#i will be around tomorrow for plotting and shit

[kamospeach]

(any pics without tags are bc i didn't know who they belonged to!)

plot: suguru's getting antsy, his ex-lover isn't looking his way on the field anymore

content warning:my sweet sugu is a little perverttt (we won't be seeing that yet), angstyyy, i love writing about trust issues and character development

dean's (aka peachy) yap: the last of the angst i promiseeee

“touchdownnnn!” the announcer yelled through the speakers of the stadium. that was the sound of the star football player of your university throwing a 45-yard pass. this was his third time making a play like that in this game alone. you wish you weren’t even there at this specific moment and time. you hated having to cheer on your ex as he won yet another game.

so it started a cycle, geto threw a pass, and you cheered. a pattern that was performed every saturday, in your home stadium or away. your reaction was what fueled his passion to play. yeah, you heard me right, he made plays and did the most because of you. whenever he assisted a touchdown, there you were cheering on his team. i mean, you had no choice, of course.

so that was why whenever suguru did something in the game, he’d look at you, always finding you looking right back at him. he read you like a book he knew you missed him, that or he was too cocky to admit that he missed you and he was now projecting. 

when the game was over, you sat around with the cheer team, talking about any and everything. the football team had won, of course, thanks to suguru’s never-ending efforts. before the game, suguru asked you to stay behind so both of you could talk. 

if you weren’t still slightly in love with him, you would've said no, but here you were waiting behind just to see him. he sauntered out hair down, wife-beater, and sweats. he walked towards you with a cockiness that clearly showed he was expecting you to stay behind.

“what?” was all you said, and he smirked. he had always loved your fiestiness.

“how did i do?” he asked, getting closer to you so he could tower over you. suguru was a self-proclaimed pervert; he liked seeing you look up at him. it reminded him of all the times you were on your knees, lips wrapped around his-

“seriously?” you scoffed, walking away from him, and he grabbed your arm. “let me go sugu… i mean- suguru- geto? fuck it just let me go.” you were conflicted on what to call him and he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t love the way you said his name.

“you can still call me sugu…” he says, letting go of you like you asked. “you’ve always liked calling me that,” he gave you his signature smile, and you laugh. it wasn’t funny, but the audacity of this man was hilarious. he knew you saw him as goofy, at least that’s what you called him when the two of you broke up anyway.

“really? you care what i like now? you’re full of shit geto.” you spat turning around walking to your friends. they were waiting for you so you all could go get ready for the after-party.

“ya okay love?” your friend asked, rubbing your shoulder, knowing how you get about geto. you

were very, very, very in love with him. you would do anything for him. he knew that you knew that, and yet your relationship still failed.

“i’m fine, yeah.” you say as you look out the window, reminiscing on the times you and suguru spent together, the breakup, all of it.

4 months ago

“see you tomorrow!” you yelled out to the other girls on your cheer team. practice was over, and you waited in your car for suguru to get out. he had a spring football game tomorrow, a few hours away from the university. you were supposed to cheer at the basketball championship game, so the two of you won't be able to spend time together.

so you waited an hour after your practice for suguru, the clock finally hit 8, meaning they should be done. but one hour turned into two, and two into three, three into four, and so on. you ended up falling asleep, and when you woke up, it was 1 am, going on 2. you checked your phone, seeing one text from suguru.

‘can’t come practicing late.’ 

he sent that at 9:30, about 45 minutes after you had fallen asleep. no missed calls, no extra texts, nothing. he didn’t even try to make sure you were safe, and that was the worst. so, without hesitation, you made your way to his apartment. 

you were prepared to make a scene, sure you had shame and self-control, but not today. you were about to make sure this conceited cocky- the door swung open to suguru with his eyes half closed. just boxer's, hair messy, and sleep in his eyes.

“you open the door like this for everyone?” you asked, and he just blinked, not sure what you were doing at his apartment. “why did you text me instead of calling me and telling me you weren’t coming anymore?” you asked, and he cleared his throat.

“thought you were asleep, so i just texted you and hoped you’d see,” he said voice still groggy, and he rubbed his eyes trying to adjust to all the lights you turned on around the apartment. “i didn’t get in until 12 anyway.”

“so you practiced until 10?” you asked, lightweight, not believing him, and he sighed, nodding.

“it’s our first game back since the fall, of course, i want to do the best i can,” he explained, and you nodded. you both were working on your trust issues he was getting better but you seemed to be stagnant. 

“i don’t like when you don’t respond it makes me over think.” you explained trying to use your hands to further explain your point. his face was deadpanned almost as if he was angry at you. 

“look no offense but i don’t care about what you like or whatever. we were supposed to work on our trust and i’ve done that for you but if you can’t focus on improving with me then do it without me.” he ranted and your eyes got wide. was that his shitty way of breaking up with you.

“are you breaking up with me?” you asked confused and he shook his head dropping on the couch. he didn’t say much just ran his hand through his hair as he thought.

“i’m not, i’m just saying that you’ve been fine since we’ve been close together for a while. we got together when things were slow and when i wasn’t as busy. so you haven’t had a chance to work on your trust issues, and so i guess the blame is halfway on me,” he grumbled head still in his hands and you stood there frozen as you listened to him. 

“so do you think i’m better off leaving then?” you raise a brow and suguru sighs with a shrug.

“i think i’m stunting your growth. if we do break up it would only be because i want you to be better,” he admitted. truthfully suguru didnt know the best decision himself. he wanted to be your boyfriend and to graduate with you, he even thought about after. how a few years later he’d work on getting married to you. but if you can’t trust him you’d just suffocate him.

“so then let’s breakup. that’s what you want that’s what we’ll do.” you nodded tears now running down your face. you wiped your tears but it was futile as the waterfall poured. suguru knew your crying voice and took it upon himself to engulf you in a hug.

“i don’t want to but i love you and i want you to trust me the way i trust you, before i end up resenting you.” he whispered in your ear and you nodded. you both pulled away from the hug he wiped your tears kissing your lips one more time before you left.

present time

the party was everything you expected it to be, loud, smelly, hot, and chaotic. you liked it because it meant you were bound to get crossfaded. you and your friends held each other’s hand as you navigated through the dense crowd. once you made it to the kitchen of the frat house drinks on drinks were poured. 

you were throwing shots back like there was no tomorrow wanting to forget about suguru for a while. but just your luck you had a filthy nerdy leech that was a constant reminder. satoru gojo. 

“what are you doing here?” you asked satoru who shrugged looking just as confused as you. 

“suguru invited me i’m just tagging along. met a girl too, she invited me so i’m following the crowd i guess you could say.” he laughed and you nodded understanding. you were kind of in the same situation as him just following the crowd.

“i getcha.” you say as you passed him a shot that was passed to you and he denied it. you shrugged your shoulders taking both shots in front. “well looks like my crowd moving, see you later yeah?” 

“yeah see ya.” he smiled as you walked away with your friends and they went to hang out with the football players. as if running into satoru wasn’t enough now you’re sitting in a circle of people. and dead across from you is suguru who was smiling and laughing with his friends.

the lighting was great but just for him, his jawline was enhanced in the light. this couldn’t be real here you are drunk (and in the process of getting high) staring at your ex almost lovingly. minutes were going by and your were getting higher and higher. and while you were getting crossfaded suguru was getting finer and finer. you felt it was practically illegal to feel this way about someone who you were no longer romantically affiliated with.

“are you okay?” one of your friends asked and you sent him a small smile.

“just peachy.” you mumbled standing up to go get water until someone came up to you. you’ve never seen him before but he was clearly flirting. his words were started to blend together and his face was almost not even there. he started to sound like a friend you knew so your body became laxed.

his hands gripped your waist and you spoke with him casually. you were now drinking whatever your ‘friend’ had poured for you. all you knew is that your blinking felt extra slow and the floor was spinning. 

after a while your friend who asked if you were okay came looking for you. he was getting suspicious as to what took you so long to come back outside with the group. until he saw your almost limp body leaning on some guy who he had never seen before either. he stormed towards the two of you both snatching the drink out of your hand. 

“what are you doing?” he asked you and you shrugged not even sure who he was at this point. he watched your behavior and then looked up at the man who was with you. “who the hell are you?”

“does it matter? who the hell are you?” he copied his question whispering in your ear to calm you down. but now it felt weird and your brain seemed to register that you may or may not be in danger. 

“do you even go to this school? i’ve never seen you before.” he questioned the man and his body became stiff against yours. strangely this was the only thing he did that raised red flags for you.

“so? do you know everyone at this school or somethin’?” he grumbled and your friend found him suspicious so he grabbed you arm to pull you away from the man but he didn’t get anywhere with that. “don’t touch her, come on let’s go. you do want to leave with me right?” he asked you and your head slowly tilted to the side as you looked up at him. you were still struggling to make out his face.

“no you won’t, she doesn’t even know you, she’s coming with me.” he said lightly pulling you towards him. you were now caught inbetween the two men one wrist in the strangers hand and the other in your friend’s.

“i-...” was all you could manage before you heard a voice. the only voice that you could identify throughout the foggy haze that was your brain.

“neither of you will be taking her home.” he said as he walked over to you. you didn’t need to see suguru’s face to know it was his. his long hair was enough for you to know it was the man you once and still do love.

“sugu…” you said walking towards him and the two men had no choice but to let you go. before you knew it suguru had his hand around your waist.

“he didn’t hurt you did he?” he asked and you shook your head. even though you weren’t exactly sure how you got into all of that. you both made your way outside to his car that you wasted no time getting. he pressed the 1 button, and it immediately went to your settings, the way you liked it.

“you never took that off?” you asked looking up at him with eyes that had him questioning his actions 4 months ago.

“why would i? this’s your seat.” he said putting on your seatbelt but before the door closed you had to say one more thing.

“thank you, sugu.”

“anything for you.” was all he said before he closed the door and got in the driver’s seat to take you home.

to be continued...

one two three four five six

university masterlist

taglist (open):

@grignardsreagent @stardollwrites @keraawrites @soldmysoulto @k-a-m232 @ac27dj @buttershea07 @ane5e @satorupied @charminstasia @miksolosss @nanamisbbygirl @beabamboo @sweetshrew @gurllss @rhicambo @v3rdee @vamppirez @y8zuriha @probablynotleahhhh @snapcracklen @emma-37 @thabiddie23 @sunset-euphoria @ami-s-k @angelita-uchiha @antikaiii @meganwiththebody @certifiedchangbinlover @desirehorizon @meowshiki

[antihcroes]

with speak now tv out now, i am once again asking, begging on my knees, for a back to december based angst/plot/ship whatever. like please, i want it terribly & i am a fan of happy endings so we can make them endgame. but i’ve been wanting this for literal years, if you’re interested pls hit me up -

[normaltothemax]

Stayed home sick and I feel like I should be doing something but I also feel guilty about doing stuff bc I stayed home sick

[deathofacupid]

r/ HOW TO BABY-TRAP YOUR FRIENDS-WITH-BENEFITS ROOMMATE!

I'M A BAD MAN, I DO WHAT I CAN! — if you were to ask them, it's not their fault. it's not their fault you're practically a goddess, ethereal, really. the thing is, though, you didn't do relationships, just didn't have a reason to. you'd always preferred the no-strings-attached, the clean simplicity. ah, well, they'll give you a reason.

★ satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, choso kamo, toji fushiguro, ryomen sukuna.

warnings — well, báby-trápping. obsessive, pathetic, yearning men. pórn following, barely, a plot. áfab!reader. óverstimulatión, dégrading, dúmbification, sqúirting, breedíng. age gaps. chóking, óral (m/f receiving). fíngeríng. dóm!characters. nón-con/dúb-con. use of alćohol. unprótected séx. lying, manipulation. out-of-character, i guess. ...not toji abandoning megumi, just to go off and have another kid. 3.5k+ words!

(呪術廻戦) : note — concept based off of @indiewritesxoxo's work (luv u bae <33), divider credits to @cafekitsune.

★ SATORU GOJO

"oh, c'mon," he coos, a pout framing his lips, but his eyes tell a different story. "jus' wanna feel you. i promise i'll pull out." satoru's hovering above you, tapping his slick, throbbing tip against your clit, sending a jolt of electricity through your core.

"satoru, no," you say, trying to keep your voice steady, but the heat radiating off him is making your resolve crumble. he's right there, so close, and your body is screaming for him.

"baby, i promise," satoru pleads. he pleads. he's pleading. are you supposed to just, like, say no?

you tug your bottom lip between your teeth, arms still wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. he lowers himself, capturing your mouth in a deep, wet kiss, his tongue exploring your depths with a possessive urgency.

"you have to. you can't cum inside, okay?" you warn, giving in, though your voice is thick with desire. he was clearly adamant about this, refusing to budge. if this was going to go down his way, you'd rather it happen quick.

"yeah, yeah," satoru says, waving you off dismissively, his attention already focused on the prize. the second you give him the go-ahead, he's lining himself up between your thighs, his cock throbbing at your entrance. slowly, deliberately, he pushes himself inside, groaning as he stretches you.

you moan, digging your nails into his back, the sharp sting a welcome sensation. no matter how many times you fuck him, you won't ever get used to his size. satoru fills you completely, the snugness of your wet cunt a tight, hot embrace.

"y— you take me s'good, pretty thing." his voice is gravelly and low, as he looses himself to your wet heat.

the pace increases, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder, each stroke a raw, animalistic possession. you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut, your body arching beneath him.

satoru can feel himself getting closer, can feel the way his abdomen tightens, the telltale signs of his release. you can feel him getting closer too, with the way his thrusts grow shaky, and lose their rhythm.

"ngh, wait," you whimper, it's a lazy thought, on the tip of your tongue, but with the way he's got you all dumbed-down, you can't find the strength to push them out.

"shh," he grunts, pressing sloppy kisses to the side of your neck. "s'fine, just — fuck, we'll get you a plan-b, or s— some shit."

you protest weakly, but it's lost in the wave of pleasure washing over you. it's not like you could do more if you wanted (do you even want to?), because you're climaxing first, convulsing around his cock, sucking him in. he follows soon after, thick ropes of cum flooding you, filling you completely.

and, if he was "getting" you that plan-b tomorrow, anyways, he might as well fuck his seed in deeper, right?

★ SUGURU GETO

the tang of cheap vodka clings to you, the bitterness sharp on his tongue. friday night. finally, a chance to unwind.

"not drinking?" you slur, the buzz already softening the edges of the world for you.

"i did," he breathes, his teeth dragging a wet, sucking trail up the side of your neck. he knows the mark he's leaving will bloom into a dark bruise by morning.

you try to form a coherent question, but the insistent throb between your legs steals your focus, a desperate, undeniable ache for him.

and he has drunk. enough to dull the edges of his conscience, a low hum of justification thrumming beneath his skin. you're practically melting into the couch, head lolling, lips slack and damp, a familiar, flushed heat creeping up your chest. suguru isn't inebriated like you are, but… he's something like that.

so, he isn't doing anything wrong, right?

no, of course not.

you moan, a needy sound that vibrates against his chest, your hands fisting in his shirt, tugging him closer. "f— fuck, just put it in already, suguru, please," you whimper, the words thick with desire and drink. his fingers slide down, parting the wet folds of your vulva, one thumb pressing insistently against your swollen clit.

suguru chuckles, "since you're begging so nicely." the slick, engorged head of his cock, dark red and leaking pre-cum, nudges against your slick entrance, catching on the delicate hood. he isn't in the mood for foreplay, not really. he wants to be buried inside you, now.

besides, it's not like you need it.

with a deliberate slide, he pushes into your tight heat. you gasp, a surprised sound that tightens your grip on him.

your wet cunt clenches around his length, milking him with each involuntary spasm. a guttural groan tears from his throat. your hands tangle in his hair, nails lightly scraping his scalp in that way he fucking loves.

