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kingkatsuki · 8 months

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— lush

It’s no secret to Bakugou that his friends think you’re hot, but he’s never allowed them to act on it before. Until they catch him using a remote controlled vibrator on you—

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader, implied Sero Hanta x f!reader, Kaminari Denki x f!reader, Kirishima Eijirou x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, toys, Bakugou let’s the guys control your lush vibe, dub-con (consent isn’t explicitly stated so could potentially be seen as non-con), long distance, sexting, public setting, nudes, squirting, dirty talk, the guys talk pure filth about you.

Word Count: 3.6k.

Bakugou did not want to be here, and frankly he wouldn’t have turned up at all if it hadn’t been for you. Especially when he knew what was waiting at home for him— you kissed him at the door with a promise to wait up for him when he returned home. Knowing that you’d more than likely fall asleep on the couch by the time he stepped back into the apartment, having to scoop you up into his arms and walk you into your bedroom.

This night out for Sero’s birthday had been planned weeks in advance, and rather than unwinding with him after your long day at work you practically forced him into the shower— alone no less, and made him get ready for drinks at a popular bar in central Musutafu.

Taking a sip of his cold beer as his friends talked animatedly around him in the plush booth, catching up with each other after a few weeks apart. Gathering as Pro-Heroes wasn’t as easy as his days back at U.A. Conflicting work schedules meant that it became near impossible to find the same days, or even evenings off as each other. So this was something to be savoured. Or at least, that’s what you told him as you watched him get ready. Sitting on your shared bed wearing one of his old Dynamight agency shirts and a pair of shorts while he pulled a plain black shirt out of his closet to wear tonight.

Nothing had annoyed Bakugou more than leaving you alone in your apartment to be here, the taste of your gloss still lingering on his lips as he thought about being home with you instead.

You’d made it abundantly clear what your plans were going to be tonight, pulling the little pink toy he’d bought for you out of your magic drawer (as he called it) and settling yourself on your shared bed.

“You put that in I ain’t goin’ at all, sweetheart.” He groaned, leaning against the doorframe as you shook your head with a laugh.

“You’re going,” You reached up to squeeze his cheeks together into a pout, the rough stubble on his face tickling your fingers as you pulled him down into a kiss, “I just need something after the day I’ve had. I’m probably gonna take a bath and wait for you to get home.”

“Then I’m at least controlling that shit.” He growled, pulling his cellphone out of his jeans pocket, “Give me access now.”

Maybe he’d be able to have one more drink before excusing himself early so he could get home to you and sink himself into your warm, wet cunt.

And god, you would be so fucking wet. You’d be soaked from the way his thumb continued to absentmindedly draw patterns against his phone screen. The pink cursor ascended for a few moments before dragging it back down. Picturing how you looked right now with the little toy stuffed inside your pretty pussy as you writhed on top of tussled sheets all because of him.

You[8.59PM]: Kats, stop teasing and let me cum :(((

The notification banner signaled at the top of the screen, causing Bakugou to grin. He’d been teasing you for the last hour with the toy, knowing that the settings he was using weren’t quite enough to have you coming undone for him. But just enough to have you riled up and begging for more—

Bakugou[9.00PM]: You’re the one that wanted to play these games, sweetheart.

You[9.01PM]: Yeah, but I wanna cum :((

The words had Bakugou’s cock throbbing in his pants, pressing against the rough denim as he tried to mask a groan through a tickly cough. Pressing the back of his hand to his lips as he typed another response to you.

Bakugou[9.02PM]: I promise I’ll take good care of you when I get home, baby.

You[9.05PM]: Turn it up a little please, baby? I need it.

With that text you’d sent an attachment. He’d been hiding the screen of his phone beneath the table all evening to avoid any prying eyes or accusatory questions, but this made him shield the screen from any unsuspecting gazes. A photograph of you staring up into the camera with needy eyes, your glossy lips curled into a cute pout as you pulled your shirt— his shirt, above your chest as the fabric bunched together to reveal your perfect breasts.

God, you were so fucking perfect.

Bakugou decided to take pity on you, his fingers pulling the circle up the screen to increase the vibrations. His free hand reaching forward to grab his bottle as he downed the rest of its contents. Determined this would be his last drink before excusing himself to come home to you, not that he’d have to think of any particular reason.

“Work still trying to contact you, bro? It’s gone nine.” Sero asked, leaning his forearms against the table.

“You have been on the phone a lot, is everything okay?” Kirishima looked concerned.

“He’s probably texting his girlfriend,” Denki practically sang.

“Shut up, idiot. Everything’s fine.”

Slipping his phone back into his pocket as he stood from the booth, smoothing his hands down the black denim on his thighs as he made a beeline towards the bar.

“It’s your round yeah, Kats?” Kirishima called after him, the sound drowned out by the loud bustle of the bar as Bakugou leaned against it waiting to be served. He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, knowing that it was texts from you. But he didn’t want to unlock it to read them now, not when anyone could look over his shoulder and catch a glimpse at what was his.

Forgoing a tray as he held the neck of the beer bottles between his knuckles as he carried them back towards the booth to a cheer and raised arms from Denki. Sharing them out as he resumed his seat and wrapped a palm around the cold base of the bottle, distracted as he pulled his phone out to finally respond to you.

You[9.21PM]: I can’t cum with this, baby. It’s driving me crazy.

You[9.23PM]: You are the biggest tease I swear, Kats. My clit is throbbing :(((

Bakugou grinned as instead of responding to your messages, he left them on read. Opening the lush app as he went back to dragging his thumb across the screen, increasing the vibrations to give you some much needed relief. Except this time Sero was quick to notice the app on Bakugou’s phone screen, quick reflexes snatching the phone from his hands.

“Is this what I think it is?” Sero’s eyes sparkled with mischief as his mouth settled into a wide grin, “No wonder you’re talking to us even less than usual tonight, Bakubro.”

“Give it back, tapeface.” Bakugou practically snarled, reaching across the table to try and grab his phone back. Knocking his beer bottle over in the process, which Kirishima’s quick reflexes managed to save with minimal spillage, the head foaming up from the movement.

“What is that?” Denki asked with curiosity as he leaned over Sero’s shoulder to look at the screen.

“You guys ever seen this app before?” Sero turned it to face the table, the circle still sat in the middle of the screen. An indication of the consistent hum of vibrations pulsing through the toy for you right now.

“No, what does it do?” Kirishima tilted his head slightly, “Is it like a game?”

“It’s an app for a remote controlled vibrator,” Sero explained, “So unless it’s inside you right now, man—”

“Piss off.” Bakugou snarled, baring his teeth.

“Then I’m guessing it’s inside your girlfriend.” Sero surmised, turning the screen back to face him.

“Oh,” Kirishima’s lips parted in surprise, and Bakugou could see the cogs turning in his mind as his thoughts clearly went to what you looked like with this little toy stuffed inside your pussy.

“Wait” Denki’s brows were furrowed as though deep in thoyght, the cogs turning in his mind, “So that means she’s got it in right now?”

“Looks like it.” Sero held the phone in one hand as he used his pointer finger to drag the circle down to the bottom of the screen, stopping the vibrations completely, “How many times has she cum already?”

None of your fucking business, Bakugou thought to himself as he sneered across the table. But he hoped you hadn’t cum at all, wanting to return home and experience the luxury of you coming undone on his cock firsthand.

“Oh fuck, man.” Denki whined, “Your girlfriends so fucking hot. How did you get so lucky?”

“Maybe you should give that back, Sero.” Kirishima shuffled beside Bakugou, clearly intrigued with the conversation but he tried to ignore the dark, depraved thoughts that were running through his mind at this moment.

“Yeah, give it the fuck back.” Bakugou snarled, swiping for the phone again as Sero held it over his head and away from Bakugou’s reach.

You[9.30PM]: Baby, why’d you turn it off completely that’s so mean?

“Oh shit,” Sero read the text that came through from you, “Happy birthday to me.”

“Give me the fuckin’ phone,” Bakugou practically snarled, venom laced in his tone as he hoped you wouldn’t try and send another selfie.

“Come on, man. Five minutes,” Sero pleaded, offering the phone back to Bakugou as a peace offering, “It could be my birthday gift, you know?”

Having his friends fawn over you like this had a warped sense of power rolling over him. It was debauched, depraved and downright scummy but Bakugou found himself falling into the sovereignty.

Bakugou knew he should call you to let you know that he was surrendering control to the app to his friends, or at the very least send you a message to let you know. But deep down he knew it was something that you would probably enjoy, maybe a bit too much, if you knew. Often talking to him about uses for the toy, and whether he’d ever share access with it with his friends. The thought of going home to tell you who had been controlling it just to see the wide-eyed look on your face had his cock throbbing beneath his jeans in anticipation.

“Five fuckin’ minutes.”

“That’s the spirit, happy fucking birthday to me.” Sero grinned as he began to slide his finger against the screen, “You shoulda brought her with you, that woulda been the best gift.”

“You’d never be that fuckin’ lucky, tapeface.” Bakugou snorted, taking a sip of beer as Sero’s tongue poked out from between his lips in concentration. Swirling his finger along the screen with such precision, but Bakugou was certain he had no real clue what he was doing.

“A girl online gave me her code to one of these before,” He grinned across the booth, “Let me watch her on video while I did it too—”

“Don’t even think about it.” Bakugou would rather blow his phone up completely than let his friends see you on video.

“How do you even know she’s got it in right now?” Denki asked, “You could just be messing with a dead toy.”

“She sent a text begging me to turn it back on.” Sero grinned, “He’s probably the one that put it in her, lucky prick.”

Bakugou wished he was the one that positioned the toy inside you, although he definitely wouldn’t have made it to the bar if he had. There’s nothing in this world that could’ve torn him away from your pretty little cunt.

“Can you get her to send us a picture?” Denki continued, “Do you have pictures?”

Bakugou had multiple pictures, and videos, of you using the toy. It had originally been a way for him to help you climax whenever he was called away on long missions, a fun addition to the already steamy video calls you’d have at random hours. The time differences were often large as he’d find himself fisting his cock for you on camera at four in the morning, helping you to cum just before you were getting ready for bed.

“Shut up, asshole.” Bakugou growled.

There was no way he was going to show them a picture of you, especially how hot you looked right now. Remembering the photograph you’d sent him just as he made it to the bar, of you spread out against soft sheets as you gave the camera a sultry gaze. Man, he really was a fucking idiot coming out tonight and leaving you at home.

“Oh, he’s definitely got pictures,” Sero smirked, “Look at the look on his face. I bet she looks hot in them too—”

“Don’t you dare, you fuck.” Bakugou made a swipe for the phone, but Sero was quicker. Handing the cellphone off to Denki as he leaned forward to pick up his bottle of beer with a chuckle, taking a large swig from it as he leaned against Denki’s shoulder to watch his friend play with the app.

“Have you used this when she’s out in public?” Denki asked, looking across the booth at Bakugou while his finger criss-crossed over the screen with speed— probably torturing your poor pussy with the intense changes.

“No.” Bakugou answered curtly. Neither of you had really toyed with the device outside long distance, but it’s definitely something that you’d both talked about before. You’d even suggested he wear it one night, so he could feel exactly what it did to you for himself.

“Man, that’s so boring.” Denki pouted, “If she was my girlfriend I’d have her wearing it to the grocery store.”

“That’s because you don’t know how to make a girl cum by yourself.” Bakugou scoffed, taking another sip of his drink as Denki scrunched his nose in response.

“Yeah I do,” Denki turned the screen to face him, giving anyone in the bar who looked over a glimpse at the adult app on the phone in use right now, “In fact I’m gonna make your girl cum without even touching her.”

Bakugou hoped you weren’t coming right now, especially with how intense Denki had the vibrations. He knew you were already riled up and desperate, and this was exactly what you needed to have you tumbling over the edge. But he’d never live it down if Denki was the one to make you climax, he’d never hear the end of it.

“You should invite her next time, man. We could do this with her here.” Denki continued, his finger pausing on the screen while the dot was sat at its highest point. Indicating that the vibrations were on the most intense setting as Bakugou pictured you writhing against the sheets while the toy buzzed inside you. Picturing the creamy slick that drooled out of your hole at the sensation and stuck to your plush thighs. Wishing that he was there to clean you up instead of fantasizing about it. His cock jumped at the thought as he palmed himself subtly through his jeans while shifting in his seat.

God, he had to go home and bury himself inside you.

“Can I have a go?” Kirishima mumbled shyly, his cheeks glowing as red as his hair as he fisted his beer bottle nervously.

“Knock yourself out, man.” Denki held the cellphone out to Kirishima like it belonged to him, the dot still sat at the highest point on the screen.

What Bakugou hadn’t been expecting is the amount of teasing Kirishima was doing for you. His thumb barely moving the circle above the slowest setting, the low rumble of the toy inside you would’ve been barely enough for anyone and Bakugou knew it had to be driving you crazy right now.

You[9.40PM]: I told you to stop being a tease. I was about to cum. :(((

“Oh, she’s texting you.”

Kirishima showed him the screen as he read the text, and Bakugou had never been so happy that Kirishima had managed to seize control of his phone and the app before Denki had a chance to actually make you climax.

Breathing a sigh of relief as he grinned in satisfaction, certain he’d never hear the end of it (from you or Denki) if he’d managed to make you cum.

Kirishima was gentle and cautious as he continued playing with the app, barely letting the vibrations go above the middle of the screen. But thick fingers continued to make it constant, pushing down to wiggle the line every few seconds as he began to make almost swirling patterns against the device.

“Come on, man. Turn it up to the max.” Denki whined, his arms going across the table in a silent plea to get the phone back into his hands.

“So you can make her completely numb?” Sero scoffed, “You know she’d stop being able to feel anything with you.”

“She’d be able to feel a lot.” Denki grabbed at his crotch crudely as the men sat at the table began to laugh, even Bakugou snorted as he took a large swig of his beer. He had to get home to you soon.

“You ain’t ever made a girl cum in their life so what makes you think you could make my girl cum?” Bakugou deadpanned as Denki pouted.

“I have too!” He whined.

“Oh yeah? When was that?” Sero pried.

“Come on, man. Don’t be on his side—”

“The girls on those camsites don’t count, I’m pretty certain they fake it too.”

“I don’t even use those anymore.”

“Oh wow.” Kirishima breathed deeply when Bakugou turned his attention back to his best friend. Noticing he’d opened the texting app and now a photograph you’d just sent sat open on the screen.

“What the fuck, man?” Bakugou grunted, grabbing his phone off Kirishima has he shielded the screen with his body. Curling over the table as he held the device beneath it.

“I’m sorry, it’s not my fault. I saw the notification and I clicked it—” Panic was evident in Kirishima’s tone as he begun a feeble attempt to explain himself. An attempt that would’ve been easier were it not for the alcohol currently circling through his veins, his voice slurred as his eyes glazed over. Trying to commit the picture he’d just seen of you to memory, as though he’d just had a near death experience and had witnessed the pearly gates.

“Let me see,” Denki practically begged, “God, dude. Please— let me see. Eiji got to see, it’s not fair!”

“Shut up,” Bakugou cut both men off, trying to focus on the picture you’d just sent.

It was a photograph taken from above your body, between the gap of your thighs and your chubby mound as he noticed the dark stain that now splashed across your bedsheets. Bakugou sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth when he noticed the text message that you’d sent with it.

You[9.45PM]: You just made me squirt omg

You[9.46PM]: You’re cleaning that up when you get home it’s not my fault :(((

“Fuck, she squirted.” Bakugou mumbled, eyes roaming your exposed skin and the mess you’d made on the screen.

That’s it, he was going home to you now.

“What?!” Denki gasped in surprise, practically jumping over the table in the booth to read the messages, “You made her squirt?”

“Clearly it was me that got her close enough to do it,” Sero grinned, “Eij just got lucky to get her last.”

“And she sent a picture? Can I see it, man? Please.” Denki looked as though he was about to cry, his knuckles turning white from gripping the edge of the table, “Please just one pic.”

Bakugou chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, debating on whether to show the personal picture you’d sent. A picture that had clearly been intended for his eyes only— but he’d explain to you later.

Turning the screen to the rest of the table, ensuring it faced away from the busy bar as his friends leaned in to look at it. Eyes darting across the imagine to try and memorise it in the few seconds that Bakugou had given them.

“Holy fucking shit.” Sero grinned.

“That’s not fair that you get to go home to that,” Denki threw his head against the back of the booth with a groan, “I’d lick it off the floor.”

“You’re such a fuckin’ freak.” Bakugou sneered, scrunching his nose at the debauched comment.

Locking his phone before leaning forward to pick his beer bottle up to down the rest of its contents, slamming the empty bottle back down on the table as he grabbed his jacket.

“Well, you’ve seen what I’ve got waiting for me at home, I’m out.” Bakugou fist bumped Sero as before shrugging his jacket back on.

“Any chance at a video call?” Denki pleaded, clasping his hands together as Bakugou shot him a glare, “What? I’m just asking.”

Bakugou text you as he left the bar, moving quick on his feet to get home to you as quickly as possible as he hailed a taxi.

Bakugou[9.52PM]: I’m not cleaning that up when I get home, I’m making it worse.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou smut #katsuki bakugo smut #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #mha x reader #mha smut #tw:dubcon #trigger:dubcon

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bluejutdae · 2 months

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best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Chan x you

genre: romance, friends to lovers

warnings: asshole guy who thinks sex is required in exchange of a dinner

“I’m sorry but I really have to go, it’s a family emergency. But I’ll call you.” This guy is really pissing you off, but he’s tall and pretty muscular and the vibes you got from him during the (luckily short) date make you uncomfortable.

“Are you really using this lazy excuse? I invited you to dinner, I’m gonna pay, so the least you could do is to put it out there!” You blink in disbelief, he really is a creepy guy. Chan is on his way though, so the thought comforts you a little. You reach into your bag and grab a few bills and, as you place them on the table, you give the guy a sarcastic smile. “I can pay for my own dinner.”

Grabbing your jacket you turn your back to him, ready to leave, but the asshole grabs you by your arm and yanks you towards him. You don’t have the time to do anything because a hand is suddenly around the guy’s wrist like a vice.

“Let her go immediately or I’m going to break your arm.” You’ve never heard Chan talking with such ice in his voice and a shiver runs along your spine.

“Fuck you both. I should have known you were a frigid bitch!” the guy lets you go and raises his free hand in surrender. Before letting him go, Chan looks at you for the first time since his arrival. “Are you okay?” You nod, confused. You thought your crush for Chan was long gone, but if the butterflies in your stomach are any indication, your crush is alive and burning.

Not even 5 minutes later, in a cab with Chan sitting next to you, you catch the end of your best friend’s sentence: “…can’t believe that asshole!”

“You know what’s funny? He called me a ‘frigid bitch’. Isn’t that a bizarre insult? What does it even mean?” Now that you’re with Chan, you’re calm and not scared anymore.

You hear him laughing, shaking his head. “Like anything that came out of his mouth made any sense… but really, are you okay?” You nod again. You’re not scared, you’re not uncomfortable, but something in your chest trembles at the idea of parting with Chan. “Can you stay over tonight?”, you ask quietly.

When you close the door, the atmosphere is uncommonly quiet and tense. Did you make Chan uncomfortable? Did he have other plans? Is he annoyed with you for always needing him? As all those thoughts run across your head, he slips out of his shoes and goes straight to the kitchen, feeling at home in your small apartment. “Can I steal some ramen? I didn’t have the time to eat a proper dinner.” In lieu of an affirmative answer, you wash your hands and start preparing a quick dinner for Chan. “I’m sorry I hijacked your night, Channie.”

“What are you talking about? My plans involved ramen at the dorms and hearing Hyunjin and Jisung screaming against the tv. They started a new drama”, he explains watching you moving around the kitchen. He loves to look at you while you’re busy, while you’re too occupied with something else to notice him studying you, watching you with love in his eyes. Tonight was once again proof you only saw him as a friend and nothing more: otherwise you wouldn’t have gone on a date, right?

Wrong.

You spent ages crushing over him, but once you were sure he felt nothing for you, you tried (in vain, apparently) to get over him.

You place a steaming bowl of food in front of him and sit at the table, looking at him.

“No more lame dates. No, you know what? No more dates.”

“You let a couple of bad guys ruin your search for true love?”

Well, he’s not gonna complain, but he also doesn’t want a bad experience to scar your hopes for romance. “Nah, they’re not worth it. My perfect match is not interested in me anyway.”

Fuck, you shouldn’t have said something like that, now he’s gonna ask questions.

“Perfect march, uh?”

You wave your hand, almost slapping away the topic. “Eat your food, Chan.”

“I thought you told me everything,” he pouts and you’re a weak weak person, how can you be tough in front of his pout?

“There is someone I like, I liked him for a while but it’s unreciprocated, so there’s no point in talking about him.”

“Then he’s dumb. Tell me his name?”

“You kinda know him, so I’d rather not… you know, don’t wanna make it weird.” Chan looks at you with a weird something in his eyes you can’t really understand, but for the sake of your secret you let it slide.

“Movie?”

The movie has been on for at least an hour but neither of you is really watching it. You’re cuddled on the couch, Chan’s head on your lap and your fingers slowly playing with his hair. It’s one of his favorite cuddling positions, and you love it cause you have the chance to watch him without being noticed.

“I wish you’d tell me who he is.”

You freeze in surprise, fingers stilling on his head.

“Chan…”

“No wait, listen for a second.” He sits now, and bites his lip. “We’ve always told pretty much everything, but there are things I haven’t told you either. So I will tell you something secret about me if you tell me who he is.”

“Why do you wanna know?”

“Because!”

He’s quick to get on his feet, walking on the small carpet in front of the tv. “Because I wanna know who’s this dumb guy who is not in love with you. What’s not to love? He’s lucky enough you are interested in him, something I’d give an arm for, and he’s not on his knees worshiping you?” He then freezes, like something hit him and trains his eyes on the floor. “Forget what I said”.

What did he say? Are you drunk and incapable of understanding or Chan just said he’d give an arm to have you interested in him? Something swells into your chest and you decide to be bold for once.

“Do you like me, Chan?”

He stills his pacing, gaze still trained to the floor, and nods carefully.

“It’s you.”

“Mh?”

“The guy I like, it’s you.”

He’s gonna have a sore neck tomorrow, considering the speed in which he raises his head.

“Me?” You nod, with a hopeful smile on your lips.

“I was convinced you felt nothing for me…”

You don’t know which one of you moved first, and it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that you’re kissing, now. You have his wet, soft and pillowy lips on yours, his tongue asking to be let in your mouth, your hands holding the other tight, almost to make sure this is real and you’re not going to vanish any seconds now.

“We’re such a clichè” he says on your lips, laughing cutely.

“Maybe. But I like it anyway.”

If being a clichè is what brought you two finally together, then so be it.

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #bluejutdae #skz #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #skz Smau #skz fake texts #stray kids smau #stray kids fake texts #chan scenarios #chan fanfic #Thiana writes Chan

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chikaras-garden · 4 months

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I feel like Bruce is the type of guy to give you a toy to have in you at dinner (he gave you a nice outfit too dw) and he’d turn it on at random moments

Don’t mind me, just gonna vibe over here with my silly little ideas

Oh look it’s one of my favorite tropes (kinks? whatever)

Seated next to Bruce at the annual gala for one of the many, many charities the two of you are involved in, you’re sweating bullets. He’s scheduled to be giving a speech after the next course, and you’re painfully nervous.

Someone says your name beside you, and when you take a fluttering breath instead of responding, they call your name again. “Are you alright? You look flushed.”

Suddenly, the vibration between your thighs dies down, and so too does the heat that comes with it. You flash your best smile and, since you can’t make yourself look normal given the circumstances, decide to lean in.

“Maybe a little under the weather,” you lie, knowing that Bruce—sitting on your other side with his hand in his lap, phone unlocked and fingers moving as if he’s texting because he’s so important and so busy, no one would ever suspect—

The vibration kicks up again, just a little reminder of the bullet wedged between your folds and the man who put it there. You reach for your napkin just in time to cover your mouth, pretending to clear your throat when you really want to moan.

Bruce’s fingers, cold as ice, touch your neck and very nearly make you jump. “She does feel warm,” he agrees, feigning concern because he knows you can’t pout and glare at him when you’re in public. “Do you want to head home?”

His words in the car on the way over echo in your head: you don’t want all our friends to think you’re a slut, do you?

You reach out and touch his hand, the one over his phone—and blissfully, the vibration slows. A mercy. “I’m okay,” you promise, smiling sweetly because you’re not losing this little game. “I want to stay for your speech, at least.”

Bruce raises a brow, catching on in an instant. His blue eyes sparkle with electric heat, and you swear he almost leans in to claim your mouth right there.

“If you’re sure,” he concedes, then presses a kiss to your forehead. Outwardly, he looks like the perfect partner, but only you can hear him whisper, “Can’t have my phone out when I’m on stage, baby. What if I leave it on, and make sure I talk nice and slow?”

#bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne smut #batman smut #🌸— mine.#🌸— bruce wayne.#💌— letters for the gardener.#💋— anon.

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skyewritesstuff · 5 months

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greedy | p. mellark

my masterlist.

summary: after months of being in what you think is a situationship with peeta, you finally confront him about whether or not there's anything truly there or if you're just another girl who has fallen for his kindness and misinterpreted the signs.

pairing: peeta mellark x reader (college!au, fratboy!peeta if you squint)

fandom: the hunger games

warnings: nothing too serious. implied nsfw at the end. afab reader. sorta ooc peeta...it's mostly environmental because we all know peeta's a flirt.

notes: based on greedy by tate mcrae even though the verse at the end gives me everlark vibes. also, this has been beta read. :)

word count: 2.8k

He’s here. Are you coming?

You looked at the blue and gray text thread, Clove’s name, and contact picture with a little clover emoji sitting right on top of it. A sigh escaped you as you looked up from your phone at the fraternity house that was positioned in front of you. You’d been leaning against the fencing that surrounded the yard for what felt like an hour, but in reality, it’d only been a few minutes.

As of late, facing Peeta Mellark has always been an unpredictable situation. While he was kind, polite, and charismatic, that charisma oftentimes led to him getting entangled metaphorically (at least you hoped) with other girls. You couldn’t tell if he didn’t know how to say no, was weighing out his options, or if he was what Clove often referred to as a “fuckboy”.

Fuck it. You rolled your eyes, stuffed your phone into your jacket pocket, and made your way across the cement walkway leading to the house. Having second thoughts, you pulled your phone back out, pulling up the same conversation with Clove.

Is she here?

The person you were speaking of was none other than Katniss Everdeen. She was the most recent girl that Peeta had been hanging around with and was simultaneously the cause of your latest installment of confusion. According to some of your other friends, she’d been friends with Peeta for a while and the study date you ran up on in the library was nothing but a platonic catch-up amongst busy friends.

However, one Madge Undersee had more than the opposite to say. All it took was one group mirror shot in the bathroom at a nightclub posted on Instagram, featuring you and Peeta in the outskirts of the photo, his arm wrapped securely around your waist, for her to send you a heated DM saying that he and Katniss had been a thing for forever and that you were coming between them.

You very quickly sent back, “Funny how the alleged ‘other girl’ always gets shit while the dude gets to slide by.” with a sarcastically placed upside-down smiley that was left on read still to this day.

A typing bubble appeared in Clove’s thread.

I don’t think so!

