toward the floor. Refusing your eye. “I can’t do this anymore, I can’t…I don’t want to do this. With you. It’s too fucking…there’s too much extra shit. All right, it was fun, but I don’t…I’m done.”
There are a hundred things you want to say. A hundred excuses, a hundred pleas, a hundred retorts.
But none of them feel fitting as you watch him push the door open and step out. 
He hesitates, almost as though expecting you to stop him. To argue and call him back.
Yet you don’t. Because you know that nothing you say will ever be able to change his mind.
He’s already decided.
“Fine,” you whisper, offering a short nod. “Yeah, fine. Whatever you want.”
He looks at you. Finally. Expression filled with a solemn sort of goodbye before he nods as well.
And the door slams shut.
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1K notes · View notes
sutorus · 8 months
Text
OFF TO THE RACES
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DESCRIPTION: toji takes you to bet on one of his races.
PAIRING: toji x reader
WC: 1.9k
WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. f! reader, afab terms, age gap, implied free use, heavy implied dubcon, in public, fingering (f! receiving), come eating (f!), crying, pet names (babydoll, honey, s!ut), heavy objectification 
A/N: yes i grew up on ldr i love my (((strictly fictional))) old men sue me!
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“you better start praying number four catches up soon, babydoll,” he whispers into your ear, snaking a hand around your waist. 
a chill runs down your spine and your body rattles violently in response. 
he had told you to dress up today. 
how naive you were, thinking he’d just said that because it was a nice date, because the type of people that enjoy horse races don’t usually wear flip flops or show their midriffs. 
if only you had known.
you’re trying to hide it, but you’re nervous.
you can’t help it, constantly sneaking sideway glances at the two imposing men who have been staring at you this entire time. 
it would be an unbelievable situation, if it wasn’t toji. not for the first time, you wonder why you ever got involved with him. 
the lip scar should’ve been enough of a warning. the intentionally vague answer he gave about his job should’ve been enough, the decades — plural — that separated you two should’ve been enough. 
but he was a smooth talker. and he was good looking. and he made you feel safe, mostly because, well… who could be more dangerous than him? 
that feeling has never been more prevalent to you than it is right now. 
toji’s gaze follows yours, his fingertips sneaking under your skirt just barely. 
“don’t look so spooked,” he instructs, and you swallow around the lump in your throat. toji laughs low, letting his head loll sideways on top of yours. “you scared of dick or somethin’?”
you hate this. you hate this so much. you hate the way your body’s responding to it the most. 
the heat in your gut spreads all the way up to your cheeks, and you stop yourself from soothing your burning face with the back of your hands. 
he’d told you not to draw too much attention. not to make any sudden movements. you thought it was because — you thought, you thought, you thought. but you were wrong. 
you can’t decide if you can even blame yourself for that. 
you knew toji was running out of money. you knew he was involved with some shady people. 
but when in your wildest dreams could you have imagined he was planning on using you as a betting chip?
the disapproving click of his tongue pulls you from your thoughts, and your eyes lock dreadfully on horse number four. 
it’s falling behind, number six stealing third place from it. 
the heat inside you spreads further. 
“if it’s any consolation,” toji says, conversationally. “i don’t think they’ll be too mean to ya.”
it reminds you of a nature documentary you watched, once. the gazelle, trying to act nonchalant, looking for an escape route, when faced with a pride of lions. a dangerous dance. and everybody knows who’s got the upper hand, there. 
“not meaner than i am, at least,” he adds. 
your shut your eyes tightly. 
you haven’t even dared to look at them properly, at toji’s sponsors or loan sharks or whatever the hell they are. 
you want to scream at him, at how embarrassing it is that they’re younger than him and richer than him, having fun at both of your expenses. 
you realize suddenly that they’re not even here to watch the race. this place probably doesn't entertain them anymore, more of a chore than anything else.
they’re here to watch you, sweating and fidgeting on your seat with the knowledge that your body was theirs if the damn horse didn’t win. 
a one in eight change. 
god, you hoped it was toji’s lucky day. 
you catch a glimpse of a wild, tall figure to the left of you, swaying in gleeful laughter as the horse falls to fifth place.  