"oh, fuck, princess," he bites out, his voice thick with lust. "easy, you're gonna swallow me whole."

"i— i'm trying," you whimper, your body arching slightly as you try to accommodate the sheer size of him stretching you open.

suguru pauses, giving you a scant second to adjust, his selfishness overriding any real concern for your comfort. he wants you stretched, tight, around his cock.

slowly, he withdraws, not quite all the way, the sudden coolness making you whimper, before thrusting back in, deeper this time. "goddamn, so fucking tight."

you're stretched taut, every muscle in your body clenching around him. his pace quickens, his hips slamming against yours with a wet, smacking sound.

"sugu!" you cry out, your voice raw and breathy. shit, he thinks, his cock throbbing harder, you sound like a fucking angel when you say my name like that.

like it's the only word left in your drunken vocabulary. and with his cock filling you so completely, blurring the edges of your already drunken mind, it probably is.

you cum first, a shuddering wave that rips through your body, your back arching off the couch. moans, wet and desperate, spill from your parted lips — his favorite sound in the world.

he's right behind you, the frantic clenching of your muscles pushing him closer to the edge. he knows he should pull out, the thought flickers through his mind, a habitual safety measure.

but he doesn't.

his orgasm rips through him, a violent shudder that locks his jaw. he comes, deep and hot, his thick, white seed flooding your insides, painting the walls of your cunt.

you're too far gone, too lost in the aftershocks of your own climax and the lingering haze of alcohol, to register the subtle change, the lack of resistance.

and if you aren't saying anything, his mind reasons, why should he?

★ KENTO NANAMI

"shit, darling, you're so tight f'me," kento groans, bucking his hips into you. his breath hitches, a sheen of sweat coating his skin. blonde hair is plastered to his forehead, and he's covered in sticky lipgloss from your mouth.

but, fuck, he's never looked so good.

your eyes hit the back of your head, tears trailing down your cheeks, and he kisses them away.

his pace is cruel, heavy balls hitting your ass, with every thrust. "k— ken," you whimper, stretching out his name. he doesn't miss, not even a goddamn millimeter, that thick, insistent head slamming directly into your sweet spot with every vicious grind of his hips.

kento's on the edge of sanity. this is pure, unadulterated bliss. this is how it's meant to be – your slick heat engulfing him completely, no flimsy rubber barrier between.

he wants to bury himself so deep he hits bone, to feel those tight, wet walls clench and spasm around his cock until he fucking explodes. and the knowledge that he's the only son of a bitch who can make you come undone like this?

it's a goddamn aphrodisiac.

you're stretched wide, impaled, filled so completely it feels like you might tear. your slick little cunt is working overtime, desperately trying to accommodate his thick length and the violent force of his thrusts. his slams are sloppy, given an impending release.

"do you— do you even know what you do to me?" he asks, and you think it's rhetorical. not that you could in answer, save for anything but nonsensical babbles.

he's surprised he's even made it this long, raw in you, without cumming already. you're like a little toy for kento, utterly helpless and deliciously broken beneath him, and the sight of it — your flushed skin, your parted lips, the way your body bucks and trembles — sends a fresh wave of white-hot lust surging through him.

beautiful, that would be his choice word. gorgeous. heavenly. a taste of gold, honey-sweet on his tongue. and, that taste? incredibly deep, to the point where the world itself lost richness.

"please, ah, please," you whine, unsure, yourself, what you're asking for. less? more? either way, he doesn't give you much of a choice, his thick, throbbing cock continuing its relentless, brutal assault on your soaked, aching pussy.

he grips the headboard so hard his knuckles are stark white, the old wood groaning and splintering under his white-knuckled grip. oh, fucking christ.

what have you done to him? how in the goddamn hell is he ever going to go back to vanilla, wrapped-up sex after this primal, skin-on-skin connection?

"c— cum inside," you moan, wrapping your legs around his waist.

his heart stops, he swears it. he wasn't expecting you to say that, not at all. he's driving his cock into you with a brutal, bone-jarring speed that he knows will leave you deliciously sore and gloriously immobile for days. "fuck, yeah? you want that?"

"yeah, yeah, i'm— i'm on the pill," you gasp, the words a breathless, desperate affirmation.

and, well, who is he to deny the love of his life? you were on a pill, after all. it just wasn't what you thought it was. on the bright side, his switcheroo left you with a good intake of vitamin d.

★ CHOSO KAMO

choso's not thinking about it, not really. not when you're riding him like this, your wet heat gripping him, squeezing him dry. especially not when he feels you clench around his cock, those little spasms that make his vision blur.

he'd tried the nice way, the pathetic puppy-dog eyes. begged you to just skip the rubber this once. but you were firm, always so fucking responsible. "condom, choso." like it was a goddamn negotiation.

so, if you trace it back, this isn't on him. those pinprick holes in the wrapper of the condom? definitely not him. nope, not a chance.

he's not thinking about it because in his head, it's already done. it's a family, right? that's the end goal. just you and him, and a couple of little ones running around. twins.

he pictures it sometimes, a little girl with your stubborn streak, a boy with his quiet intensity. he'd love them both, messy and loud and his.

his family. the thought slams into him as you grind down, your slick folds rubbing against him. he's not even fully inside his head anymore, just the raw, animal urge.

you'd be a fucking incredible mother, he knows it. the way you care for that stupid houseplant, the way you fuss over him when he's got a headache.

choso's breath hitches, his fingers digging into the slick skin of your waist, holding on for dear life. your tits bounce with each ride, nipples hard and pink, your head thrown back, a guttural moan escaping your throat.

nothing. nothing beats this. "fuck," he grunts, eyes rolling back in his head. he's lost track of time, of everything but the wet friction, the desperate clench of your muscles. "don't fucking stop," he begs, his voice thick and rough.

"'m not gonna," you pant, your hips bucking against his rhythm.

choso grips your thighs tighter, like if he loosens his hold, you'll vanish. "shit… i think… fuck, i'm close."

"cho— oh, god, me too!" just as your orgasm hits, that tight, shuddering squeeze, he flips you over, his heavy body looming above you.

he keeps fucking you, driving deep as your cries turn into whimpers, your body convulsing around his cock. you're slick with sweat and tears, overstimulated, trying to push him off, but he just keeps pounding.

tears spill down your temples, soaking into the pillow. another sob rips from your throat. good. more wetness. more of him going in. you feel another knot building. works for him, he'll plant his seed deep, twice the load now.

he already loves you. this is his clumsy, fucked-up way of showing it. of making you his. you'll understand, someday.

★ TOJI FUSHIGURO

"there aren't any left," toji shrugs, gesturing with a lazy flick of his wrist towards the empty drawer.

"what the fuck do you mean, 'none left'?" you ask, your brow furrowing. "i swear i just bought a new box!"

he clicks his tongue, a familiar sound of his nonchalance. "gone. nada. zip."

"no, but— there can't be none. what about your wallet? you used to carry a bunch around everywhere, right?"

"don't need to anymore, do i? got you now, ma," he grins, a flash of something predatory in his eyes, followed by a low chuckle that rumbles in his chest.

"look at that. slut reformed," you scoff, though a hint of a smile plays on your lips. "well, then, go take a cold shower."

"what?" he groans, the sound laced with genuine displeasure. "c'mon, just let me—"

"absolutely fucking not. there's no way in hell i'm letting you hit it raw."

"it's just sex, though," he argues, a petulant edge to his voice.

"yeah, sure, 'just sex' — unprotected — that'll leave you knee-deep in diapers," you mutter, rolling your eyes.

"wouldn't be the worst thing," he mumbles, the words a low rumble just beneath your ear.

"what'd you say?" you ask, shifting on his lap, your position suddenly more precarious. his hands tighten on your waist, anchoring you there.

"nothin'. doll, i'll make it worth your goddamn while," he says, his voice dropping to a husky drawl that sends a shiver down your spine.

"no," you say, a weak protest as you try to squirm away, the heat suddenly rising between your thighs. "i'm serious, toji."

"i'm dead serious, too, sweetheart. i know you're soaked for me," he teases, his fingers digging slightly into your hips, a possessive and undeniably tantalizing move.

"toji," you whine, your voice losing some of its firmness, "go get condoms, and then—"

"tch. ain't got the patience for that shit right now."

"there's a gas station, like, a block away, if your dick's about to explode."

"or, you just sit back, spread those pretty legs, and let the pill do its damn job."

"no. it's not one-hundred percent, you idiot."

"for fuck's sake," he grumbles, the playful tone vanishing as he suddenly flips you over with strength, pinning your wrists above your head against the mattress.

"toji!" you gasp, a mix of surprise and a thrill you don't want to admit. "foul play, you bastard. foul game."

his thick head nudges against your slick folds, a wet, insistent pressure that makes you suck in a sharp breath. "don't think your pretty little head too much about it," he growls, his voice full with lust.

he shoves into you, a raw, stretching sensation that makes you cry out. "fucking… ahhh," he groans, the lone sound primal.

"s— shit!" you cry, your hips bucking involuntarily as you try to accommodate his size. the sheets twist beneath you as you writhe, the initial discomfort quickly morphing into a desperate, needy ache. coherent thoughts dissolve, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of him filling you completely.

he feels thicker, rougher, more. every thrust is deeper, more insistent, and the friction ignites a fire in your core. when he finally comes, it's a guttural sound ripped from his throat, his body shuddering against yours as he spills his seed deep inside.

as for the full box of condoms, he'll just make sure he takes out the trash, before you get to it.

★ RYOMEN SUKUNA

funny as fuck, he thinks, watching the way your breath hitches, how your eyes are already glazed over with lust and exhaustion. he hasn't even started yet, and you're practically begging. a slow, cruel smile spreads across his face as he takes in the flushed heat creeping up your neck. his own cock throbs, anticipating the tight squeeze.

"you look good like that," he informs you, his voice a low, gravelly purr, his gaze raking over your exposed skin. "all undone for me."

"'kuna," you whine again, a desperate sound that barely forms a word. you lift your hips off the bed, a small, frantic movement that screams for release.

he's right there, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your slick walls, but he remains frustratingly still, savoring your desperation.

he reaches out, his knuckles grazing your damp cheek, a possessive, almost taunting touch. he watches the way your pupils dilate, the frantic pulse in your throat. he enjoys this, the power he holds in this moment.

finally, with a sigh that sounds almost bored, he decides to grant your silent plea. he braces his hands on either side of your head and thrusts into you, a deep, forceful slide that makes you gasp.

you're so tight, so wet, and for a fleeting second, the intensity of your grip makes him think he might just lose it right there.

"shit, brat," he grits out, his breath hot against your ear. "can feel you milking me already. fucking needy, aren't you?" he pauses, letting you writhe beneath him. "beg for it."

"i— please, 'kuna… fuck…" your words are broken, barely coherent.

his hand drops lower, his fingers splaying across your throat, his thumb pressing just hard enough to restrict your breathing, a subtle reminder of his control.

his other hand clamps possessively onto your breast, his thumb and forefinger pinching your nipple through the thin fabric, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. your head thrashes against the pillow, a choked sound rising in your throat, a mixture of pain and pleasure.

with each deliberate, grinding thrust into your slick cunt, he feels the knot in his gut tighten, the edge drawing closer. he can feel you too, the frantic clenching of your inner muscles mirroring his own rising tension. your nails dig into his shoulders, your body arching with each deep stroke.

just as his senses overload, just as his control threatens to shatter, he pulls out with a harsh sound, the slick head of his cock glistening in the dim light.

he snatches the condom, ripping it off with a swift, almost violent motion. your eyes fly open, confusion and a flicker of protest in their depths. but before you can utter a word, he slams back into you, burying himself even deeper, raw and unprotected.

he feels the shudder rip through his body, his jaw clenching as he orgasms. he's cumming, hot and thick, flooding your insides, marking you in a way that goes beyond the physical.

he feels the desperate contractions of your own climax still gripping him, a final, exquisite torture.

he collapses against you, his weight heavy, his breath ragged. he can feel the slick warmth of his seed mingling with your own wetness. he doesn't say a word, doesn't need to.

the act itself is his declaration. you're his now, in a way you can't deny. and there's not a goddamn thing you can do about it.

❛ all works belong to deathofacupid, do not steal/plagiarize/repost. ❜

[tobeholyistobeempty]

joel miller • be quiet, or i’ll make you

“Tightest pussy I ever had. Goddamn. You wanna feel good, huh? I’ll make you feel good. Just lemme’ have it nice n’ deep, and I’ll get you back later. Let you sit on my face for hours. Make you cum till’ you’re cryin.”

WARNINGS - smut smut smut mdni, porn with some plot, forced proximity, feral!joel, risky/secret sex, brutal sex, size!kink, dubcon if you squint but mostly a mutual want situation, reader and joel have an unspoken relationship, copious amounts of dirty talk, piv, creampie, daddy dom joel.

The world ended in disaster.

You’ve lived with that knowledge for years now, and you think you’ve finally come to terms with the kind of things you’ll get from it. Pain. Loss. Destruction. The same chaos, day in day out, just in different forms.

You know that at this point you’ll be lucky if you survive until tomorrow; so you take it in stride.

And it’s with that thought that you find yourself following Joel into the city, your steps just as reluctant as he was to agree to this. You don’t particularly want to be out here — and neither does he — but you’ve been wanting to look for more medical supplies for a while now and Joel wasn’t about to let you go alone. Despite how much bitchin’ he did beforehand.

You can’t tell which is more depressing; the streets covered in broken glass and littered with remnants of a life long gone, or the buildings that are nearly crumbling to the ground. Neither are very pleasant to look at, but not many things are these days, so you keep moving. You have a job to do, and you don’t have too much time to do it — the sun won’t be up much longer, and you want to get the fuck out of here before the real dangerous kinds of people come out lookin’ for their next meal.

Or, whatever Joel had said earlier. Mostly just in attempt to scare you.

Minutes feel like hours as you keep your gaze pointed forward, and when you pass a shattered window belonging to some old broken down building, you don’t dare look inside.

You’d rather not know what lingers inside death eaten walls.

But it’s while you’re doing that, keeping your gaze ahead, that you miss the fact that Joel has stopped walking. When it finally registers that the world around you has gotten quieter - and when you finally do turn around - you’re surprised for two reasons.

The first being that he even stopped at all, and the second being the fucking look on his face.

“You alright?” You ask as you edge closer, glancing at the abandoned building that’s in front of him. It doesn’t look like anything remarkable, but there’s definitely something in the way he stares at it. “Joel, you still with me?”

He isn’t saying anything, his expression is rather blank — but you know him well enough to know that he’s not just seeing what’s right in front of him. He’s seeing something else entirely. He snaps back to attention faster than you would have expected at the sound of your voice, and when his eyes land down on yours - there’s something inside them that makes your heart sink.

“Somethin’s wrong.” Is all he says before he’s grabbing your wrist, and yanking you inside.

Your heart starts pounding faster, but you try your best to stay calm. He isn’t the kind of man who would panic without cause, so you know he must have seen something - or heard something - and you’re doing your best not to let that scare you.

“Joel—shit—what the hell—“ you stumble over rubble and pieces of broken furniture. “What’re you—“

He’s pulling you deeper into the building, not giving you a chance to stand still long enough to say more. When you get to a staircase he yanks you down a few steps, waiting for the sound of the door shutting behind you before shoving your shoulders back against the wall.