You let out another sigh, relieved that for now, Katniss wasn’t a worry. You walked into the house, looking around. There was a cloud of smoke in the air, presumably from various substances and/or a smoke machine, and bright lights coming from various directions. You squinted, trying to make out anyone you knew, but specifically trying to find Clove.

“Hey!” The greeting was slurred, long, and drawn out as an arm was all but dropped onto your shoulders. Finnick Odair was standing beside you, laughing at what appeared to be nothing. Finnick was a grad student that you’d met while waiting in line for coffee, quickly discovering that you two had mutual connections.

“Y/N…Y/N…you look…beautiful, stunning, ravishing…Have you seen Annie?”

You chuckled at how rapidly his thought process changed. “Nope, I just got here! Maybe try calling her?”

“Ha,” he let out, “I don’t…I don’t know her number…”

“But she should be in your… never mind, you’ll find her I’m sure.” you grinned, shaking your head.

“Alright, sweet!” Finnick started to walk away, but then quickly turned on his heel back to you, pointing in your direction.

“Almost forgot…Peeta’s looking for you!”

“What?”

The question was ignored as he walked away, approaching another male at the party the same way he’d approached you. Peeta was looking for you? Was he serious or just on another planet from the amount of alcohol in his system?

You kept maneuvering through the crowd, trying to locate the kitchen, knowing that’s where most of the snacks and drinks were. The kitchen also usually served as a good place to wait around if you were looking for someone.

You pulled out your phone, shooting a text to Clove to meet you in the kitchen. You stared down at the screen, hoping for a speech bubble to pop up saying she was either on her way or giving you simple directions to wherever she was located. You then felt yourself collide with someone in a way that wasn’t painful, but most definitely was going to lead to an awkward exchange.

“Oh shit…I’m so sorry…”

You were met with blonde hair and a black hoodie and then a beautiful set of oh-too-familiar blue eyes.

“Don’t be!” Peeta smiled, “I was looking for you! I sent out Finnick to look for you and everything.”

You rolled your eyes with a smirk, “Well, you might want to find someone sober enough to complete the mission next time, just saying.”

“You are probably absolutely correct…but it’s fine. Why send someone else when it’s something you can do on your own way better, right?” he smiled, leaning on the wall, taking a sip from his cup, “Do you want something to drink?”

“What is that?” you gestured to the cup, raising a curious yet somewhat fearful eyebrow.

Peeta shrugged, “I think it’s some kind of jungle juice. The base has to be Hawaiian Punch because of the color if that helps.” He extended the cup towards you, “Want to see for yourself?”

You nodded and took the cup, taking a sip. It was definitely Hawaiian Punch, and it wasn’t as strong as you thought it would be, which could either be a help or a hindrance.

“Pretty good, right?” he asked. You nodded in response, handing the cup back to him. “Do you want me to get you some of that…or I can try to mix you something myself?”

“Whatever that is, that’s fine.” you answered, following him over to a large orange Gatorade dispenser that had the word “NOT” written on a piece of tape, stuck above the label. You chuckled under your breath as you watched the blonde grab a cup, scoop out some ice, and then fill the drink. As he did this, you took the time to take in his appearance as your brain had been busy keeping up with the conversation instead of taking a good look at him.

He was in a black hoodie with a small logo on the chest; his blonde hair falling into his face a little. He also was wearing gray joggers with his university lanyard sticking out of the pocket, falling onto his leg with a pair of somewhat beaten-up sneakers. Despite his relaxed appearance, he looked put together. He looked good.

Peeta turned back to you, handing you the cup, which you took with a smile. “Do you wanna go somewhere quieter?” he asked, gesturing to the surroundings before refilling his cup.

Your stomach turned with nerves. He probably just meant to talk, but what if he didn't? You knew for a fact that your bra and underwear were not fancy, nor did they match, and you probably had the lowest body count in your friend group. You took a hard swallow.

“...To talk…” Peeta laughed, his tone sounding a little nervous as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and took a sip from his cup. The lights well-hid the red flush on his face.

“Oh…okay, yeah!” you laughed back, watching as he extended his hand. You took his hand, noticing how he immediately laced your fingers together as he walked you through the main hallway that you’d just walked through and up the stairs.

Someone at a distance must’ve seen you both making your way upstairs, because someone wolf-whistled and then called Peeta’s name, causing him to sharply turn over his shoulder to try and identify the person. He quickly stuck his middle finger up at no one in particular, given the culprit was never identified, and then sped up a little as you both got up to the top of the stairs.

“I'm sorry. People are dumb and make ridiculous assumptions…like I’m really not trying to…”

“Peeta, it’s okay.” you reassured him, “If Clove had seen me, she probably would’ve been ten times worse and reminded me of one of her ridiculous tips to supposedly eliminate your gag reflex that she learned on TikTok.”

Peeta somewhat choked on the sip of his drink that he was taking, laughing at your comment, “Who said you couldn’t learn something off of the internet.”

He led you down a shorter hallway to a door. He knocked twice before opening it, finding it just as he must’ve left it, as you quickly put two-and-two together that this was his room. He shut and locked the door behind him, took another sip from his drink, and sat it on his bedside table before flopping on the bed as you leaned against the wall.

You took a big sip of your drink, hoping the alcohol kicked in sooner rather than later to get some control of the nerves that were bubbling up across your entire body. You watched as the blonde turned on his side and looked over at you.

“I'm not gonna bite, sweetheart…unless you’re into that.”

You couldn’t refrain from rolling your eyes at his cheesy line before you walked over to sit your drink next to his. Then, you removed your jacket, hanging it from his footrest. Before you could even turn your attention back to him, you could feel his eyes on you. It was like he was bearing a hole into the exposed skin on your back that was left uncovered from your dress now that your denim jacket had been discarded.

When you turned back around, he rolled onto his back with his hands behind his head, smiling up at you. “You’re gorgeous.”

It was spoken so matter-of-factly as if he was telling you the most basic of observations…as if it were obvious to anyone who looked at you. You could feel your chest swell slightly at his words. Your instinct was going to be to tell him to stop or to refute what he said, but you took a breath and let out a small, “Thank you” in response as you sat on the edge of his bed and then slowly inched your way back onto the bed, laying next to him.

The room was silent, aside from the bumping music that was playing behind the door and down the stairs, and your eyes were fixed on the ceiling fan, watching it spin to avoid meeting Peeta’s eyes, fearing the burning blush that would overtake your body if you did.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, breaking that silence.

“Nothing…” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. You weren’t giving your full thought process to anything. Instead, your brain was in several places at once. You’d thought about the makeup tutorial you’d seen earlier set to the song that was playing downstairs. You’d thought about how close Peeta was to you. You’d also thought about Katniss and Peeta’s study “date” from a while back too.

“Baby, if something’s bothering you, you can tell me.” he said. You finally glanced over at him. He was on his side, facing you, leaning against one hand while the other played with his hoodie string.

Baby.

Before you could stop yourself, the bigger question tumbled out of your lips, “What’s up with you?”

His features scrunched together in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“You take me on dates. You kiss me. You hold my hand. You call me baby.” you paused, “But then, I see you at the library with Katniss Everdeen and I have one of her stupid little friends in my DMs accusing me of being a homewrecker because you have your arm around me in a photo I didn’t even post…and I’ve seen you talking to other girls too, Peeta. You do the same thing, leaning against the wall, standing close to them. You’re smiling and laughing and the girl is playing with her hair and laughing back at you. What is all of that? Am I just the one you know will answer your random texts and calls to hang out…go to the club… make out in your car? Am I some weird escape from reality like…who…”

You were quickly silenced by his lips on yours, one hand coming up to your cheek, pulling you in closer to him. It was almost second nature at this point and your body quickly betrayed you despite your frustrations and melted into the kiss as it deepened, your hand coming to rest on his ribcage, progressively snaking onto his back and then upwards into his blonde locks as he moved over top of you.

The motion of him nudging your leg with his knee so he could position himself knocked you back into reality like a harsh slap to the face. You put both hands onto his chest and applied just enough pressure to jerk him back into the present as well. He looked confused. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and his lips were slightly swollen.

“Did I do something?”

You propped yourself up, causing him to move, rolling back onto his back, his arm dropping across his chest as he rather obviously tried to cool himself down. You sat up, looking down at Peeta, whose eyes met yours.

“You never answered my question.”

“Yes, I did.” He looked at you like you’d missed the most obvious sign in the universe, but you already knew he meant the kiss, and that was not the answer you were looking for.

You shook your head, “A kiss isn’t an answer. If anything, it just proves my point. I don’t understand you. You clearly, in some way, want me. So, what is it? Are you just playing the field…fucking a bunch of random girls…Are you in love with Katniss still?”

“Katniss?” Peeta looked like you’d slapped him clean across his handsome face.

“Yes, Katniss…” You repeated, glancing from him to the door, wondering if it’d just be better to get up and go home. You knew fully well that he’d follow you. There was no getting out of this.

“I get it. You’re hot. You’re nice. I genuinely don’t think you’d try to intentionally hurt anyone, but…”

“That’s it, right there.” He pointed toward you as you spoke, “You talk about me and my mixed signals…what is that? You go from basically saying I’m some piece of shit heartbreaker to saying I’d never hurt anyone. You do that a lot. You’ll go from dancing with me and kissing me…letting me hold you while you’re sleeping to acting completely disinterested in anything outside of a friendship. I’ve never dealt with anything like this before. Girls are usually pretty forward with me…regardless of whether I feel the same or not. I don’t know if it’s intentional…like you think it’ll make me want you more or what, but it’s driving me crazy. Other girls may want me...I don't know for sure, but I know for sure that I want you, not them. I’m trying my best to show you that…but you just keep pushing me away and I wish you’d stop.”

Your eyes dropped to the floor, suddenly hyper-aware of a scuff on the toe of your boots. Your heart pounded as you tried to process what he’d said. He was usually so confident and sure in his abilities to keep sucking you back in, but the wavering tones in his voice indicated otherwise. He was serious.

You turned back to him, “I…I like you a lot…a lot more than just a friend…which is why seeing you with those other girls drove me fucking insane. I want you and for you to only want me. I don’t want to just be some kind of convenience for you. I’m either your girlfriend or nothing at all.”

His lips curved into a smile as your arms crossed over your chest, waiting for a response from the blonde. Peeta sat up and moved in closer to you, his forehead resting against yours, lips inches from your own.

“As you wish, girlfriend.”

His lips were on yours as soon as the title was spoken, moving slowly and sensually. His hand came to your waist as you fell back onto the bed, pulling him down with you as you finally let him move over top of you. The kisses grew needier and more passionate as your hands moved to the hem of his hoodie, pulling it and his white undershirt over his head and allowing for him to toss them behind him.

The articles of clothing caught your jacket, bringing it to the floor as well. Your phone slid out of the pocket as it vibrated, going completely unnoticed next to the clothing.

Where are you?

Hello?

Oh my god, Cato just said he saw you going upstairs with Peeta. Good luck. ;) Remember what I told you about spelling your name. Trust me, works every single time.

#the hunger games #thg #the hunger games fanfiction #peeta mellark #peeta mellark x yn #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark x reader #hunger games x reader #fanfiction #catching fire #mockingjay #josh hutcherson #peeta mellark imagine

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 3 months

Text

a/n: andrei got an all star weekend fic last year, so it’s only right that mat gets one this year! i literally have a million favorite pics from this weekend so i had to use them all i don’t care. i tried to hit a bunch of the main weekend highlights! i’m also aware that some of the timing and stuff is weird in the fic, but we’re just rolling with it and enjoying the vibes. 🧡💙

word count: 7k

tw: innuendo, dirty talk, protected sex, oral (m receiving), fingering (f recieving), thigh riding, extremely minimal editing

summary: all star weekend in toronto with mat is one to remember

“Who do you think will pick you?” You ask, settled comfortably in the middle of the hotel room’s mattress, wrapped warmly in the plush robe. You have the perfect spot to watch Mat at the bathroom sink while he shaves. He’s in his suit pants, but his chest is bare, giving you the opportunity to watch his back and arm muscles move as he works.

“Dunno,” he replies, slightly muffled. You can see his face in the mirror, lips tucked in and half covered in shaving cream. He lets his hand fall to the counter and turns to face you, a crooked smile on his face made even more lopsided by the shaving cream beard. “If it’s not Mo and Auston though, I’m leaving.”

You roll your eyes, knowing that your boyfriend loves Justin Bieber almost more than he loves you. “I want Nate and Cale to pick you. I want to meet Tate McRae.”

“You can meet Tate McRae even if I’m not on her team,” Mat scoffs, returning to his shaving. “When am I ever going to get a chance to be coached by Justin Bieber? Never, Squeaks! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“You’re such a dork,” you murmur affectionately, grinning at his back and tucking your face into the collar of the robe. You have to get up and start getting ready soon, but you’re too comfortable to move. Mat’ll go over to the arena earlier for media interviews and the red carpet, but you don’t have to be there, technically at all, but you want to see the draft.

Mat finishes shaving his face and wipes his cheeks off with the hand towel. “You’re not being very supportive of my dreams,” he informs you dramatically, tossing the dirty towel onto the counter and planting his hands on his hips.

You kneel up on the bed and gape at him, amping up the dramatics. “I’m spending my vacation in cold ass Toronto instead of Baha Mar because I’m supportive of your dreams,” you laugh, throwing your arms out to your sides. “Sue me if I want you to have a good celebrity captain.”

“The Biebs would be the best captain,” Mat replies, crossing over to the bed in a handful of steps, reaching out to rest his hands on your hips. His fingers play with the tie of the robe. “He played hockey and he’s a huge fan.”

“Are their colors at least the blue jersey?” You ask. “You look so good in blue.”

Mat lifts an eyebrow. “That would make you support my coaching dreams? The color blue?”

You hum, resting your hands on his shoulders, playing with the chain around his neck. “I’m very superficial,” you inform him, deadpan.

“Yeah,” Mat replies, equally deadpan, “me too.” He breaks a second later, grinning and peppering kisses all over your face, making you squeal. His fingers dig into your sides, tickling you under the robe, and you wriggle on your knees, slumping forward over his chest when you can’t take it anymore. Gasping laughter saws from your chest and you try to catch your breath, but Mat’s making it hard with his hands splayed over your back. They’re warm and slightly rough and you’re both really wearing barely any clothes, it would be so easy to drag him down onto the bed.

He seems to be telepathically picking up on your thoughts because Mat presses a kiss to your bare shoulder where the robe has slipped off and says, “I gotta finish getting ready or I’m going to be late. But when we get back after the draft, my body is yours to use.”

You pull back and grin at him. “However I want?”

“Yeah,” he snorts, “I need to conserve energy to reclaim my title tomorrow, so you have to do all the work.”

“Pillow princess,” you accuse, pouting at him.

“Just for you, babe,” Mat shoots back, cupping your chin in his hand and tilting your head back so he can really kiss you, licking into your mouth and leaving you wet and wanting when he pulls back. “Start thinking about what position you want me in.”

He winks, laughing, and heads back to the bathroom to finish getting his hair in place. You slump back down on the bed and call to his back, “I’m making sure I get two orgasms before you even get one.”

“Fine by me,” Mat calls back, hands working through his hair. “I like the way you scream my name when you’re coming on my cock.”

Your entire body flushes with heat and you press your thighs together. “Damnit,” you mutter, knowing you need to start getting ready and you definitely don’t have time for even a halfway satisfying orgasm. “For that,” you call, starting to roll off the bed so you can do your hair and makeup, “I get three orgasms before you get one.”

“You’re being so mean to your All-Star,” Mat teases, shrugging into his button down and starting to do up the buttons. You plug in your curling iron and roll your eyes at him.

“Should’ve known all the attention would go to your head,” you sigh, pretending to be burdened by him. “I’m your All-Star, Mr. Barzal, and don’t you forget it.”

His answering grin crinkles his entire face and you go to him easily when he reaches out to grab your wrist and tug you into his chest. “That’s why I’m letting you have your orgasms before I get mine,” he says cheekily, pressing a smacking kiss to your cheek and disappearing to the other side of the room for his shoes.

You huff a little, a small smile playing on your lips, and return to fixing your hair. Mat finishes getting ready, lacing up his dress shoes and pulling on his suit jacket before throwing his arms out to his sides and doing a little half-turn, asking, “so, how do I look?”

“Like my All-Star,” you beam at him, tilting your head up for a kiss. He obliges. “I like this suit a lot,” you continue, reaching for your purse and withdrawing a Sharpie. You hold it up in between your bodies and tuck it into the inside pocket of his jacket. “Just in case.”

Mat pats his hand over the pocket and kisses your forehead. “Thanks, Squeaks. Text me when you get to the arena, okay? I’ll see you after the draft.”

You nod and with one final kiss, Mat’s out the door, leaving you with some peace and quiet to get ready. You do wish that Bo or Noah had been voted in too, so you’d at least have Holly or Alexa to hang out with while you’re watching the events. Mat’s parents and Liana are getting into town tomorrow afternoon, with enough time to join you for the Skills Competition, but until then, you’re on your own.

Luckily, you run into Steph Marner outside of the arena, saving you from the awkward first day of a new school feeling where you’ll either have to sit alone or find someone you know in the arena. You know Steph a little bit from different events and you’re friendly enough, it’s not the same as having one of your girls with you, but she’s a familiar face.

“Hey, girl!” Steph greets you with a hug that you return. “Welcome to the six!”

“I really wish you were welcoming me to the Bahamas,” you laugh, falling into step next to her. The crowds are wild and you look around as you walk in, having never been to an All-Star game before this is so much fun.

She lets loose a laugh, “you and me both! It would’ve been nice to get out of the city for a bit, but what can you do?” She shrugs and you fall into small talk for a little bit, catching up on what’s been happening since you last saw each other.

By the time the draft starts, you’re pleasantly tipsy and getting into the fun. The guys are all sitting on little benches on the ice and it’s adorable watching them swing their legs like toddlers. You snap a few photos of Mat from your spot in the stands, knowing the professional photos you’ll get from the team’s social media team later will be better. The draft starts and you wait impatiently for Mat to be picked.

By the time the fourth round ends and he hasn’t been picked, you’re starting to get cranky on his behalf. And slightly anxious that he’ll be picked last, even though you know logically that won’t happen. On the ice, he keeps swinging his legs, fidgeting in place until finally Mo and Auston pick him to join Team Bieber, along with half the Maple Leafs - Mitch Marner and William Nylander included.

Steph slaps your hand in a high-five, “woohoo! Teammates!”

You laugh and cheer along with her, snapping a picture of Mat getting a hug from Justin Bieber. You immediately send it off to your group chat, adding the message: pretty sure he’s going to leave me for the biebs 😭

The girls flood the chat, but you’re too busy laughing with Steph about Mat and Mitch’s chatter on the Team Bieber bench.

“Oh my god,” you laugh. “Mat’s such a yapper. He must be talking Mitch’s ear off.”

“Please,” Steph waves her hand in the air. “Mitch can’t shut up either. They probably aren’t even listening to each other.”

As the draft continues, you tune out a little since Mat’s been picked. Eventually, you tune back in and your gaze lands on your boyfriend manspreading to an extreme degree. Muffling a laugh with your hand, you shoot him a text, knowing he won’t see it until later: spread your legs a little wider, babe, i want to feel the stretch when i straddle you 👀

The draft comes to an end and it’s a little bit of a whirlwind after that, chatting with people you haven’t seen in a bit and wandering the arena until you find Mat. Or he finds you, actually.

“Team Bieber!” He crows, barely hiding his excitement now that it’s just you in front of him.

You grin at him, squeaked laughter pushed from your lungs when he crushes you to his chest in a hug. “Happy for you, Mat!”

“Babe,” he shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear, “this is gonna be so fucking fun. He hugged me!”

“You are the biggest fangirl I’ve ever seen,” you tease, tucking yourself under his arm and wrapping your arm around his waist. “It’s adorable.”

“I know you’re making fun of me right now,” he says, “but I don’t even care. We’ve got a Bieber concert to get to.”

You shake your head and let yourself be dragged along to the concert, knowing that Mat’s going to have the time of his life listening to one of his favorite artists perform live and that you’re going to get so many videos of him singing along that will immediately be sent to Beau for blackmail material.

The concert is actually beyond fun, and by the time you get back to the hotel, Mat’s completely forgotten about his earlier determination to be a pillow princess and has you out of your sweater and jeans before you really process what’s happening. His mouth and fingers work you up to two hard and fast orgasms, leaving you sweaty and breathless in the middle of the bed.

“Fuck,” you mutter, wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing them, bending your knees to draw his cock closer to your cunt. You clit throbs and the condom-wrapped head of Mat’s cock bumps against it, making you see stars.

“One more each, okay?” Mat mutters, pushing into you slowly. You whine and clench around him, scraping your nails down his back. He hisses at the sting, but doesn’t stop until he’s seated fully inside your pussy, breathing hard. Sweat rolls down his temples, dampening his hair.

You barely last a few minutes, overly sensitive from the last two orgasms, and you come before Mat, stroking your hands over every inch of him you can reach while he pumps his hips into yours. He grunts into your neck when he comes, filling the condom and nearly crushing you with the heavy weight of his body on top of yours. The air is pushed from your lungs, Mat’s sweaty chest pressed against yours.

“Fuck,” he mumbles into your hair, “that felt good. You feel good. Could stay here forever.”

You kiss his shoulder. “I’d make some kind of innuendo about being an all star, but I think my brain is melted,” you say honestly, still wrapped around Mat like an octopus and making no effort to move.

——-

Mat’s Friday is quiet, other than an early afternoon practice for the Saturday game and the Skills Competition at night, so you have a lazy morning with him in bed. Neither of you bothered with clothes the night before, so it’s easy to get your hands on him and harder to get his hands off of you. You slip under the covers and wake him up with your mouth on his cock, sucking him off until he comes in your mouth. After he returns the favror with a slow, lingering orgasm, you shower and decide to head off to explore downtown Toronto for a bit before Mat goes to practice and you head off to the airport in the rental car to pick up Mat’s parents and sister.

“Thank god you’re here,” you give Liana a huge hug after helping everyone load their bags into the trunk. “It’s so hard being the only one around to chirp Mat to his face.”

“Please tell me you have video of the Bieber of it all,” she grins at you, a little evilly. You nod and she she pumps her fist. Nadia shakes her head.

“Don’t be mean to your brother this weekend,” she turns around in the passenger seat to face you both. Michael had insisted on driving back into the city and you weren’t about to argue - Toronto traffic rivaled New York traffic.

Liana rolls her eyes. “Mom, he needs some humbling,” she replies. “It’s good for his character

growth.”

You hide a giggle behind your hand. The Barzal sibling dynamic is one of your favorite things to witness. “I promise, Nadia,” you say, leaning forward a bit, “Mat gets so much praise. He does need a little humbling every once in a while.”

Once you’re back in the city, you drop the car and everyone’s bags off at the hotel and head over to meet Mat at the arena. He’s waiting for you all in the main lobby, looking fresh and clean and beyond adorable in his new All-Stars beanie. His smile is huge and only grows when he gives his parents hugs hello. He rubs the top of Liana’s head in a noogie that has her punching his arm, while they both laugh.

“Hi,” you smile up at him. You missed him even though it’s been less than two hours since you saw him.

“Hi,” Mat kisses you quickly before tugging the beanie off his head and unceremoniously dropping it on yours, tugging the cuff of it low over your forehead and smushing your hair. You wrinkle your nose at him and he raises an eyebrow. “It’s cold and you look cute in it.”

You lift your phone, the screen lighting up to display a handful of social media notifications and texts, “not as cute as you, according to the Twitter girlies. Apparently, you’re giving babygirl.” Your grin is shit-eating and Liana openly cracks up next to you, even as Michael and Nadia frown at each other, completely confused by the social media phrases.

Mat’s ears go pink and he nudges his hip against yours. “Shut up, let’s just go for lunch and not talk about that,” he rests his hand against your lower back and slings the other arm over Liana’s shoulder, guiding the both of you out of the arena.

“Oh no,” his sister says in a sugary-sweet tone, “we’re definitely talking about it. I have a few of my favorites bookmarked to mention…” She trails off, starting to scroll through her phone.

“Mom!” Mat whips his head around to look at Nadia. She plucks the phone from Liana’s hands and stashes it in her purse.

Michael, in order to cut off Liana’s complaint, jumps in, “Mat, tell us about Patrick Roy. How’s the change going?”

Luckily, the new coach is a topic Mat could happily chatter on about for hours, so he takes the bait and you end up having a fairly peaceful lunch before heading back to the hotel for a little relaxation before the Skills Competition. Liana comes to hang out with you and Mat, while Michael and Nadia get in a quick nap after their long flight. You put a movie on, but really the three of you end up gossiping and catching up, before Mat finally kicks you both out so he can get in a short nap too.

“Love you,” he kisses you before essentially pushing you out the door.

“Yeah, I really feel the love,” you roll your eyes, quickly pulling your coat back before Mat can close the door on it.

Liana smiles at you wryly. “I don’t know how you put up with him, but thank god for you. Let’s go get a coffee,” she says, linking arms with you as you stroll down to the elevators. You have the toque back on your head, adjusted so it’s not smashing your hair flat, and you can’t help but smile when you think about Mat putting it on your head in the first place.

“He’s surprisingly easy to love,” you laugh. “When he’s not being a drama queen.”

“Ugh,” Liana rolls her eyes affectionately, “you guys are disgusting.”

“Be nice or I’m going to decide to renovate the guest room during the week in April you’re coming to visit,” you joke.

——-

The arena is even louder and more chaotic during the Skills Competition and you’re having fun with Liana, taking pictures and getting snacks while you wait for everything to start.

“Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, scrolling through Instagram before the events start. The reel the team’s socials have posted of Mat picking out his skate blades has your panties immediately damp and you’re ready to demand it get taken down for your own sanity. You shift in your seat, damp fabric scraping against your wet cunt.

Liana looks over your shoulder to see what you’re looking at. “Oh gross,” she fakes a gagging noise. “He needs to put those away.”

“Or save them just for me,” you mumble, for her ears only. As much as you love Nadia and Michael, they don’t need to hear how horny you are for their son. Liana bumps your shoulder and your fingers slip over the screen.

“I’m gonna go blind, put that thirst trap away,” she frowns. “They’re going to start now.”

She’s right and Mat is the first one introduced on the ice. The four of you jump to your feet and scream for him, your heart pounding with excitement. Mat looks so stupidly happy to be on the ice, you can’t help but let out an extra loud wolf-whistle for him.

The Fastest Skater competition is up first and you won’t admit it, but you’re a little nervous for Mat to hold onto his title. You clench your hands together while William Nylander, Quinn Hughes, and Cale Makar go, crossing your fingers when their times are all over 14 seconds.

Mat’s fourth and you scream when he’s under 14 seconds, holding first until, of course, Connor McDavid unseats him. It’s annoying and a little frustrating, but you’re still beyond proud of Mat for being so close.

“Fuck that!” Liana grumbles, echoing your thoughts.

“He’s fastest skater in my heart,” you whisper back, purposely not telling her your plan to giving him a blow job at the end of the night.

One Timers is next. Honestly, you have no idea what the rules on this one are, but you just enjoy the show. Especially since Mat’s not that great in this competition in the end. You can see the scowl on his face and even Nadia laughs a little.

“He’s so hard on himself, even for fun events,” she shakes her head.