“let’s go home,” you grip the hand that’s resting on your leg in a last ditch effort. 
it’s useless, of course.
toji’s jaw is tensed, every muscle tight in anger. 
he doesn’t want this, either. he doesn’t like sharing you. 
but then again, he doesn’t really care about you, does he? cares more about his money, at least. 
your breathing starts to pick up, legs shaking in anticipation. in a way, you just want this to be over. 
you’re so caught up in your dread that you don’t even notice toji’s fingers crawling up your thigh until his knuckles are grazing your clothed pussy. 
your body immediately seizes up, your straightened spine glued to the back of your chair.
he gives a low, mean chuckle when he feels how wet you are. 
toji rubs you there almost soothingly, and tears threaten to spill from your eyes. 
your fists are clenched tightly on your lap, legs squeezing together in an attempt to — what? you don’t know. 
stop him? encourage him? it doesn’t feel like it matters anymore. 
toji shifts in his seat to face you, slipping the pads of his fingers into your panties. you huff, only able to watch the movement of his hand underneath your skirt. 
he rubs lazy circles on your clit, eyes on your face and showing no emotion at all.
no remorse at all. 
it feels good. it feels good and you hate that it does, that it feels good with him, that he can get you like this anytime, anywhere. 
you bite down on your bottom lip when two fingers slide down, just teasing your entrance, gliding over your pussy. 
your chest burns from the inside out with uneven breaths, and defeatedly, willingly, you spread your legs just a little bit. 
you’re not watching the race anymore and you think that’s for the better. you focus only on toji’s veiny forearms as the muscles there work over and over with every stroke of his fingers. 
someone clears their throat loudly and your legs kick out in shock. 
an initial wave of panic washes over you but then you’re glad.
surely getting caught fingering your girlfriend at a horse race would get you kicked out, right? and then the deal is over, right? and then you won’t have to—
before you can even vocalize your thoughts, toji’s rolling his eyes and, with a sigh, settling back on his seat to face the race. 
but his fingers don’t leave you. 
no, he continues pumping them lazily in and out of you, thumb pressing down on your clit and rubbing little circles. 
and that’s when you realize the sound had come from the left of you. from the men. not a horrified gasp, a dignified warning, no.
if anything, an entitled demand that toji stops blocking their view of you. 
you wish you could cry right now.
instead, you tuck your chin into your chest as toji speeds up his movements, going a little faster, a little meaner. you swallow your wails, thighs shaking.
those men, they don’t look like they kill. they probably get other people to do that for them. you haven’t gathered a lot from your stolen glances but that much you’re sure of. 
you know you’ll return home to toji. despite everything, you’ll run back to his arms, for better or for worse. 
“you likin’ this?” he’s asking, like he doesn’t know the answer. “y’like that i bet your slutty little cunt on that rank, good for nothing horse?”
you let out a sob, chest lurching. he pumps his fingers in and out of you at just the right pace, hitting just the right patches despite how hard you’re squeezing around him. 
“please…” you mewl, not sure what you’re asking for. 
his thumb is relentless on your clit, rubbing it over and over again. your hips buck on their own, wanting more, more friction, more filling, more. 
“you’ll get more soon, whore,” toji spits out like he can read your mind. there’s no point in hiding how much you’re enjoying this, being in public, being eyed hungrily like a prize, when toji knows your body so well. 
it feels almost like he’s prepping you, physically and mentally, for what’s to come, and it makes you weep harder. 
when a wave of astonished cheers break out in unison, it sounds miles away to you. all you can is the blood rushing inside your ears, toji’s huffed out breaths, the crinkle of bills being passed around from one hand to another. 
you’re slow to notice the commotion is due to horse number four miraculously catching up, coming in at number two now.
dangerously close to first place. 
it’s a rush, all at once, when toji turns your head to kiss you. 
you come undone on his fingers, right then and there, whining crazed moans into his mouth. he groans when your cunt clenches, fluttering around his fingers as the last waves of your orgasm hit you. 
if you focus hard enough, you can hear the shlick of his fingers lazily helping you ride out your high. you can’t help it but to let your head fall on his chest.
when toji pulls his fingers out of you, there are webs of slick in between them. you feel almost embarrassed, even more so when he brings them up to your mouth quickly, pushing in between your lips with ease. 
you suck efficiently to clean him up and toji hums in approval, petting your hair. 
there’s an instant where you two look in each other’s eyes and that’s all there is, your fucked out brain forgetting everything except for his touch. 