“You listen to me—“ he’s panting, words spat through grit teeth. “You’re gonna’ shut up, and you’re gonna’ stay quiet. Can you do that for me?”

The tone of his voice alone forces you to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from talking. It’s been a long, long time since you’ve seen him this serious. You’d almost forgotten that he was capable of producing this kind of tension - the kind that’s so palpable it could be cut with a knife.

So, you just nod, lips pressed into a thin line, and you hope that it’s enough.

“Alright.” He doesn’t seem certain of your answer, but he nods anyway, reaching for your wrist again and dragging you down the remaining stairs.

When you get to the bottom, he opens the door slowly, eyes darting around until they land on a nearby closet - and it’s only after the first step you take towards it that you hear noises on the floor above you.

Footsteps.

And way too fucking many for you to be comfortable.

The kind of heavy, laden-boot marching you’d dread to hear on good days - nevermind while you’re out in dangerous territory, trying your damnest to flee unseen. It’s only seconds before the steps grow louder, and you can feel your heart rate speeding up again - while Joel is staring at the ceiling with such intensity you think that he might just be able to will it to break if he so much as blinked at it.

Then, in a flash, he snaps out of it - dragging you toward the closet and shoving you inside before you can even think about protesting.

And god, is it fucking cramped.

The closet is small. Small enough that you have to force yourself closer to the wall so that he has space to squeeze inside behind you. And it’s within the first second that he shuts the door, and the darkness swallows you both whole - in which you realize you have a new problem altogether.

“Joel—“ you choke out as a heavy palm snakes around your waist, pressing tight against your belly. He’s a solid wall behind you, his front flush against your back, and all you can fucking feel is his hot breath against your ear - his stubble tickling your cheek. “What’s—“

“No talking.” And then he brings his free hand up to cover your mouth, and you have to stifle a noise that threatens to explode in your chest. “Not a fuckin’ word.”

You take solace in the fact that he can’t see how flushed your face becomes, but your stupid brain is working overtime - overanalyzing the feeling of his calloused palm against your lips, the heat of his mouth way too fucking close to your ear, his free hand that seems to be sliding lower down your abdomen—

“Stop squirming.” He whispers, all heat as his fingers press a little harder against your lower stomach.

You long to bark at him. I can’t control it.

But you can’t. So instead you try to focus on the sounds of the people upstairs. You try to pay more attention to the way your heart is threatening to break free through your sternum. Anything to try and take your mind off of the way he’s touching you - but he makes it so, so hard.

You’re certain you would have a better fighting chance if you were to try and move mountains.

Without even thinking, your hand comes up to wrap around his wrist, and it’s then that his lips curve into a smile against your ear. And when the realization comes crashing down - the realization that he’s fully aware of what’s happening to you - you think you may just collapse.

Oh, god, this is torture.

If it were anyone else, you’d think this was a joke. You’d think that perhaps the way he’s touching you was some kind of attempt at making the terrifying just a little more tolerable, a little more exhilarating for different reasons - but this isn’t just anyone. This is Joel. And you know his mind never works like what. Instead, he simply acts on instinct - in ways that usually leave you reeling and your thoughts in a whirlwind.

You’ve been through this a million times with him.

Unsurprisingly, this time is no different.

And as you try to focus on the footsteps above you - desperately searching for a thought, a train of any kind to follow - his hand moves again, fingertips tracing the waistband of your dirt covered cargos - barely dipping between fabric and skin.

It’s slow, teasing, but it’s enough. And you don’t currently have enough control over yourself to stop your back from arching, pressing directly against the bulge in his jeans that’s growing impatiently despite himself.

And it’s the way he exhales in your ear, the way you hear him inhale right after before his nose brushes the shell of your ear — before his hand dips lower to trace the zipper of your fly — that you find yourself fighting for your life to swallow the moan that threatens to spill because the people on the second floor are now shouting and hollering, and the whole floor seems to quake under the force of their heavy boots.

A second passes. Then two, and then ten — there’s silence. You’re pretty sure the steps are now heading away from where you’re hiding, and you think Joel must agree because he slips his hand from your mouth, sliding it down your jaw.

“Joel—“ you choke out, the last syllables of his name sounding desperate. “I-we—“

And yet again, you aren’t able to finish, because he has a habit of taking the words you think you want to say straight from your chest. You aren’t able to process it until a moment later - when his mouth finds your neck, fingers slipping into your now unzipped cargo pants.

This isn’t what you meant.

You don’t have the chance to tell him that. You don’t have the cognitive ability to push the idea that this isn’t the time. You don’t even have enough room in your head to acknowledge how this could go so badly, so quickly. You’re too drunk on the high of his touch to think straight.

And when his fingers drag the lace of your underwear to the side - all you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and pray to a God you’re sure you’ve never actually believed in that you’ll survive this without the shame over how fucking soaked you are eating you alive first.

His fingers find your clit, making slow, small circles. Just enough to make you keen. Just enough to make you forget who you are, and what you’re doing. You think if he keeps it up for any longer, the sounds trapped behind your teeth are going to jailbreak before you can get a handle on them. He knows it too - because it’s only a split second after that thought enters your mind, that he whispers gravel in your ear again.

“If y’can’t stay quiet, I’ll make you.” And it’s said with enough sternness to let you know that it isn’t a threat, it’s a promise. “Be good f’me.”

You don’t know if you can. You don’t know if you can possibly keep yourself silent. Not when his lips are teasing your burning flesh, not when his fingers are rolling your clit, not when he’s whispering promises of heaven in your ear.

But it’s then, that you hear the floorboards creak, and you know then, that you have no choice.

Either find a way to stay silent, or throw yourself headfirst into danger.

“Mm.” He hums as his fingers slip lower, sliding along your slit until they find your embarrassingly wet heat - to which you find yourself widening your feet despite yourself.

And this time, the noise that slips isn’t audible. Not to him anyway. But you can feel the sound vibrate the back of your throat. You can feel the way it glides over your tongue - and when you have the wherewithal, you bite down on your bottom lip, hard enough that it’s almost painful. He doesn’t seem to notice, and you’re glad because you know he’d only find it funny.

He pushes a finger into you, and holy fuck—

“Oh—“ the sound gets out of your mouth before you can stop it, involuntarily defying his direct order to shut the fuck up.

You hope, foolishly, it was quiet enough for him to not hear.

It isn’t, and as a result the hand that had been sitting lazily around your jaw slips firm over your mouth again, yanking your head back against his shoulder. You feel his fingers tighten as if to let you know that it’ll only get harder as his finger pushes deeper, and then retreats, pumping into you slow and steady.

“F-fuck—“ your whine is smothered against his palm, and you somehow have half the mind to realize the footsteps have stopped. Vanished. “J-joel.”

You’re expecting some type of response, some biting be quiet — but instead, all you get is a deep grunt in your ear and a roll of his hips against your ass as he slides another finger into your cunt, thumb brushing your clit.

And there’s almost no fight in you left to resist this - to resist the pleasure he’s pouring into your veins. You’d curse him if you could, if you could put more than four coherent words together to do it - but all there seems to be left in your mind is his name, which he’s using against you like he always does.

“Good girl.” He praises between slow, steady thrusts and you have to wonder what kind of game he’s playing to get you like this - to get you so undone you don’t even remember your own goddamn name.

Then again, you know better than to think there’s a game, at all. There are no games with Joel. He does what he wants and you’re either the benefit of it, or you’re the object of his ire.

But when a third finger slips into you, stretching and stuffing your cunt wider than you were mentally prepared for - you forget about any of that as you bite down on his hand as hard as you dare because it’s just too fucking much.

“J-joel—“ you try again, shaking your head. The footsteps haven’t returned. You have to believe they’re gone. You know Joel knows it too. “P-please—“

And like someone struck a match in a room full of gasoline, he seems to have decided that you’ve waited long enough. In the blink of an eye, you feel his palm leave your mouth, and move to the limited space between you. He’s unbuckling his belt.

“What’s the matter, huh?” He all but growls in your ear, still pumping his fingers deep. “Three too much for you? How d’ya think you’re gonna’ take my cock if you can’t even take my fuckin’ fingers.”

God. His voice is deep, dripping like sin. It goes straight to the center of your chest and you feel like the walls of your rib cage are cracking open. You have no idea how you’re going to be able to take him like this - especially when he’s so far gone it’s like he’s forgotten himself.

“I-I don’t know—“ and it’s the truth. You have no concept of how you’ll take a single drop of him in this state. But he’s already shifted himself free, pulling his fingers out to yank your pants down and slide his throbbing shaft into the slick space between your thighs. “F-fuck. You’re crazy.”

“Worse.” And you already know what he’s going to tell you just by the way the word drips into your ear. “M’insane.”

Truer words.

You never imagined that you’d ever find the thought of Joel Miller going insane so enticing. You imagine all kinds of ways you would have pictured it if someone had told you back when you first met - but somehow, this was never one of the things that came to mind.

“What does that make me?” You hiss as his fingers find your clit again, as he kicks your legs a little wider to slide his leaking tip against your slit.

“A goddamned fool.” He answers as he sinks into you, and there’s never been a more divine connection in the world. He groans into your ear, and you have to bite your lip again until you’re sure you might draw blood. “But you already knew that.”

And somehow, even still - you do.

Yeah. You do. He isn’t the type of man someone can ever know fully. He’s got walls and barriers built high - a fortress, impenetrable and vast - but somehow, you still manage to squeeze your way through it. It isn’t lost on you that you’re the only one who has.

“J-joel—go fuckin’ easy, please—“ you’re grabbing at the wall infront of you as he splits you open without so much as giving you a chance for breath. “It’s—been a while—“

And that stops him for a beat - but not for long, and not long enough. He still doesn’t go easy, still thrusts right to the hilt with the kind of power you’d associate with a man half his age - a man who (if the world hadn’t gone to hell) would be so close to retiring that he could taste the future on the back of his tongue - but you wouldn’t want him to anyway.

“I know, babygirl. I know. Just take it nice n’ deep, f’me. Just take it.”

And then he grabs a handful of your hair, pulling you back so he can get even deeper, your spine arching just enough.

Fucking hell.

The sound that’s almost impossible not to make threatens to rip from the pit of your chest, but you bite down in time and it turns into something between a strangled cry and an elongated whimper. You know you’re going to be walking funny tomorrow - but right now, there’s no such thing as being able to imagine tomorrow.

“You—fuck.” It’s a whisper so pained someone might think you’re actually being impaled. In some ways you are. “Oh, god, Joel. Ohmygod you’re deep—“

“There she is.” He all but growls into your ear. “There’s the tough woman I know.” If he wasn’t holding you so tightly you might’d fall at the way he suddenly slams into you. “Tightest pussy I ever had. Goddamn. You wanna feel good, huh? I’ll make you feel good. Just lemme’ have it nice n’ deep, and I’ll get you back later. Let you sit on my face for hours. Make you cum till’ you’re cryin.”

You almost bite your tongue in half at the very thought of him doing that. Your mind is a wasteland of icoherent thought - and it’s then that you know with all the certainty in the world that you’d been done for the moment he came into your life. He always had a rough edge to him - but back then, when you first met, you thought it was just the product of a shitty life. But now, you know better - now, you know he’s just a good-natured person with an innate drive to protect - and you’d go to your grave knowing that you’d go there loving him for it.

Even though, right now, it feels a lot more like he’s trying to kill you rather than protect you.

“Ohhh, fuck—“ you hiss through grit teeth as he pulls out, dragging slow at tight, wet walls. “M’close to cryin’ now.”

“Mmm.” He all but purrs. “That’ll mean I’m doin’ my job right.” There’s heat in the way he speaks that you swear would burn even the toughest person. But then again, that’s always been something you’d only ever been able to say about Joel. “M’not gonna’ be gentle. You know you ain’t deserving of it right now.”

Another time, you’d tell him he was wrong. Another time, you would have argued that you hadn’t done a single thing wrong - but right now, your thoughts are just as lost as your voice.

Still, you try your best. “W-why? Because I—mmf—dragged you outta’ bed?”

“Wrong.” You can’t see it, but you’re sure there’s a smirk on his face. “You really wanna get into it? Wanna’ make a list?”

You don’t, but you have the horrible feeling that this is going to happen either way.

“Do I have a choice?” You ask with what little breath you can find.

“No.” The word sounds so simple - but in that moment, it might as well have been a dagger. “You don’t.”

He pulls out just so he can drive back into you harder, hand sliding from your hair and back over your mouth.

“First, you dragged me outta’ bed. That right there? Shoulda been spanked for it. Next, you got yourself pinned in a goddamn closet with me after raiders chased us down. Almost got us killed.” Another painfully slow draw out, followed by a hard drive back in - smacking your cervix. “An’ for what? Cause’ you don’t wanna’ listen when I say it’s too dangerous to be out here.”

There are a million retorts you could have - most of them have something to do with you being able to take care of yourself - but none of them even find the beginning of your tongue.

He’ll take that win. Just like he takes everything else.

“Not t’mention you’ve kept this perfect ass from me for far too long.” He’s fucking you hard now, head kissing your cervix with each long thrust and you’re crying out under his palm but the sound doesn’t escape. He makes sure of it. “Mmm, yeah. Far. Too. Long.”

You want to tell him to shut up - that he’s being an ass - but you’re two broken breaths from wailing at the sting on your cervix and the pressure he’s now swirling on your clit. The only thing that’s left for you to do is the only thing you can do.

Take it.

You roll your hips, shoving back against him with every thrust just to have him hit that much deeper - and if he has something to say about it, he doesn’t say it. But he seems satisfied with just that, and suddenly, you think he’s just as close as you are.

“That’s it.” His voice is tight. “Good girl. Just like that.”

His hips snap against your ass so hard you think you might end up bruised tomorrow, but the thought only adds to the haze in your mind.

“Ffffffuck—Joel—“ you mewl, pathetic desperate and needy as a whore, against his palm. His fingers speed up against your clit. “Oh!”

“Take it, baby. Make me fuckin’ proud.” He hisses in your ear, a groan slipping out between it. “So good. Pussy feels so good.”

“Gonna’ make me cum.” You try to speak - maybe another time you’d be embarrassed by how desperate you sound, but this isn’t that time and it’s not the time to be anything other than truthful. “Mmm—gonna cum J-joel—“

“Yeah you are.” He grunts, the rhythm of his thrusts stuttering just a little. “Squeezing my cock so goddamn tight. Fuckin’ cum on it, babygirl. Wanna’ feel you.”

The sound that pushes past his palm at just the last moment doesn’t sound like you - but you know it is. It's the sound of the kind of pleasure that you’ve never experienced before that makes your entire body feel like a rubber band that’s too tight, and you have the vaguest sense of your walls squeezing the life out of him but there’s nothing you can do to stop it from happening at all - becuase your climax hits you like a goddamn freight train and its run you over hard.

You think he’s saying something - you know he is - but you can’t hear anything aside from the blood racing in your ears. Even still, you know exactly what happens next, because you’ve experienced it so many times. The way he loses himself, like he forgets every bit of control he prides himself for having and the need to empty himself inside you takes over.

He spills into you hard - and you love every second of it for the simplicity of the comedown.

It’s the kind of feeling that washes you in warmth. It’s the kind of feeling that tells you that the world is going to be okay, so long as you’ve got him and he’s got you. He groans and his hands come out to brace against the wall infront of you to hold himself up as he shoots hot jets of cum deep inside your cunt - and you can’t remember the last time you’d heard him breathe this hard. Though, truth be told, you can’t remember the last time you heard yourself breathe this hard, either.