You can see him shake his head after his turn at the Passing Challenge, but honestly you’re really just focused on down damn good he looks with the backwards cap on his head. Watching Mat show off his skills is always your favorite thing. Mat takes third in this challenge and then talks to Kevin Weekes on ice and you record him while he talks, loving that crooked smile of his.

“I can’t believe he’s tied for first,” Liana shakes her head, filling in Michael and Nadia as they come back to the seats with drinks. “Think he’ll drop a couple thousand my way?”

“I’ll make sure of it,” you nudge her side. “Right after he funds my tropical vacation.”

During the musical break, you both get up to use the bathroom and stretch your legs. Your phone is vibrating with texts from the team and the girls, chirping Mat and making sure you know to pass on the messages.

Mat’s final event is Stick Handling and you keep your fingers crossed throughout the break - he’s in third overall and honestly you think he could pull off a win. Either way, you know you’re going to celebrate with him later.

“That’s my man!” You shout when Mat’s announced for second place. “Silkiest mits in the league!”

Liana and Nadia jump up to celebrate with you - Mat’s tied for first over all with one competition left.

He makes it to the next round and the three of you cheer, laughing and more than a little tipsy off of arena beers and cocktails. It’s so much more fun to cheer him on and celebrate Mat with his family.

“I always forget how good he is,” Nadia comments. “I know he’s good, but he’s having fun out there too.”

“No, he was literally off the wall excited to come back,” you tell her. “Being selected and then getting to replace Jack Hughes in the skills comp, on top of the new coach, Mat’s been in such a good mood lately.”

“He’s also whipped,” Liana teases you. You stick your tongue out at her.

“He just knows when he has to listen and turn off his hockey brain,” you shrug, talking over the music.

“Oh, Mat sucks at the shootout,” you groan, seeing what the One on One competition entails. “I just need him to not be last on this one.”

Mat picks Igor Shesterkin as his goalie and you watch him collect six points and sit in a tie for third. The New York rivalry runs strong and you can’t wait for the Stadium Series game in two weeks. You’re kind of treating the cold in Toronto as a preview of sitting out in the cold in New Jersey.

And with that, Mat’s onto the final round.

“One step closer to that cool million,” Liana grins. “You know how big of an engagement ring you could get with that…”

You choke on your sip of water and Michael claps you on the back while Nadia frowns at Liana. “No way I need or want something that big,” you manage to squeak out. “Not to be, like, basic, but I’d take a page out of Taylor Swift’s book and marry him with a paper ring.”

Your entire face feels like it’s burning red, talking about marrying Mat in front of his parents. You do, obviously, want to marry him, but it feels strange to say so in front of his parents when you’ve only met them a handful of times.

Liana’s shit-eating grin is identical to Mat’s. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she says and when you try to say anything, she shushes you and points to the ice, where the obstacle course is starting.

“Oh, he’s locked in,” Liana says and you’re all leaning forward in your seats as Mat goes through the obstacles.

“Oh god,” you groan, covering your eyes with your hands as Mat struggles with the little nets. Liana and Nadia wince at your sides. It’s like a train wreck, you can’t look away from his struggle. When they have to bring out more pucks for him, your heart sinks into your stomach.

Mat’s time in the end is awful, and you can see his disappointment on his face when he looks up at the jumbotron. He would’ve beaten McDavid if the nets hadn’t tripped him up.

“Ah, he did his best,” Michael says and you nod. It sucks that Mat didn’t place higher, but you’re so proud of him. Considering he wasn’t even chosen to be in the Skills Competition in the first place, the fact that he made it to the final round and nearly won is an incredible effort.

Mat texts you all in a group chat that you’d honestly forgotten existed, letting you know that he still has to shower and do some media availability, so he’ll meet you all back at the hotel.

Michael and Nadia decide to head to bed and you promise to let Mat know - you’ll all get together for breakfast before Mat goes to his morning skate before the game at 3. You and Liana hang out in the hotel bar until Mat joins you a little more than an hour later, spotting you immediately and wedging himself in the few inches of space left in the arm chair you’re sitting in. He squishes you to the side with his thighs, spreading them without concern. His arms wrap around your shoulders and he kisses the side of your head. “Hey, Squeaks,” he greets you, adjusting so one of your legs is draped over his and you’re as close as you could possibly be.

“Jesus,” Liana mutters. “Get a room.”

Mat squints at her, “I would love to.”

You nudge his side and murmur, “behave,” at him. All that does is encourage Mat to get in your face and kiss you hungrily. A surprised giggle is swallowed by Mat’s mouth and Liana’s disgusted scoff makes Mat smile against your lips.

“I’m going to bed,” she pushes up from her chair. “See you two in the morning. And wear a condom, I’m not ready to be an aunt.”

You and Mat choke simultaneously, Liana’s laughter echoing as she dances away. You drop your forehead to Mat’s shoulder and he shakes his head, “she really knows how to kill the mood.”

When you shift your leg though, you can feel the bulge of Mat’s cock against your thigh. “I don’t think she killed the mood that much,” you tease, curling closer to him. “Should we go upstairs and I can reward you for being the all-star of my heart?”

“Cheesy,” Mat accuses even as he’s pulling you to your feet and guiding you to the elevator bank. “I’m exhausted though, I didn’t realize how much work the obstacle course would be.”

“I’ll do all the work, don’t you worry,” you grin at him.

Less than ten minutes later you have him on his back, cunt clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, fuck,” Mat groans, fingers digging into your hips. “Baby, god, fuck feels so good.”

You lean forward, bouncing over Mat’s cock, nails digging into his chest. “Wanted to do this all day,” you gasp. “All the posts, your fucking thighs, Mat! Been soaked for you.”

He laughs underneath you, sliding one hand to play with your clit. You whine and feel your arousal leak from your body, smearing all over Mat’s pelvis. “Thought about riding my thighs, baby?” He asks, gripping your hip even tighter and helping you bounce on him.

“Every fucking day,” you admit, choking on air when Mat bucks his hips up into yours, the head of his cock smacking against your g-spot. “All-Star Mat is my favorite Mat.”

His face is red from exertion, beads of sweat rolling down his temples, but even still you can tell that your praise is getting to him, flushing his chest pink and making his rhythm over your clit stutter. You grin wickedly down at him, knowing exactly how you want to play him.

“I’m so proud of you,” you murmur sincerely, grinding down on him. “Came in and killed it, made it look easy,” you hiccup on a particularly aggressive bounce, “so fucking handsome. My all-star. Mine, mine, mine.”

“Fuuuuck” Mat drags out the curse, bending his knees and planting his feet on the mattress so he can fuck up into you roughly. “Jesus. Wanted to win ‘cause you were there.”

You whimper every time Mat’s cock hits your g-spot, nearly there, and praise him again, “always a winner. Always my winner. Love you so much.”

Mat’s cock thickens inside of you while you clench around him and you plant your hands on his stomach for leverage and to feel his muscles bunch up in the lead up to his orgasm. He groans and squeezes a handful of your ass, bucking up into you harshly. “Gonna - sorry, baby. Need to come,” he groans your name, filling the condom with a deep growl. You keep riding him through it, replacing his hand on your clit with yours so he can grip your hips and bounce you while he finishes.

“C’mon, fill me up,” you whine, chanting his name, rolling your fingers over your clit until you finish a few seconds after him, gushing around the base of his cock and his lower stomach. You slump over his chest and Mat grunts underneath you, smoothing his hands over your ass.

“God, that was fucking amazing,” he mutters into your hair, kissing your cheek. “Gotta be the all-star more often.”

You laugh and wiggle your ass over him, cunt clenching lazily around him. “I dunno, I was supposed to take care of you, but you took over there for a bit,” you mumble against his skin.

“Couldn’t help it,” he shrugs, “looked so fucking good with your tits bouncing, that gorgeous face you make when I hit as deep as possible.” He yawns a little, swallowing the last few words of his sentence.

“Shut up,” you laugh lightly, swatting at his chest while you roll off of him, sticky and sore. Mat moves to get up, but you push him back a little and wrap a hand around his hip. “I’ve got it.” You make quick work of the condom, tying a knot at the top and padding into the bathroom to get rid of it. You rinse off quickly and bring Mat back a damp washcloth to clean off his stomach, but by the time you get back into the bedroom, he’s got one arm tucked behind his head and he’s fast asleep, letting out gentle grumbling snores.

You laugh a little to yourself, shaking your head. Men.

Still, you wipe him off carefully - not that it matters, he doesn’t move at all - and climb into bed with him, after stealing a clean t-shirt from his suitcase.

Mat chokes a little on his snore and rolls over, grabbing you around the waist and hauling you close to his chest. His arm is a strong lock over your stomach and you shift, getting comfortable before falling asleep with the warm weight of Mat’s body at your back.

You wake up a little bit later, with one of Mat’s thighs wedged in between your legs, corded muscle pressed up against your cunt, making it throb. You grind experimentally over his leg and he grunts against your hair, warm breath fanning over the back of your neck and making you shiver.

“Mat?” You whisper his name quietly and his arm tightens around your waist. You trace your fingertips over the veins on his hand.

His thigh flexes against you and you gasp, warmth pooling between your legs.

“Told you to use me,” Mat mumbles sleepily, kissing behind your ear. “Go ‘head.”

His hand is splayed flat over your stomach and he pushes gently, spurring you into movement. Your hips rock lazily over his thigh, the sleepy rhythm making it hard for you to hold onto the coil of pleasure. Mat rocks his half-hard cock into your backside and you sigh softly, heat building in your blood.

“Feels good,” he sighs, helping you move over him, eyes still shut. He hikes his thigh up higher, catching your clit on his leg hair and sensing a wave of pleasure through your body.

You whine his name, burying your fingers between your legs to help coax yourself to an orgasm. “Wanna feel you,” you whisper and Mat’s hand slips between your bodies, leaving your stomach cold, so he can roughly jerk his cock a few times, tugging until he’s harder.

He pulls you back by the hip, until his cock is nestled between your thighs and you angle back against him, slipping the head of him inside your entrance. A breathy sigh escapes your lungs and Mat rocks his hips so his cock thrusts in and out of your shallowly. Between his cock and your fingers, you’re falling over the cliff of pleasure within seconds, slick covering your thighs.

“Roll over,” you rasp, legs still trembling. You’re not about to go searching in the dark for a condom, so you settle yourself in between Mat’s powerful thighs and take him into your mouth, tasting yourself on him. Both of his hands land on your head, tangling in your hair and holding you in place while you lick at him, kissing the head of his cock and hollowing your cheeks around him until he’s coming in your mouth.

Mat groans, hips bucking up into your mouth, eyes screwed shut. “Babe, christ, love that fucking mouth,” he says hoarsely, hauling you up his body when you’re done so he can kiss you sleepily.

You’re exhausted and close your eyes again, lying over Mat’s chest, his arms wrapped around your back. “You make me so stupid,” you mumble against his collarbone, asleep before you know it.

——-

Saturday is the big game day and after your middle of the night sexcapades, you and Mat oversleep so he just barely has time for breakfast with everyone before he’s off to the arena for a little morning skate and a brief stint on NHL News.

You and the Barzals decide to take in a little bit of the Fan Fest before exploring downtown Toronto before the game starts. It’s fun to spend so much time with Mat’s family and you’re looking forward for them to coming to Long Island for Easter.

The games themselves are beyond fun to watch, since the guys are all taking it seriously while still having a good time.

When Mat and Team Bieber make it to the finals, you and Liana are beside yourselves, screaming with excitement.

“Mat willed them to a win so he can spend more time with Justin,” Liana laughs and you agree.

“Honestly, I’m not convinced he wouldn’t dump me for Justin,” you snort, snapping a picture of Mat on the ice.

Team Bieber/Matthews wins the whole thing and you know it’s just a silly fun weekend, but you can’t help be so incredibly proud of Mat and his performance all weekend. He’s been so light and happy all weekend and you know it was the break he needed to reset for the second half of the season.

After he finishes with post-game media availabilities - where he apparently mentions his future kids, much to Liana and Nadia’s delight and your slight panic, one day but definitely not any time soon - he comes and meets you all for dinner. Mat’s still buzzing from adrenaline and won’t shut up about Justin Bieber as a coach.

“He was just so invested,” he says. “Really wanted to win and knew what he was talking about.”

“Who’s a better coach,” you cut in slyly, “Justin Bieber or Patrick?”

He pins you with a wry look, as his parents laugh. “Squeaks, that’s just not fair.”

“It’s also not even a competition,” Michael points out. “I would think Patrick Roy has nothing on Justin Bieber’s enthusiasm.”

You recognize your boyfriend’s father’s sarcastic joke and giggle. Everyone knows about Patrick’s enthusiastic coaching style.

“I actually can’t wait to get back to it,” Mat says, swiping a bite of your steak off your plate. “I feel really good about the back half.”

Dinner continues comfortably for another few hours, Mat soaking up time with his family while he doesn’t have to worry about practice or a game tomorrow. Eventually, you all head back to your rooms - the Barzals are flying back to Vancouver tomorrow afternoon, while you and Mat get to enjoy the day together before the team flies in before the game.

“Oh, hey, check this out,” Mat’s nearly bouncing when you get back to your hotel room, directing your attention to a huge gift bag sitting on the bed.

You raise an eyebrow, “all star game swag?”

“Even better,” Mat’s eyes are wide. “Justin gave us all some stuff from his line.”

Muffling a giggle with your hand, you poke at the gift bag. “Justin? Your new best friend?” You ask, dryly, spotting a grey hoodie at the top of the pile.

Mat nudges you with his knuckles. “Just for that, I’m not sharing my new gear,” he informs you, pulling each item out of the bag. He’s like a kid on Christmas, giddy with each piece of merch and relaying more stories about Justin behind the bench, like you haven’t heard them all already.

You indulge him, getting ready for bed as he talks, giving him a soft, affectionate smile when he finally pauses his yapping. “You are such a dork,” you murmur, squishing his cheeks between your palms and planting a quick kiss on her pursed lips. “It’s a good thing you’re so cute.”

——

Sunday is quiet, festivities over. Mat immediately pulls on his new Drew hoodie and you snag the sweats, going for comfort over fashion for your day.

“Steal that sweatshirt and send it to me,” Liana says, hugging you goodbye.

“Over my dead body,” Mat shakes his head at her. “Buy your own.”

You sling an arm around Mat’s waist and lean into him. “Oh, calm down. No one’s stealing the gifts your boyfriend gave you,” you wrinkle your nose at him in a crinkly-eyed smile.

He snaps at the waist band of your pilfered sweats and gives you a stink eye. You laugh, “I live with you! They’re going back to our shared dresser.”

“In my drawer,” Mat says and you nod, indulging him. You both know that you’re keeping the sweats.

Once Mat’s parents and Liana are off to the airport, the rest of the day is chill. You’re soaking up the time with Mat before he goes back into the grind for the back half of the season.

“Hey,” you say at dinner later, nudging his foot with yours under the table.

Mat looks up from the menu, hair a little messy, eyes still bright from the excitement of the weekend.

“I just…I’m really proud of you,” you manage to say around the little ball of emotion in your throat. You reach across the table and lace your fingers with his and Mat squeezes them gently. “This has been the best weekend and I hope you get to bring this excitement to the back half of the season.”

His grins at you, that crooked smile of his that you love so much, and says, “having you here was the second best part of the weekend.”

“Let me guess,” you deadpan, “becoming besties with Justin was the best part?”

He nods, eyes twinkling, “yep.”

“I hate you,” you snort a laugh, smiling despite yourself.

“It’s a really close second though,” Mat assures you.

With a faint sigh, you shake your head, “I see where I stand. Maybe I’ll just have to cheer for the Leafs tomorrow.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Mat rushes to say and you kick his shin lightly.

“Of course not,” you scoff. “What kind of Long Islander would I be, rooting for the enemy?”

Mat pinches your palm, “a terrible one and an awful girlfriend too.”

You hum and say nonchalantly, “you’d think two blowjobs in a weekend, plus riding you, would cement me as best girlfriend ever.”

“Make it three and I’ll marry you right now,” Mat jokes, surprising a laugh out of your chest. Your heart skips a beat in your chest at the mention of marrying Mat, even as a little joke. You want to be his forever.

“You know,” you say, voice shaking just slightly, “marriage is all about give and take.”

Mat bumps his knee against yours, grinning wickedly. “Baby, if you wanted an orgasm, all you had to do was ask,” he says, voice low so he won’t be heard in the restaurant.

Your entire body heats with lust and you brush your fingers over your lips, hiding the involuntary little smile Mat’s words elicit. “Oh,” your voice is breathless, “well, if that’s all it takes.”

“You going to ask for what you want?” Mat asks, running his thumb over the backs of your knuckles.

Leaning forward, you hum, catching the faint hint of Mat’s cologne and the hotel shampoo. You wet your lower lip and watch as Mat’s gaze tracks the tiny movement of your tongue. Quietly, you murmur just for Mat’s ears, “I want some all-star orgasms before I become a hockey widow again.”

Mat chuckles and leans forward too so he can give you a quick kiss. “I think I can make that happen,” he replies easily, leaning back in his seat. You can see from the way his body shifts that he’s spreading his legs again. You shift in your seat, feeling hot. He smirks a little at you, clearly seeing the way your body reacts to him.

Fuck, it may be a three blowjob weekend after all.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal fic #nhl fic

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shadeysprings · 7 months

Text

YOU

—Art Collector!Steve Kemp x F!Reader

Summary — Your unexpected meeting with the famous art collector takes a dark turn when you learn the secret of his private collection.

Warnings — oral (female receiving), dismembered bodies, disrespect to the dead, entrapment, plots of killing, serial killer vibes, Steve being a calm psycho. There may be more I haven't mentioned but please read with caution.

Word Count — 5.4K

A/N — Story #1 for my FREAKtober Fest. The fic was heavily inspired by the movie itself and House of Wax. I'm happy to finally explore Steve's character in writing and I must say, I enjoyed every bit of it. The title was taken from the song You.

Gif by the amazing @steve-kemp

Shout out to @vellicore and @sgt-seabass for bouncing ideas with me and being my beta.

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️

They didn’t come.

It was all you could think about as almost 2 hours had passed since your grad show started. Despite your parents’ — mostly your mom’s — disapproval of pursuing an arts program, you still invited them to the show. You hoped that if they saw what you were truly doing, they would understand your passion for paints and charcoal.

But it was a long shot, and you knew that. Though at least you tried…right?

You envy your classmates who carry bouquets while they present their artwork to their families and strangers alike. You were lucky enough to have a few come by your cubicle, delighted to explain the medium and process of your work. Some seemed genuinely intrigued while others, you can tell, only came by and endured your talk for the free stickers you offered at the end of your spiels.

Another hour passes by and you look up front when you hear an announcement being made by your instructor; a class photo. You’re reluctant to join, seeing no value in such a thing to be done as it’s obvious that once the day ends, they will be strangers once again. But another adamant call from your instructor has you heading to the front, a frown forming on your face when you’re pushed at the back, towered by your classmates—unseen once more.

As parents and several others grab the opportunity to take a photo, your eyes suddenly divert back to your cubicle when you see someone looking over at your main art piece. You can’t put a pin on his face but you know you’ve seen him before.

Once the group photo has ended, you immediately head back to your spot, catching the familiar stranger taking one of your stickers as well as a business card that sits beside it. It’s when you finally recognize him—and you’re in utter shock that he would be looking at your work. He finally notices you, a smile on his face as he holds out his hand.

“Hi.” He begins, “I’m—”

“You’re Steve Kemp.” You finish for him, the confidence you suddenly displayed startling the both of you. But you push on when you see a smile of amusement on his face, taking his hand to shake. “You’re the famous art collector.” You wouldn’t have known it was him with how dressed down he looked with the corduroy jacket and navy jeans, but you’ve seen his face several times in art articles that you wouldn’t miss it.

“I wouldn’t say I’m famous.” He humbles himself but he lacks the conviction to make it believable. “I think I’m just skilled in finding pretty things—like this one.” He gestures towards your charcoal painting, the look of interest evident on his face. “What compelled you to incorporate a whale and an astronaut? What’s the story behind it?”

His question makes you smile. Maybe he is interested, you think to yourself and look towards your artwork before diving deep into your answer.

“The artwork was inspired by the 52 Hertz Whale.” You begin. “Just to give you a little background; out of all the whale species, it’s the only one that makes a call with such a distinct pitch. Researchers had guessed that it could be a hybrid of two whale species but any attempts to search for the creature for further study have failed. Though some have been saying that it’s not a whale but an entirely different animal.

“Loneliness was the main theme of the piece—just like the whale, if it truly exists, it is alone in the vast sea; with no family to call its own and with it being different from the others, no one would listen or understand their cries. Akin to the lonely astronaut floating in the endless void of space. Though the flowers and the seagull represent hope and freedom—that one day, everything they thought to be true would change, that someone is there to listen and welcome them in their arms.”

You feel yourself shiver and your heart race as you end your interpretation. How the art piece truly mirrors your life and your cry for recognition from the people who truly matter. You try your best not to shed the tears that well in your eyes, presenting the collector with a smile and hoping he sees it as passion and confidence.

But the look on his face startles you; there’s no judgment but you see a hint of amusement in his sapphire eyes. You think he’s about to say something, to comment on what you said, instead, he looks back at the artwork, seemingly appraising it.

“How much?” The question stuns you. Did you hear correctly?

“I’m sorry?”

“I want to buy your art piece.” He expounds. “How much are you selling it for?”

That’s the last thing you expected to be asked in a college grad show. Was he seriously wanting to purchase it? You try to answer, to tell him that you’re not really looking for buyers nor expecting to sell any of your work but no words come out of your mouth, still taken aback by his surprising inquiry.

“I don’t—” You stutter. “I’m not really—”

The chuckle he makes has you pulling on the cuffs of your oversized flannel, feeling slightly anxious at the thought that he’s making fun of your state of shock. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He says with a smile, one that you mimic if only to ease the tension building within you. “But I am serious. I do want to buy it.”

Still, you don’t know what to say. Do you just give him an amount and call it a day?

“Why don’t you sit on it? Let’s say two days and I can give you a call for your price.” He holds up your business card between two fingers, the smile on his face turning into a playful smirk. “What do you say?”

Under-dressed.

Not that it was a concern you realistically should have but the patrons of the bar made you feel as such with the men clad in suit jackets and the women, either in dresses or whatever you call the style of attire that was classier than your hoodie-jeans-sneakers combo. At least you brought a coat—that’s fancy enough, right?

You nurse your Bellini cocktail and thumb through your phone while waiting for Steve, popping your conversation thread with him every second or two just to assure yourself that he confirmed, or rather, planned the night of drinks to discuss your “Lonely Whale” piece as he coined it. It seemed odd at first but his determination was what compelled you to agree to meet him.

The hiss of the straw fills your ears as you suck the last dregs of your drink. You shouldn’t have come early, you tell yourself, then you wouldn’t need to order another glass to accompany you on your wait.

“Need a top-up?” A familiar voice from behind startles you and you look up to see Steve, decorated in a maroon wool sweater and that tantalizing smile he seems to always have. “I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad coming here to this part of town.” He says as he takes a seat beside you in the booth.

You scoot over to give him room, surprised that he didn’t take the one across from you. “Please, don’t be sorry. I wasn’t waiting long.” You assure him with a soft smile, tapping a finger on the rim of your glass. “The drink kept me company.”

“Are they any good?” He asks but he’s already called the attention of a server before you can even reply. He orders a Bloody Mary—quite peculiar, you think, but you’re not one to judge someone's preference. “And the lady will have another, please.”

Silence envelops the both of you as you wait for the drinks to arrive, feeling shy and anxious when he rests his arm against the back of the booth and turns in his seat to face you. You’re not used to being seen yet here’s this man, well-known in the field you didn’t think to excel in giving you such unwarranted attention.

“Uhmm, so I asked my instructor about the painting,” you begin as you try to break the ice, “and he said that—” but stop when he shakes his head and lets out a gentle laugh.

You think he’s playing at your lack of knowledge of these types of transactions that it makes you second-guess your words. Maybe you should have come off more confident and prevented showing him an inkling of your cluelessness. But the smile he sends your way speaks of something different. There is no presence of ill-intent yet you still keep your guard up.

“We can talk business later. I’d like to get to know the artist more first.” He says and for some reason, it could be how comfortable he seems to be around you, that you nod at his request, a soft smile forming on your lips.

“Well, what do you want to know?”

Giggling.

It’s been a while since you’ve done it but you guess after 4 glasses of the Bellini and a sip of his Bloody Mary, anyone would be in a lighter and more carefree mood. Just like how you are.

The anxiety that filled you when you first walked into the bar seems non-existent with how well Steve carries a conversation. He listened to you complain and laughed at your sarcastic comments, throwing back another to keep the exchange alive. There was no dull moment to be recorded, only understanding when you shared the struggle of an art student living in a fast-paced environment. He’s probably the first person in your life who knows almost everything there is to know about you and even if he is a total stranger, he feels more familiar than any other.

The night rolls by quicker than you’d hoped and the next thing you know you’re in his car, the alcohol messing with you as you begin belting out garbled lyrics to an Adele song. You’ve never felt so free and relaxed, and who would have thought you’d find it in someone who simply wants to buy your art project?

You arrive shortly at your apartment building, a curious thought passing through your head as you don’t recall typing in your address in the GPS. But it goes just as quickly as it came when the passenger door is opened and Steve holds out a hand to help you out.

He says your name, the syllables rolling like honey on his tongue and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the way the moon shines against his face, but you truly notice how his sapphire eyes glow brighter with how close he stands to you, his cologne permeating your senses and his warmth mixing with yours, keeping away the cold autumn breeze of the night that surrounds the both of you.

“I had a lovely evening.” He breathes, allowing him to take your hand in his. “And I don’t want it to end just yet.”

And it doesn’t.

You invite Steve into your apartment for coffee, something to help completely sober him up and drive home safe. But as soon as you close the door and toe off your shoes, his hands are on your face and his lips capture yours, a soft grunt escaping you when he presses you against the door. You’re too stunned to process that he’s kissing you, only finally realizing it when he breaks the kiss and looks at you with his eyes so blue.

You think he’s about to speak, to apologize for his forwardness, but instead he smiles while his thumb caresses the apple of your cheek. You don’t understand what he sees in you to warrant such soft affection, or to even consider you as someone to kiss.

He leans closer once more, this time you sense the apprehension in his movements and with the way his eyes linger on your face. You shut your brain off completely, not wanting reason and rationality to stop whatever force that was pulling you together. So you meet him halfway, hands resting against his chest when you press your lips against his, a moan escaping you as when you feel him pull you further into the kiss.

To say he was a good kisser was an understatement with the way his wet muscle caressed your own and how his lips wrestle you into a passionate exchange. He chuckles when he bumps against a side table while walking backwards, blindly into the living room, hands pawing at each other, groping, touching, and you lift up his sweater as the desire to feel his skin blooms in your head.

But he doesn’t give you that chance as you drop back onto your loveseat couch, Steve’s hands pushing up your hoodie to expose the tank top hidden within. His fingers tickle your skin, teasing, taunting, and in one swift move he pulls down the cups of your bra having your tits spill out from them.

Mewls and moans are the only sounds that leave your lips, coherent words nonexistent with how his lips wrap around a mound, sucking, licking, and dampening the fabric to expose your stiff nipples which he gives his undivided attention to. You try to reach for him, to at least make sure that this is all real and not a dream, but his hands take yours, preventing you from even running your finger through his dark hair, the act only heightening your senses further.