“ahh,” then a merry voice breaks you out of your trance, its owner casting a shadow over both your bodies as he stands in front of you. “i hate to ruin the moment, really, but…”
the man points his thumb over his shoulder.
the race is over.
horse number four came in at fourth place. 
how fitting. 
his partner approaches and there’s no denying it, they’re extremely attractive. individually, yes, but maybe even more so together, side by side, looking like opposites who came together due to being... likeminded.
but still. are they really going to—
“collect,” the other one says, sternly, with his hands up like he’s a good guy. “satoru. we’re just here to collect. no need to rub salt in the wound.” 
toji chuckles, but you catch the way his shoulders tense. 
“hey, a deal’s a deal. but no wounds here,” he looks at you briefly before squinting up at them. “doubt you two kids can do half the damage.”
that i can is left unsaid. you fight hard to keep the horrified look off your face. 
toji was already pimping you out to these random men, essentially. did he have to provoke them, too?
you resent the fact that the dread in the pit of your stomach isn’t big enough to push away the arousal growing next to it. 
there’s another reason why you and toji fit so well together, after all. 
the taller one — satoru — laughs, and this one’s genuine.
he reaches out tentatively, as if he were petting a stray cat, and twirls a piece of your hair around his finger. 
toji looks at him in understanding, in agreement. 
when he doesn’t react any further, satoru’s finger trails down to your lips, still glistening wet. he traces them, jutting his own out in a pout. 
“she better be worth every penny you cost us, zen’in.”
toji smirks.
you notice the other man, the one with black hair and a bun, is hard in his tailored slacks. 
you swallow down the last of your sobs.
“oh, she is," toji's hand gives your thigh a departing tap. "i might have shit taste in horses but i know how to pick my sluts."
1K notes · View notes
gh0stsp1d3r · 3 months
Text
ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷ℯ ℐ 𝒸ℴ𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒻𝒾𝓍 𝒽𝒾𝓂
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
A/n- This is my third time begging for rafe requests 😵‍💫 I’m desperate
Warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, secret relationship, p in v, fem!Reader, hickeys, your brother is jj, readers adopted so anyone can read!!! Readers also kinda a jerk but she’s just a girl, mention of daddy issues,
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︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“He’s fucking insane.” Your brother mumbled under his breath, talking to Sarah. They were talking about Rafe, the same man whose bed you had been in no more than 24 hours ago.
She nodded, still upset about the arguement. You just looked out the window, the breeze felt amazing.
John B’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel as the music blared.
For some reason, your brother had managed to drag you on one of their trips, this time to the beach for a break. Your phone vibrated on your thigh, you looked at it to see a text from Rafe.
You looked around, at Pope who sat next to you, making sure no one saw the name light up on your phone. He wasn’t paying any attention, luckily.
The two of you had managed to keep the relationship secret for months, it was safer and better that way. For the both of you.
You opened up the message. He wasn’t much of a texter so it was odd.
“hey.”
You texted him a hi back, and he automatically responded by asking you what you were doing.
“Going to the beach with my brother and the rest of them. Why?”
“Oh i was gonna ask if you wanted to come over cuz I’m alone.”
“I would have come over if i knew earlier. Sorry. I’ll see you later maybe?”
“Okay”
You left him on read when JJ called your name, making you turn your phone off and look at him.
“Yeah?” You looked at him.
“I was asking if you brought the towels.” He said, voice laced with annoyance. He said your name twice.
“Yeah. I did.” You nodded, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. You seriously needed to stop letting your younger brother telling you what to do.
Soon after, the car was parked and you all left the car, you opened the trunk and everybody carried their things to the sand, where you all set up your things.
You lifted your arms, throwing your shirt onto the towel and then your shorts, so you were only in your bikini.