Your mouth feels dry, your mind feels hazy, and your legs feel weak - and as he leans over you, he can surely tell all three - but he doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he drags his mouth over your ear with an inhale.

“Mmhmm.” He grumbles as he presses a kiss to your jaw. “Look what you made me to do ya.” Your cheek gets the same treatment, and a breath later as he turns your head slightly, your lips do too. “Gonna’ have my cum leakin’ out of ya all the way back to camp.”

The sound you make doesn’t even seem human, but it’s muffled before it even comes - because he’s kissing you. And it isn’t a hard kiss like you’d expect - it’s slow and steady, and you know he’s doing it in a way to say sorry, as if he realizes he might’ve gone a little too far.

You smile into it, and he does too.

“You really are insane.” You whisper as he pulls back slightly. “My cervix gonna’ need a week vacation after that.”

“M’not a good man, darlin'. If I was, I’d say sorry for that.” He whispers with a small kiss against your lips. “But I ain’t. So, I’ll just tell you I’ll take care of you later as much as you like. That good enough for now?”

There’s only one answer for you. Only one that’s ever been the answer with him.

“Always.” There is a beat of silence, and you smile in the dark. “I love you.”

He pulls out of you, finally, leaving the part of himself behind that tells you how much he loves you too without verbalizing it. Soon as he fixes his jeans, he helps you fix yours.

“And I love you.” He whispers, calloused palm finding your own. “Let’s get outta’ here. The sooner we’re back, the better.”

And that, you can’t agree more with.

[whoslaurapalmer]

returning to the computer plot wall bc i figured out (well like 90% of the way) what i needed to of the pre-fic plot that i put on the physical wall and now it's just mapping out the fic beats in relation to the maltese falcon beats which i don't need the wall for (that is what i need a chart for) but........i miss you physical wall :(

[tweerie]

maybe cause he had to do all those things bc of the plot...? why did he kiss a woman just to prove there was an illusion cast on them. why does he visit the sister of one of his party members so often who proceeds to get mad at him for it as if he's going behind his back seducing his sister.

[infizero]

bashing my head into a wall thursday

[gyaruhana]

I am in desperate need for more 001 / the front man fics TwT

Could the plot be : when 456 and others try to take over the controls room (last ep), 001 protects her from the guards ( or told the guards over the radio to not attack the player) thank you!

Hwang In-ho/Front Man - Favorites

Synopsis: In-ho decides you don't deserve to die so he makes sure you survive.

A/N: sorry if this is rushed i am trying to get so many other fics done now too !!

Warnings: none

Perhaps this whole mission was a really stupid idea. The sounds of gunshots rang through your ears as you listened to the yells of everyone else who had made the decision to help. You were starting to regret your own decision of taking a gun and choosing to help just because Young-il was going. You’d probably die here honestly. There just seemed to be a never-ending plethora of those guards running through and shooting at you and you couldn’t help but start to panic. 

Fuck, maybe you should just turn around and pretend like you were never a part of this poor attempt at a takeover. You weren't ready to die. Not today, not tomorrow, not even a decade from now. You just had to hold the fort down a little longer though. Just until Gi-hun and Jung-bae make it to the control room. You could wait that out. It wouldn’t take that long. At least, you kept telling yourself that. That everything was okay when it really wasn’t.

You took a deep breath before raising your gun and shooting at some of the guards from behind the pillar. Unfortunately for you, you quickly ran out of ammo making you pull back with a quiet curse. You shove your hands into your pockets to see if you had any more only to realize you’re out of ammo now. “Shit! I’m out,” you say as you look at the others and put your gun down next to you. 

“I’m almost out too,” Hyun-Ju spoke and the others seemed to have a nervous look on their faces - a clear sign they were quickly running out of ammo too. You leaned your head back as you closed your eyes and tried to breathe. All you could think about now was how you were definitely going to die here. You shouldn’t have tried to play hero. You should’ve stayed out of this so you could leave here in one piece and with a fuck ton of won. You were too lost in your fear to hear what the others were saying now and also too panicked to notice Young-il’s eyes on you.

He’d hate to admit it but seeing you like that made him feel guilty. He was annoyed at himself for lowering his guard so much and catching feelings for you when he really shouldn’t have. It was too complicated to fall for you when you were just a player, totally unaware that he was going to betray you all before Gi-hun even got close to the control room. If life was perfect, he would’ve taken you with him but he knew you’d never forgive him if you knew who he really was. 

It was then when he looked at the fear on your face did he decide you were not going to die here. Not in these twisted games he ran. You didn’t deserve death and, admittedly, he cared about you too much now to let you die. His focus on you was broken when Jung-bae started talking through the radio announcing that they believed they were right beneath the control room but needed more ammo and backup if they were going to make it.

“Did you hear that? They need backup!” he yells out as he looks to the others. “Three of us will go, the others will stay! Join us when you get the magazines!” he continued to yell through the loud echo of the bullets. Two of the men quickly offered to go as backup for Gi-hun and Jung-bae prompting Young-il to also go. Just as he was about to get up and head to the control room, your voice rang out.

“Wait! Are you sure?” you asked as you looked at Young-il with worry. Although Gwi-nam and Jung-bae needed some help and ammo, you didn’t want Young-il to be in danger. You weren’t sure what you would do if he died considering he’d been such a good friend to you. You’d never be able to get over his death - you knew that much. 

In response to your worry for him, he gave you a small smile as he looked at you before nodding his head. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry,” he says reassuringly. Seeing you look at him like that made his heart clench with both adoration and guilt. To know you worried for him almost made him rethink if he should be doing this or not. Of course, he quickly threw that thought away and turned around, heading to the direction Gi-hun and Jung-bae had gone. All you could do was watch him disappear through the door with a heavy heart as you pray this would work and he’d return unharmed.

Through the chaos of the shooting and the yelling, all you could think about was him. Even as everything went completely to shit and you all ran out of ammo after Dae-ho never came back and Hyun-ju left to go find him, you still kept thinking about him and if he was okay. Perhaps the threat of death being oh so real now was making you think about everything you had cherished in life - including the few days you got to spend with Young-il and how those days were arguably the best of your life.

Unbeknownst to you, you weren’t going to die here. Not as long as he was in control of these games. 

“Don’t kill Player 076,” he spoke through a radio to the guards after promptly shooting the guys that came with him and faking his death to Gi-hun. He shouldn’t be letting you live. He shouldn’t care about you at all but he did. He cared about you so much and he wished he could tell you the truth but he couldn’t. He’d just have to watch from afar and pull every string possible so you would live. He let out a sigh at the thought of you before quickly walking off to prepare himself to confront Gi-hun as who he really was - The Front Man.

You watched as your friends had no choice but to surrender until inevitably getting shot and killed. You flinched at the sound of the gunshots as you raised your hands in surrender and backed up. Were you crying? Yes. You were. Any sane person would be crying right about now after watching their friends die and realising they’re next to die. “Please. Please don’t kill me,” you begged as you closed your eyes and prepared for the worst. 

Except the worst never came. 

No. You were suddenly grabbed instead and pushed along as they walked. You weren’t sure what was happening. They had just ruthlessly shot your friends but they were leaving you to live? For what? So you could tell everyone what happened and teach a lesson to everyone not to try something like that again? You didn’t understand why you were spared when you really shouldn’t have been. You were just as guilty as the rest. You should have been shot too.

If only you knew the truth.

[bambiihee]

CLOSET CONFESSIONS ˒˒ 휴닝카이

⧼ 📎 ⧽ 一 pairing。 ⸝⸝ huening kai x fem!reader 𓄵 feat。beomgyu and yeonjun of tomorrow x together

genre。⋆ smut, porn with some plot, fluff, coworkers to lovers

warnings。⸝⸝ office au, coworker!kai, trapped in the closet, thunderstorms, sex in the dark, power outages, switch!kai, dirty talk, praise kink, love confessions, unprotected sex, cumshot, pull out method, breast play, handjob, monster cock!kai, mating press, missionary wc。6 . 5 k ╱ ⧼ 📋 ⧽ 一 to library。

author's notes。⸝⸝ a rewrite of an older kai fic on my old blog, holiday decorating! i rewrote it so it's readable all year around hehe~~ hope you all enjoy!! just a quick lil fic while i work on my longer wips <3 i proofread this super duper fast so please let me know if there's any mistakes!

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ FEEDBACK 𓇼 REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

No one had ever bothered to warn you about how difficult it was to plan an office party. Maybe if someone had, you wouldn’t have jumped at the opportunity when it had been presented to you; though it was awfully in your nature as a corporate kiss-ass to accept any work-related project that was offered to you. In all honesty, you agreed mostly in blind hope of impressing the higher ups, but part of you felt obligated to help when the retirement party you were asked to plan was for the woman you were hired to replace. 

“I'm sure you’ll do great,” your boss, Yeonjun, had reassured you with a not-so-comforting pat on the back. “Don’t be afraid to ask for help!”

You were terrified to ask for help. You had only begun working at TXT Bank eight weeks ago, doing entry-level grunt work filing paperwork and filling out spreadsheets. You didn’t even know most of your coworker’s names yet, and you hardly felt comfortable approaching any of them to ask for help with a completely benefit-less side quest. It might just be the new employee paranoia eating at you, but you couldn’t help but feel as if they wouldn’t be interested in helping you even if you did reach out and ask. The retiring analyst seems to have been a pretty popular staple in the office with decades of work under her belt, and you were a far cry away from the life of the party. You were young, inexperienced, and far too shy for your own good; in the short two months you’ve been employed at the bank, not once have any of your peers even attempted to engage in conversation with you aside from letting you know what you were doing wrong. Yeonjun’s personal assistant, Beomgyu, was the only person in the bank you felt even remotely comfortable being around, having known him from when you were still studying accounting in college. He was the one who got you the position in the first place, and without his mentoring and his happy-go-lucky attitude, you were sure that you would have buckled under the pressure long before now.

It’s only natural that he’s the first person you run to. Yeonjun said that there were party supplies somewhere hidden in the office… but couldn’t tell you exactly where.

“You don’t want my help, believe me,” he laughs, swiveling around in his desk chair to face you. “I can’t decorate worth shit. Plus, Why don’t you go and ask Kai? He probably knows where everything is in this place. You and I both know he’ll say yes— hell, you could ask him to jump from the tenth floor and he’d do it. He’s obsessed with you.”

Playing quietly on Beomgyu’s computer was the early morning news, the strong voice of the weatherman drawing your brief attention. “Record-breaking storms are forecasted to hit the metropolitan area later this afternoon—”

“He’s not obsessed.” You retort weakly, rolling your eyes to counteract the immediate flush that rises on your cheeks. “He’s just a nice guy.”

“Sure, buying you coffee and lunch, following you around like a lost puppy, and offering to walk you to your car every night is just being nice.”

“I asked him to the first time! The parking garage gets so scary when it’s dark out…”

Huening Kai worked in the banks I.T. department, imprisoned down in the basement like tie-wearing goblins. Even then you saw him nearly every single day, the poor boy constantly running up and down the stairs whenever he was called; and everyone asked for Kai when they needed help, because he was just too sweet and polite to refuse. He was the only stranger to welcome you warmly when you first began, offering his unyielding assistance with a handsome crooked smile. He was a godsend those first few weeks, because the outdated software the bank still used went so far over your head it made you dizzy. You still haven’t gotten quite the hang of it, but that was probably because you found it extremely difficult to focus on what Kai was trying to teach you when he was leaning over your shoulder and murmuring in your ear so closely and intimately with that gentle voice of his. You only felt dizzier in his presence, so nothing he said ever stuck… though that worked just fine for you, because that meant you could keep asking for his help.

Beomgyu’s sworn up and down since your first day that Kai has a thing for you. You’re pretty sure he’s just that friendly and kind with everybody. 

As much as you hate it when Beomgyu’s right, Kai absolutely would help you out if you asked him to. You feel guilty for hogging up all of his time, as busy as he is even when he isn’t acting as everyone’s personal errand boy, but if Beomgyu won’t help you, he’s the only other person you’re willing to ask. When you see him again around noon, offering you half of his sandwich with bright eyes and that smile that never fails to give you butterflies, you ask him meekly if he’d be willing to help you find some supplies and decorations for the senior analyst’s retirement party. 

He accepts a little more enthusiastically than you anticipated he would. “There’s a storage closet in the basement that has some of the decorations we used for last year’s Christmas party. I can show it to you later if you’d like! It’ll have to be after everyone goes home, though. I’m technically not allowed to go rooting through storage.”

“There’s supposed to be a storm tonight,” you recall from the news earlier, “Maybe Yeonjun’ll let everyone go home early if it starts pouring. We could stay behind then?”

“Oh, that’s sneaky.” Kai giggles. “Sounds like a plan to me!”

Your heart raced the rest of the day. All you were doing was going through some old dusty decorations, so why were you getting butterflies as if Kai had asked you out on a date? It’s impossible to focus on any of your tasks, your eyes constantly darting between the clock and the gathering of grey clouds over the horizon. By three, the entire sky was taken over by them, dark and ominous, blocking out the sun and swathing the entire city in a foreboding darkness. A light sprinkling of rain at four quickly turns into a torrential downpour, raindrops pounding against the roof and the wind picking up until it’s shaking the windows. Yeonjun starts sending people home early at five, and by six the entire office was empty except for you and a few other hardworking stragglers. 

As much as it pains you to lie to your boss, it has to be done; when it’s your turn to be sent home, you tell Yeonjun that you have extra statements to go through that you want to be done with before you leave. You even make a show out of packing up your purse in front of him, going extra slow because Yeonjun always wanted to stay and chat. Thankfully, he leaves the office himself without much fuss, but only after reminding you twice to drive safely and jokingly warning you about getting out before the building collapses over your head. A little unfair for the poor security guards who had to stay overnight anyway, you think. 

“Of course, sir, thank you. Have a good night.” you reply to Yeonjun’s retreating back with a tight smile, praying to whatever deity would listen that you don’t look as guilty as you feel. 

Once you hear the front doors close shut behind him, you shoot up out of your desk and hightail it to the basement. You find Kai waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs, grinning excitedly and waving with his bag slung over his shoulder. “It shouldn’t take us very long,” he says, turning and beckoning you with one of his large hands to follow him, “The closet’s pretty small. I want to get us both out of here before the storm gets even worse. Don’t like the thought of you driving in this weather as it is, but I also want to get you stuck in here all night waiting for it to blow over.”

You’re touched by his words, even if you wouldn’t really mind it if you ended up hunkered down in the basement with him overnight. He ushers you down a dimly lit hallway, long and narrow with identical little cubicle-like offices flanking both walls. Even with the offices empty, the cramped atmosphere made you feel tense and claustrophobic; something about the dark, empty windows and the uncanny silence gave you the creeps. Kai doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, however, hands in his pockets and his head held high as he leads you to the very end of the hallway, stopping at a scuffed, unmarked wooden door. A keypad affixed to the adjacent wall blinks brightly in the dark.

“Is this the storage closet you were talking about?” You ask, eyeing the door oddly. “It doesn’t look like a closet at all. Why’s it got a keypad?”

“It used to be a server room, I think. Long before I started working here. The old equipment is all still there.” Kai responds airily, plugging in the code for the keypad. “Now it’s just used to store stuff we don’t need. Only my department has access to it, though; expensive computers and whatnot. After last year’s Christmas party I helped put away everything, and I stored it all in here ‘cos I was too lazy to carry it to the attic.”