But his venture to your breasts eventually stops and you look down at him when he trails butterfly kisses against your stomach, hands releasing yours only to undo the button and fly of your jeans. The garment flies but your panties stay, and you swear you could almost combust just from the way he looks at you—his eyes swirling with hunger, eagerness, and desperation for a taste.

Slowly, he trails kisses against your inner thighs, lips, and teeth meeting skin, not hard enough to hurt but enough to feel. The nervousness swirls around you like twine, making your heart beat loudly against your chest as everything feels too new, too alien, despite this no longer being your first. But you’ve never encountered anyone as captivating as Steve and you feel as if he would run away once he sees you completely.

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispers into the air, his warm breath grazing against your heated core.

It’s only then you comprehend what he’s done, your panties pushed to the side to expose you completely before him and all at once you feel your body burn when he laves his tongue against your pussy lips, gentle at first, testing the waters which shift to intent as he pushes them apart with his fingers, your sacred bud caressed by his expert tongue.

You whisper his name as he begins delving into your pussy, strong hands keeping your thighs apart and pushing them down against the couch with his groans of pleasure filling your ears and fueling your desire for him. You reach down to run your fingers through his hair which you end up grabbing as a gasp is pulled from your lungs when he begins to suck your clit.

The room feels like it's spinning with the ecstasy that climbs higher within your body, your senses no longer feeling like your own as Steve pushes on with his pursuit, his mouth dancing beautifully against your clit, his fingers digging into the meat of your thigh. But he stops, and a small wave of panic arises in your chest. Though it washes away like footprints on the sand when he ventures lower, his thumb taking purchase of your clit, rolling and adding pressure while his mouth ventures lower, teasing your slit at first before slowly pushing inside.

Oh, how your body sings. Your back arches from the coach and you call out his name, louder this time, turning into a moaning mess as his regard to your cunt never wavers. You then feel the dam filling up at the pit of your stomach and all you can do is buck your hips against his mouth, encouraging—no—pushing him to pull you over the edge.

“Steve—” It’s all you manage to say, your breath catching in your throat.

His actions then become erratic, as if he can feel you teetering towards your peak, pulling you more to his mouth and devouring you whole. Sloppy, wet sounds of his mouth echo from below your waist, Steve letting out a low and guttural growl which only sets you ablaze. His thumb pushes more onto your clit, the pressure digging into your pelvis and finally having the dam at the pit of your abdomen burst.

Your body shakes and you grab onto Steve as your pussy walls flutter from your release, choking a sob as your sweet essence flows out of you. His awaiting mouth then laps each and every drop you offer, the sensation making you shiver yet at the same time cocoons you in euphoric bliss.

The alcohol in your system then appears, mixing with the pleasure that continues to loom around you, and your eyes begin to droop, a smile forming on your lips. Your limbs ache deliciously, cunt buzzing from the orgasm that has taken over. You feel tired all of a sudden but happy at the same time and you forget all, even Steve, as you’re ready to end the night with such a good note.

But a tap on your thigh pulls you from the serene moment, startling slightly to see Steve looking down at you with a grin painted on his face. “Stay awake, Baby.” He says, his hand running up your side and grabbing the hem of your hoodie. “I’m not yet done with you.”

Nervous.

It’s all you feel as you stand outside of Steve’s home—if you could even call it that. With the modern exterior and floor-to-ceiling windows of the one-story home, you’d think you’re about to enter a museum. But it’s only reasonable for him to have such a lavish abode; he is an art collector after all.

“You okay?” You turn your head to the side to face him when he stands beside you, his warmth brushing against your skin as he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you close.

“A bit—but more excited really.” You tell him, the giddiness of seeing his private collection dominating the restlessness you felt earlier.

“Only the people who matter have seen it.” The smile he gives you is so contagious that you give one back and follow him inside his home.

After the night spent at your apartment, your life slowly revolved around Steve. Mornings begin and nights end with him and his attentiveness—one that you found more endearing than suffocating, as what some people you assume would say if they knew of your relationship.

You don’t even know if you both have a relationship as neither of you discussed anything about labels, simply enjoying each other’s company. But you know that Steve has rooted himself deep in you, and you know that no matter how hard you try if anything comes that would sever you both, you’d have a hard time letting him go. Steve is the only one who has truly seen you and accepted you as you are.

A chill brushes your skin when you pass through the threshold of his home which has you pulling your knitted jacket more around your frame for warmth, and the first thing you see are the gallery lights mounted on the wall, with each one shining down on art pieces of different forms. The ones that stand by the door are wax figures of a woman’s pair of legs, one on each side. You look at it closely, the craftsmanship so intricate that you’d think it was real. The ones that come after it are different sets of arms and hands of women, again, each one posed differently and elegantly, as if welcoming you further down the hall.

It gives you pause with how unusual of a collection it is—women’s body parts—but you suppose that the world of art is filled with oddities. There was even one you heard who collects glass eyeballs, not caring if it was worn or not.

What greets you next are several paintings—if you can even call it as such—that litter the wall just the same, though you’ve never seen anything like it; one is of a canvas that houses different strands of hair that form into waves. You’re in awe with how they mimic the raging seas and how detailed and time consuming it must have been to complete. There’s even an image of a boat topped over it, as you inspect closely, you assume is made of leather.

There’s another like it, though this seemed more like a showcase of all types of tresses, spaced out perfectly in rows of five. Each one portrayed a distinct person, with colors ranging from blonde to black and textures from curly to the straightest you’ve seen. The urge to touch it grows strong, wanting to check if they’re real or not.

“They’re real,” Steve answers your unspoken question, and you turn back to face him, feeling shy all of a sudden when you see him staring at you. “I call it live art.”

“You made this?”

“Oh, no.” He smiles as he nears the artwork, Steve’s hands tucked inside his pockets while he looks up at it. “I had it made. Though I did provide the materials—volunteers donated the hair.” His explanation has you thinking; you never knew people would donate something so personal for art. “I’m hoping to add more to the collection—a prized one that can be my center of attention.” He says and you catch him looking at you from your periphery.

“What kind of prized piece?” You ask, curiosity nipping at the back of your head.

“Something I could never get tired of looking at.” The smile he gives you sends a chill up your spine but your mind flows out into a daze when he steps forward and takes your face between his hands, his lips meeting yours in a soft kiss. “Like you.” He whispers and you can’t help but feel your face heat up with how beautiful he makes you feel.

“Come on. There’s more in the living room and I wanted to show you where I would place your painting.” He says, giving you one last kiss before taking your hand and leading further inside. But you don’t miss the piece that sits just at the end of the hall; a torso of a woman, the composition almost similar to Alexndros’ Venus de Milo, except this one was missing its head.

The living room is a sunken living room and it’s just as exquisite as the front of the house with paintings and figurines scattered in an organized fashion. Two couches sit on either side of a low table with a small cart that holds an array of spirits. You look around, mesmerized at the beauty he keeps within but stop when you notice a small greek style column sitting in the corner of the room.

“What’s that?” You ask, pointing at the unusual fixture.

“That’s just a chair a friend of mine made.” He responds while pouring the both of you some drinks. “It’s pretty cozy even if it’s made out of stone. Why don’t you try it out? Pretend you’re an art piece.” He urges and the giddiness you feel allows you to humor him.

Soft jazz music then begins to play as you run your hand against the top, having a feel of the material before you take a seat, grabbing onto the sides to properly set yourself on top of it. The smile you catch on Steve’s face is wide as he approaches you and hands you your drink, his hand reaching up to caress your face.

“You look perfect on it.” He sips on his drink and so do you.

You can’t help but look at his eyes, how soft they look yet full of amidst the muted lighting that surrounds the both of you. You feel his hands continue to linger on your skin, resting gently on your shoulder with his thumb caressing the expanse of your neck.

“Dance with me.”

It’s all he says and you don’t have time to respond when he takes the glass from your grasp, setting both of them on the shelf that stands nearby and he reaches for you, his hands taking yours and placing them over his shoulders while his own finds purchase around your waist.

It feels like you’re walking on clouds with how he sways the both of you, his movements in sync with the music that fills the air. He holds you close, feeling his fingers drumming lightly on your back and how your feet follow him aimlessly, blindly with each step he makes. You’re suddenly aware of the intimacy that slowly winds the both of you, much different from the times he’s slept on your bed, and you feel shy, eyes casting down to stare at the edge of his navy turtleneck.

“Don’t hide from me, Baby,” He breathes softly, tilting your head back when he pinches your chin and feeling the warmth of his breath ghost against your lips. “I want to see you.”

Giddy.

It’s the only feeling you describe as soon as you wake up, your body sore but in a good way and the sheets atop the mattress warm, not just because of you but from the man that sleeps soundly at your side. You turn to face Steve and examine his face, his beautiful pointed nose and his dark hair askew from the pillow underneath his head.

You couldn’t believe your luck that someone like him would find interest in someone like you. You must have done something good in your previous life to feel such happiness that the neglect and disapproval you once received from the people you expected to love you is being provided by someone you’ve barely known for a week.

Good things come to an end, you hear the pessimist in you say but you push it down, deep down where you cannot hear its cry. You’re going to enjoy this, whatever this is, and if time comes that it should indeed come to a stop—well, you’ll cross the bridge when you get there.

You move to cuddle closer to Steve, wanting to feel more of his warmth but it’s interrupted by your need for relief that you settle on placing a kiss on his forehead before turning to leave the bed and find the restroom.

Washing your hands when you finish, you find a robe hanging at the back of the door and boldly take it, putting it around you to shield you from the cold that continues to circulate within the house and venture back to his room—back to Steve’s arms. Except the lone light that shines in the darkness catches your eyes and you glance towards the bedroom. You don’t want to be caught snooping but the call of the void is too strong for you to ignore.

Silently, you pad down the hall and find yourself face to face with a staircase that leads to a closed door. Must be the basement, you think to yourself, taking one step at a time, you descend to your destination. You hesitate to hold the knob, not wanting to spoil your welcome but you soldier on, pushing through the barrier.

A row of yellow muted light illuminates the entryway, and you see nothing but several black barrels neatly pushed against the wall and a few scrubs hanging from mounted hooks. You thought you would see more artwork but are left disappointed, deciding to turn back but the white light at the end of the room stops you, curiosity once more taking over your senses.

Fear then grips you tight when you step into the light, hands flying to your mouth and a gasp unwillingly escaping you when you see a woman laid down on a metal table with her lower half missing and her head free of her scalp. What hangs on the wall makes your stomach turn even further, body parts—arms, legs and a severed head coated in something you can only assume to be wax.

You run. Your heart beats hard against your chest as you make it back again to the door and close it as quietly as you can, not wanting to awaken your host—a monster you never thought him to be. Carefully, though quickly, you climb the steps and the only thing you could think of is to leave and run as far as you can where he cannot find you.

Relief slowly washes over you when you get to the last step. Now all you have to do is go—call the authorities and—your thoughts take a dive when you feel someone grab you by the waist, trapping your arms along with it and a hand covering over your mouth as well as your nose.

“Where were you, Baby?” Steve’s calm voice forms from behind and your panic only rises further. You struggle against his hold, flailing as much as you can for him to let you go but he’s too strong and you feel the tears spill from your eyes as you think that this is the end. He’s caught you. You’re going to die.

“You never should have seen that.” He simply says and you grunt when a stabbing pain forms on your neck, a cool sensation flowing through your veins.

It’s then that he lets you go, your hand flying to where you felt the sting before turning to look at him. What did he do to you? You notice the syringe in his hand. Is it poison? Your vision almost instantly goes blurry, your limbs heavy and you drop to the floor, eyes cast to the ceiling as you try to make out your current state. The last thing you see is Steve, a sinister smile on his face and incoherent words coming from his lips before everything goes dark.

You’re dead.

It’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you come to. Everything slowly comes into clarity; the room you’re in is somewhere you’ve not been and the cool metal you feel around your ankle only solidifies the fact that he’s successfully trapped you in the hell he dwells in.

A door opens and closes and you curl up small on the bed you lay in to hide yourself from him. You’re crying once again a multitude of emotions surge from within—is it fear? Hopelessness? Anger? Towards him for lying to you or to yourself for believing him.

“I never wanted you to find out this way.” He sighs. “I never wanted you to find out at all.”

“Are you going to kill me?” You can’t help but ask, even though you know what the answer is.

“Not yet.” His calm in his voice brings a chill to your spine. “Despite what you believe, I meant what I said; you matter to—”

“Stop lying to me!” You shout and sit up from the bed, grabbing the pillow on the bed and throwing it at him. “Why are you doing this?! What did I do to deserve this?! Why me?!” You shout, the anger that was settling in your bones turns into a raging fire. You go to lunge for him, wanting to rip his skin with your bare hands but the cuff on your foot stops you, making you fall to the ground in front of him.

He tuts and you see his leather shoes in front of you. A groan then leaves your tongue when he grabs you by your face, your hand taking hold of his wrist as you try to pull away from him. But he only pinches tighter, making you shout in pain that fades all too quickly when he shakes you and makes you face him dead in the eyes.

“The more you fight, the harder it’ll be.” He snips. “I enjoy you a lot—don’t make me kill you so soon.”

“Just fucking do it!” You spit. “Do it! Kill me now!”

The laugh he gives you is menacing. He shakes his head, his other hand moving to run his finger on the side of your face. You see the darkness swirling around the sapphires of his eyes and you question yourself why, for the many times he’s stared at you, you’ve never seen it before.

“Soon.” He promises. “For now, I’ll keep you. I don’t mind that column being empty just a little longer.”

#steve kemp #steve kemp x reader #steve kemp x f!reader #dark steve kemp #dark!steve kemp #you #fresh #fresh the movie #sebastian stan characters #dark fic #horror fic #beanie's freaktober fest #freaktober fest #shadeysprings fics

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catslvrr · 4 months

Text

bound 2 (falling in love)

danielle marsh x fem!reader | one shot

Synopsis: Good news: Danielle has agreed to be your pretend girlfriend for Christmas so Haerin can stop extorting you of money. Bad news: Danielle is a bit too good at being a pretend girlfriend.

Contains: suggestive and threatening jokes, cursing, obligatory mistletoe scene

Song: Gingerbread Lover — Ivoris, Chevy

“I’m so screwed,” is what you say as you plop on the booth across from Minji.

She makes no movement to greet you, engrossed in some YouTube video titled ‘How Ceramic Tiles Are Made’. She’s never expressed any interest in tiles nor has any history with tiles, but this is not anything unusual for Minji.

She’s also playing the video at an uncomfortable volume, not necessarily on full speaker, but loud enough that the people on the next table over could hear and possibly be annoyed at.

You start digging into your chicken Caesar salad and smile to yourself in amusement as you spot Minji’s finished plate of it as well.

The two of you made a pact to eat healthier. Issue is, there’s this one dessert place two streets down that makes some bomb biscoff cookies, and you always catch each other there at least once a week. There’s a silent agreement that this does not break the pact.

You both sit in silence for a few more minutes until the video is finished — you eating and Minji watching.

Minji takes a loud sip of her hot chocolate when the video transitions to an obnoxious outro. “You were saying?”

You retell the story to her with a mouth full of food, and there are occasional offtopic segues, as there always are.

To sum it up: Your cousin Haerin is a force of evil and strangely has a good memory. Allegedly, you made a wager with her when you were both nine years old that you would get a girlfriend to bring home for Christmas when you turned eighteen.

And apparently, if you didn’t find one, you would have to pay her a hundred dollars.

Two things strike you as absurd: that younger you somehow thought you would be charming enough to get a girlfriend, and that younger you somehow thought you would have a hundred dollars just lying around to spare.

And for some reason, Haerin decided to never remind you of this wager until, of course, yesterday. You obviously didn’t believe her, but it was kind of hard to argue with Haerin.

Not because she’s good at arguing, but because she just stands there with this look in her eyes that makes you uneasy. So, you didn’t bother questioning her because you know there’s no escaping this fate.

So now, you have just a few days to find a girlfriend, because there was no way you were paying money.

There’s also the matter of pride, too.

“Yeah,” you finish off your monologue. “I texted Hanni if she could be my date, but she just ignored it and sent me some TikTok of a stupid looking dog.”

Minji steals a piece of grilled chicken from you, to which you step on her foot under the table. You pull back your feet in time before she can return the favor. You get a glare instead.

“And Hyein?”

A notification ding stops you before you can speak. You lean forward to look at your phone. “Speaking of Hyein…”

Hyein’s text reads, I think I found someone for you! You two meet at the usual cafe at 12 tomorrow :)

“Okay,” you start. “Good news or bad news first?”

Minji thoughtfully chews on another piece of grilled chicken that she stole. Your plate of salad somehow now sits in the middle of the table instead of right in front of you. “Bad news.”

“Well I want to say the good news first,” you wave the fork in your hand dismissively. You’re pretty sure Minji mumbles “asshole”, but you ignore that as well.

“Good news,” you declare with a smile. “I found a girlfriend.”

Minji is unimpressed.

“Bad news,” you sigh. “I have to talk to said girlfriend who is a stranger.”

She is still unimpressed. “This is why nobody wants you. You don’t talk to anyone outside of us.”

“You don’t get it. It’s part of my mysterious vibe,” you grumble petulantly.

“Well, if you don’t want to socialize like a normal person,” Minji is folding a serviette into some sort of disfigured airplane. “Then consider paying Haerin that one hundred bucks.”

“I would never,” you fold your arms. “And even if I would, I can’t, because I literally only have 76 dollars in my bank account.”

You text Hyein back: you’re the BEST i love u so much xoxoxoxoxo

Minji tries to throw her tissue airplane at you, but it flops unceremoniously into your now empty bowl.

She sighs. “I guess I’m paying for lunch.”

“It’s your turn anyway.”

And that’s the end of the conversation, or at least the conversation concerning your predicament. You both spend the next hour babbling on about recent life updates and rehashing the same old stories over and over again.

“How do I look?”

You have your phone set upright by leaning it on this worn red panda plushie. Its head is permanently twisted after you and Haerin fought for it as kids and ended up ripping it in two, which led to your mom having to stitch it back together. She didn’t do a very good job, clearly.

You see Hanni, or what you think is Hanni, squint at the camera. “Like a bunch of pixels. The connection is so shit that you look like those wendigos from Until Dawn.”

“I’m sure you look fine,” Minji chimes in. This is the first time that she’s spoken since the call started (the call has been going on for half an hour), her camera pointed at her ceiling, and you’re pretty sure she’s half asleep.

“Thanks,” you say. “And I’m pretty sure it’s your WiFi, Hanni.”

You think she’s arguing back, but it’s all a garbled mess, and then the call drops. (It was definitely your WiFi.) You check your appearance one last time before you make your way to the cafe.

The cafe is named “Spill The Beans”, which you find appropriate, because that’s all you ever find yourself doing there. The walk there is a bit long, but the decent prices and good quality make up for it.

Plus, it means that most people would rather go to a cafe that’s closer, so this one has a bit more of a ‘if you know, you know’ vibe to it.

You’re also friends with one of the workers there, and she occasionally sneaks you a free pastry, or even better, gives you gossip about one of the regulars. You smile when you see her signature blonde hair through the window.

The cafe is decorated for Christmas — tinsel stringing on the top and bottom of the windows and cutely drawn candy canes and baubles stuck on the panes. There’s also a cardboard cutout of a snowman holding a coffee cup sitting next to the door. You hear the muffled voice of Mariah Carey.

Your entrance is announced by the light tinkling of the bells. You make your way to the cash register to greet a familiar face.

“It’s beginning to look a latte like Christmas!” Yunjin sings as she twirls clumsily, broomstick in her hand as a microphone. You are forced to stand there and watch this. For some reason, she’s adamant on greeting you with a coffee pun everytime you come in. She has yet to crack a smile from you.

“Stop it,” you groan, scanning the cafe and checking who’s in. There’s only four or five people in right now, most of whom you recognize. She holds the last note, with an unnecessary vibrato, for a few more seconds.

“So,” she leans toward you with an eyebrow raised. “Anything new or interesting you wanna share?”

“Asking for gossip?” You deadpan. “Is that how you take orders now?”

“Just curious,” Yunjin says nonchalantly. “You’re never here alone.”

You give her a scowl. “Don’t act like you don’t know why I’m here.”

There are some things that you can be sure of in life. You know how the saying goes: death, taxes, and Yunjin being all-knowing. She and her little army of spies (spies being her co-workers) are the most nosy people you could ever meet.

You’re pretty sure they consider eavesdropping as their main job, and that the cafe is just a means for them to satisfy their curiosity. (Again, an extremely appropriate cafe name.)

She grins cheekily, dropping her voice to a whisper and tilting her head. “She’s on that table.”

You follow her gaze to the table against the window, where a girl who seems around your age is staring outside like she’s the protagonist of a coming-of-age movie.

Yunjin slides you a slice of a carrot cake and winks. “On the house. Good luck!”

You grab the plate off the counter and slowly make your way toward your future fake girlfriend.

“Hi,” you clear your throat awkwardly as you slip into the seat opposite her. “Danielle, right?”

She enthusiastically nods and smiles. “It’s nice to meet you.”

You slide the plate of carrot cake towards her, to which she gratefully accepts. “Has Hyein filled you in on everything?”

“Hm,” Danielle taps her cheek. “Christmas party, a wager, and me as a fake girlfriend?”

“Sounds about right,” you hum. “Not to be nosy, but is there a reason that you’re doing this? I mean, you’re not getting anything in return.”

“Hyein did say she’d owe me a favor,” she answers with a hint of amusement. “Which I’m sure will come in handy one day. You’re also cute, so it’s a bonus.”

You internally wipe a proud tear. God bless you, Hyein. You make a note to get her something snazzy for Christmas. You were so thankful for Hyein that you didn’t even process the last sentence.

You then realize that you’re just spacing out and probably look a bit crazy, so you quickly clear your throat. “So, we should probably come up with our origin story and all that.”

“We should,” Danielle agrees.

You scratch your nape awkwardly before pulling out a notebook. You have this secret theory that notebooks are a hoax and people just pretend to use them. Which is a bit contradictory for you to say, because you’re using one right now. But you still hold onto that belief.

“So, when did we first meet?”

She seems a bit taken aback by the presence of the notebook, but her face quickly relaxes into a smiling one. “What are your interests? Maybe we share some and that’s how we met.”

“Actually,” you proudly flick to the back of the notebook. “I have prepared for this question.”

It reads: About Me

I like staying indoors

I go to the cafe sometimes

And that cookie place

Cats are cute

“Wow,” Danielle says after surveying your notes. “This is a very… extensive list.”

“Anything that can be used for our story?”

“Let’s just say we met at the cafe,” she decides. You nod in agreement.

“And who approached who first?”

“Definitely me.”

You frown and stop writing. “Why definitely?”

“I mean,” Danielle gestures at you vaguely. “We have to make the story realistic.”

“I hope you mean that because I’m too irresistible, not because I can’t talk to anyone.”

She smiles. “…Right. That’s exactly what I meant.”

“Excellent,” you say, continuing to pen down the story. “So, let’s say about three months ago, give or take, you entered the cafe for the first time. And then you saw me, sitting there all cute and pretty, and you knew you just had to ask for my number.”

“Right…”

“And because I’m never here alone, I’ll just say Minji was in the bathroom. I gave you my number, and then we instantly hit it off.”

“And Minji is…?”

“Oh,” you pause. “She’s a dumbass. Don’t worry about her.”

“Okay,” Danielle says slowly. “And our first date?”

“We’ll get to that in a sec,” you tap your pen. “Tell me about yourself.”

“I,” she heaves out as she bends down to reach into her tote bag. “Have also prepared.”

She slaps a folder on the table that resembles a police case file. You feel a sudden wave of affection crash over you. You immediately open it in anticipation.

It’s an in-depth profile of Danielle. There is the technical stuff, of course: name, date of birth, star sign, MBTI. Then, there’s the ‘favorites’ section: color, animal, season, time of day.

“Oh wow,” you run your fingers over the page. “This is more than I expected.”

You turn the page. There’s a ‘fun facts’ section, although you’re not sure if it’s considered fun. Example: “I once broke a tooth from trying to eat a rock. I also choked on it and my friend had to perform the Heimlich maneuver.”

“Oh wow,” you say again, louder this time, and out of concern more than awe. “Was this when you were a kid?”

“No,” Danielle blinks innocently. “Just last year.”

She is fucking insane. How on earth did Hyein find her?

The last page features results that she got from various UQuizzes, like “what romance trope is meant 4 you?” (ironically, she got fake dating) or “which ‘-core’ aesthetic are you?”

“I’ll make sure to study this when I get home,” you stare at the pages in astonishment.

“Sure,” Danielle smiles. “I was thinking our first date could be at the local arcade.”

A memory of Hanni breaking the buttons and joystick of a fighting game flashes in your mind. The joystick somehow flew and hit a worker in the face. To this day, you still have no idea how it happened.

Regardless, you always look back at the memory fondly, especially because Hanni didn’t even end up winning, despite putting her whole body into smashing the buttons.

“Haerin will know that’s a lie,” you grimace. “I’ve been banned from that place for three years now. Long story.”

She looks curious but continues anyway. “How about a classic dinner?”

“Hm,” you purse your lips. “There’s this amazing Korean restaurant that’s a 10 minute walk from this place.”

“And you’re not banned?”

You laugh and shake your head. “No. They make this amazing jjajangmyeon. I’ll have to take you someday.”

“Sounds good,” Danielle’s eyes twinkle. “I think that’s good enough for now. Anything else I should know?”

“The party is on Christmas day, of course. It’ll just be a dinner and some party games, nothing too serious. After the party, our work is all done!”

“And Haerin,” you hesitate. “She’s nosy. But not in an ‘asking questions’ way, but in a staring way. So we have to act really good if we want her to believe us. Like, a real couple and everything. Like-”

Her laugh cuts you off. “You can say PDA, it’s okay.”

You cough and turn to the side to hide the heat rising in your cheeks, but when you look out the window, you see an odd sight.

Across the street, on a bench, there are two suspicious figures sitting. Suspicious meaning wearing sunglasses, a coat, and a scarf despite it being hot today. Suspicious meaning Minji and Hanni.

No fucking way, you think. Those little fuckers.

“-you okay?” Danielle waves her hand in front of you.

“Huh?” You quickly turn back. “Yeah, it’s nothing.”

“I love physical touch,” she admits, although somewhat shyly. “So I’m okay with hugging and holding hands.”

“Good!” You reply stiffly. “Great. Awesome. All done.”

There’s a mix of confusion, concern, and amusement on her face. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Yes,” you slide your phone across the table before opening her file in front of your face to hide your embarrassment. “Let’s text in between so we get used to talking to each other too.”

The two of you exchange numbers and you watch Danielle leave with a smile and a wave. Minji and Hanni proceed to shuffle inside the cafe, sighing in relief as they take off their ‘disguise’.

“Oh my god,” Hanni whines, resting her cheek on your outstretched palm. “I thought I was gonna die outside.”

You retract your hand in disgust, but not before flicking her forehead. “You’re sweaty. And you deserve it.”

“So how did it go?”

You recount everything that happens. Minji makes you pay for her lunch. You now have 46 dollars in your bank account.

When you get home, you hug your red panda plushie and turn on your phone to see a text from Danielle. You spend the next few days talking to her, your feet kicking in the air and a stupid smile on your face.

The day of the Christmas party has arrived. It’s due to start at six in the evening, and exactly three hours before that, Haerin sends you nothing but an ominous text: I will be awaiting you and your girlfriend’s arrival.