You sat down on a folding chair that was there, shutting your eyes. They all laughed and had fun, while you stayed away from them.
Later, Rafe texted you with a video. A video of him jerking off with a little message underneath saying he missed you. The man was always horny.
You got up, sighing and making your way to the group. You threw your shirt and shorts over your bikini.
“I gotta go do something. So I’m gonna take the car, you can find another way home.”
“What? That’s bullshit.” Jj started, his words slurred.
“It’s my car, and I have shit to do.”
“We’ll find another ride. It’s fine.” Sarah interrupted, you looked at them, she handed you the keys and you said goodbye.
“God I fuckin’ hate her sometimes.” He mumbled when you left, downing his drink.
“She’s your sister, she’s probably just going through a rough time.” Kiara defended.
“Yeah. You’re right.” He mumbled, remembering the argument that you had with your father before you left.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“omw” you texted Rafe as soon as you got into the car, practically speeding to his house. You got out the car, and you texted him you were there.
He came to the door and opened it, you were met with the sight of a towel wrapped around his waist, hair wet. He had just taken a shower.
You walked in, and the second you did, his lips were on yours.
“Missed you.” He mumbled when you left his lips for air, you nodded and kissed him again, your hands running through his hair.
His hands traveled to your ass and he pat it gently, a silent sign to jump. You did so, your legs wrapped around his waist as you were against the wall.
Your lips never left his until he softly put you down onto his bed.
“Missed you too.” You giggled out as he unwrapped the towel from his waist, seeing his cock already hard, the tip red and angry, some pre cum already leaking out. Your shorts were gone and you were left in the bikini now.
“I saw you in the post Sarah made- in this fuckin’ bikini.” He mumbled, he was on top of you now, his lips ghosting yours.
“Is that what the video was about?” You said quietly, a small smile on your face.
He nodded, and crashed his lips into yours again, your lips were swollen from all the kissing at this point, but you loved it. You loved every second.
You moaned into the kiss when he slid his tongue into your mouth, a free hand went to take off the bottom, and the top you had on.
“God, fuckin’ hate your brother and his friends, they’re keeping me away from you.” He mumbled, his lips leaving yours again to suck on your neck, leaving hickeys.
“Rafe! Everyone’s gonna see!”
“Shh. It’s okay. Jus’ cover them up with your makeup or some shit.” He grumbled over, continuing to suck on the skin, making you cry out.
Once his assault on your neck was over, he kissed your lips one more time, a quick peck. Then he was collecting your arousal on his fingers, a small smirk on his face as he looked you in the eyes.
He brought his soaked fingers to his face, and put them in his mouth, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he savored the taste.
You moaned out, fuck that was hot. His eyes went back to you and he held your thighs apart, jerking his cock a few times before lining it up with your entrance.
Luckily your wetness was enough for him to slide in with ease, you both moaned out now, his hands gripped your thighs.
“Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” He mumbled, he struggled to not come right then and there when your walls pulsed and you gripped onto his cock like a vice.
He began to move, and if there’s one thing you learned about Rafe Cameron, it was that he did not like going slow.
His thrusts were quick, having the bed squeaking underneath you everytime. You cried out his name, you clawed down his back as his body was against yours.
“Oh- oh my god-“ you said, voice loud.
“Not God, only me baby.” He chuckled, but his words didn’t even register in your head. He had fucked you dumb, completely.
Your eyes were glossy, you felt full, your eyes screwed shut as you moaned out.
The coil in your stomach felt like it was about to burst, and you shouted out his name, so loud that the neighbors could probably hear. He wanted everyone to hear, though.
“R-Rafe!”
“Cum for me, Angel.” He mumbled, he already knew with the way your walls gripped onto his cock and the way your toes curled.
You came with a loud cry, your eyes opened to see him over you, panting and groaning. You tried to close your legs, it became too much.
“T’ much, Rafe.” You moaned, but he was focused on his own orgasm. He groaned and mumbled your name was he came inside you, his cum shooting into your womb.
He sighed and panted above you, you breathed heavily.
“You’re on the pill, right?”
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