“We have an attic?”

“...Yes and no. There’s nothing up there that you want.” The keypad beeps and the little blinking red light turns green. Kai pulls the door open and gestures for you to step inside. 

There’s no windows in the old server room, you quickly realize; when the door swings shut behind the two of you, you’re plunged into complete blackness. You search blindly in the dark for the light switch, but Kai locates it with ease, switching it on with a soft click and flooding your senses with blinding fluorescent light. You have to blink hard a couple of times to adjust, your eyes squinting and watering as they slowly acclimate and take in your surroundings. Against each wall countless boxes are stacked up nearly to the ceiling, each one filled to the brim with dusty paperwork and ancient electronics, wires spilling over the sides. You spot a line of folding chairs leaned up against a filing cabinet, a ladder and an old printer. As Kai had mentioned earlier, numerous server racks filled up the room, abandoned and far too outdated to be of any use anymore. They were pushed aside like walls of a maze, creating a rough pathway through all of the junk just wide enough for you and Kai to stand shoulder to shoulder. You swallow down the lump in your throat and place your purse on an old desk, Kai copying you close behind. 

You can still hear the storm outside, even down here. The wind howls and whips around viciously, the rain sounding like a barrage of a thousand tiny bullets.

“There should be some stuff in the back,” Huening Kai murmurs, squeezing past you to make his way through the mountains of stuff. His chest brushes against your back as he moves past, and you can feel the firm planes of his pecs through the thin material of his button down shirt. “Tablecloths and ribbons and things. I’m pretty sure I hid them all back here so I wouldn’t get in trouble.”

You laugh airily, a little too distracted to pay much attention to what he was saying. “You? In trouble? I don’t think Yeonjun has the heart.”

Kai shrugs and breaks the tape seal on a random cardboard box, peering inside for a moment before shaking his head and placing it aside. “You’d be surprised. He’s still putting on a show for the new girl— you haven’t been around long enough to see what he’s really like. By the way, how are you liking it so far? Getting the hang of things?”

You should probably be looking around yourself, but you can’t tear your eyes away from the way the muscles in his back ripple through his shirt as he digs through boxes. “I, um. I’m still figuring it out, but I’m getting better. Thank you for your help, really— I appreciate it.”

The storm grows even louder outside, to the point that it’s beginning to frighten you. You don’t think you’ve ever heard of a building caving in from just a bad thunderstorm, but Yeonjun’s joke still rings in your ears; there’s a first for everything. 

If Kai notices that you haven’t moved away from the door, he doesn’t mention it. “You don’t need to thank me! I’m happy to help, really. Don’t be afraid to ask for help anytime you need it, Y/N. All you need to do is ask— you can always count on me.” He moves on to another box, still searching in vain for those decorations. “Who’s your favorite coworker? If you have one, I mean— ah, that’s a stupid question. It’s probably Beomgyu.”

Kai’s tone changes suddenly, from bright and friendly to something darker, something you couldn’t quite place. You’ve never seen Kai sound like that before, and it vanishes as fast as it came. He looks over his shoulder at you and gives you a smile, and you’re half convinced that you made it up. 

“What do you mean?” you prod, cocking your head. 

Kai’s silent for an awkward moment, seemingly weighing the question with a bite to the inside of his cheek and a quick aversion of his eyes. “Well, he’s your friend, right? From college. And I’ve heard that you spend time together outside of work, going out to bars and whatever. And, I mean… I see you with him every day, talking with him and laughing at his jokes. I thought you were together for a while, actually, with how he’s always looking at you. With his stupid perfect face and his stupid perfect hair—”

You’re not really sure how to process that. “Kai… actually, my favorite coworker is you. I thought it was obvious.”

His head spins around so fast you’re afraid it’s going to fly right off. His big brown eyes are wide in shock. “Wait, what?! Really?!”

“Yes, really.” you giggle. “I thought you knew that, silly. Beomgyu’s my friend and all, but he gets on my nerves all the time. Kind of like a kid brother, I guess. You’ve been just so sweet to me when nobody else really has, and you’ve made me feel so welcome… It really means a lot.”

Kai’s face turns an adorable shade of bright pink, from his neck all the way to the tips of his ears. “Oh. Well. Um. Thank you, I—” he looks away sharply, lowering his head to study the boxes again. His long bangs fall to cover his eyes, shielding the emotions that swirled in their dark chocolate depths. “I’m glad you feel that way… I can’t seem to find any of these stupid decorations, I’m worried we’re not going to be able to make it out of here before the power goes—” 

Flicker.

Pop.

You’re plunged into complete and total darkness. 

“—out.”

Kai straightens up sharply, or at least you’re pretty sure he did— you can’t even see your hands inches from your face. You screw your eyes shut and you see no difference, blind to everything except the cacophonous howling of the wind. 

“Shit!” Kai curses, the first time you’ve ever heard him do so. “Hold on, I can get us out of here—”

There’s a loud crash to your right. Kai must have run into one of those server racks trying to find his way around; you can hear him cursing under his breath as he stumbles around blindly, shuffling back to you one careful step at a time. The banging and crashing gets closer and closer, until it’s far too close— you open your mouth to warn him, but Kai barrels right into you before you could get a word out. He nearly knocks you to the ground, but his outstretched arms catch you before you fall. One arm wraps itself around your waist and the other… grabs a fat fistful of your breast. 

“Sorry!” Kai yelps, and it seems he doesn’t even notice just exactly where his hands had ended up, his hands large and warm and squeezing your flesh a little too tightly. The heat from his skin seeps through the material of your blouse and bra and floods your senses, erupts a fire in your chest that rushes straight down between your legs. 

As unwelcome as the feeling is, you can’t fight it off.

“Um, Kai.” you stutter, biting your lip to keep your voice as unassuming as possible. “That’s… that’s my boob.”

Kai tears his hands away as if he were touching hot coals, and much to your dismay you find yourself instantly craving his touch again. “I’m so sorry!!” he repeats in a rush of jumbled words, his usually deep voice a couple octaves higher. You’re sure his handsome face is glowing crimson red, and distantly you wish that the lights were on so you could see it. “I–I, I didn’t mean to, I swear!” 

“I know you didn’t, don’t worry,” you reassure him, reaching out yourself to help him right himself and walk past you to the door. You can hear him pressing buttons frantically on the keypad, but the device doesn’t beep or flash any lights. He curses again and slams his fist against the wall, the loud thud echoing throughout the quiet dark room. 

“We’re stuck in here.” Kai mutters to you in dismay. 

You blanche. “What do you mean we’re stuck in here?!”

“The door automatically locks itself when it closes and the keypad is the only thing that unlocks it… and it turned off when the power went out. It’s alright though! The backup generator should turn on any minute now!” 

The two of you stand around in silence for a long, extremely awkward moment. The backup generator does not turn on. 

“Okay, or not.” Kai gripes. “That’s fine. This is fine. We’ll get out of here somehow— here, let me turn on my phone’s flashlight—” 

He rummages around in his pockets noisily before making a triumphant little giggle; you anticipate seeing the little flashlight on his cellphone turn on and finally illuminate the all-encompassing dark, but the light never comes. 

“...And my phone’s dead. Great. Just great.” 

“You really need to get better about charging that thing.” You quip sarcastically. “How many times have you asked to borrow my charger? I only bring it now because I know you’ll need it.” 

“I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t— wait, really? Just for me?” 

You don’t answer, your cheeks flaring up from the confession you didn’t mean to let slide. “My phone should still have a charge.” You tell him, an attempt to change the subject. “But I left it in my purse. I think I remember where I put it… let me try and grab it.” 

Carefully, you begin to shuffle your way towards the far right corner of the room, where you’re at least partially confident that the desk was. Kai follows you closely, his hands balancing on your shoulders to keep the both of you steady. It was a fine idea at first, when the two of you were making good headway, but you didn’t get very far at all before you’re once again losing your balance.

You barely manage a few short steps before one of your kitten heels catches on something rolling around on the ground; Kai must have knocked over a few boxes on his way over to you, little plastic bulbs that feel an awful lot like Christmas ornaments, the ones that Kai had put there when he wasn’t supposed to. You trip and stumble, but you probably could have caught yourself easily if it wasn’t for Kai’s big tall body tripping and stumbling right with you. The both of you come crashing down to the floor, your sharp gasp drowned out by Kai’s loud, girly shriek right into your ear. He squishes you against the cold linoleum, his chest pressed against your back and keeping you pinned down, hips flush against your ass. You try to wriggle free, but Kai is just too heavy, completely motionless and oddly silent as he breathes quick and hard against the back of your neck. “Oh my god, Huening Kai, you oaf, get off me!” you whine, attempting in vain to push yourself up onto your knees. The movement makes your hips swivel against Kai’s own, akin to a bucking horse trying to unseat its rider, and that’s when you feel it. 

Your pencil skirt has ridden up so high that your entire ass is exposed, covered up only by your underwear and pantyhose, and you can feel every inch of Kai’s hardening dick press up against you as if there were no clothes between the two of you at all. You can feel everything, the weight and the curve of it, slotted perfectly between your asscheeks like it belonged there. The way it twitches violently in his slacks when you gasp.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers quietly, his head buried in your shoulder, voice wobbly like he was going to cry. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” It’s just then do you register his hands on your hips, touching you so intimately, steadfast in their movements rubbing up and down your ass and thighs despite the way he was shaking like a leaf. He’s never been this close before, his body so sculpted and masculine against you. His soft plump lips ghost over the exposed skin of your collarbone and wafts of his musky cologne cloud your senses. You shouldn’t do this, you should remain professional… but you’ve wanted Huening Kai more than you’ve ever wanted any other man, since you first laid eyes on him, and having him pressed up against you so helpless and vulnerable has destroyed your control and reason. All you can think about is that Kai wanted you too, and the proof was straining against the fly of his pants begging to be freed. 

You roll your hips back against him slowly, as if not to startle him— the broken moan that falls from those kissable lips is downright obscene, whiny and desperate, shooting hot sparks of pleasure down your body to your core. 

“A-ah, did you, um— Y-you didn’t mean to d-do that, right?” Kai murmurs in a small voice. His cock grows even harder against you. 

You can’t take it anymore; in Kai’s dazed state you manage to pull yourself up from underneath him and spin around to reach out wildly in his general direction. One of your fists manages to wrap around his tie, and with a sharp tug Kai’s lips come crashing down onto yours. His lips are soft and pillowy against your own, tasting a little sweet, like the tea with milk and honey he enjoys drinking while he works. His panting breath tickles your skin, his fingers coming up to card through your hair as you both open your mouths and breathe each other in. Your bodies press together heatedly, hands roaming everywhere you could reach, groping and pushing and pulling, desperate to get closer even if it was impossible. Kai’s other hand slides down your back to cup your ass, squeezing the plush flesh between his fingers. Swathed in all this darkness, it was easy to forget that you weren’t dreaming. 

You’ve never kissed or been kissed quite like this before. 

“Does that answer your question?” You giggle when you part for air. Kai pants hotly into your mouth like a thirsty dog before descending down upon you to recapture your lips himself. 

This kiss is even more heated than the last, Kai prying your lips apart to deepen the passion with his teeth and tongue. You wish you could see, could admire the sharp tic of his jaw as he kisses you, lose yourself in his beautiful brown eyes. Bear some witness to something you had been confident would never happen. You can feel the thud of your combined heartbeats, blood rushing in your ears to drown out the storm as you both fumble with each other's clothes. Kai’s hands move to cup your tits, squeezing harshly when you slide your hand down his chest and belly to catch on his belt buckle. It’s a hassle to unfasten in the dark, but you manage to tear both his belt and fly open and fish his hot throbbing cock out of his boxers. You wrap your hand around it, so fat your fingers barely connect— Kai lets out a strangled whine as you stroke up his shaft to thumb at his tip, thick globs of precum wetting your hand. 

Kai’s hands come back to your breasts, but this time on purpose; he gropes and squeezes greedily, pressing the flesh together before letting them bounce back into place. Just one of his hands is enough to cover the entirety of your tit, your bra doing nothing to hide the way your nipples harden and beg for his attention. He pinches and rolls them between his fingers through your shirt, the sensation too much and not enough at the same time. 

“T-take it off!” he grits out against your lips, fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. “Please, gotta feel—”

An affirming hum is all he needs. He tears your blouse open with a strength you didn’t know he had, the fabric ripping loudly and the buttons popping off. Roughly he pulls your bra down just enough for your breasts to fall out, heated flesh and hard nipples pebbling in the cold air. Kai quickly warms them up with his fingers, tugging and rolling your beds between his thumbs and forefingers, the pleasure making you keen wantonly. 

“Kai! That shirt was expensive!” you complain, but you stroke his twitching cock even faster; you couldn’t find it within yourself to care much about anything that wasn’t Kai’s hands on you, and as much as you enjoyed listening to him get embarrassed you didn’t want him stopping again to apologize any more than he already has. 

“Couldn’t help it, just love your tits,” Kai groans, letting go of your nipples to grope and massage the fat mounds of your breasts. His grip gets tighter with every flick of your wrist, his breath fanning over you in short airy pants. “Fuck, you’re so sexy, it makes me insane. Running around in those tight tops and those short little skirts, I just want to— a-anh!— f-fuck you all the time!”

“Kai,” you plead, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to quell the searing heat growing between them. 

“I wish I could see you right now,” he continues, and you jump at the sudden electric sensation of a hot wet tongue sliding against your nipple. “I could probably cum just from how hot you look— God, I’ve been wanting to do this forever.”

His plump, spit-slick lips seal themselves around your hard bud, his hands continuing to play with your chest as he sucks and nibbles. You cry out high in your throat, letting go of his twitching cock to crumple your fist in his shirt. Your pussy aches to be touched, dripping so much slick that you’re sure you’ve completely ruined your panties. Kai's fingers and mouth are better than anything you’ve ever felt before, good enough to make you cum from just this alone, you’re sure, but the cavernous hunger that’s developed within you desperately, wildly, primally demands more.

“Touch me!” you beg him, pulling him impossibly closer, right where you need him most. “Kai, please touch me!”

Kai gives your nipple one last tug between his teeth before pulling off with a pop, leaving your breasts covered in his spit and erupting in goose flesh from the frigid air. Slowly and carefully he crawls himself between your open legs, sliding his fingers underneath your bunched up skirt. He runs a fingertip down the gusset of your panties, just the ghost of a touch, but it’s enough to make you keen in delight. “You’re so wet,” he laments, sounding utterly ruined, two thick fingers rubbing your weeping pussy lips over the lace, circling your clit until you mewl, “Made a mess in your panties… Did I really make you this wet? That’s so fucking hot…”

He relinquishes his finger, and you’re not sure what you were expecting next, but it definitely wasn’t for him to grab ahold of your pantyhose and underwear and tear them from your body in one powerful yank. The nylon and lace rip like paper, the ghastly sound ringing in your ears, and Kai tosses the shredded fabric to the side along with your buttons before positioning himself to kneel between your thighs.

“I’ll do more than touch you if you’ll let me,” he whispers in your ear, running his hand up your inner thigh, leaving behind a burning trail in it’s wake, “I wanna fuck you so bad, baby, please, can I? I’ll buy you new clothes, I’ll do anything you want, just let me ruin you…”

“We don’t have a condom…” you breathe, but you widen your legs to give him more room anyway. Usually that would be a deal-breaker for you, but you’ve already done more in this closet than you would have ever even dreamed of doing. 