You roll out of bed and get ready in the morning, and read through Danielle’s file one last time. You’ve annotated it, adding sticky notes and highlighting it, which is more work than you’ve done for the entirety of university so far.

You make sure to put the matching reindeer headbands that Danielle suggested on before leaving. You drive to pick her up and you try not to weigh the meaning of the warmth blooming in your chest as you see her.

“Hi girlfriend,” Danielle puffs her cheeks out and smiles as she gets in the car. It’s awfully cute.

“Hey.”

“Before I forget,” you reach over into the glove compartment to grab a little box. “I got you a Christmas present.”

Danielle gasps, eyes shining as she opens the box. It’s a gold necklace with a sun pendant. You remember her eyeing it when you went out to the mall.

You don’t expect her to laugh. “What’s so funny?”

She also takes out a little box from her pocket. “I also got you a present.”

God, she even prepared it with a nice ribbon. You unwrap it to find a silver bracelet with a moon pendant. You think you’re a tiny bit delusional for thinking that you two were meant to be, but you let yourself live in this fantasy just for today.

“Oh my god,” you grin. “We’re matching now.”

The both of you put on your respective gifts before you start the car. You instinctively pass her your phone to pick a song. Of course, she puts on Christmas music. You glance at her as she takes out her crochet supplies.

“What are you working on?”

“Nothing much,” Danielle says. “Just a little cat to add to your car. It’s kind of plain.”

Her thoughtfulness makes you feel an out-of-body experience where you want to scream your lungs out and melt into a gay puddle.

You manage to get out one word. “Cool.”

The two of you pass the time by quizzing each other and ironing out the fine details of your ‘relationship’. And belting your hearts out to Christmas songs.

The drive is only an hour or so, and there’s a tender feeling encompassing you as you truly realize that it’s Christmas. Spending time with family is always nice. Receiving presents is too.

You only see Haerin a few times a year, and Christmas is one of them. Despite your bickering and her foreboding aura, she’s still somewhat endearing.

Danielle looks out the window in excitement as you draw closer to Haerin’s house. There’s a large blow-up Santa set up on the lawn that they reuse every year, and a bunch of other generic Christmas decorations.

You can already spot Haerin in the window of the house staring at your car.

Pretending to check your phone, you mutter, “She’s watching us. Let me open the car door for you.”

Danielle only responds with a giggle. You dash outside the car in record time, open the back to get your cookies and presents, and open the car door for her, as planned.

She surprises you with a kiss on the cheek. You’re sputtering and blushing, and she has to drag you toward the house (and lock the car for you).

By the time you come to your senses again, Haerin has vanished.

You heave out a long exhale and your gaze flickers to Danielle. You find that her eyes are already on you. If there was a person who could embody the joy and comfort that Christmas brings, you think that it would be the girl in front of you right now.

“You ready?”

Danielle brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. For a second, you indulge yourself in the yearning of your heart and pretend that this is all real.

“Of course.”

Inside the house is chaotic as always. Everyone’s rushing to finish wrapping gifts, preparing the food, putting plates and cutlery on the table, setting up the TV to play Mario Kart, the usual.

You take Danielle around to introduce her to everyone, and you feel slightly guilty as everyone fawns over her. Haerin is the last person you find.

“Haerin,” you say. She nods in acknowledgment. “This is my girlfriend, Danielle. Danielle, my cousin Haerin.”

“Nice to meet you,” Danielle gushes, letting go of your hand to hug her. “I’ve heard so many stories about the two of you and your adventures.”

“Don’t trust those stories,” Haerin says. “She probably changed it to make her look better.”

You whip your head around. “What the f-”

Danielle winks. “Don’t worry. I know how much of a loser she is.”

You take a deep breath in and force a smile. You must maintain the jolly Christmas spirit.

Haerin gives Danielle a once over before nodding mysteriously. She then stalks off to who knows where. Danielle looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

You pat her shoulder. “That’s a good sign.”

“That felt surprisingly easy…”

“Oh no,” you laugh. “We’re just getting started. They’re going to try separate us-”

With perfect timing, you hear your name being called before you’re dragged into the kitchen.

“Be a dear and help us with the food,” your mom says kindly. (You know this is a facade.) You accept your fate and place down the cookies before starting to cut the vegetables for the turkey.

You try to keep an eye on Danielle, who’s now putting ornaments on the Christmas tree with your other relatives.

The Christmas tree has been around since you were a baby, and if you look closely, there's pieces at the back that is slightly charred. Haerin pushed you, you tripped on your own feet, crashed into the tree, and it fell into the fireplace. Alarms went off, neighbors left the house in a panic, the firefighters were called… it was bad.

You strain your ears and try to hear what questions your family are asking Danielle right now, and you hope it’s nothing too over-the-top or personal. She seems to be taking it well though. Your aunt keeps bringing you new things to do and speaking loudly in an attempt to distract you.

“First girlfriend, huh?” Your mom nudges you with her shoulder.

“Yeah,” you laugh awkwardly. “I’m so lucky, right?”

“She seems good for you.”

You pause your chopping. “It’s only been five minutes, Mom.”

There’s a gleam in her eyes. “That’s all I need. And you finally have a reason to go outside for once.”

You roll your eyes and continue chopping. Your aunt comes in at one point, and together, the two of them grill you about the details of your relationship. The words fall out of your mouth just as you rehearsed.

It’s around half an hour later when you’re finally reunited. The dinner is delicious, as always, and it all feels so good.

The light squeezes on your arm, resting her hand on your thigh under the table, making sure you get the crunchy potatoes because that’s your favorite — it feels so good.

And none of this is real, but as you listen to Danielle bantering with your family, your feelings start to feel more real.

The realization sets your heart aflame, just like the fireplace once did to the Christmas tree.

You’re leaning on the kitchen counter, nursing a can of Sprite as you watch Danielle squeal over Mario Kart (she just got hit by a red shell).

Haerin joins you. She doesn’t announce her entrance but you can sense her presence.

“No money for you,” you smirk.

“No. I guess not.”

Hell yeah. Your bank account is safe. “What do you think of her?”

“She seems too nice for you.”

You elbow her ribs. “Be nice. It’s Christmas.”

“…I’m happy for you.”

“Oh Haerin,” you muster up a sweet voice and open your arms out for a hug. She grabs a knife and holds it in front of her. Nevermind. You take multiple steps backwards.

The race is over, and Danielle finishes in a whopping seventh place. She turns around and looks for you, and smiles when your gazes lock.

You tilt your head, and she tilts her head back in response.

“I’ll be back,” you slither out of the kitchen. “The girlfriend calls.”

You think you hear Haerin scoff but you’re too busy focusing on Danielle. “Did you need something?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Oh,” you cough. “Sorry, I’ll show you the way.”

You try not to stumble as you hear someone call out “don’t run off and make out!” Thankfully, Danielle takes it well and isn’t weirded out.

You’re unsure if it’s weird to wait outside, but you do it anyway (from a respectable distance) in case she needs anything. When she’s done with her business, the two of you make your way back to the living room, and your worst nightmare (but also a dream deep down) comes true.

Haerin is standing there, with her stupid mischievous smile and Rudolph’s nose on, holding some DIY fishing rod. At the top of that rod hangs a mistletoe.

“Haerin,” you hiss. “Put that down.”

She closes her eyes and pretends she doesn’t hear you. It’s like everyone’s telepathic, because suddenly everyone has their attention turned to you, and they’re egging you on.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

This cannot be real, you think. This is some skit or a sick joke.

You turn to Danielle awkwardly.

“A cheek kiss will be enough,” you say apologetically. “We don’t have to-”

She cuts you off with a kiss — a chaste one, but it shocks you nonetheless. You can barely hear the cheers of your family over the pounding of your heartbeat.

Haerin eventually brings you back to Earth by smacking your face with the rod, and everyone’s back to doing whatever they’re doing.

“Sorry,” you see Danielle’s worried face as your vision starts to refocus. “Was that too much?”

“No,” you blurt out. “I’m sorry. Because I actually like you but I just realized that twenty minutes ago and I have to tell you now because I don’t want you to think that I’m using you-”

“I know,” she laughs, grabbing your hand to squeeze. “Me too.”

You blink. “Oh. Cool.”

“…So we’re real girlfriends, right?”

“Yes,” she pokes your nose. “We are.”

“Awesome! Because I was going to ask you to be my fake girlfriend again for New Year’s.”

She rolls her eyes and pulls you back to the living room, and you finally understand, for the first time, all the cheesy Christmas songs.

God bless you, Hyein.

#newjeans x reader #newjeans fanfic #newjeans fic #danielle marsh x reader #mo jihye x reader

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i-write-sometimes-maybe · 8 months

Text

Celebration- Lady Lesso X NeverFem!Reader (NSFW)

Synopsis: It was a night of many celebrations.

Warnings: SMUT. Alcohol consumption, kinda bratty bottom!reader, top!Lesso, some book descriptions, blindfolds, toys (vibe), denial, overstimulation, fingering, oral, biting, tears, tribbing w/toy, allusions to choking but not really, gets emotional at the end.

Word Count: 6.8k

A/n: Okay if I’m being totally honest, this kinda drags on (not in a bad way) because I have been lacking with motivation for smut, but it makes it’s incredibly intimate, so I’m not entirely complaining. I’ve been wanting to get this out FOR-EVER. Like longer than it should’ve taken. ENJOY 🥰🫶🏻

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

It was a celebration of sorts. The staff was celebrating many things. Goodness prevailed, Rafal had fallen, the schools had joined, and Sophie and Agatha had returned to Gavaldon.

In all fairness, you did enjoy having those girls at the schools, not to get you wrong, but you were more than pleased to not have any antics started by Sophie anymore.

As a Never professor, you should've enjoyed it, but seeing the strain it put on your Dean, it wasn't enjoyable at all.

Lady Lesso had to deal with the newest reader starting things and challenging her, while she also had to deal with her past not only being brought up again but reoccurring.

Because of this, Lesso was not herself. A little rougher with everyone, that part you did enjoy, but there was something hidden within her. And you wanted to know what it was, you wanted to comfort it out of her. To be the one holding her while she sobbed like you knew she desperately needed to.

The triumph of that is what Lesso was celebrating currently. She would've been more angry with Good winning, once again, but she couldn't bring herself to care after all these past few events she had to go through, again. Something about watching it happen to another, hardly able to do anything about it, was almost worse. Almost.

Dovey, on the other hand, was tipsy off of her one drink and bragging about the already-known information to everyone, all the Ever and Never professors. No one cares that Good won again, you merely rolled your eyes.

You desperately wanted to down a few drinks. Not necessarily to get drunk, you were no light-weight, but enough to make this little 'celebration' fun. But instead, you were just standing off to the side, people-watching as your first shot went un-sipped and warming in your hand.

And by people-watching, you were watching one person. Watching how Lesso smoothly drank her clean whiskey on the rocks, downing it a little sooner than she probably should. You wouldn't admit just how impressed you were with the way she handled her alcohol, downing each drink and acting as if she was drinking mere water.

You hid your slight panic when Lesso made eye contact with you. Her eyes darting to the glass in your hand and back to your eyes with a single eyebrow raised.

How'd she know that you haven't drunk anything yet tonight? Was she watching you the same way you were her? You didn't think you were being that obvious.

It was now or never.

Instead of making a fool of yourself, trying to come up with an excuse, you decided to just drink it. You weren't a giggly drunk, or a mean drunk, or the runaway drunk. No no, what you were was almost worse, at least according to you.

You raised your glass in her direction, feigning a toast, and downing it in an instant. You didn't quite catch how Lesso observed each move of yours as you downed the liquid, watching as a droplet of liquor dribbled from your chin and down your exposed chest, all thanks to the low-cut dress you decided on.

How you didn't notice her eyes glued onto you as you took one of your fingers and swiped up the alcohol from your breasts and delicately sucked it clean in a moment, she'll never know.

It was almost instantaneous, the moment the alcohol hit. It didn't make you dizzy or nauseous, no, it made you unbelievably horny. You still had your entire self-control, that wasn't the problem. You weren't a handsy drunk, you were simply a horny drunk. Not even a horny drunk, seeing as it happens with just one drink.

You couldn't tell if the immediate flush on your cheeks was from the alcohol, embarrassment, horniness, or the way Lesso was still looking at you.

It was probably the combination of all of them.

You set the shot glass down and tried to look away, knowing that if you kept looking at her or if you had another drink, it wouldn't help your situation.

The liquor went straight to your center the moment the liquid went into your stomach. An almost uncomfortable heat starts between your legs and spreading everywhere else.

This really wasn't the time or place for this, there was a reason you only drank in your quarters or why you quickly left when you did drink.

You tried to not think about your predicament, to not think about Lesso, but that was proven impossible as she made her way in front of you. Little did you know, your sudden uncomfortable shifting was obvious.

"Is there a problem, darling?" At first, Lesso was truly a little concerned but it shifted into something more when she noticed your thighs squeezing together at the pet name.

"Oh, not at all, I'm all good. Just, trying to make some fun with this so-called 'party'."

Her signature smirk appeared on her face, "I can help with that."

With a pulse sent to your already aching pussy, you would've sworn it was the alcohol. But you only had one shot, no way were you already imagining things. You can handle your liquor better than that.

"Wha-?" You thought that maybe neither of you was thinking straight, but that was quickly disproven too.

She leaned closer to your ear, not helping your issue in the slightest of ways, "I can help you with your little... situation."

A low chuckle emitted from her when your thighs squeezed again accompanied by an almost undetectable thrust of your hips, almost.

You smirked as well, seeing her smirk and hearing the melodious chuckle, reaching out to grab the lapel of her blazer and pulling her even closer to you, "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"Oh my pet, I intend to keep it." She pulled back to look at you once again, matching lustful looks on both of your faces.

Silent words were exchanged as she just grabbed your hand. Of course, you allowed her to pull you from the ever-dying celebration.

The walk back to her quarters was unbearably long. The remnants of your self-control had snapped once her door was closed.

You reached out for Lesso's tie again, this time wrapping it around your hand before using it as leverage to pull her closer to you. Your confidence increased tenfold when you saw how her pupils increased from your little action.

Lesso decided that the time you took to examine her sultry eyes was too long, no longer wasting time she pulled you into a bruising kiss.

You could tell with the way her lips moved on yours that she had been wanting this too, for at least as long as you have.

A breathy moan was immediately consumed by the redhead as soon as it escaped your throat, all due to Lesso biting down on your bottom lip, the action causing the wet spot in your panties to grow even more.

Lesso moved you back, pressing you against the wall, and placed her hand by your head, effectively pinning you to your spot, though you had no desire to leave.

She pulled back from you just enough to get a quick look at your now-flushed face, "My beautiful pet."

Before you could even think of some sort of response, she reattached her lips to your jaw, slowly moving them down toward your neck.

You wanted to whine at the speed she was moving but your excitement and the anticipation unknowingly stopped you.

You need to feel her, to have her against you, persuaded your actions as you reached out to hold onto her waist, just to have her as close as possible to you.

The closeness you two were currently sharing wasn't enough, you needed more of her. Just as her lips had made their way to the nape of your neck, you began pulling the blazer off her shoulders. A chuckle came from her at your eagerness, but all you could think of was that you wanted to feel more of her.

It was driving you mad.

When Lesso pulled away from you to drop the blazer, you allowed an audible whine to escape. Her deep amethyst eyes were looking into yours, causing you to get lost for a moment.

"Tell me what you want," She spoke softly, her tone sending chills across your skin.

You tugged her waist further against you, "More," You were beginning to be breathless, the anticipation becoming overwhelming.

"Tell me exactly." She continued to pry.

You bit back your desperate sigh, knowing that none of your noises would sway her into simply giving in to you. No matter how much she loved hearing them, or how badly she wanted to hear more. No matter how badly she already wanted you.

"I want to feel you. I want you to touch every part of me, make me fall apart. Make me yours." Your last statement was a mere whisper as you moved your lips to rest near her ears.

She may be the one who's currently in control, but she can't rid you of your confidence. Not that she'd ever want to.

She hummed, the same torturous smirk coming to her face, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you've imagined this unfolding before?" It wasn't a question, you knew that.

You tilted your head, "Well, do you?"

"Do I what?"

You smirked this time, "Know better?" Gods, the things she was going to do to you.

Her smirk turned nearly sadistic as she stayed unmoving, you began to fear maybe you crossed a line but that thought was diminished as she reached behind you to slowly unzip your dress.

You wanted to complain about the speed she was pulling the zip, knowing you could've been bare before her eyes with magic, but something about the way she looked into your eyes as she was doing it was oddly intimate. Yeah, you definitely weren't complaining.

Nothing about her wavered as she moved to pull the straps off your shoulders, the chill in the room finally running through you. But it was her touch that sent a shiver down your spine, the anticipation beginning to be overwhelming.

The dress fell off your torso with ease but caught on your waist. The dress, luckily, wasn't too fitted so with a little bit of your help it quickly fell the rest of the way to the floor.

Lesso wouldn't admit just how at a loss for words she was when she saw you, her throat going dry yet her mouth watered with her desires.

A few of your insecurities rose forward as she stayed unmoving, still staring at you, but all of your worries diminished when she spoke.

"You, are absolutely stunning," Butterflies filled your stomach with just how breathless she spoke those words.

You were left standing in a sheer black-lace bra, with matching panties, leaving not a single thing to the imagination.

"It's your turn, I think it's only fair." Your voice was just above a whisper, knowing that if you were any louder your voice would likely waver.

She played into it, leaning back slightly to watch you as your eyes raked over her. You couldn't decide what you wanted off of her first, you knew you wanted it all off. You decided on the vest, mainly cause that was the next thing standing between you and her bare skin.

You looked directly into her eyes as you popped one, two, and then the third and final button of the vest. You continued to watch as Lesso pulled it off her shoulders and let the garment drop to the floor next to her blazer.

Just as her hands went to the bottom of her button-up, you stopped her with your hands on hers.

"Wait! Let me, please let me." With a smirk, Lesso released the fabric, moving her hands back to the wall beside your head.

You pulled her closer to you with the loops on her trousers before untucking the shirt. Your eyes couldn't leave your hands as you watched, slowly more of her perfect body and porcelain skin was revealed. You could feel the anticipation making your head spin. But as your eyes remained on your task, Lesso's eyes stayed on you.

She loved how she could see the desire within them, the desire for her. Never, not once, has she ever felt more wanted than she has with you. You may not have realized it, but she noticed every single glance you threw her way, how could she not?

You still couldn't tear your eyes away from her, even once the the shirt was fully open, your eyes roamed across every part of her. A part of you was not at all surprised that she chose to abandon the common bra and go with the more comfortable sports bra.

A small smile formed on your lips as you noticed freckles on her chest, and a few peeking out from under the button-up on her shoulders, that was another thing that you didn't notice Lesso saw.

Lesso was taken by surprise as you swiftly pulled her flush against you, you wanted to feel her against you too bad to wait any longer. Taking advantage of this new position, you started leaving kisses on Lesso's neck, the sensation causing a hum to come from her. Chills had erupted across your skin, and unknown to you, across Lesso's as well, as you finally felt how perfect her skin felt on you.

You craved to hear all of the other noises she could make, that you could cause. And once you stepped out of your dress, you knew that Lesso gave in to her cravings as well.

She was no longer wasting time as she pulled you across the room to the awaiting bed, still perfectly made. That is, until Lesso's knees came into contact with the edge of the bed, prompting her to sit down. Her hands slowly ran up your sides as you moved to straddle her.

Though neither of you noticed, nor cared enough in the moment to pay attention to it, you knew that from this point forward neither of you would be able to go without one another. The addictive touch she laid against your sensitive skin, the chills she erupted just by the ghosting of her breath, you wouldn't be able to go without it now that you're aware of how thrilling it is.

Just as her lips came back to your neck, your arms involuntarily wrapped around her own neck to pull her closer against you, the feeling of her suckling your skin to leave a mark caused a breathy moan to escape you.

And boy, did that moan just snap the last remaining control Lesso had. In a blink, she had switched positions to where you were laid against her bed, hair sprawled out on the duvet and face beginning to flush, that was a scene she'd devote to memory.

"Gods, the things I'd do to you." Her eyes roamed over you once more.

It had been a hefty moment since you said something smart in return, you tsked, "You keep making promises, but I've yet to see results."

Lesso's eyes shot to yours at your audacity, only to see your eyes blown with lust. She'd be lying if she said this didn't have any effect on her.

"Oh, pet. We've only just begun."

You wrapped your legs around her waist, the slight friction was enough to make your breath hitch, gods you were so fucking desperate, "You're still wearing more clothes than me." You quirked your eyebrow, watching as a smirk slowly came to her face.

Instead of simply untangling you from her, she pushed your legs further up her waist. You had a slight pout when you realized it was your body that was obstructing your view of her unbuttoning her trousers and sliding them off. But your pout didn't last too much longer, not once you began to feel more of her soft skin against yours.

You had to fight back any possible sounds that you could've released as you saw her crawl back up you after releasing your legs from her, the way she did so was almost primal, stopping just at chest level. Your eyes could help but flutter a bit once you felt the warmth of her trailing kisses all across your chest.

Your hands instantly came up to her head, entangling in her fiery locks as she startled suckling on a spot just below your collarbone. A hum involuntarily came from you as you felt her hand roam up your side.

Just as her lips started trailing further down your chest, her free hand moved to your hip to steady herself. The moment she squeezed your hip was the moment she nipped the exposed top of your breast, just peaking from the top of your bra. The sensation was soft yet intense enough to make your head spin.

The near-silent whimper and tightening of your grip on her hair certainly didn't go unnoticed by the Dean.

"Pet, if you want something, you need to speak." You practically felt her words on your skin as she just barely lifted herself from you.

You took a stuttering breath, anticipation taking over your thoughts, "Gods, please, I need more,"

"Mmm, very good," She left one final nip to your skin before pulling back.

Lesso adored how much you were squirming, but she could tell you were trying to keep yourself from moving too much. And she unknowingly made it her mission to see just how much she can make you squirm, after all, she's just barely touched you.

She finally reached behind you for the clasp of your bra, able to do so with your back being slightly arched in attempts for more contact. The moment your breasts were freed, Lesso was transfixed. She would've taken longer to admire how the cold air caused your nipples to nearly instantly harden, but her desire to finally taste you was too strong.

She quickly decided that she was done wasting time, that she would take her tastes and bites with pleasure, hoping to soon see you fall apart. Sure, it was your pleasure, but it was her selfish need to watch her cause it. To hear you call her name as you finally come on her fingers and tongue.

A small moan left your lips the moment you felt her lips wrap around your left nipple, the sound becoming slightly louder as you felt her tongue swipe over the sensitive bud. Your hand moved to her waist, pulling her weight on top of you. Lesso didn't mind too much as it allowed her greedily to feel more of you.

You could feel your arousal becoming increasingly harder to ignore, and you just knew that you had long soaked your panties. Lesso had switched to your other nipple, knowing that she couldn't go without giving attention to both.

Lesso moved to the valley between your breasts, leaving a mark and starting a trail down to your navel. While this would've been plenty to make you even more desperate, her hands moved to where your thighs met your cunt, yet she never quite reached where you wanted her.

"Fuck! Leo, please!" Tears of frustration were starting to arise, "No more teasing!"

Something else ignited within the redhead at hearing the breathless whisper of her name.

"Say it again, say my name again."

"Please, Leo,"

She smirked, "Oh, how I love my name sounds coming from your desperate mouth." She nipped your hip, before pulling back and looking at you.

You thought you were going to get another remark or even some more teasing, but you were pleased to see and feel as she curled her fingers under the waistline of your panties and pulled them down your thighs, practically ripping them off past your knees and tossing them off to the side.

Lesso nearly moaned herself at the sight of you being completely soaked.

"It's all for you," You spoke breathlessly, watching how Lesso licked her lips before staring directly into your eyes.

"Oh pet, it better be all for me,"

You smirked at her tone, "Uh huh, and what if it wasn't?"

She got up to her knees and gripped your thighs, yanking you down the bed, you were nearly eye-level with her. The look on her face almost made you want to take it back.

"I'll show you." Your stomach filled with nervousness and excitement at that statement.

Before you could even realize, in the time of a blink, she was back between your legs. She swiftly pried your legs apart and pulled one over her shoulder.

It's like with your words, she had to prove you wrong. That she knew she'd have to ruin anyone else for you, anyone else but her. But she didn't have to try that hard, you didn't even think of anyone else but her already.

Your head fell back against the bed at the first swipe of her tongue, gods you were so fucking desperate.

A whole moan finally left your lips and your hands flew to Lesso's hair as she started devouring you as if you were her last meal for the next millennia. Her hands were wrapped around you and laid against your hips, her grip unrelenting and you knew you'd have marks to remember this time for days to come. Not like you were complaining.

Her tongue was expertly gliding over your clit, as if it already knew all of the spots that caused you to squirm. The suction and swirling combination she did stole the breath from your lungs.

"Fuck! Don't stop!" Your back arched further off the bed and Lesso could feel your pathetic attempt to close your thighs, it was blatantly obvious you were so close to your orgasm.

That blissful orgasm that you knew only Lesso would be able to bring. The very same orgasm she ripped from you as she stopped her ministrations.

You whined, tears of frustration brimming your eyes, "Fuck! Why?!"

"All for me, right?"

Your pleasure-clouded mind wasn't thinking straight, "What?!" Your back collapsed against the bed, your eyes searching hers for an answer before she spoke.

"Tell me, it's all for me. Tell me, that this pretty pussy only gets soaked for me. Tell me that you're all mine." She was looking square at you, her eyes going more dark with each word she spoke.

"Yes! It's for you!" She responded with a bite to your inner thigh, and a wince escaped you.

"Not good enough. Again."

"It's all for you, always for you," You paused to think about the words she said. "This pussy is yours. I'm yours."

A pleased smirk graced her face and she returned to your throbbing cunt again, she could taste your desperation, but she couldn't wait to taste your come.

Her tongue was swirling around your clit like it previously had, slowly building up your peak once more.

Just as your fingers threaded through her fiery hair again, her fingers started tracing your entrance.

"Please! More!" She didn't have to be told twice.

Two fingers instantly slipped into your pussy, all thanks to you being completely soaked. Lesso had never heard a more delicious sound before than at this moment. She couldn't find it within her to do anything that would potentially stop you from making more of those sounds.

She started thrusting her fingers at a generous speed, never ceasing her actions on your clit. Gods know you were nearly seeing white as she did so. One of your hands began fisting the sheets beside you, and you would've sworn you had torn them.

"Yes, Leo!" Your moans were motivation enough to keep her going, to ignore the strain of her jaw and tongue and ignore any possible burn in her forearm.

She had begun curling her fingers, instantly hitting the right spot within. And after a few brief moments, she could feel your thighs begin to quiver under her.

Just as you were about to voice your impending orgasm was about to arrive, she stopped. She didn't ease out of it, she pulled back.

The tears had finally fallen, "No! Fuck! Come on, please let me come!" You begged.

You begging with tears down your face was now Lesso's favorite thing.

"I told you, we've only just begun."

It may have only just started, but damn did you want to come. You still couldn't squeeze your thighs to relieve some of the desperation as her grip on your thighs hadn't eased.

You knew that what you were about to say would get you your way, "Please, I wanna come. I wanna come for you."