“I'll pull out, I promise.” Kai's voice is far too soothing for your own good, those terrible, god-sent big hands grabbing ahold of the back of your knees to expose you even further. You can hardly think at all anymore, too focused on the throbbing need swirling deep in your pussy, and how good it would feel if you would take the risk and just let go.

“Please…” is all you can manage to say, and with a delighted groan, Huening folds your legs up to rest on his shoulders and positions his weeping cock at your entrance. It feels so filthy, with your torn-up pantyhose still clinging to your legs and your heels hanging from your toes, and once again you wish that you could see just how lewd of a sight the two of you were.

Kai slides his cock up and down between your folds, getting his shaft nice and wet with your juices. His bulbous cockhead bumps deliciously against your clit before gliding back down to your entrance, pressing against the rim of your hole just enough to tease before letting up and doing it again. As hot as it is and as good as it feels, you can’t handle any teasing anymore, not when you’ve been on the edge and in need of release for this long.

“Put it in!” you cry, and you can hardly recognize your own voice. You sound so needy, so pornographic— it would be humiliating if you weren’t this far gone. “Please, please, need you s’bad, Kai, need your cock…”

Kai shushes you with an unexpectedly chaste kiss, sweet and gentle and nothing at all like the way he was thrusting himself inside of your tight wet heat like an animal. The stretch burns so good you bite his shoulder to keep from screaming, his cock longer and fatter than any you’ve ever taken before. For a delirious moment you worry that he’ll tear you in half, that he won’t fit, your walls clenching down on him like a vice as he forces his way deeper and deeper, until his tip kisses your cervix and his balls slap wetly against your ass.

“S-so big…” you slur against his skin, clawing weakly at his shoulders. Your mouth is slack and drooling and your mind was blank of everything except for how impossibly full you feel. 

“Is it too much?” Kai asks nervously, back to his sweet anxious self for a split second. “I’m so sorry, sweetie, I couldn’t stop myself, your pussy’s sucking me in—”

“Nooo! It feels so goo–o–ood!” you mewl dumbly, finding it harder and harder to string a sentence together the longer Kai’s inside of you. “Need more, Hyuka! Give it to me!” 

The innocent nickname makes him moan, and just like you wanted and pleaded for he begins to fuck you in sincere earnest. His thrusts are fast and brutal, lit by a deep, primal fire you had no idea he possessed. It knocks the wind out of you, overwhelmed in the best possible way, your mouth falling slack and your eyes rolling into the back of your skull, moaning in delight every time his cock spears your cervix.

“Deep! So f-fucking deep!” you hiccup breathlessly, surrendering yourself completely to the onslaught of red-hot pleasure. You can feel him in your belly, right under your navel, your wet little pussy squelching obscenely with every movement of Kai's hips. He finds your sweet spot with shocking ease, angling his cock to drag against that spongey bundle of nerves and make you gush. 

“Yeah?” he croons, thrusting himself inside of you impossibly harder, faster, “Feels so good, huh? Fuck, this pussy’s so fucking wet, so fucking tight— best cunt i’ve ever had, baby, feels better than I ever imagined…! Can’t let you go now, perfect girl, all for me. This perfect pussy’s all mine, you hear, no one else's!”

He recaptures your pert nipple between his lips, suckling even rougher than before; your breasts bounce to the rhythm of his thrusts, sensitive flesh jiggling in his face as he trails his teeth and tongue across the planes of your cleavage, leaving dusky love bites in his wake. He slobbers over your tits like a hungry dog, his moans and whines muffled by your nipples he takes turns slurping them up into his mouth. The pangs of pleasure from your sore nipples combined with Kai's quickening pace and filthy words tug you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy, the fiery hot tsunami building deep within your belly threatening to overflow and toss you into its euphoric depths.

“God, I love you,” kai admits as he continues to babble nonsense, seemingly not noticing just what was coming out of his mouth, “I’ve been wanting you for so fucking long, needed you  so bad— my pretty girl, so beautiful, I wanna see your face when you cum. You’ve gotta look so sexy when you cum.”

Your heart clenches along with your cunt. 

There is nothing you can see, but there is plenty you can hear— Kai’s hips clapping against your ass, his beautiful broken whimpering, the slick sounds of your pussy gushing around his cock. You open your mouth to speak, voice the mounting ecstasy that built steadily in your throbbing cunt, but you can’t seem to get out anything other than shrill, pathetic cries of pleasure. Your mind was wiped completely blank, nothing but static behind your eyes, thoughts filled with nothing except the pressure in your core and how good it would feel if you let it consume you.

“I’m gonna cum!” you wail, using up all your energy into making yourself speak— Kai groans happily, his thrusts turning desperate and sloppy, speeding up to pound your sweet spot into oblivion.

“Yes! Fuck yes, cum with me, angel, come on. You can do it.” He coos into your ear, voice shaking as his body jolts and shudders above you. His hands come down to press hard on your engorged, sensitive clit, rubbing tight circles against the throbbing bud. “That’s it, make a mess, cum all over my cock!” 

Your orgasm hits you like a truck, your entire body shaking from overwhelming pleasure as you pulsate and gush around him. You recognize distantly that you’re squirting, droplets of viscous liquid splashing all over your tummy and thighs, drenching Huening’s own as well. His own climax is triggered by the violent pulsing of your gummy walls around him, and he wrenches out his cock from your quivering pussy just milliseconds before ropes and ropes of thick, sticky cum splatters hot and wet all over your heaving tits.

“Holy fuck.” Kai whispers, unable to catch his breath. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

You just giggle weakly, trying to calm down your racing heart yourself. The two of you lay against each other in silence for a moment basking in the afterglow while you both come down from your highs. Your orgasm sucked all the life force out of you, it seemed, leaving you weak and exhausted as you lay boneless on the cold storage closet floor.

And just like that, the lights turn back on. The vents begin to whir and suck out the hot, sweaty air, but the stench of sex still lingers. You’re nearly blindsided after spending so long in the dark, screwing up your eyes as you take in your surroundings.

Kai is staring right back at you.

His dark hair is wild and sticking out in all directions, eyes blown wide and his cheeks dusted pink. His tie is half-undone and his work shirt is terribly wrinkled, drenched in what you can only assume to be your juices. His softening cock lies against his thigh, poking out from his unzipped fly, slacks just as damp and ruined as his shirt was. His chest heaves with the force of his breaths, no doubt taking in your own appearance himself. You look down just enough to see your torn clothes, your cum stained breasts and wet thighs, your smart professional outfit looking like it was ravaged by some sort of rabid animal.

“You look beautiful.” Kai whispers in rapture. 

“Um.” you respond smartly, cheeks burning. Averting your eyes you check the door; the keypad is blinking cheerfully at you, as if it had never turned off in the first place. It’s just then that you realize you can’t hear the storm anymore. The worst must have ended while you were occupied with other things.

“Do… you want to keep looking for those decorations?” Kai prods gently. You shoot him a quizzical glare.

“I want to go home.” you grumble lightheartedly. “I don’t give a damn about that stupid party anymore. I’ll just ask Yeonjun for his credit card.”

Kai smiles, that signature smile that gives you even more butterflies now than it ever did before. “That’s what I was hoping you were going to say. Does my home work for you? We can watch a movie and get takeout. Or, I mean, you don’t have to, we can just leave and go our separate ways and—”

“I’d love to.” you snicker, leaning forward to steal a kiss. “Should we take separate cars, though? It would be suspicious if we showed back up tomorrow together.”

“We’ll be sneaky about it. We’re good at that.”

©BAMBIIHEE 2025. all rights reserved.

[dreamauri]

Sub Oscar but he needs a break from aus and he relaxes by getting so many orgasms??? He deserves it tbh

♪ — 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬 𝗠𝗢𝗗𝗘 sub!oscar piastri  x  girlfriend!reader ( smut ) fic summary . . . after a tough home race, oscar piastre needs your help to get his mind of his race results (1.4k words)

( my master list | more of oscar piastri ) ( requests )

CONTENT WARNING — ( +18 MDNI, smut with a little plot, blow job (m receiving), overstim, sad oscar)

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Oscar slumped into the plush couch of his driver’s room, his body heavy with the weight of disappointment. His face was still flushed from the race, and though the adrenaline had faded, the frustration lingered. He had started P2, full of hope, only to finish P9—far below where he felt he should have been. The spin, the lost positions to a Sauber, Stroll, Leclerc . . . It all weighed on him.

The door clicked softly behind you, and he didn’t need to look up to know it was you. The gentle sound of your footsteps on the floor told him you were coming over to him. You didn’t need to speak; you never did when it was like this. Oscar rested his head on your shoulder as you sat next to him, his arms naturally finding their way around you.

“I fucked up,” he muttered, his voice tinged with frustration. You wrapped you arms around him in return, stroking your fingers through his weat damp hair.

You let him vent, listening to every word, his self-blame unraveling in the form of a disjointed rant.

"I had it. I fucking had it," Oscar muttered, his voice tight with frustration. "P2. I started P2, Yn." He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head against your shoulder. "And then I just—what? I lose it like a fucking rookie? One mistake, and suddenly I’m in ninth, watching a Sauber fly past me like I don’t belong here."

His grip on you tightened, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt. You just held him closer, rubbing his back in slow, steady circles.

"You do belong here, Os."

"Then why does it feel like I don’t?" He exhaled sharply, shifting slightly. "Lando's on the podium, Max is Max, and I’m here, talking about how I got overtaken by Stroll like an idiot." His voice cracked slightly on the last word, the frustration melting into something more fragile. "I should’ve fought harder. I should’ve defended better. But I panicked, and I—I let it slip away."

You cupped the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair, grounding him. "It wasn’t just you, Oscar. Strategy wasn’t perfect. Tires were shit. It’s not all on you."

"It feels like it is." His breath stuttered, his shoulders rising and falling unevenly. "I hate this. I hate feeling like I disappointed everyone. The team, the fans—myself."

"You didn’t disappoint me." Your voice was soft but firm, and he finally looked up, eyes searching yours, flickering with something vulnerable.

Oscar exhaled shakily, the tension still thick in the air. He leaned his forehead against yours for a brief moment before looking at you, his brown eyes wide, a mix of vulnerability and yearning behind them.

"I just . . . I want to forget today," he whispered the last part like a confession, barely audible over the sound of his own ragged breathing.

You blinked, the request catching you off guard. Your hands, which had been rubbing soothing circles into his back, stilled.

"Now?" you asked softly, searching his face.

He nodded, a little shy but resolute.

You hesitated. "Oscar . . ." Your fingers grazed his jaw as you tried to find the right words. "I don’t want you to just bury this. You had a bad race, but avoiding it like this—it won’t make it go away."

His lips parted slightly, a flicker of something unreadable flashing in his eyes. "I know that," he said, voice strained. "I know tomorrow I’ll still be thinking about it, I know I’ll go over every mistake a hundred times in my head—but right now, I just need—" He swallowed, voice dropping to something barely above a whisper. "You."

Your heart clenched at the way he said it, so raw, so desperate. Then he gave you this look—this quiet, pained, pleading look, like if you said no, the weight of today might just crush him entirely.

And just like that, your resistance melted.

You sighed softly, fingers tracing the curve of his cheek before pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his lips—a question, an invitation, and an answer all at once.

When you pulled back, his eyes searched yours, still uncertain, still a little lost.

You gave him a small, knowing smile, your voice gentle but firm. "Okay, Os. Let me take care of you."

He nodded shyly, not saying anything more, but you could feel the weight behind his request. Without saying anything else, you pressed a kiss to his lips—a gentle, lingering kiss that was both a question and an invitation. When you pulled back, you gave him a small, smile, and you could see the uncertainty in his eyes.

Slowly, you slid down to your knees in front of him, your hands resting on his thighs as you looked up at him, making sure he was comfortable with what was happening. Oscar’s breath caught in his throat, his hands shaking a little as he helped you unbuckle his race suit. You took your time, pulling it down carefully, ensuring he felt at ease with the situation.

When his pants finally came off, you reached up to gently touch his chest, calming him further. His eyes were closed now, his breathing shallow. You leaned in, your lips brushing over his skin, your fingers tracing the edges of his muscles, comforting him in ways that words couldn’t.

Oscar was no longer tense, his body slowly unraveling beneath your touch. The tightness in his shoulders, the stiffness in his jaw—all of it began to fade as you worked him over with slow, deliberate care. You kissed your way down his body, mapping each inch of his skin with reverence, pressing your lips to the places where tension lingered, coaxing him into relaxation with every deliberate movement.

His breath hitched as your mouth found its way lower, and you could feel the slightest tremor roll through him, his body caught between pleasure and relief. His fireproofs clung to his skin, the heat of the race still lingering on him, but none of that mattered now. His muscles, once tight with frustration, melted under your attention, each kiss, each touch dissolving the weight of the race he had carried with him.

Every time you drew another shudder from him, you noticed the way his body reacted—the way his fingers twitched at his sides before curling into the couch, the way his thighs tensed beneath your palms only to relax moments later. His breath grew uneven, small gasps slipping past his lips despite his attempts to hold them back. When you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, he squeezed back instantly, grounding himself in your touch.

The intimacy wasn’t lost on either of you.

You kept your movements steady, pulling him back from the downward spiral of self-doubt, replacing his frustration with something else entirely. This was about more than just pleasure—it was about comfort, about giving him an escape, a moment where nothing else existed but the warmth of your touch and the way you made him feel.

Oscar’s gasps grew heavier, his body trembling beneath you, each moment unraveling the last bit of tension he had been holding onto. He wasn’t thinking about the race anymore, wasn’t thinking about the positions lost, the mistakes made—there was only this, only you. His grip on your hand tightened as he gave in completely, his body shaking with the intensity of his release, the last remnants of frustration dissolving in the aftermath.

He was panting now, chest rising and falling in quick, uneven movements, his fingers still tangled with yours. His head lolled back against the couch, eyes fluttering shut, completely undone in the best way possible. You pressed one last kiss to his thigh before pulling yourself up beside him, running your fingers through his hair.

For the first time since he stepped out of the car, Oscar looked at peace.

You stayed close, keeping him grounded in the moment, ensuring he felt cared for, wanted, and supported. After everything, it was the only thing that mattered—being there for each other when the world felt a little too heavy.

Oscar leaned back, his eyes half-lidded, a small, content smile playing on his lips. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. You smiled softly, brushing your thumb over the back of his hand.

“You deserve to be taken care of,” you replied, your words soothing his lingering frustrations.

Voice notes 🔊 . . . ( i wrote this at midnight I don't know what I'm doing, sorry if it's not well written enough )

[flofaiiry]

wanna be yours ; charlie reid x reader

... aka ; ultraviolence pt.2

warnings: fem!reader, age gap (reader is 20-21 charlie is late 40s), alcohol, potential underage drinking (reader is technically 20 but i forgot the drinking age in the usa is 21 so... she can be 21 or have a fake id in your head whatever u want!!), jealousy, possessive&down bad charlie, oral f!receiving, fingering, kitchen sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, reader is easy for charlie to throw over his shoulder, unprotected p in v sex (dont do that!!), dacryphilia, creampie, praise (use of good girl but are we even surprised anymore), very soft ending, not proofread oopsie.

wc: 6.3k (im sorry (no im not))

note: gif cred to @sammy-bryant !! aaaaa here it is!!! pt2 of ultraviolence!!!! admittedly i have no idea why i called it that tbh i was just listening to lana del rey while writing and thought it fit the vibe idk!!! thank u so much to everyone who left a comment or reblogged or sent an ask saying such nice things abt part one!!!! i really appreciate it so much and am very happy to provide u with ur dose of charlie reid content :D this one's got a lot of plot, i really loved fleshing out reader & her friends more & i hope you guys enjoy!!!!!!! as always any feedback is super appreciated <3 <3

"so.. what do you actually want to do with your degree after you graduate?" charlie asks, his hand running up and down your bare back, fingers tracing over your spine.

"i have no idea," you sigh, "i was thinking to maybe get my masters? buy myself a little time before i have to decide anything for real, you know." your head rests on his chest, the subtle beat of his heart just barely audible under your ear.

"you ever think about police?" he asks. you just laugh in response, smiling into his skin. "i'm serious! it's a good job, good benefits. i'm sure i could pull some strings to get you in a good unit." he's mostly teasing but there's a genuine undertone to the whole proposition. you're smart, you're capable- no reason you wouldn't make a good cop.

you prop yourself up onto your elbow, looking down at him now with a raised eyebrow. "seriously? me? a cop? even if i could see myself doing that, i don't think the brass would look very favourably on whatever this is."

"sweetheart, i am the brass."

you roll your eyes, "yeah, yeah, whatever deputy chief," your phone buzzes on the bedside table where it lies. you roll over to check it.

"i'm just saying, if that was something you were interested in- i could make it happen." he shrugs. you scan your phone's screen, eyes landing on the text message from your roommate.

kendra: u coming? me & megan are waiting for u!!

charlie starts talking, "oh yeah, i've been meaning to tell you, i'm-"

you: shit yeah srry. work asked me to stay late but i can get out of it. be there in 15.

you put your phone back down, quickly getting up from the bed. "shitshitshit," you mutter under your breath, cutting him off & collecting your clothes from around the room. "everything okay?" charlie asks, watching you dart around his room. "yeah, just- fuck, forgot i had plans with my roommates tonight. some new bar or something they wanted to try on the south side?" you redress yourself quickly before walking over to the mirror to fix your hair. he hums in acknowledgement, sitting up from where he lies.

"you gonna be around this weekend?" he asks, pulling his boxers back on and standing behind you in the frame of the mirror. he rests his hands on your hips and kisses your shoulder.

you shake your head, "no, i'm covering a shift tomorrow, and sunday i need to catch up on reading for one of my classes." you turn around to face him, his hands still on your hips and chest flush against yours. you lean forward and press your lips against his.

"sorry," you whisper when you pull away, he pulls you back into him. "don't apologize," he says against your lips, "just stay."

"as much as i would like that," you say through him kissing you, "i already blew my friends off once last week to see you, and i promised i'd go out with them tonight."

"mmm fine," charlie groans, finally letting you pull away. "be safe," he mumbles, kissing you one last time before you head for the door.

the rest of the night is a flurry of low lighting, two too many mediocre cocktails, and guys from your college you didn't know existed getting enough liquid courage to hit on you and your friends.

"come onnn, loosen up a little! just let me buy you one more drink." the drunk frat boy leaning on the bar between you and and your friends slurs. his breath reeking of whiskey and coke. you just roll your eyes, "i told you jason, five or six times already- i'm not interested." jason groans, "no fuckin' fun, you are." with that he turns around, facing kendra and megan now.

megan immediately cocks an eyebrow. "don't even try," kendra quips, earning an overexaggerated huff from the boy, who finally walks away.

you look at your friends, the three of you bursting into a fit of laughter at jason's pathetic attempts. "they never fucking learn." megan shakes her head, speaking through giggles and sips on her drink, "do they think after enough drinks they're finally attractive, or?"

you just shrug, turning back to the bar and flagging down the bartender to order one more of whatever fruity drink you had just finished. kendra smacks your arm, "okay, what's been up with you lately, girl? are you going broke or something, you've been working a lot more lately." megan nods from behind her, "yeah, and hanging out with robin a ton too, what's up with that?"

work and robin have been the excuses you've given your friends for all the time you've been spending with charlie the last two months. you're not necessarily scared to tell them, they probably wouldn't care as much as you think they would, you just... haven't found the right time to tell them. you laugh, "what, are you jealous i have other friends than just you two?"

"yeah, a bit-" megan starts, before kendra cuts her off, "no, not jealous, just... curious, she shrugs, "i saw robin yesterday and she said she hadn't hung out with you for a week or two."

you almost choke on your drink. shit. you didn't think they'd talk to robin, hence why you used her as your cover story. "she was probably high or something, i don't know. i was with her a few days ago," you sputter out, wiping your mouth with a napkin.

kendra smirks, "nope. that girl is high a lot but definitely not this time." you shrug, feeling your cheeks heating up. "you're hiding something, aren't you? what, are you seeing someone?"

they know you too well.

you look back to your drink, taking a sip before trying to change the subject, but your friends aren't having it.

"oh my god! you are totally seeing someone!" megan says, setting her drink down with an emphatic thunk before leaning in. "spill!! what's his name? does he go to uofc? god, please don't tell me he goes to loyola, babe the guys there are absolute nightmares, do you remember my ex luke? he was from loyola and-" she starts on a rant of questions.

"no, no, calm down. he doesn't go to loyola meg, he-" you start, but trail off. you could lie. tell them you're seeing someone from a different school, make up a name and a story of how you met, but you have a feeling they wouldn't buy that.

you take a deep breath. "he isn't exactly a student," you say slowly. they just look at you, eager stares egging you on to elaborate. you sigh again. "he's kind of- like- older." kendra raises her eyebrows, "older? like how much older? like you're only in this for the trust fund he'll leave you when he dies in a few years kind of old?"

"god, no! not that old," you say quickly, "i'm not a gold digger." she shrugs, "i wouldn't blame you, it's rough out here. girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do." megan puts a hand on her shoulder stopping her, "okay, so what like 30? that's not that bad." kendra scoffs, "oh! 30 is not bad at all, is that why you didn't want to tell us? ten years isn't that big of an age gap, i hooked up with a 30 year old once, she was-"

"he's not 30." you say, cutting her off. they raise their eyebrows again.

"40?"

you wince, they gasp.

"50?!"

"no! not yet! not yet! but like... pushing 50."

"oh. my. god!" kendra says, "how the fuck did you manage that?" you take a deep breath, trying to think of the best way to tell the story.

"okay. so. that class you guys didn't want to take with me? crim 324? the policing one?" they nod, "yeah cause it had that terrible fuckin' prof, gladwyn or whatever the fuck. i've heard the horror stories- i was not risking that," kendra says.

you shake your head, "he's not that bad," you defend, before realizing you're getting sidetracked. "anyways! we went on a visit to the cpd ivory tower, the one on south michigan? and he was there, and-" you search for the words, before giving the, a shrug, "i dont know! he told me if i had any questions to give him a call, and- i swear at first i just genuinely wanted to ask about the field but- god, he's really attractive and really charming and i just... i don't know!"

"did you fuck in his office?" megan asks a little too loudly. "no!" you say quickly, shushing her, "no! no... not that time at least." their jaws drop, before they erupt into a fit of laughter.

you roll your eyes, "god, you guys aren't even going to remember this in the morning, are you. i'm gonna have to go through this shit all over again." kendra shakes her head, putting one hand over her heart, "babe, there is no amount of alcohol in the world that could make me forget you telling us you're fucking someone's father."

"he is not someone's father! he doesn't have kids, he's never even been married!" you add quickly, not wanting them to carry on with that train of thought for too long.

"okay, but he could be someone's dad-" she continues before megan cuts her off. "wait. wasn't that tour a while ago? i remember you cancelled our lunch plans for it, like two months ago." kendra gasps, "you've been fucking grandpa for two months and haven't said anything???"

"oh my god, please do not call him grandpa, i promise he is not that old." you shake your head, "and yes. it has been two months. i didn't tell you 'cause i didn't want you guys to freak out- like you are right now."

"we are not freaking out, i'm just... surprised. normally i've got good spidey senses for when people are getting laid." megan shrugs. you laugh, "true." you admit, "you do have a freakish ability to tell that."

the weekend speeds by- saturday you're busy with work, taking an overtime shift to cover for a friend, and spending most of sunday at the library surrounded by textbooks. it doesn't help that you definitely drank too much on friday, remnants of a hangover clinging to you all weekend.

on monday afternoon, you three carpool to your crime control methods class. you drive, kendra's in the passenger seat, megan's in the back, flipping through her textbook. the cap of a highlighter between her teeth as she tries to annotate the pages despite the bumpiness of the ride.

"why the fuck are there assigned readings for a guest lecturer. why do we even have a guest lecturer, can't murphy just do it himself? nobody's going to pay attention anyways." megan huffs, pushing her long blonde hair from her face as she stuffs the textbook back into her bag.

you shrug. "maybe they'll be interesting." kendra looks up from her phone, "they better be. i was planning on skipping today. swear to god if i come all the way here for some pencil pusher to read directly off a paper."

you arrive on campus a few minutes later, finding a parking spot and walking to the lecture hall. you file into the room with everyone else after the class before yours ends, making your way to the middle rows where you normally sit.

you three have sat in the same order since high school: you, kendra, megan- from left to right. your eyes survey the room, it's fuller than normal- people really showed out for the guest speaker. you look around for a moment longer before the door swings open. your professor walks in with who you presume to be the guest speaker.

you can't tell who it is at first, until your professor moves out of the way.

no.

it can't be.

he would have told you. right?

then you remember, he tried to, but you had cut him off with the realization you forgot about plans. he said there was something he was meaning to tell you about- this had to be it.

you turn to face your friends. "that's him."

they're confused at first- a series of huh's and raised eyebrows conveying that. you nod towards the front of the room, "the guest speaker. it's him."

"that's him?" they say, gasping almost in sync. whipping their heads to the door. "don't look! oh my god you guys are idiots, don't look!!!!" you whisper shout at them, they turn back to you, eyes lingering for a second longer.

"ok i take back what i said, he's hot." kendra says, blunt as ever. megan nods, "yeah, damn. when you said he was pushing fifty i imagined someone's grandpa but that's... that's someone's daddy."

"oh my god!?!? shut the fuck up please!!" you beg, shielding your face with your hands, trying desperately to cover the embarrassment you're definitely not hiding well.

another friend, trenton, slides into the seat next to you. "hey, hey. what's going on," he smiles, patting you on the knee & greeting you and your friends when he sits down.

"trent!!" megan smiles, "god, i forgot you were in this class- how are you?" she's had a massive crush on him since they met in first year. they continue on with their conversation across you and kendra, trenton luckily oblivious to your bashful appearance.

"this cannot be happening," you say into your hands. kendra grins mischievously, "so can we meet him after class?" you snap your head up to look at her, "absolutely not." you say quickly. "but what if i have a question about his presentation?" she asks, feigning innocence.

"oh please ken, if it was literally any other speaker you wouldn't even be paying attention." she shrugs, "i have no idea what you're talking about i love to learn."

trenton hears that, "ha! yeah right. you? love to learn?" kendra's jaw drops, "ok, asshole. let's go grade for grade, what'd you get in tanner's class last semester," she crosses her arms, raising one eyebrow as he racks his brain.

their bickering is cut short though, when your professor starts talking.

"alright guys, let's settle down. as promised, today we've got a guest speaker- please welcome the chicago police department's deputy chief of the bureau of organized crime, charlie reid!" the class fills with a sparse applause as your professor takes the microphone off his lapel and passes it to charlie. "you didn't tell us he was a deputy chief," megan leans across and mutters to you.

"thanks everyone, it's nice to be here. think i recognize some faces from the ivory tower tour a few months back." charlie smirks, scanning across the room. a few students nod, having been a part of that group as well. his eyes land on you, throwing you a quick, subtle wink. your face heats up.

a moment later trenton leans in close next to you, "you know this guy?" he asks, voice barely above a whisper, "coulda sworn he just winked at you." you shrug, painting your face with an oblivious look, "i don't think he did, but i was on the tour so maybe he remembers me," you offer as an excuse. "pretty good facial rec from the old dude," he nudges you with his shoulder.

you cover your mouth to stifle your laugh, turning your attention back to charlie at the front of the class. even though he's moved on into his presentation, you notice his gaze lingering on the way you giggled at trenton's joke.

"alright then! if there's no more questions, i guess that's it for me." charlie claps his hands together and presses his lips into a line as the class fills with applause once more. he takes the mic off his collar and hands it back to your professor.

"thank you again, charlie, it's been an honour to have you here." the men shake hands as people begin filing out of the class. "remember, essays are due one week today, and deputy chief reid is going to stick around for a little while if anyone has any questions."

"we are leaving, and we are leaving now." you say to kendra and megan, shoving your laptop back into your bag. "but i wanted to ask what he thinks about manning's 'impossible mandate' for police," megan chimes in, zipping her bag shut and throwing it over her shoulder.

you shake your head, "i'll give you his email."

"come onnn, i just want to ask a question. i swear i won't say anything else." she holds out her pinky. you roll your eyes, wrapping your own little finger around hers, "fine, but i swear to god meg... just the question."

"just the question," she repeats with a smile.

"okayy, you guys have fun with that. i've got psych in 15 minutes so i'm gonna head." trenton pats you on the shoulder before turning to head out of the class.

kendra sighs, "as much as i would love to see what is about to go down, i too have psych in 15 minutes." she shuffles by you in the row, heading to follow trent to their next class.

"have fun!!" she whispers as she walks by you. "yeah, thanks." you say, standing up after she passes, grabbing your bag and following megan down to the front of the class where a few other students stand huddled around.

you turn and rest your forehead on megan's shoulder, "i can't believe this is about to happen." she sighs, "i'm just going to ask a question, babe. i swear." you hear charlie wrapping up with the students ahead of you, thanking them for coming and shaking their hand. you pick your head up off your friends shoulder and take a deep breath.

megan walks forward, smile on her face and hand extended. "hi! i'm megan cassidy, it's super nice to meet you, deputy chief reid!" he shakes her hand, "nice to meet you megan- and please, call me charlie."

megan asks her question, charlie answers- sprinkling in a quick story about his time on patrol. "what about your friend," he turns to you, "you have any questions for me?" he tilts his head, one eyebrow raised.

cocky bastard.

you choke back a laugh, scoff falling from your lips instead, "nope, uh- no. no questions." you smile politely, suddenly very aware of your professor standing nearby and classmates behind you.

"alright then, nice meeting you girls." he nods, smirk evident on his face. megan thanks him again before you're dragging her out of the class by her hand.

"see! that was fine! he's nice!" she says when you're in the hallway. you look at her, eyes squinted a little bit. "you think i'd be sleeping with him if he wasn't nice?"

she shrugs. "maybe the sex is really good." you roll your eyes, shaking your head through a laugh.

"okay, i'm gonna head," you announce, standing up from the couch to put your shoes on. megan looks up at you from above her glasses, turning her attention away from whatever fantasy book she's buried in this week. "going to see mister police man?" she asks, one eyebrow raised.

you nod, "don't have to make shit up when i go see him anymore now that you guys know." you slide on your second shoe and take your car keys from the little cup on the entryway table. there's only one or two actual keys on the ring, the rest of the weight coming from souvenir keychains you've collected over the years.

kendra pops out from the kitchen, drying her hands with a dish towel. "this was much more fun when i thought you'd had your bi awakening and you and robin were secret friends with benefits or whatever."

you look up at her, "oh my god, shut up. you thought i was sleeping with robin?"

she shrugs, "she's hot."

"then why don't you sleep with her, ken."