Lesso's eyes would've darkened more at that sentence if it was possible, you saw as she tried to bite back another smirk as she swallowed. You saw her head turn back to your thigh and you knew you had won as her tongue peeked out to taste your mid-thigh, trailing up back to your dripping cunt.

She resumed once again, continuing to swirl the tip of her tongue over your clit. You hoped that this would finally be it, that this would be when she finally let you come. You knew that this would be the hardest you've come in a while, if ever.

Your moans hadn't ceased since she returned to your needy pussy, and they only got louder as she inserted her fingers again. She was unforgiving in the way she wasted no time to gradually speed up her fingers, instantly going the pace and curling her fingers the same way that swiftly brought you to your near high earlier.

And just like before, it didn't take too long for you to get close once again. Your neediness with her speed and skill caused you to return to the edge of your orgasm quickly.

"I'm gonna come, please don't stop! I wanna come for you!" Your words were beyond rushed, hoping she wouldn't deny you again. Your grip on her hair became stronger, just as the shaking in your legs did.

Lesso did nothing this time but hum. You took that as her approval, that and the fact that she didn't pull away or stop again. You bit onto your bottom lip as your body tensed, though you quickly released it as you finally came with a curse and Lesso's name. Your orgasm hit you harder than a tsunami would meet land.

"Oh, fuck, Leo!" Your back finally had a chance to relax as your body fell flush against the bed.

Lesso slowly stopped her actions, allowing you a moment to calm yourself without stopping the pleasure too suddenly.

She started leaving more love bites along your inner thighs before she pulled back and looked at you.

"Do you trust me?"

It took you a moment to catch your breath, "What? Why?"

"Do you, trust me?" She annunciated.

"Yes, I do."

"Excellent." She said nothing else but summoned a black silk tie, which you assumed was one of the ones she frequently adorned. "This will go over your eyes," Excitement distracted your neediness.

"Say 'red' and I stop, got it?" She crawled up your body, moving to straddle your waist and you took a moment to steal a glance of her perfect body.

"Got it." She smiled and reached down, setting the tie over your eyes.

Soon, your vision went black. You felt her tie the tie behind your head and you couldn't wait to see what she would do next.

But she got up. You wondered if she was simply standing, observing your needy and pathetic self squirming on her bed all sprawled out and waiting for her. But you heard the sound of a drawer sliding open, you tried your best to hear any other clues as to what was about to take place but it was nearly silent.

Suddenly after a few moments, you felt her hands roam across your body. Slowly her hands worked their way from your thighs to your hips, up to your chest where they only stayed on your breast for a moment, much to your displeasure. Her hands continued up until one of them lightly wrapped around your throat. Only the slightest of pressure was added, but Lesso was beyond pleased to hear a whimper come from you at that action.

Her hand stayed in its place, the pressure in which it was wrapped around you increased slightly as you realized she was beginning to straddle you again. You registered that in the moment she was gone, she stripped the rest of the way as you felt her own wetness come into contact with your lower stomach.

"So beautiful," She whispered for the second time this night.

Her hand moved from your throat as she moved to be kneeling between your legs, but it didn't land anywhere else on you. You strained your ears to hear any hints and what she could have been doing.

But, you didn't have to strain too hard before you heard the start of a buzz, and you knew what was to come. But the idea of Lesso having one came to mind, the idea of Lesso bare on her bed using one caused a whimper to come from you and wetness to start dripping down your thighs.

"Oh, god!" You nearly screamed as the vibrator was pressed against your sensitive clit.

The vibrator brought you back to your high nearly instantly, all thanks to it being on full power and you being incredibly sensitive and desperate. You knew you couldn't take it if she took this orgasm from you again.

"Oh, fuck!" Your back arched to the point where your neck wasn't in contact with the bed any longer. "Please don't stop, I'm so close!"

"I'm not going to stop," Her eyes raked over you, loving how a layer of sweat adorned your perfectly heated skin. "If you're going to come, come."

With her near demand and the continuous stimulation, you couldn't resist. You screamed her name as you saw white. You tried searching for her to hold onto, but in the half second you tried and failed you simply relented to grip the sheets once more.

You couldn't catch your breath, the vibrator still being firmly pressed against your abused clit no matter how much your hips bucked at the stimulation.

"I-I can't-"

"I told you, I'm not going to stop." You didn't see it, but you could hear the smirk in her voice.

One hand stayed attached to the sheets but your other reached down in attempts to shun the friction from your cunt, just to give you a moment to breathe. But Lesso's free hand grabbed your wrist and moved your hand above your head.

"That stays there." Her time left no room to argue.

The vibrator stayed on your swollen clit, your thighs began to shake again but this time, not from denial. You felt Lesso grab one of your legs and move it atop hers and her other leg swung over you. It took you a moment but once you heard a delicious moan of her own, you finally pieced together the position you were now in, both of your hips were nearly connected.

Lesso couldn't ignore her own need anymore, she had moved you around her so she could have access to the vibrator too. And the mental image of this position, her between your legs and the vibrator pressed against both of your clits, just pushed you that much closer to the edge.

"Leo, I-I'm close again!" You were surprised that words managed to come out as you were so breathless.

Another moan came from the redhead, seeing your orgasm is one thing but this one, she'll get to feel it too, "Wait, wait for me."

And oh dear gods did that single sentence give you the willpower to hold off long enough so that you would get to come with her. You realized with this willpower came overwhelming pained pleasure.

Lesso was getting close to her own orgasm, rocking her hips into the vibrator. Each increase in pressure almost sent you over the edge but you'd be damned if you didn't get to come with her.

"You ready, pet?"

"Yes! Yes! I wanna come with you!"

"Go on, come pet," She was breathless too.

"Oh shit!" Your legs shook a bit harder and your hips bucked again.

That buck being the final push to send Lesso over the edge too. Your name falling from her lips luckily didn't go unnoticed by you, even in your near-blacked-out state.

You tiredly attempted to pull yourself up the bed, "Can't. Too much." You tried to speak, but your voice and body were weak.

Your body still had residual shakes as you heard the vibrator shut off and as the blindfold was removed.

You felt the bed beside you dip and you processed that Lesso was hovering over you. You looked at the care-filled face of the Dean for a moment before trying to focus on catching a breath.

You felt her hands come to your thighs, but before you could protest anymore for the night, her hands began massaging your twitching thighs.

There was a comforting silence that was shared between the two of you for a moment, Lesso still opting to bring sensation back to your legs.

You were finally starting to come back, you realized as your thoughts became more clear. And she realized too as your eyes began to look around more and lose their clouded appearance.

"How are you feeling?" Her soft voice was just above a whisper.

You looked from the side to her, seeing concern laced in her features, "I'm feeling damn good if I'm being honest."

She couldn't help but chuckle at that, knowing you had finally come back to her.

"Good, I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere." She added as she stood off the bed.

"Don't think I could if I wanted to." You simply responded, earning laughter from the Dean.

She was very much aware that you likely wouldn't be able to move, which is precisely why she got up to get the rag to clean you up with.

She returned with a damp cloth, wiping your sweat-covered face and chest before moving between your legs. The events left a mess all over your thighs, nearly to your knees, which is a first for you. Again, not like you were complaining. Lesso abruptly looked at your face when you winced the moment the cloth came into contact with your beyond-sensitive clit.

Lesso got rid of the cloth, still looking to find something that may soothe you.

"Are you thirsty? Would you like something to eat?" You smiled as she pushed some of your hair away from your face.

"I'm all good, I'd rather be close with you if you don't mind?"

"Of course, I don't mind," She said as she got back on the bed beside you. "We will have to shower tomorrow at least, we absolutely smell of sex."

You chuckled this time, "All thanks to you."

Lesso only had a playful eye roll as a response. You shuffled closer to her, wrapping your arm around her waist. You both still enjoyed the feeling of each other's skin on your own.

The moment was calm, neither of you quite ready for sleep as energy surprisingly still coursed through your veins. You delicately ran your finger over her side, a kind action that Lesso was certainly not used to.

Your mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Lesso, partly replaying the amazingly wild events that just took place, but mostly of her reserved behavior. Well, more reserved behavior. You knew that something wasn't right and you not only wanted to know what but you also wanted her to know that you're here to listen.

You moved your face up to see her a little better, watching for a moment as she stared up at the ceiling with a nearly undetectable smile on her face.

"What are you thinking about?" You inquired.

"Nothing, nothing at all." That was all she said.

You had allowed a few minutes to go by, mainly so you didn't possibly ruin the moment with your conversation, but you couldn't go any longer without addressing your thoughts.

"How are you doing?"

Lesso scoffed, beginning to sit up and sat on the edge of the bed. That response told you everything you needed to know, she wasn't doing alright.

You stopped her before she could stand up, "Look, I'm sorry if I crossed a line or if you don't want to share but I thought it would help. I know something is not right. And if you don't want to talk about it, I won't make you. But, I'm here for you if you do."

She looked over her pale shoulder at you, and you could see the start of a tear gleam in her eyes, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you actually care."

"Well, do you?"

"Do I what?" The Déjà Vu hit both of you at the moment she spoke.

"Know better."

She scoffed again, but this one was different.

"I do care." You added.

"I just, never thought I'd have to endure something like that again. So, I pushed it all down and-" She cut herself off and shook her head.

"Talk to me, please?" You sat up with her, ignoring the way your legs protested. "I hate seeing you hold this in."

She relented, laying back down on the bed, trying hard to not get close to you like she desperately wanted to, "I pushed all the memories down. 'Out of sight, out of mind', right? But all this just made me realize I wasn't okay, I guess."

You were at a loss for words at her confession, a part of you knew that's what was bothering her, but hearing it and hearing her emotions coating her words was entirely different from your expectations.

Since you had no words, you simply just laid back down beside her and pulled her onto you. Her arm instantly wrapped around your waist as she buried her face in your neck.

"I may not know exactly what you've been through, but I do know that you won't have to go through that ever again. Not while I'm around." You spoke with certainty as your hand returned to her hair, your nails lightly scratching her scalp.

A soft kiss was placed where her lips lay against your neck, "I know." You weren't sure how she knew, but you were glad to hear that she fully believed the words she just spoke.

"No matter what you go through, from now on you won't ever have to go through it alone. I promise you that." You were so disappointed that an amazing woman like Lesso had to go through so much all by herself, going through hardships alone.

She may be the Dean of Evil but she didn't deserve that, no one does.

"You can't really promise something like that." She whispered.

"Oh, I'm not going anywhere. Everything you go through, I'll be with you for it. You've already marked me and you can't it back." You gestured to your body, now covered in love bites thanks to the redhead.

You felt lighter at the sound of her laughter, "Okay, okay. You make a good point." You could feel her smile against your skin.

"I usually do." You planted a kiss on her hairline.

At this moment, with the admissions now in the air, you knew that though the future may not be set in stone you also knew that you'd be alongside Lesso. The way you both just poured your all into each other finally caused you to be calm enough to feel tired.

Your body feels full exhaustion, Lesso fully relaxed against you.

"I think it's time we get some sleep." You suggested as you summoned a light blanket to lay over your bodies, you knew that neither of you wanted to get up but you needed to be covered.

"Mm, me too." You would've pulled her closer to you if it were possible, so instead you just strengthened your grip on her.

Lesso may be this Evil being to everyone else, but she knew you never really saw her as that. And now she knew that you saw her for who she was. That you saw the humanity within her, and for that, she couldn't be more grateful. In the few moments before she gave into sleep, she vowed that she'd do everything in her power to make sure you'd know that she was there for you in the same way you were for her. She vowed that you'd never have to wonder if you're worth it.

But both of you vowed that the other would never have to be alone again, that you'd have the other beside you through it all.

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @v3nusxsky @just-your-casual-nerd @pebbleswritessometimes @hxzxrdous @bigolgay @scream-queenlover @darkth1ngs @sgelessoanddoveykissing @i-like-reading

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whimsyfinny · 3 months

Text

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 2803

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

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Please read the below first:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 3

The rest of that day was pretty uneventful. Charlie practically threw my sad lone duffle bag through the front door and left before I could give her a piece of my mind for just leaving me here. I helped Sam put away the groceries he’d bought, emphasising that ‘we don’t put things down, we put them away’, otherwise we end up living in filth again. I also cleared some space around the study area that seems to be the centre of the bunker, and much to my dismay, threw out even more take-out boxes and beer bottles. I arranged all of the research that had been left on the desk in a mess, organising it into piles of read and unread; or at least what looked read and unread to me. The whole time Dean sat at this very desk and was watching cartoons on Sam’s laptop whilst his brother was in the shower, letting me do all the dirty work as he just sat there and relaxed. When I was finally done, I slumped down in the chair opposite him and slid all of the neat stacks of research towards myself. Dean looked up at me, his relaxed ‘cartoon-watching’ expression fading slightly.

“What are you doing?” He asked. I looked up at him like he was stupid.

“What do you think? I’m catching up on what you guys have been researching.”

He closed the laptop and folded his arms across his chest, the cotton of his flannel pulling tight over his large biceps.

“That’s such a waste of time.”

“And why, pray tell, is it such a waste of time Dean?”

“It’ll take you days, maybe weeks to catch up on what we know - either me or Sam can give you a rundown on what’s most important in an hour,” his tone was very matter-of-fact, like he didn’t want to be argued with. I sighed, crossing my arms on the table in front of me, leaning forwards.

“That’s great, you can still do that, but the more clued up I am as to what is going on then the more chance we have of finding what you need,” I paused for a second, a thought flashing across my mind. “Come to think of it, you haven’t even told me why I’m here, other than to ‘do research’. What are you looking for that has you so stumped?” Dean sucked a breath in through teeth, shifting slightly in his chair.

“The Fist Blade,” his tone had a thickness to it that I couldn’t place.

“The First Blade? As in Cain and Abel? THAT First Blade? ”

“Bingo.”

“But surely that’s long gone by now, it’s been two millennia at least. Nothing can last that long…can it?” I asked almost rhetorically. Dean shrugged.

“That’s what we want to know too,” his eyes flicked up and caught mine, his gaze burning into mine for only a moment with such intensity I felt my breath catch in my chest. The dark purple bruising on his face around his eyes made that forest green even more vibrant and alluring. There was a pause - for some reason I couldn’t look away and I had to catch myself before glancing at his bruised lips, which I knew already were devilishly charming. Right as I gave in to temptation and saw the corner of Deans poor split lip twitch into a smirk, Sam saved the day by striding in, towel-drying his hair. He paused, looked at us and frowned quizzically, almost like he was more surprised that we weren’t throwing furniture at each other. He didn’t say anything on that topic though, because as he looked around he noticed I’d cleaned. Again.

“(Y/n) you really have to stop cleaning up our mess,” he smiled, hanging his towel on the back of his chair as he took a seat next to me, his long legs grazing mine slightly.

“Sam just say ‘thank you’,” I tilted my head up to him - he was still enormous even when he was sitting down. He laughed slightly, almost bashfully as he looked down for a second at his twiddling thumbs before locking his eyes with mine again.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I returned his smile at last, holding it for a few seconds before continuing: “So Dean has just been explaining to me what you’re looking for. Surely the First Blade is long gone by now? How would it have survived this long, and still be functional - not just some pile of dust?” Sam huffed out an already exasperated breath, slouching back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, much like how Dean was sitting.

“I have no idea, at this point I feel like we’re grasping at air,” we all mumbled in agreement, suddenly sitting in a solemn sort of silence. It was short lived though as Sam leant forwards, pushing his damp hair from his eyes and trying to lighten the mood.

“Guys why don’t we just leave it for a few hours and get something for dinner? It’s getting late and we should really eat.” Dean suddenly sprang forwards, sitting up straight and lacing his fingers together on the desk with a grin on his stupid face.

“Good idea Sammy - I can’t wait to try her cooking. If she can cook half as well as she cleans then we’re in for a treat.”

“You son of a bitch!” I jumped up, grasping the first thing I could find (a file on God knows what) and smacked him across the face with it. Deans head turned with the force - albeit not much - and another stupid grin crept onto his stupid lips. He chuckled his deep, chesty laugh and tenderly touched his already sore face, wincing slightly.

“Just for a second I forgot you hated my guts,” he drawled, rising to his feet.

“Well you don’t do yourself any favours by talking to me like that.”

“Yeah? Well maybe if you weren’t such a hot head you’d be able to take a joke.”

“A joke? You call that a joke? Jokes are supposed to be funny, Dean, there wasn’t even a punchline,” I had started to raise my voice slightly and he gave me an extremely puzzled look.

“Hold the fucking phone - are you mad at me because I ‘insulted’ you or are you mad that there was no punchline?”

“I’m mad at YOU, because you’re just trying to rub me up the wrong way on purpose!”

There was a pause, and a smirk and a twinkle in Deans eye.

“Well I’m sure if you ask Sam nicely he’ll rub you up the right way.”

“DEAN!” Sam and I both cut in at the same time and when I glanced at him I noticed a faint pink glow on his cheeks.

“What?” He threw his hands up, “Sam you’ve been acting like a schoolgirl around her since we met her at the diner, always jumping to her aid first. Just admit you have a crush ok?” Dean gave his younger brother an ‘all knowing look’ as Sam covered his face.

“Dean I’m going to pretend you never said any of that and just move on,” Sam turned to me and said in a hushed tone “I’m so sorry,” before looking back at his brother, who was now reaching for his jacket. “And where are you going?” Sam quizzed.

“To get dinner, that’s what this whole conversation escalated from right? About what we were going to eat? Well I’m going to get takeout, what do you both want?” Dean said, throwing his hands into his jacket pockets.

“Dean sit down,” I chimed in, my voice sterner than I intended.

“What?”

“Just sit the fuck down. Both of you. Carry on researching and making yourself useful,” I said, moving away from the table.

“Why?” Sam did as he was told but Dean looked at me like I’d asked him to eat tofu.

“Because I’m not letting you boys eat yourself to death with E numbers and MSG. I’ll cook something,” and as the words left my mouth I saw Deans eyebrows raise so much I thought they might push his hairline back. Before he could get a single word out Sam spoke on behalf of both of them:

“If you’re really ok doing that, (Y/n), you’ve already done so much today-”

“Sam it’s fine, I really don’t mind. I actually enjoy cooking, and since Bobby’s been gone I’ve had no one to cook for. So yeah it’s ok,” I smiled at him reassuringly, and he smiled back.

“Ok, if you’re sure,” he paused, looking to his older brother who had removed his jacket and was taking a seat again, “I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to just because Dean-”

“Really Sam, I’m fine with it. I was planning to cook even before the jackass opened his trap.” The younger Winchester gave me a final ‘ok’ before I spun on my heel and walked towards the kitchen, not even bothering to give the older Winchester a second glance.

I guess it’s time to find out what these boys have lurking in their pantry.

I’d been cooking for maybe half an hour when I was finally done and called the boys to the kitchen. I set three places at the table, and placed down three beers and enough cutlery for all of us, alongside various condiments they might want. I was just serving up as they walked in, muttering to themselves about something they’d researched. As they both sat down, I placed two plates in front of them and watched their faces light up.

“STEAK!” They both had wide grins as they picked up their cutlery and immediately dug in.

“Don’t get too excited, it’s nothing special. Plus the fries were frozen and the mac ‘n’ cheese was instant,” I said, placing down my own plate and taking a seat between them.

“Don’t care, ‘s home cooked,” Dean said with a mouthful of food, reaching for his beer. Sam just nodded vigorously in agreement.

“Well ok then,” I smiled to myself, I guess a little happy that they were happy. And for once that Dean had nothing smart to say. Yet.

Dinner was pretty uneventful - and short - as the boys practically inhaled their food. When their plates were empty they just sat at the table in a happy silence, rubbing their full bellies.

“Considering you just used what we already had and didn’t go shopping for anything, that was fucking beautiful,” Dean said, stifling a burp. I looked at him in surprise.

“Oh… Thanks Dean,” I half smiled down at him as I stood to collect their plates. He put his hand out to stop me, taking them from my grasp and pushed gently on my shoulder, urging me to sit. He returned the half smile, standing up.

“No problem. Now let me do this, you’ve done enough for us today already. Take a break,” his voice was low and strangely kind towards me, and I was almost lost for words as I felt his firm chest brush against my arm as he took the plates from me, his body heat reaching my skin through the fabric. Was he being serious, or just leading up to be a dick in a rather roundabout way? Who knows. But I should try to appreciate the moment at least.

Dean washed up whilst Sam dried everything and put it all away, and I sat sipping my beer as they bustled about for a few minutes. Once they were done, Sam took his seat back at the table and Dean grabbed the tea towel, roughly wiping the surfaces and flinging it over his shoulder when he was done.

“And now it’s pie time,” he said suddenly, sparks of joy in his voice. I grinned.

“Oooh, can I have some?” I asked. Dean turned to look at me like I’d asked him to shoot a puppy, and Sam muttered an ‘oh boy’ under his breath.

“Can you have some?” Dean repeated my request back to me, those sparks of joy in his voice no longer there.

“Yeah…please? I saw it in the fridge earlier, there’s definitely enough to share,” I stated, starting to feel like I was missing something here. Sam cleared his throat and I turned to look at him, an unusual expression on his face.

“Uhhh…(Y/n), Dean doesn’t share his pie. Not even with me.” Dean slammed the fridge door closed, said pie now in hand.

“You’re Goddamn right. The pies mine, now back off,” he gave me a warning look as he grabbed a fork and sat back down next to me again.

“Fuck me; really? What are you, a child? Who the fuck won’t share a pie made for four people?” I asked, getting exasperated with Deans bullshit. I knew the kindness wouldn’t last.

“Me.”

“Fuck you.”

“Guys, I’m gonna go and get some sleep - I’ll be back in a few hours. Thanks for dinner (Y/n), it was great,” Sam stood and pinched the bridge of his nose, not being inconspicuous at all about being done with bickering between Dean and I. He smiled softly at me before he left, patting my shoulder as I said a quiet ‘sleep well’ to him before he exited the room. Then it just left me and Dean. Again.

“Just one slice,” I asked abruptly, watching him shovel pastry into his face.

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Dean I made you dinner and tidied your shit, the least you can do is give me a slice,” I slid forward in my chair, inching closer to him in a new attempt to get him to share.

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“No.”

“Fuck,” I threw my hands up before leaning forwards a little more so I was now close enough to smell him. And annoyingly he smelt divine - his cologne mixed with the scent of old leather and woodsmoke, perhaps a little gunpowder too. I breathed in, trying to get to the sweet smell of the desert he had, but all I could smell was him. I tried to ignore it. He was still a douchebag.

“One bite?” He sighed and turned to look at me, noses almost touching as I flinched back, not realising how much I’d shuffled towards him. He sighed, dropping his head slightly.

“Ok, just one bite,” he said as I did a very quiet squeal of delight. I reached for the fork in his hand but he held it up out of my reach, shaking his head.

“No. Not you.”

“Dean, come on.”

“Open.”

“What are you-”

“Open your mouth,” he said sternly, those evergreen eyes finding mine.

“Wait wha-”

“Open your Goddamn mouth (Y/n)” he said, his voice turning gravelly as I felt his breath on my face. I felt heat start to flood my cheeks and I couldn’t tell what emotion it was coming from, as I had started to feel a lot of things all at once. What made my head spin a little though was hearing my name fall from his lips - he hadn’t said it before, at least not to my face. And I hated myself for liking how it sounded. I didn’t say anything to him as I eventually did as I was told; opening my mouth and instinctively sticking out my tongue a little. I wasn’t sure where to look, so I looked at him - the concentration on his face as he scooped up an acceptable amount of pie to part with was amusing to say the least. Happy with my tiny portion, he turned to me and put the fork on my tongue, to which I closed my lips around as he slowly pulled it from my mouth, leaving the amazingly sweet desert behind. With my eyes now closed, I couldn’t help but hum in delight, savouring every flavour before I swallowed it down. Slowly opening my eyes again, I wasn’t expecting to see Dean still watching me, lips slightly parted as his gaze flickered between my eyes and my sticky lips, which I was now licking clean. He seemed to catch himself quickly though, immediately scooping up more pie for himself and cramming it into his own mouth. I sat back in my chair, picking up my beer and draining the bottle.

“Next time you buy a pie, Winchester,” I started, standing and tossing the bottle in the bin, “buy one for me so we don’t have this problem again.” He looked up at me just as I turned to leave.

“No promises,” his lip quirked slightly - so slightly that I wondered if he’d even smirked at all. I scoffed, giving him one last look as I rolled my eyes before I left the room to continue researching.

“Fuck you.”

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Up Next:

Chapter 4

#dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #dean x female!reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #eventual smut

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lipglossanon · 6 months

Text

Mythical/Supernatural Being

vampire!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader - NSFW

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, biting, blood kink, technical monsterfucking 😜, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), gaslighting, mind/memory wipe, coercion, noncon

not proofread ✌️

You’re at a party when he catches your eye. Mindy, your co worker, decided to have a little costume party that now seems to be out of her control with people from all over showing up to her house.

It explains why this man you’ve never met, but feels familiar, seems to be checking you out. He’s pretty in a handsome sort of way, strong cheekbones and very serious blue eyes. You shoot him a smile when your eyes meet and he tilts his head, a curious and bland look on his face.

Feeling like you may have read the room wrong, you offer an awkward smile and a shrug before turning and making your way into the, surprisingly, empty kitchen.

“Hello.”

A man’s voice speaks behind you making you jump in place before turning around, clutching the base of your neck.

“Jeez, you scared me,” you laugh nervously, “uh, h-hi.”

The man from earlier stands just a foot away now, letting you see him fully. He’s taller than you thought and fit, biceps and shoulders pressing against his shirt and making your mouth water.

“I’m sorry for staring earlier,” he gives you an easy going smile, “you just reminded me of someone.”

Embarrassment burns hot behind your eyes making you internally cringe.

“Oh no big deal!” You clear your throat, “I guess I’m just sorry I took it the wrong way.”

His smile slips into a grin, “How did you take it?”

Feeling flustered now, you fidget with the gaudy rings on your fingers that you thought were a riot to pair with your vampire costume.

“It doesn’t matter,” you shrug, “so uh, are you friends with Mindy?”

He laughs, “Is it bad that I don’t even know who that is?”

You grin, “No, to be fair, I don’t think more than ten people probably know the host. But I guess however you found out, you at least knew to dress up.”

He laughs again, blue eyes sharper than before, “Yeah? What am I supposed to be?”

You gesture to yourself, “A vampire, unless I’m off the mark. We have the same vibe going.”

Leon glances down at his own clothing, dark pants with a long sleeved white shirt and vest offset with a velvet coat with tails. He then looks up to see your silly lacy frock with a red vest paired with dark wash jeans.

You laugh again, “Okay, well yours is a little more like the real deal but to be fair I only had like an hour to throw this together.”

He goes to step forward when a group of people bustle into the kitchen, loudly talking and laughing with each other. Grabbing your hand, he tugs and you follow as he leads you both through the French doors into the backyard.

You feel your heart rate kick into overdrive when he guides you all the way to the gazebo off to the side, nearly hidden from view of the house.

“We shouldn’t be interrupted anymore, right?” He smiles at you but instead of invoking warmth it sends chills running down your spine.

“R-right,” you give him a shaky smile in return, realizing Leon is blocking the only way out of the gazebo, “so, um, you said I reminded you of someone. Were you looking for her here?”

“You could say that,” he takes a step forward and you take one back.

“I might can help, I mean I know a lot of people here already,” you ramble, feeling your nerves get the best of you.

He smirks, features looking colder in the moonlight, “No need, she’s technically not around anymore.”

“Technically?” The spit in your mouth dries up as your back hits the gazebo lattice.

Leon keeps getting closer to you until he’s boxing you in, hands coming up to brace on either side of your head. You’re engulfed with his scent of cedar wood and pine resin sprinkled with hints of warm vanilla underneath; it makes you dizzier the more you breathe it in.

Leaning down, he noses gently against your hairline making you gasp.

“She’s not alive anymore,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear in amusement, “it’s just a little game I like to play, to find her look alike. This isn’t the first time I’ve played with you. Aren’t you lucky, my little vampire?”

You push against Leon’s chest but his mouth watering scent keeps you dizzy and weak, like a kitten pawing at his vest making him chuckle.

“Poor thing,” one of his hands moves to cradle your jaw, his thumb smoothing over your bottom lip, “you’re in over your silly little head, hmm?”

“Who’re you?” You slur out, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth.

“Leon, but you already knew that,” he coos, blue eyes gazing deep into your own, “you’re resisting me, little vampire, but it’s no use.”

“Wanna leave,” you mumble tiredly, unable to pull away from him.

He chuckles meanly, “But why? I’m going to make you feel so good.”

You feel a sharp needle like pain sink into the side of your neck followed by honey thick pleasure dripping down your body from that pressure point. Pressing your thighs together, you whimper as your cunt throbs with want. A rumbling moan comes from the man in front of you as he drinks from your neck.

Your hands tangle in his hair with the intention to yank him away but against your own wishes you pull him closer, whining for more. With a growl, he pulls away from your neck, blue eyes so bright they seem to shine in the dark. His mouth is swollen and painted red with your blood.

“So sweet,” he licks his bottom lip and you catch a hint of his fangs, “I could smell you from outside. Your blood called to me as it always does, sweetling.”

“W-what?” You gasp out while he licks across the bite mark on your neck, sealing the wound as if it was never there.

“Shhh, just let me taste you,” he murmurs against your skin.

Tearing your vest off and shirt open, he pulls down the cup of your bra and bites your breast right above your heart. A keening cry slips past your lips and you sag against his firm body. He moans and uses one arm to wrap around your upper body, cradling you to him as he drinks.

Your mind drifts in a fugue state, feeling the sharp bite of pain each time he sinks his fangs into your body but immediately having it swept away by arousal so potent it has your thighs trembling as slick fills and soaks through your panties.

By the time, he pulls away from your body, you’re swaying into his chest, unable to stay up on your own two feet. He slots his leg in between your thighs and you moan, rocking down on the pressure against your clit.

“Such a needy girl,” he rasps, big hands gripping the fat of your hips to help you grind against his thigh, “come on sweetling, make yourself cum and I’ll take you home.”

The only thing your brain latches onto is making yourself cum. You need it so badly. Humping down onto Leon’s thighs, he kisses and nips at your neck, scraping his fangs against the skin and making you whimper at the hint of pain.

“Cum for me, then I can take you apart in a real bed, make you scream for me,” his dark baritone promises, tongue tracing the shell of your ear, “be a good girl and cum on my leg.”

He yanks you down on his leg just right, rubbing your swollen clit against the seam of your jeans and making your orgasm uncoil from your belly. You cum with a low moan; reaching out, your nails dig into his broad shoulders as you whimper, slowly coming to a stop against his thigh.

Your whole body feels wiped out, like you can sleep forever.

A rumbling chuckle makes you realize you must’ve spoken out loud.

“No one wants to sleep forever.”

Your brain is slow to come back online which Leon is all too happy to coax you back into a half asleep state. He swings you up into his arms and that’s the last thing you remember before passing out.

It feels like your consciousness is swimming through molasses as you finally come to your senses. Blearily, you open your eyes, squinting from the steady moonlight pouring through the open window. Turning your head, you can’t see much of the room, only that you’re splayed out in a large bed with soft sheets.

“There she is,” a voice rumbles from between your legs drawing your half open gaze.

Looking down, you see that you’re completely naked and marked all over with puncture wounds. The man from the party is lying between your spread legs.

“Leon,” you murmur softly and he grins, showing off his sharpened incisors.

“Glad you could join me,” he kisses the bite mark he’d been nursing on your thigh making your clit throb.

His mouth kisses up to the junction of where your cunt and thigh meet, letting his fangs pierce your soft skin. Your thighs tremble and slick drips from your pussy as he laps up the blood beading from the punctures he made.

“So pretty, all marked up like this,” he purrs, mouth kissing across to your mound and aching clit, “should I sink my teeth into this fat little pussy?”

You moan shakily as his fangs teasingly brush across the lips of your cunt.

“Maybe after I’ve had my fill,” he chuckles lowly, “wanna eat you out first.”

With a sigh, he sinks down and licks up the slick dripping from your hole, tongue thrusting lazily inside your pussy. Your arms lay above your head, fingers twitching, feeling weighed down like you can’t move them. Whining, you toss your head back, hips rolling against Leon’s hungry mouth.

His hands trap your thighs against the bed, keeping your spread open as he laps and sucks his way up to your sensitive bud. His mouth softly kisses across the hood of your clit until you’re rocking up into him.

“Please,” you gasp out, “please, Leon.”

He growls and suckles your clit into his mouth, tongue circling the sensitive nerves over and over until you’re humping his mouth with a moan. Laughing, he pulls away to spit on your cunt making your whole body shudder.

“My girl tastes so good,” he kisses all around your pussy, teeth nipping the sensitive skin making you whimper, “but I think it’ll be better if I fuck this silky pussy, right baby?”

You moan and Leon pulls away from your wet cunt. He moves up your body, forearms braced on either side of your head as he grinds down against you, dripping cock leaking precum all over your slick thighs. Your body feels an insatiable need to be filled— fucked by Leon.

He slides his arms underneath your shoulders to help you wrap your hands around his neck. Then, he reaches down to guide your legs to wrap around his waist.

“Good girl,” he coos, making your head go fuzzy as that intoxicating scent of his seems to bloom in the air, “about to stretch this gorgeous little pussy out.”

You let out a choked off gasp as his cock breaches your cunt, bottoming out quickly, stretching your walls to the point you feel split in two.

“Leon,” you mewl pitifully, tears slipping from your eyes.

“Shh, shh,” he soothes, “it already feels good doesn’t it, sweetling?”

His fangs open up two new holes in the side of your neck making your cunt clamp down on his cock as a small orgasm washes through you.

“There we go,” he coos condescendingly, “pussy just needed a little help. Now you’re cumming all over me.”

You sob out a moan, tears streaming down your temples as Leon pulls out and fucks roughly back into your sensitive hole. Although your legs and arms are wrapped around his body, you lie there practically limp as he fucks his thick cock into your soaked pussy.

“You’re always such a good fuck,” he grunts in your ear, “no matter how many times we do this.”

“What’re you…”

You try to talk but your mind is just too out of it to form words.

He chuckles meanly, “This isn’t the first time. But don’t worry, I’ll make you forget so we can do this again.”

His cock throbs and kicks inside your fluttering walls making you whimper.

“Mmm, I’m gonna play with this cute pussy all night,” he groans, dragging his cock against the spongy spot in your cunt that has you clenching around him.

He snaps his hips harder and fucks the fat tip of his cock against your cervix making you squeal. He’s barely pulling out before thrusting back in, scraping against your g-spot before his cock presses deep inside your pussy. A handful of harsh grinds as he fucks the opening to your womb has you a drooling mess.

“That’s the spot,” he rumbles, voice a low rasp, “and when I cum, it’s gonna be deep inside this needy cunt.”

You cry out when he sinks his teeth into you over and over, not even drinking your blood, just marking your neck up with vicious bites. It’s enough to make you cum hard around his cock, toes curling as fireworks explode inside your mind. He humps inside your spasming pussy until burying himself balls deep and spilling his sticky jizz all inside your fluttering walls.

“Taking it like such a good girl,” he moans, pumping his load directly against your cervix, hot sticky ropes of cum spurting from the tip of his cock.

The blood roars in your ears as he grinds down against your hips.

“Just close your eyes, sweetling,” his smoky voice drifts into your ears, “when you wake up you won’t remember a thing.”

divider: @firefly-graphics

#lipglossanon #lipglossanonmasterlist #lipglossmasterlist #promptober 2023 #lipglossanon promptober 2023 #vampire!leon kennedy #vampire!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #vampire!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #vampire!leon s kennedy smut #fem!reader #monsterfucking technically lol

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urrockstar-xe · 1 year

Text

bad friend - j.m x fem!reader

posted may 2nd, 2023, 5:19 pm

anon asked: Hello!! Can I request a JJ Maybank x Fem!reader where they are dating with prompt 8. “You know you’re my favorite right?” “I better be” Maybe reader gets into a fight with John B. JJ doesnt really know which side to choose, (between best friend and girlfriend), and reader gets mad/hurt/offended whatever and walks away and JJ follows her

note from xe: strayed a little but I hope you still enjoy it! also this has no actual scene from obx involved I just kind of went with it and sry that jb is kind of a dick.

masterlist

wordcount: 0.6k

“You know what John B? At this point, I don’t give a flying fuck about the gold, I don’t care about being kook rich, I don’t care about Rafe not being in prison and I don’t care about these stupid fucking treasure hunts!”

Your yelling was warranted, John B had been giving you shit all day about how you just don’t seem to care enough like everyone else. And he was right, because “The gold ruined my fucking life! I have nothing! Nothing John B! This is all I have, this group of people right there is It for me”

John B scoffed, earning a glare from Kiara as he still wasn’t listening to you. “You know what I think, Y/n? I think that if you really felt that way, you’d care more, right now you’re just being a bad friend”

“Hey, man-” Pope tried speaking up but you lifted your hand telling him to stop. JJ hadn’t moved from his spot by the railing, and Sarah and Kie were already seated in the boat you were supposed to leave on.

Sick of fighting for a right to have feelings you began walking away, quietly speaking as you left “Fuck you, Jb.”

John B rolled his eyes, dropping it and going to the boat. Pope sighed. “Are we gonna at least wait for her?” “Pope, do you want a chance to get to this cross or not?”

JJ watched as Pope and John B got into the boat with the girls, before looking back in the direction you had just walked in. “Hey, you guys go ahead, we’ll catch up.”

“JJ, what do you mean-” “Just go without me I’ll meet you guys later!” and with that, he was off. Following the trail, you had just taken.

It didn’t take him long to catch up with you, it never did. “Hey there, pretty lady,” He said, coming up behind you. You turned to face the boy, now leaning against a similar railing to the one JJ had just been leaning on a few moments prior.

He smiled at you, not expecting one back but getting a small one in return. “They leave?” you asked softly, your eyes not leaving JJ as he moved to stand beside you. “Yeah,” “without you?” “I’m sure they’ll make do,” JJ joked, nudging you slightly.

You moved your gaze to the floor, wondering what to say next but speaking before figuring it out. “You understand right? Why I’m exhausted? Why I can't keep doing this but do it anyway?” JJ began nodding along but you continued before he could verbally respond.

“Like why it’d be hard, that doesn’t make me a bad friend, right? I do everything for you guys. I hope he realizes that I hope they all do. I hope you do” As you finished, you looked back up at your boyfriend, seeing the soft look on his face.

Suddenly JJ threw his arm around your shoulders, grinning at you. You caught the vibe he was throwing your way, he was trying to lighten the mood. You helped, taking the old baseball cap off his head and putting it on your own, smiling at his hat hair.

“You know you’re my favorite right? Like even Pope can’t compete” You scoffed lightheartedly, “Yeah, I better be”

JJ fixed his hair before he stood in front of you, slowly walking backward as he spoke, “Wanna go back to the chateau? Think there’s some beer left in that cooler” You were already following his lead, “It’s probably warm” he shrugged in response, “so we’ll drink it warm”

“What about the cross?” “If they need our help they can just, I don’t know, yell super loud,” You laughed at this, and laughed some more when JJ fist-bumped the air before turning to walk properly and putting his arm around you.

“So steal John B’s beer?” “Steal John B’s beer”

#jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #outer banks imagines #Spotify

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seungkwansphd · 1 year

Text

just deserts

pairing: wonwoo x minghao x fem reader word count: 4.9k synopsis: when wonwoo and minghao invited you to this fancy business event, it hadn't really crossed your mind that they'd be busy working instead of entertaining you! perhaps you can find someone else to keep you busy, but those who misbehave always get their just deserts. themes/cw: SMUT! mdni!, threesome, established poly, BDSM elements, brat-ish vibes, toy usage, rough sex, power dynamic, degradation kink, spitting(once), cumplay(kinda?).

a/n: idk friends, the horny thoughts just keep coming. baby's first 3some fic! i think i got everything for content warnings, but do lmk if i missed anything! also TYSM to @playmetheclassics for beta-ing and making me this BEAUTIFUL banner (via @classicscreations) i appreciate you so much!

“Hao I’m bored,” you pouted, tugging at Minghao’s necktie as you looked up at him.

“Bored? Or needy?” He glanced down at you, clocking your true intentions immediately.

“Both,” your lips curled up at him playfully. “Do you and Wonwoo have to do so much networking tonight?”

“You already know the answer to that,” he replied. He was trying to be stern, but you knew that Minghao typically had a softer spot for you than Wonwoo.

“I should’ve just stayed home,” you grumbled. “At least at home I wouldn’t be wearing such uncomfortable heels and I could have fun by myself,” you whispered suggestively at Hao, fingertips tracing down the edge of his lapel mischievously.

“Oh?” he raised an eyebrow, lips quirking up with interest. Your teasing words forced him to recall the last time he’d watched you pleasure yourself and he found himself effectively distracted.

“Quit it,” Wonwoo appeared behind you, whispering discreetly in your ear. He’d been watching you and Minghao from across the room and could tell that Hao was close to folding.

“Quit what?” you asked, feigning innocence, blinking up at Wonwoo with wide eyes.

“You know what,” he hissed, tugging harshly at one of the ties on your dress. “Hao, you need to go talk to the president of the bank.”

Minghao stood up straight and cleared his throat. Wonwoo was right, some clear objectives needed to be met tonight. He downed the rest of the drink and made his way towards the president, leaving you and Wonwoo alone. You were disappointed when Wonwoo’s eyes caught another potential investor’s and he left you just as swiftly.

You sulked. When Wonwoo and Hao had originally asked if you’d wanted to attend, the idea of getting dolled up to attend this fancy event had appealed to you. Still, you hadn’t realized just how much business they both intended to do! You’d spent the last few hours mostly by yourself and your feet absolutely throbbed with pain, so you were in a bad mood to say the least.

Well, if Minghao and Wonwoo weren’t going to pay attention to you, you were sure you could find someone else who would.

“Oh, Dylan?” you smiled happily as you caught sight of a young investor that you had met a few months ago.

“Oh, YN? I didn’t know you’d be here tonight!” the handsome young gentleman smiled, pulling you in for a quick hug.

“I didn’t know you’d be here either!” your eyes sparkled at him, squeezing him back maybe just a tad too enthusiastically. “How have you been?”

“Good, very good actually,” he answered after some thought. “Are you tied up? If not, let’s grab a drink to catch up.”

“Not at all,” you smiled back genially. “Let’s do it!” You placed your hand into his and allowed him to lead you towards the bar. Wonwoo and Minghao’s relationship with Dylan was interesting and complicated. As an investor of many businesses, he was somehow both a prospect and a competitor at the same time. While they often found themselves competing with businesses that he held a stake in, they would also more than welcome investment from him. As always, you were acting in a way that you knew would irritate them, but wouldn’t completely piss them off.

Minghao’s eyes flitted to you from across the room. Dylan Wang wasn’t on the list of marks for the evening, but certainly would’ve been a ‘nice to have’. He and Wonwoo did their best to stay engaged in their respective conversations, but every simpering giggle that fell from your lips caused their ears to prick towards you. Their eyes met, communicating silently. They finished their respective schmoozing and moved to intercept you.

“Oh, Hao!” your eyes lit up as you saw him first. “Dylan, you remember my colleague, Minghao?” you beamed at Dylan as you gestured towards Hao.

“Of course,” Dylan nodded at the other man.

“It’s good to see you again,” Minghao greeted him stiffly, almost physically fighting the urge to stare daggers at the hand draped around your waist.

“Actually, if you have a moment, I’d love to pick your brain,” Hao finally came up with an excuse, prying Dylan from your side. At the same time, Wonwoo materialized behind you and pulled you behind a heavily foliaged fiddle leaf fig.

“Care to explain yourself?” He asked, peering at you down the line of his nose.

“About?” you asked, as if clueless. Wonwoo’s eyebrows twitched with irritation before he replied.

“A little bit of attention and he can put his hands on you? Are you that easy?” he sneered. His eyes flicked over you in a way that triggered a warmth to spread across your cheeks.

Your brows furrowed and you opened your mouth, but were cut off before you could retort.

“I know you’re bored, but if you don’t get a hold of yourself, you’ll have something else to worry about,” he hissed in your ear, gripping your hips tightly.

Your brow wrinkled with confusion, so Wonwoo went on to elaborate.

“You are dangerously close to getting bent over and railed right here. If you’re that desperate we can ruin this whole event. I’m almost past caring at this point.”

The words were menacing and sent a chill down your spine. Part of you thought that Wonwoo was above his baser urges and wouldn’t undo months of planning just to punish you, but the other part of you had seen this man at his most unhinged and you thought perhaps he just might.

“It’s so boring though,” you frowned. You could feel Wonwoo’s poor mood rolling off of him.

“Then go home,” he spoke through his teeth. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick message.

“Car’s coming.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, stomping off towards the coat check.

“Be ready when we get home,” he caught your wrist, voice so low you could barely hear it. “And don’t think it’s worth your while to get a head start.”

You swallowed, eyes narrowing at him before you tried to step away. Wonwoo’s fingers bit into you, a warning, and you nodded before you slipped out of his grip and worked towards the car. Your lips curled up into a smile once you were out of his line of sight. If you played your cards right, you might get what you wanted.

…

Wonwoo ran his right hand over his face as he looked at the phone in his left hand. He’d thought that sending you home would be enough to make you behave, but that didn’t seem to be the case. He scrolled through the pictures and texts that he had had to silence and his blood boiled.

“She’s in for it, isn’t she?” Minghao chuckled, throwing his partner a wry look.

“What do you think?” Wonwoo almost snapped.

“Don’t get mad at me, I’m not the one being a brat,” Hao threw his hands up in defense.

“No, but you encourage her,” Woo accused. Generally he enjoyed the dynamic nature of your relationship, but it really would’ve been easier tonight if you had just been good.

“Shall we take bets on whether she managed to wait?” Hao chuckled.

“I sincerely doubt it,” Wonwoo rolled his eyes with a snicker, “She was so needy. I bet she’s a mess already.”

“I guess I’ll have to have a little faith then,” Minghao laughed, leaning forward to shake Wonwoo’s hand.

You huffed as you scrolled through your phone, disappointed but not surprised that neither Minghao nor Wonwoo had responded to your many lewd texts. You had graced them with a play by play of your various states of undress as you’d slipped out of your gown and you’d expected at least one text back, but they both seemed to be playing hardball tonight.

Your ears pricked to attention as you heard them return. First, the scraping of the key in the door was followed by a series of footsteps, but you were surprised when you heard them stop. You couldn’t see it, but Wonwoo and Minghao were discussing the approach they planned to take, which had the added bonus of making you wait. Eventually, their footfalls resumed and they entered your room, the stern expressions on their faces sending a chill down your spine.

“Hi,” you greeted them. Your voice sounded small, even to yourself.

“I guess I was wrong, Hao,” Wonwoo sneered, barely even looking at you, “She was able to control herself.”

“I guess so,” Minghao chuckled, hands in his pockets. “I’ll owe you.”

“Did you take bets on me?” your brow wrinkled as you pieced things together. You were both offended and excited.

“And if we did?” Wonwoo looked down his nose at you, one eyebrow raised. When you couldn’t formulate a response his lips curled up into a smirk.

“That’s what I thought.”

Even though you grew weak when Wonwoo treated you this way, you couldn't help the reflexive way your temper flared. Glaring at him, you crossed your arms over your chest stubbornly.

“Great, you’re home. Now good night,” you scrunched your nose at him, laying back down and pulling the covers over yourself. Minghao was amused at this behavior and he complied easily when Wonwoo gestured for him to go to you.

“Good night?” Hao cooed, sitting next to you on the bed, running his fingertips across your exposed shoulder. “After all that teasing, you’re just going to go to bed?”

“You guys are boring anyways,” you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, but you shifted slightly so that you were facing him more.

“There’s my pretty girl,” Hao smiled down at you, trailing his fingers up your neck to cup your chin and rub the pad of his thumb against your lower lip. You hummed, preening under his praise.

“You looked so good tonight, it was hard to keep my hands off you,” he continued to shower you with compliments as Wonwoo wandered towards the dresser and pulled the top drawer open.

“Pfft,” you rolled your eyes at Hao.

Wonwoo’s expression ticked at this behavior. You’d been riding the line with your poor behavior all night and this pushed him over the edge.

“Out of bed, now,” his deep voice rang out tersely. You looked at him with surprise and his expression sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed loudly, pulse quickening as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed. The edge that you could hear in Wonwoo’s voice made you wonder if you had pushed too hard.

“Come here,” he instructed, back still facing you as he perused the contents of the drawer. You glanced at Minghao nervously before stepping towards Wonwoo, looking at his broad back until he turned to face you. His tongue swiped across his teeth as he took in your pajama set with distaste.

“Get out of this,” were the last words he spoke before he tossed a bundle of shibari rope at Minghao and pulled an app-controlled vibrator out of the drawer.

Minghao started undoing the rope from its storage tie and looked towards Wonwoo for guidance on how he wanted you tonight. After ensuring that the toy was connected to his phone, Wonwoo brought himself toe to toe with you, pulling your chin up harshly to meet his gaze.

“Color?” he asked. His tone was cold, but you could see a hint of softness in his eyes if you squinted.

“Green.”

“Limits?”

“Same as usual,” you blinked up at him.

Wonwoo nodded before shifting slightly to position your arms behind you so that Minghao could tie you up. He folded your forearms together so that each hand held the opposite elbow and you enjoyed the slight stretch that you felt through your shoulders. Your skin broke out in goosebumps as Hao started binding you. His fingertips trailed across your skin teasingly as he snaked rope around you, snapping it against your skin tautly every so often for impact. Your arms were effectively immobilized and the rope created a harness around your chest. Hao slipped two fingers into each of your hands and you gripped them tightly, completing his check to ensure he hadn’t cut off your circulation.

“Knees,” Wonwoo demanded as he rolled his shirtsleeves up to his elbows. He smirked as you dropped for him, struggling for a moment to keep your balance as you didn’t have your arms to help right you. His eyes burned into you as he pulled at his tie, loosening it before he approached. Your nipples puckered being in this vulnerable position as adrenaline rushed through you.

“You look so good like this,” Hao cupped your cheek in his hand as he stood behind you. “On your knees for us.”

“Hn,” you giggled, looking up at him sweetly as his thumb grazed your lips. You opened your mouth, sucking his thumb into your wet hole.

“Look at you. You’ll put your mouth on anything, won’t you?” Wonwoo sneered, eyes trained on the shape your lips made around Minghao’s digit. He allowed it to go on for a few more moments before he snaked a hand into your hair, pulling you back. You gasped in surprise and Wonwoo seized the opportunity to pop the remote controlled vibe into your mouth.

“Hold this for me,” he chuckled sarcastically. You narrowed your eyes at him, but whatever retort you could have come up with was effectively muzzled.

Hao patted you on the head before undoing his tie and rolling up his sleeves. He sank to his knees behind you, checking your grip before using his hands to torture you. Wonwoo watched as Hao’s fingertips traced along his bindings, brushed along the undersides of your breasts, and gripped tightly, as if trying to bruise you. Then with his left hand, you traced along your inner thighs until he met the slick dripping out of you.

“Absolutely fucking soaked,” he snickered as he nipped at your collarbone sharply. “Pathetic.”

You let out a desperate, muffled sound, forgetting that Wonwoo’s toy was still in your mouth.

“Shall I?” Minghao’s eyes flitted up to the older man’s.

“Yes, can’t have her leaking all over the place, after all,” Wonwoo nodded after blinking slowly.

Hao chuckled as he plucked the toy from your mouth, reaching between your legs, and sliding it into you, nice and snug. Your arousal provided more than sufficient lubrication and you felt yourself being filled until the base sat securely against your clit. Your hips jerked slightly at this new sensation, arching back against his broad chest.

You clenched around the toy and watched Wonwoo play with his phone lazily. He didn’t even bother to look at you as you turned it on, setting it abuzz at a medium setting.

“Oh!” you whimpered pathetically, jumping slightly. Minghao’s grip on your rope harness, however, held you firmly in place as you soaked the toy lodged deep inside of you. You squirmed and twisted as Wonwoo increased the speed.

“Wonwoo!” you pleaded with him fruitlessly.

“Hao,” Wonwoo’s eyebrows jerked up slightly and Minghao nodded, reaching forward to press his palm against the base of the toy. You jerked again, desperate for relief, but Hao’s grip on your harness was ironclad.

“Hao!” you cried, tears welling in your eyes as his right hand pressed against you, grinding the buzzing toy cruelly against your sopping wet, swollen clit. You let out a mangled scream as your first orgasm ripped through you, your head falling back against Hao’s shoulder, chest heaving beautifully for Wonwoo to witness.

“One more,” Hao whispered in your ear as he kept the toy pressed against you, working you through another orgasm until you were gasping wildly for breath.

“I fucking hate you two,” you cursed between inhale and exhale, body heavy as you tried to gather yourself.

“You keep running your mouth like that and I’ll leave you tied up on the floor with the toy on all night,” Wonwoo’s eyes flashed dangerously at you. Your lips pressed into a straight line before you could say anything else.

“That’s better,” Wonwoo scoffed, squatting down in front of you, jerking you up by Hao’s ties to meet him. “Open.”

Your breath hitched as you opened your mouth, already anticipating his next move. Wonwoo’s expression was a mixture of appreciation and disdain when he sent a glob of saliva flying into your mouth. You let out the tiniest of whimpers when it landed at the back of your tongue. You hated and loved how well he knew you.

“You might as well put your mouth to use,” Wonwoo stood, gesturing towards Minghao as he walked away.

You turned to Minghao with a playful grin, licking your lips with anticipation. Minghao’s lips curled up into a smile, but he surprised you when he moved away from you, instead electing to sit in a chair across the room. He leaned back, legs spread as he palmed himself through the front of his pants. When you didn’t move, he looked up, eyes hooded, and summoned you towards him with two fingers.

You threw him a look. He really expected you to get to him on your knees like this?

“Come,” he coaxed, voice deceptively like honey as he palmed himself through his slacks.

You struggled a little, but eventually managed to balance on your knees and shuffle towards him. For a moment you contemplated rather you’d prefer being unbound, as crawling would be less difficult, though maybe more humiliating. By the time you had managed to wedge yourself between his legs, your arousal had dripped practically down to your knees.

“That’s our good girl,” Wonwoo settled in behind you, placing his fingers into your hands for another safety check. “Now show him what that filthy mouth is good for,” he grinned. “Don’t forget to use your physical cues on me if you need.”

You nodded, smiling gratefully before leaning forward to drag your lips across Minghao’s erection. You nibbled along the underside of it until you reached the tip and pulled him into your mouth. You hummed contentedly when you heard him hiss with pleasure. Minghao always made such nice sounds. Being restrained posed a bit of an extra challenge, but you managed to find a position where you were comfortable enough to bob your head up and down his length, breath catching every so often when his tip hit the back of your throat.

“So sloppy,” Minghao exhaled, puncturing the quiet as his abs contracted and twitched.

Wonwoo gripped your hips, grinding himself against your ass as he watched with admiration. You were going to leave a stain on his slacks, but that only served to egg him on more. Something in Wonwoo snapped as he watched you moan around Minghao’s cock and his thrusts grew sharper and more desperate. Digging his fingertips into your hips, he pulled you back, jerking Minghao out of your mouth. You cried out loudly as Wonwoo ground himself against the toy still firmly lodged inside of you.

“Wonwoo,” you wailed.“Please!”

“Oh?” he cooed, deceptively sweet, in your ear. “Gonna cum again? Cum for me?”

“Yes, Woo,” you nodded desperately.

“Go ahead,” he ordered, hand now fisted around one of the shibari ropes around your back. His hips pumped against you mercilessly and you came with a fluttery wail, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.

“Do you want your arms back?” Wonwoo murmured against the top of your head as he supported you.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Hao,” Wonwoo jerked his head towards you and Minghao quickly set upon untying you. You smiled at him gratefully as he supported your upper body, rubbing your shoulders gently where he knew you’d be stiff.

“I do enjoy seeing you marked up like this,” Wonwoo raised an eyebrow as he counted the indents that the rope had left on your skin as he pulled you to your feet.

You turned to reach for him, eager at his praise. You were completely surprised when he caught you by the side of the face and held you away at arm’s length.

“Wha-?” you mumbled against his palm.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Wonwoo asked, tone cold.

“Oh, I just-,” you stuttered, “I thought-...” you trailed off. Now that you tried to put it into words, you didn’t know what you’d been thinking.

“Now we all know that thinking isn’t your strong suit, kitten. Do you really think that after all your bad behavior today, you’re going to get a sweet little kiss?” he sneered at you.

“Not when you put it like that,” you pouted.

“So desperate for attention that you were even willing to let Dylan Wang put his hands on you,” Minghao appeared behind you, hand sliding over your hip possessively. “Did you forget who you belong to?”

“No, I-,” your craned your head, eyes searching him out.

“Laughing like a simpering little twit at his bad jokes, hanging off his arm,” Wonwoo seethed, pulling your attention back to him. They were giving you whiplash.

“I-,” you struggled to think. Your knees threatened to buckle, but Wonwoo and Minghao had closed in on you and their torsos sandwiched you firmly upright.

“Tell us who you belong to, doll,” Hao’s lips nipped at your ear. The warm, wet whisper of breath made you dizzy and even though you knew the answer, you truly floundered as you tried to say it.

“Jeon Wonwoo! Xu Minghao!”

Both men cracked into a smile.

“Very good. Now shall we get some sleep? It’s been a long day,” Wonwoo teased.

“No!” you were surprised at the urgency with which your objection came out.

“Oh? So what is it that you want?” Wonwoo’s eyes raked over you.

“You know what I want,” you glared at him.

“I do. But I want you to use your words,” he patted your cheek condescendingly.

“I need you two to fuck me,” you answered, well past shameless at this point. You needed them and you’d do almost anything to get it.

“You won’t even be satisfied by one cock?” Hao laughed.

“Please, I’ve been go-,” you started to make your case, but you realized you didn’t have one. “Well, I’ve been waiting all night. Please.”

Wonwoo and Minghao both let out hearty laughs at your self-correction. Even if you weren’t always good, you’d always been honest, even to a fault.

“You have been waiting all night,” Wonwoo’s expression softened. “I suppose you can have what you want.”

“Really?” your eyes lit up.

They practically carried you to the bed, tossing you carelessly onto it. You watched, eyes glistening, as they undressed. Your thighs pressed together and you were surprised. With all of their teasing and torture, you’d completely forgotten that the toy was still inside of you. Wonwoo noticed at the same time that you did and he reached forward, plucking it from between your legs. He surprised you when he licked it, noting how you’d soaked it completely.

“Tasty,” he grinned, eyeing you hungrily as he set it aside.

You balked, ducking your head and flushing with disbelief. Hao chuckled at how you got shy before he slid his hands up your thighs and pushed your legs apart. His cock landed against your wet folds a few times as he teased you.

“Wow, completely drenched,” he groaned appreciatively as he watched your arousal coat his shaft. You squirmed, pushing your hips up towards him desperately. You needed more.

“Hao,” you mewled, grasping at his forearms. “No more teasing, please!”

Minghao chuckled. He might’ve been nicer than Wonwoo, but he still wasn’t that nice. He shifted to slide the tip of himself inside of you, but no further. Your brows knitted up with anticipation and then confusion when you realized what was happening. You tried pressing your hips up to take more of him, but he pulled back, managing to keep himself just barely inside of you.

“Minghao,” you huffed, clearly frustrated, but you kept trying, shifting your hips fruitlessly. It was as if you both held the ends of a rope and Minghao was doing his best to keep it just barely slack.

Wonwoo looked on with interest. He was surprised to see Hao in this kind of mood, but it would be a lie to say he didn’t enjoy it. Smiling, he moved to the other side of the bed, towards your head. He leaned over you, cupping your cheek softly.

“Wonwoo,” you clutched at him naturally, “Woo, please,” you begged.

“Sorry kitten,” Wonwoo cooed condescendingly at you, his lips whispering above yours as he watched you writhe. Sweat beaded up on your nose as you tried, again and again, to work yourself down Minghao’s cock.

“Hao, please,” your eyes watered as you looked at him, fraught with arousal.

The corner of Minghao’s lip turned up just a fraction before he bucked his hips towards you, thrusting deeply. The gasp you let out tickled his ego and he continued, stroking into you deeply. From Wonwoo’s vantage point, it would almost seem brutal, but both he and Minghao knew it was what you wanted and needed.

Wonwoo’s eyes narrowed as a wicked idea formed in his head. He leaned over you slightly and placed his palm against your lower abdomen, pressing down lightly.

“Wonwoo!” You and Minghao both let out jagged gasps at this additional pressure. Hao threaded his fingers through yours and after two more thrusts, orgasms ripped through you both.

“Bastard,” Hao cursed after he had caught his breath.

Wonwoo laughed. He’d certainly been called worse. As Minghao rolled off of you, he cupped your cheek again. Your eyes flicked up to him and he was surprised to see they were still full of want.

“More?” he asked.

“Want you, Woo,” you murmured affectionately, nuzzling your cheek against his hand.

“Insatiable,” he laughed, but it was something he adored about you. He and Minghao traded places and Wonwoo slotted himself between your legs. Minghao’s cum was starting to leak so he quickly gathered it up and pushed it back into you.

Minghao’s hands cupped your chin as Wonwoo slid into you. He watched your pupils dilate as your mouth fell open, letting out the most gorgeous whimpers and sobs. He allowed himself to be mesmerized by you for a few moments before he returned to the task at hand - to make you cum and cum and cum until you were completely spent.

Hao and Wonwoo got along great, but when it came to your dynamics as three, they were nothing if not competitive. Minghao’s hands brushed along your skin, bringing up goosebumps. When they rolled over your nipples, you clenched, which wrinkled Wonwoo’s brow just a hair. Minghao looked down to hide his smirk. That was easy.

“You’re so responsive. You must be sensitive, doll,” Hao cooed in your ear as he reached down to rub your clit with his fingertips. You jerked slightly at his touch, walls squeezing around Wonwoo again as Hao worked counterclockwise.

Your mouth fell open, letting out a series of short pants as Hao worked you quickly to another orgasm. Wonwoo’s brows pinched together as your pussy spasmed around him torturously. He managed to keep his resolve, but Minghao did not ease up, fingers rubbing again, this time slower and firmer.

“Hao,” you moaned as you sank into the mattress. They were really intent on wrecking you tonight, huh?

“Pretty little toy,” Minghao cooed in your ear, “You’ll take it, won’t you? Whatever we give.”

“Ahh!” you cried. His words were enough to push you over the edge again. You convulsed around Wonwoo as you came and Minghao was truly surprised to see him continue to buck into you, adding to your overstimulation.

You had barely managed a few lungfuls of air before it started again. Wonwoo’s hand came down to rest around your throat as he met your eyes. His gaze was intense and you could feel yet another orgasm building in you already. You bit down on your bottom lip. You didn’t need to use your safe word yet, but you were starting to wonder how much more you could take. You were brought out of your thoughts, however, when Minghao landed a loud, wet slap against your clit. The knob of heat in your belly exploded through you violently. Wonwoo grunted loudly as you triggered his orgasm and he unloaded deep inside of you as you came.

You didn’t pass out, but it felt like you were regaining consciousness as you caught your breath. You were sore, tired, and so utterly satisfied. You grinned up at Hao and Wonwoo happily, eyes creasing into semi-circles.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Wonwoo spoke first, shifting off you. “It’s been a long day.”

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” you asked as you settled into the pillows.

“What, still haven’t had enough?” Minghao teased, grabbing your chin gently.

“No plans yet,” Wonwoo answered. The toy he’d set on the nightstand earlier caught his eye. He picked it up and his eyes flashed at you playfully. “Maybe we’ll go out and make better use of this.”

You swallowed audibly.

#svthub #wonwoo smut #minghao smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #minghao fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #the8 smut #kpop smut #minghao fic #wonwoo fic #the8 fic #the8 fanfic #seungkwansphd:writes

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abiiors · 3 months

Text

chocolate // ross macdonald x reader

valentine's week - day 2: love potion

a/n: this is about abiior ross specifically hehe (short hair, shot beard etc) cw: use of aphrodisiacs against their knowledge (lets suspend our belief there), masturbation (f), implied voyeurism, unprotected sex oops (they're too horny to think it through) wc: 4k

sweet taste of chocolate dissolves on your tongue as elena continues to recount her latest holiday to belgium. she has that “just back from holiday” tan on her and you laugh along to her stories, popping another square of chocolate in your mouth while sorting through the pile of gifts she’s brought for everyone.

a heap of chocolate wrappers sits between the two of you and you’re certain you have enough sugar in you to feed a small village—still, the sweetness lingers on your tongue and makes you sigh wistfully every time you think about it.

“i’m seeing ross later,” you slip in quietly when she takes a breath between her rambling and elena’s eyes go round.

“seeing him seeing him? you finally asked him out?”

your head hangs in shame at the question and you can’t help the wince that leaves you. elena tsks. “oh babe, come on! he’s such a sweet guy and he clearly likes you back.”

“you don’t know that!”

several seconds pass and elena arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow. she’s right, you know she’s right. you’ve had this silly, desparate crush for six months now and you should have done the mature adult thing of asking him out. but your heart races every time he’s near and every single word in your head disappears along with all sane and rational thoughts.

“well,” you shrug, “can i take some chocolate for him? he’s got a sweet tooth.”

elena smirks and flicks your hand away before you can reach for one.

“only if you promise to ask him out. a coffee date. that’s as casual as it gets!”

you blanch at her but she stands her ground forcing you to at least mull it over in your head.

once again, she is right. you can ask him out for a coffee and pretend it’s just a friendly little thing if the vibes seem purely platonic. you’ll figure it out. you know you will.

scrunching your eyes shut, you give in. “fine… fine, i’ll do it.”

elena squeals, pulling you into a tight hug. you giggle at her excitement but let the butterflies take flight in your stomach. once she lets go, she points behind her.

“the fridge has a better selection. go take as many as you want.”

you’re out of the chair and halfway to the kitchen before she’s even done speaking, big goofy grin on your face at the thought of meeting him later and teasing him when he inhales the chocolates faster than humanly possible.

the fridge is messy as usual—half empty bottles of milk, some past their expiry date, opened bags of cheese and old chinese takeout. you ignore all of it and dig your way to the back to find the rest of them (in elena’s little hidden space in the fridge to keep it away from her boyfriend).

most of them are the usual ones and you take a few to put it in your bag. a new one catches your eye—it’s just a simple black square with a golden heart embossed on the cover, not one you’ve tried yet and it instantly piques your interest so you take two of them and put the bag back in its place.

then you close the fridge and make your way back to the living room.

the backstage at the band’s practice show is chaos incarnate. everyone’s in a rush to set up things in their proper place. the props are strewn on the stage, waiting for their permanent place, the instruments are neatly arranged in a corner and ross is leaning against the wall, cigarette in one hand, phone in the other. his thumb scrolls on his screen. a second later, he snorts, types something on his phone and you feel yours buzzing in your pocket with an incoming text.

it makes your silly heart skip a beat.

his head snaps up when you clear your throat. a warm smile spreads across his face, and he quickly stubs out his cigarette, tossing it into a nearby bin.

“didn't expect to see you here so bright and early," he says, pushing off the wall to approach you. at his full height, ross is nearly a head taller. on top of that, he’s been working out and staying fit, his beard’s sparser than it was before, his hair neatly cut and gelled back perfectly.

ross looks devastatingly handsome, a proper rockstar. you look like… you.

“wanted to see you–uh, see what you were getting up to,” you hope the breathlessness stays out of your voice, you hope he hasn’t noticed you blatantly checking him out.

all that goes flying out the window the moment he gathers you into a hug. his body is warm and solid, his t-shirt soft and familiar. the scent of his aftershave surrounds you thoroughly, invades all your senses until you just debate throwing all caution to the wind and jumping him right here.

the hug lasts longer than you would have expected.

when he pulls back there’s a faint flush on his cheeks (probably the heating, you rationalise) and a wide grin on his face.

“are you excited?”

“to watch you play? always!”

you cringe at how eager it sounds, how desperate. fortunately, ross giggles and offers you his arm.

“come on, let me give you a tour.”

twenty minutes later, you’re back where you started, arm in arm and excited about the concept of the new show, about their new setlist and the live debuts of some new tracks. ross is already beaming with excitement and his eyes crinkle in they way they do only when he’s genuinely happy. it’s infectious. more often than not you find yourself staring at him and giving him a loopy smile.

utterly fucking love-sick.

“jamie’s gone all out too,” he continues. “there’s a whole dressing arena for us even though this isn’t a real show. we wanted to try out a couple styles i guess.”

“oh, you’re a fashion icon now?” you tease and he rolls his eyes fondly.

“let me show you what patti’s got for us,” he offers and once again, you take his arm and follow him to some corner of the arena.

the dressing room is pretty much what you’d expected—a room full of mirrors and closet doors. there’s a sofa in the corner and bottles of water on the table. clothes are scattered across chairs and hanging on racks, each outfit carefully selected for the show, each outfit a statement aesthetic for every member on stage.

and that’s pretty much it.

you plop onto the sofa. moments later ross does the same, slinging an arm around your shoulder that’s almost-a-cuddle-but-not-really. you desperately pray he can’t hear your hammering heart that’s almost in your throat now. he’s so cool and casual, so comfortable in the silence. you on the other hand, desperately feel the need to fill it.

“elena’s back from her holiday. stole some chocolates from her stache for you.”

his playful grin returns and ross straightens eagerly. “you really are a sweetheart.”

the word does funny things to your insides, almost like there’s an entire flock of birds going haywire in there until his hands comes to rest on your knee and every thought in your head goes quiet.

“go on then, show us what you got.”

one by one you pull them out—bonbons and candy and silly little heart-shaped sweets that were everywhere in preparation for valentine’s day. his face lights up like a kid at christmas, he unravels the nearest sweet, moaning at its sweetness dissolving on his tongue just like you had.

you stare at him unabashedly.

“i got this too,” you pull out the two black squares, handing him one. “dunno what they are but they looked fancy enough. i haven’t tried them yet though.”

together, you unwrap them and look at the dark square inside. they look nothing special, they smell like regular dark chocolate too. perhaps they’re a little richer than the ones before, slightly better but he shrugs and moves on to the next bonbon.

you do the same.

if the arena was chaotic before, it’s damn near cocophonous now. somewhere, someone’s yelling for all the instruments to be moved. jamie and matty are in a heated discussion with a few other creative consultants. adam has his headphones in and he’s plucking something on the guitar. george is nowhere to be seen and ross is on stage making sure his bass is tuned just the way he wants it.

you take the moment to stare at him while he’s busy. a stubborn strand of hair escapes onto his forehead, falling into his eyes while he focuses on the bass in his hands. his mouth is parted in concentration, eyebrows scrunched together with an adorable little crease in between.

a quick thought flashes in your brain—what would it be like to walk up to him and straddle him right now? to set his bass aside and demand his attention in a way you’ve never even imagined before. to kiss away his frown until everyone and everything in the room fades away into the background.

the butterflies in your stomach come back with a vengeance. ross shifts in his seat.

“will you settle a debate for us, love?” matty’s voice startles you enough that you almost stumble back but he’s already passionately begun explaining the dilemma.

you try to focus on him, you really do. usually, it’s fun to give your input on things, fun to listen to his everchanging and eccentric ideas as he tries to explain his vision in a cohesive way. but your attention can’t stop drifting to the man on stage.

your eyes can’t seem to move away from his fingers as they pick string after string.

heat simmers under your skin at the sight of them. interestingly enough, ross fidgets with the collar of his t-shirt and wipes a few beads of sweat off his forehead.

“are you… listening?” matty snaps his fingers, his face contorted in a puzzled look while jamie looks on impatiently.

“sorry, i—”

before you have the chance to finish again, they’re back at each other’s throats, bickering like an old married couple. you don’t even notice when they walk away and their voices peter out. you keep your eyes trained on ross and the hollow of his throat and his hands. subconsciously, you clench your thighs together.

what the fuck is wrong with you.

this isn’t the time or place to be horny. and yet the more strings he plucks, they more it reverberates through your entire body and makes your head spin with lust and heat. this is getting out of control and you cannot fucking figure out the reason behind it.

hurriedly, you make your way back to the dressing room. it’s deserted by now—everyone including the band and the crew are by the stage. it’s your luck that the room isn’t locked, that not a single person seems to be in this part of the arena.

you chest heaves as you slam the door shut, beelining to the sofa in a fucking daze. the chocolate wrappers from before sit innocently in the bin in the corner. you struggle with a bottle of water, gulping in down in hopes that it would cool you just a little. some of it spills down your top, the cotton sticks to your skin and the feel of it against your nipples feels overwhelming. electric, if you are being honest.

curses spil from your lips as you throw yourself on the sofa, on the left side of it, where ross had sat before. your mind conjures up the scent of his aftershave again, the feel of his hand on your knee, and you imagine it trailing up—fingers testing and taunting until they’re at the waistband of your jeans. until they’re dipping inside your underwear and swiping through your slick folds.

your breath catches and your hand drifts to the crotch of your jeans.

maybe if you could just take the edge off a bit. maybe if you could just do this and then never think of it again and then go back to to your day and never look ross in the eye ever again. your cunt pulses in rhythm with your heartbeat, which is already racing faster than it should be.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think of him then. his body hovering on top of yours, pressing down on top of you until he sinks into you so deep that you feel him in your gut. you think of his lips, fucking perfect and so out of your leage. you think of the calloused pad of his fingers tracing your lip, your cupid’s bow.

against your better judgment, you sink further into the sofa, running your hands on your breasts, stomach, the insides of your thighs, all the while imagining how ross’ calloused fingers felt on your back and waist the countless times you'd hugged before. how they would feel in other places.

it’s fucking depraved but the thrill of it feels so sinfully good that you can’t stop your fingers from tracing circles over your clit—languid and loose.

your fingers feels too small, too soft. this isn’t what your body wants. it desperately craves him but he’s busy doing his actual job. your ears ring with the bloodrush and every touch against your skin feels like a zap of electricity passing through you.

one hand buried deep between your legs and the other kneading and massaging your nipples, you are on cloud nine. once or twice, you bite your lip to keep the moans down but what’s the point? the solid concrete walls would keep all the sounds inside anyway.

your pants fill the room, sweat gathers on your forehead and you feel it drawing closer, some semblance of a release at least. through the haze you see ross standing by the door, still as a statue, his mouth slightly open.

“ross…” you moan softly, willing this hallucination to come closer, to replace your hands with his, and finish what you started, but he doesn’t move.

a second passed by and then another, and then as if you’ve been doused with cold water, your entire body goes numb and cold.

he’s here. he’s not a hallucination or a figment of your lust-filled imagination, he is really. fucking. here.

you go cold and then hot again, sure that your entire face—hell, your entire body—has gone beetroot red. helplessly, you scramble to get your hands away from you, as if that would salvage anything at this point. as if that would wipe his memory of the last five minutes.

how did he even get here without you hearing so much as a creak? and you’d just moaned his name for fuck’s sake. the blood drains from your face, your heart stutters—this time for all the wrong reasons.

‘ross…’ your voice sounds all high-pitched and thin. all wrong and panicked.

ross only stalks toward you, deliberately slow and graceful, and stops a few inches away from the sofa. too far, the pervy part of your brain chimes in, he’s still standing a bit too far away. his eyes look dark and stormy, his face utterly fucking calm.

you try to suppress the tremor in your limbs, try to look anywhere but at him. (ideally, you try to look for something sharp to stab yourself with) and it’s then that your body betrays your entirely. slowly, as if against your will, your eyes slide down his body and linger on the bulge in his trousers. hard and prominent and fucking big enough to make you salivate despite the current situation.

“what are you doing here?” the words comes out as a weak whisper.

“watching you.”

his voice sounds deep and husky, with a dangerous edge to it. his eyes roam all over your body, or whatever’s visible of it—over your stomach and a sliver of underboob—and heat, more intense than you felt just minutes before, floods your entire body.

and yet, you still can’t look him in the eye.

“you are fucking stunning,” he breathes.

the words make your brain short-circuit. hastily, you try to cover your face, wishing for the earth to swallow you whole and spit you out into some parallel universe where ross just doesn’t exist anymore.

“oh, baby,” he tuts, moving closer until you’re face-to-face, and even now it isn’t enough. inspite of your humiliation, you want him closer, on top of you, and under your skin, and inside you, pounding into you until you are dumb and drooling.

he hooks a finger under your chin, tilting it up so that you have no choice but to look him in the eye. your mouth goes dry at the sight of them. his pupils are dilated to the point where his hazel eyes are almost completely black.

“don’t–don’t hide from me… you have no idea how long, i…” the rest of it dies on his lips when you whimper. your body feels liquid, blood flowing through your veins like molten lava, searing every inch of skin that’s begging for his touch.

��so touch me then,” the voice that comes out of you is pathetic, needy, but you can’t care less right now. if you had to stay in this state of limbo anymore the flimsy little thread holding the last of your sanity together would snap.

agonisingly slow, he pulls his t-shirt over his head. his chest gleams with sweat, tattoos starkly visible against his pale skin and you want to trace each and every one of them with your tongue, memorise all the grooves of his body with your fingers, fill up his scent into your lungs until it’s all you can smell.

just in his trousers now, he settles over you, knee pressed between your wide-open legs, brushing against your clothed clit. you hiss at the barest of touches. ross looking down at you is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, enough that you moan his name again. and again when he kisses you, softly at first and then harder, urgent and feverish.

his hands toy with the hem of your top and you nod fervently, eager to be rid of it. his tongue traces every inch of your mouth.

“just how i imagined you would taste,” he breathes in between kisses, and the words spear through the haze in your brain, burrowing themselves deep in there.

“you thought about how i’d taste?”

tenderly, he kisses your jaw, peppers a few more kisses on your cheek. “every moment of these last few months.”

you say something unintelligible, dumbstruck by how fucking sweet he sounds in the middle of everything. his hand trails up and down your spine, raising goosebumps in their wake, while his mouth continues to kiss your jaw, your neck, your cleavage. all you can do is tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him as close as you possibly can. unable to take it any longer, you fumble with the buckle of his belt, undoing the button and unzipping his trousers till you can palm him through his boxers. in spite of them still covering him, you moan at how big he feels, how deliciously thick and hard.

something in him snaps at the sound. it’s as if he’d been holding back until now, but now he grabs the hem of your top and slips it clean off you. his discarded trousers join the small heap on the floor and he takes one of your nipples in his mouth while pinching the other between his fingers.

“i need you inside me. please ross…”

“ride me,” he says instantly and you nod, flipping until he’s on the sofa and you’re on his lap, fumbling to get out of your jeans and underwear while he pulls his boxers down.

with one hand around your waist, ross lifts you up until his tip’s grazing your cunt. “go on darling, you can take me,” his voice trembles with barely controlled restraint. and you might as well be his puppet because you obey instantly, sinking onto him until he’s deep inside you, until you feel the delicious stretch and burn.

your gasp makes him groan.

his fingers grip your face gently, moving it to make you look at the giant mirrors next to you, at your bodies locked together.

“look at you…” he moans and thrusts up into you. you mewl at the suddenness of it, but it’s impossible to look away from the image in the mirror. you bouncing on his cock, rutting and moving your hips, shamelessly chasing ecstasy. his face slack with pleasure, his eyes roaming all over your body, taking in every inch of it while you take in every inch of him.

his thrusts are slow in the beginning, punishing almost and you try to increase the pace, digging your nails into his shoulders, until he’s smiling smugly at all the desperately written so clearly all over your face.

“faster,” you almost beg and he obliges instantly, going deeper and deeper with each thrust. his fingers work at your clit again; pinching and rubbing, until you can no longer look at the mirror, can’t look at anything as your eyes roll back into your head and stars wink on the insides of your lids.

filthy words fill the room mixed with groans and moans from both of you. it almost feels like a trance—to feel him so deep inside you that your head buzzes, pleasure coild in your belly and you squirm and writhe, trying to feel more of him, greedy and insatiable.

heat builds in your stomach, the feeling from before starts at the base of your spine again, travelling up until it’s spreading throughout your body, to your fingertips. from the way ross’ thrusts turn wild and erratic, you know he’s close too.

“you feel so good, so–so fucking perfect,” you tell him, trying to get the words out in between moans and gasps.

“oh baby,” he coos, “we are fucking perfect together, aren’t we.”

frantically, you nod, capturing his mouth in another feverish hot kiss. “yes, yes.”

because that’s what you’ve been dying to hear for months now, dying to know that he felt the same want and yearning you did.

when the orgasm finally hits, you almost black out, eyes rolling to the back of your head. your loud moans fill the room, overshadowing any sounds he makes, but you’re too far gone to care. the sound undoes him within moments and ross thrusts hard into you, cumming with a loud groan. you feel the cum spilling in you and running down your thighs, sticky and wet.

vaguely, you’re aware if slumping forward and pressing your face into his chest. ross strokes your hair softly until you can get your breathing back to normal.

you giggle in his chest when the conversation with elena springs back into your mind. it feels so far away now, like it happened days ago instead of hours ago.

“what?” ross asks, sounding a bit amused.

“i was supposed to ask you out for coffee. elena dared me, in exchange for the chocolate.”

he giggles at your answer, pressing a quick kiss on your head, which instantly makes your heart melt.

“those chocolates were… something.”

you snort. that’s one way to put it. finally, you pull away, looking at him properly for the first time. his face is flushed and coated in sweat but he looks… happy. more than you’ve seen him before.

“so… coffee?” you bite your lip, irrationally shy now of all times.

ross kisses you in response, sweet and slow, a proper chaste kiss as if you’re not sat on his lap, still naked and dripping with his cum. but you kiss him back equally slow, giggling like a teenager.

“like you have to ask.”

lemme know what you think <33

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