"oh trust me, i would if she asked me to."

you and megan share a look before you sling your bag over your shoulder, turning to open the door. "have fun getting laid!" megan calls after you, turning her attention back to her book. "thaaank you!!" you reply, shutting the door behind you.

you get into the car and take your phone out to text charlie that you're on your way. the drive to his place isn't long, around 10 minutes- 15 if the traffic lights don't cooperate and you manage to catch every red.

his response to your text comes on your car's center console screen:

charlie: Door is unlocked.

after parking in the driveway you walk up to the door, raising your hand to knock before remembering his message. you drop your hand to the doorknob and open the door.

"i'm here!" you call out into the house, shutting the door behind you and kicking your shoes off. there's no response. normally he's on the couch or in his office, hunched over his laptop and typing furiously.

"charlie?" you try again, stepping into the living room. "yeah, in here," he calls from in the kitchen. you trudge through the house, making your way to him.

"hey," you say quietly, stepping into the kitchen, the sudden cold tile under your feet makes you shiver a little. he's standing over the stove, pushing some scrambled eggs around in a pan. "hey." he replies, not turning his attention from the food in front of him. you walk over and lean on the island opposite where he stands.

"long time no see," you tease, "didn't know you were gonna be our guest speaker." he huffs, still not turning around to face you.

"everything ok?" you say, pushing up on your hands to sit on the countertop.

charlie takes a deep breath. he shuts off the stove and sets down the spatula. he turns around to look at you finally. "you tell me."

you furrow your brows, not entirely understanding his reaction.

"who's blondie." he continued, you squint.

"huh?"

"blonde guy sitting next to you in the lecture today. seemed like you guys were laughin' it up."

it clicks, "trent?"

he shrugs, "whatever the fuck his name is. don't really care." his words are clipped, his jaw set firm.

your eyes widen, "charlie, are you... jealous?"

he tilts his head, "not jealous," he says, taking a step towards you, "i don't get jealous of twenty something frat boys." he keeps his eyes on yours, walking closer slowly. you part your legs when you feel the leather material of his belt brush your kneecaps, he steps in the space between them.

"then what's the problem?" you say, treading very lightly. jealousy was unbroken ground thus far into your relationship, "he's just a friend."

"mm, just a friend," he says under his breath, "all your friends touch you like that?"

you can't help but scoff, "touch me like that?" you repeat slow. "charlie, i've known trent since first year. he lived on my floor in res- he's my friend. sure he can be a little touchy, but he doesn't mean anything by it."

charlie brings his pointer finger and thumb to your chin, tilting your head down ever so slightly. "i don't like when people touch what's mine." he says, low and gravelly.

you gulp.

"yours?" you question , voice barely registering at an audible level.

"mine." he repeats, eyes not wavering from yours for even a second.

"yours." you say again- slowly, tentatively. like you're trying the label on for size.

"yeah," he breathes, trailing his fingers up to your jaw before cradling it in the palm of his hand. the pads of his fingers brush just under your hair on the skin of your neck. charlie leans in, steady- almost careful.

his forehead rests against yours, not quite kissing you yet, "mine," he repeats again, finally pressing his lips against yours. they're soft- so soft. softer than any kiss you've shared these past two months.

it doesn't stay that way for long, quickly escalating to the king of kiss you're used to when his hands travel down to rest on the tops of your thighs, then to your waist to pull you closer to him. your hands find their way into his hair, fingers lacing through the short greying strands at the base of his neck.

one of his hands travels under your skirt, toying with the lace band of your panties, he sneaks a finger underneath it, dragging a slow line from your entrance up to your clit. the tiniest of gasps escapes you and you feel charlie smirk against your lips.

you're practically dripping already- admittedly the reason you came over here.

he moves his finger back down and pushes it slowly inside of you. your slick coating over his digit as he works it slowly inside of you. he's a great multitasker, lips unrelenting against yours, tongue now slipped into the equation.

you swear you could come right now if he let you, just from the sheer emotion of this encounter. the way he called you his- claimed you- it made you weak in the knees.

he takes his finger from your cunt, drawing it up to your clit. he circles it a few times, soaking the bud with your wetness. you whimper when he pulls it away, hand travelling back to the top of your thigh.

he leans back from the kiss. you're both breathless, lips pink and swollen. "lie back," he says, pressing one last kiss to your lips before stepping away. you oblige him, leaning back on to your elbows. charlie drops to his knees, looping his fingers through the waistband of your panties once more, but this time pulling them off your legs in one motion. his face disappears between your legs, salt and pepper hair the only thing you can see beneath your bunched up skirt now.

he starts slow. tongue licking a broad stroke up to your clit, then swirling around it. "fuck" the word leaves your lips through an exhale, your head rolling back. you feel his lips twitch against you in a smirk. he brings his hands up to your thighs, drawing them further apart, then hooking his arms around them, dragging you closer to the edge of the counter- closer to him.

he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking it into his mouth with just the right amount of pressure, a proper moan leaves you now, and your hands find their way to his hair again. you tug at his hair, earning a hum from the man buried between your legs, the sound vibrating deliciously against your pussy.

your back threatens to arch off the counter at the new sensation, but charlie's firm grip around your hips holds you there. he switches up his rhythm now, alternating from harsh sucks to more gentle flicks of his tongue at your clit. he takes one of his hands and slides two fingers into you. you gasp, and he starts to curl his fingers inside you, pumping them in and out quickly to bring you right to the edge.

"please charlie- fuck," you whimper, tugging at his hair and pushing his face against your core, desperate for any kind of friction he can offer. his nose bumps your clit and your eyes roll back in your head. "gonna- fuck," you stutter, words leaving you incoherently. you opt for one word instead, the sound falling from your lips amidst a moan.

"close." you're practically squirming now, charlie's arms flexing as he holds you in place on the counter. you swear you feel him grin against your cunt.

"yeah?" he picks his head up to look at you, his fingers still working inside you. you whine at the loss of contact. "my baby's gonna cum for me? hm?"

my baby.

he's never called you baby before- never called you his before.

you could get used to this.

you nod quickly, eyes cinched shut and sinful noises slipping from your lips. "yeah?" he asks again, one eyebrow raised now.

"ask for permission," he says, admiring the way your body writhes under his touch, "ask me to let you cum."

you open your eyes to look down at him, his lips glossy with a thin layer of your slick. his fingers don't stop curling against your walls, the tips of them rubbing just right on the squishy spot inside you that makes you see stars. the veins and muscles in his forearm flexing just so as he works his fingers in and out of you.

"please, charlie- need it so bad- so fucking bad," you whimper, eyes falling shut again as your senses start becoming overwhelmed.

he makes a satisfied hum, before dipping his head back down between your legs, lips and tongue resuming their earlier motions- laving over your pussy and sucking on your clit.

it isn't long before your vision's overcome with a white static, all your senses only able to register nothing else but how good charlie's making you feel with his mouth and fingers. your orgasm hits and you're crying out his name, fingers pulling harshly on his hair now.

the pleasure washes over you like a shockwave, rippling through your body and tearing moan after moan from your throat. charlie doesn't stop- not for a second. you could swear there are tears brimming at your eyes from the immense sensory input. "too much-" you whine, trying to pull him from between your legs. you feel him shake his head.

"one more," he says against your pussy.

you want to refuse, tell him you can't take it anymore, tell him to stop. but you can't find it in you when what he's doing feels so good. so you nod, your hips subconsciously grinding into his mouth. that only eggs charlie on. his tongue speeds up against your cunt, he sucks harder on your clit and fucks his fingers deeper into you.

it isn't long — actually it's a humiliatingly short amount of time — before you're coming again. orgasm washing over you as the tears that only threatened to spill earlier are flowing freely down your cheeks.

your whole body is quaking when charlie pulls away, he stands up to knead at your thighs to bring you down from your high. when you finally crack your eyes open, chest heaving, you see him looking down at you, taking in your absolutely exasperated figure beneath him.

"good?" he asks, cocky smirk on his face.

"yeah," you breathe.

"good." he says again, his hands travel up to your waist before gripping you there and pulling you off the counter. you squeal as he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder.

"my turn."

he carries you easily up the stairs to his bedroom, practically throwing you into the plush mattress- a stark contrast to the hard, cold, marble slab you were lying on moments earlier. his hands quickly move to his shirt, undoing the buttons easily, then down to his belt, sliding it out of the loops in his pants.

he nods to you, "strip," he says simply, "'m not gonna be the only one naked."

you smile, tugging off your skirt (panties still on the floor of the kitchen probably), then pulling your top over your head and throwing it somewhere in the room.

charlie smirks when he looks back at you. no bra.

he shakes his head, trying to fight the smirk from turning into a smile. "you're too much, you know that?" he walks over to you and kneels on the bed above you before leaning down and kissing you.

his lips feel different than when he kissed you last, although it was only a few minutes ago. they're no longer soft and gentle, but rough and desperate against yours. he moves to stand up off of you but you don't let him- wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him there.

"gotta get a condom," he says against your lips, never pulling away for any longer than necessary.

"don't," you say against his lips, "wanna feel you."

he groans into your mouth at that, his last ounce of control almost snapping- but still holding on for dear life. "but baby, i-"

he starts, but you cut him off with another kiss.

"don't care."

that's all he needs to hear. he reaches down and takes his cock in his hand, positioning it at your entrance. with the amount of slick absolutely dripping out of you from your two earlier orgasms, he glides into you easily.

a downright sinful moan falls from your lips, eyes wrenching shut as you feel him stretch you out. it's different than any time he's fucked you before- you can feel all of him.

every ridge, vein, crevice and bump on his cock presses into you as he eases all the way into your cunt. "fuckin' made for me, hm?" he groans when his hips meet yours, now buried to the hilt inside you.

he doesn't give you long to adjust to the new sensation, too intoxicated with the way your walls hug around him to stay still for any extended period of time. he drags out of you before practically slamming back inside. his head falls to the crook of your neck, kissing and biting and nibbling on the area.

you're sure there will be evidence left behind, you'll definitely get taunts from your friends- but you cannot find it in yourself to care. he keeps thrusting into you, hips stuttering when you clench around him but otherwise maintaining a grueling pace.

one of your hands is wrapped around his back, clawing and scratching at the taut skin, the other is grasping at the sheets- desperate for something to ground you through the pleasure he's bringing you.

you feel yourself getting close, the knot in the pit of your stomach tightening as you come up on your third orgasm of the night. you can tell charlie's getting close too: the noises he's making, the way he stills between thrusts- even if just for a second. you've gotten to know his body well.

"come on," he coaxes, "gimme one last one around my cock."

his words have you coming undone. when you moan his name as you cum, suddenly you're very happy he doesn't live in an apartment- because there would most definitely be noise complaints if he did.

"wh- fuck," he grunts, hips still snapping into you as you cum, "where do you want it," he asks- but a part of him already knows the answer. the way your legs have been wrapped around his waist, urging him deeper into you while he fucks you into the mattress.

"inside," you whimper, body still reeling from your orgasm, "please charlie, need it so bad." his hips don't let up, still rocking into you, but that's all he needs to hear for him to come tumbling over the edge. he spills inside of you — deep inside of you — rhythm never relenting as he comes.

you're starting to feel like it's all too much. too much pleasure, too full of him (his cock and his cum). just too much. tears prick at your eyes again and you swear the feeling, the sensation of him filling you up with his spend has you hurdling towards yet another orgasm.

"good girl," charlie whispers, his hips slow as he fucks you through your last high, silently admiring how pretty the tears look falling from your eyes. he can't help but smirk, knowing he made you feel so good you cried.

one more moment of savouring the feeling before he pulls out of you. both of your breaths hitching when he does. he smiles down at you, pressing one last tender kiss to your lips before he rolls off of you to lie beside you. you sit in comfortable silence for a bit, allowing your heart rates to come back to normal.

"wow," you breathe, staring up at the ceiling. he turns his head to look at you.

"yeah," he sighs, taking in your absolutely fucked out appearance.

"i don't think i've ever come that many times before." you admit, turning your head to look at him now. the corner of his mouth twitches up- you notice.

you smack his shoulder, shaking your head through a laugh. "don't get cocky, your ego's big enough as it is." he smiles, "mhmm, i'll try my best." that smile is hard not to reciprocate. you turn on your side to face him, lips pulled high in your own satisfied smile.

you catch a glimpse of the alarm clock over him, you sigh- it's late. "i guess i should get going," you whisper.

that's been your arrangement these past couple months. you fuck, either at his place or in his office, then you go home- not trying to give your friends any reason to be suspicious.

charlie grabs your wrist. you look at him, met with those hypnotic hazel eyes- a different sort of look in them now though.

"stay." he says. simple.

your first instinct is to protest. tell him you can't, that you've got a reason to be up early tomorrow or don't want your friends to worry. but then, you remember- they know. you don't have to dance around this relationship anymore, don't have to come up with cover stories for every time you go out. if you want to stay the night, you can stay the night.

"yeah?" you ask, he nods.

"yeah." he tugs at your wrist gently. you smile, allowing him to pull you by the arm to rest your head on his chest. he sighs, not in any kind of annoyance or negative emotion, just- contentment. you let your eyes flutter shut, leg swinging over to tangle with his. he presses a kiss to the top of your head, his free hand coming up to trace along your back.

it feels... nice. lying here with him. feels right.

you think you could stay here forever.

...

AAAAAA I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!!! pls let me know what u think in the comments&reblogs and lmk if u want me to continue with these two!!!

tags for those who asked & charlie reid truthers !!! > @melancholyy-hill , @polaris-daydreams , @aryacoulson , @biomedicalshark , @erwinsvow (i hope this cures ur depression from last nights ep <3)

[juicykvnture]

ONE OF YOUR GIRLS

camboy!DickGrayson x fem!reader

tags: AFAB reader, only a HINT of plot, mutual masturbation, phone sex, webcam use, praise kink, mild degradation, nicknames (angel/baby), college AU

a/n: GULP

wc: 3k | part 2 | Masterlist

DESPERATE SLUTS IN YOUR AREA - the pop-up ads on your laptop are mocking you, you swear.

Girl, you know there are desperate sluts in your area, you own a mirror.

Well.. It’s somewhere down the bottom of a moving box, tossed in a van along with basically everything you own and all hopes of entertaining yourself.

Okay, well you could get started on the pile of college assignments you’re yet to start and the content you need to familiarise yourself with.

But be serious, you’d rather familiarise yourself with some guy to bang you right about now - but we can’t all get what we want, can we?

Your roommate isn’t even moving in until tomorrow, so that’s a plus at least. You’ve got the dorm room to yourself.

It’s how you ended up scrolling for the last half hour, your underwear tugged halfway down your thighs as your half lidded eyes scan the glow of the laptop screen before you.

You gave up on the hub a long time ago, if you wanna get off to something, you’d honestly rather be sure it’s at least ethical, yknow?

To your dismay, every author you follow on tumblr hasn’t updated in a solid week, Twitter is a fucking minefield for hell knows what and you swear you’d end up arguing with someone in a thread before you’d find something you’d actually enjoy.

You rub some mascara out of your eyes, your lashes fluttering open slightly. You can only pray you don’t look like a raccoon right now, just in case your wishes did in fact come true and some guy is just gonna magically appear between your legs to actually fuck you.

You’re not sure why, but eventually you find a link that catches your eye.

It’s one of those cam-chat sites, the ones that claim to match you with people within a couple mile radius of you.

You’re hesitant at first, but they’re not asking you for your credit card information, so honestly, What the fuck have you got to lose?

It’s seen better days definitely, by the looks of things it probably hasn’t been updated since like 2007.

But hey, fuck it. Even if it’s literally just some bot or a dude at a call center, at least you won’t feel as bad. It’s not like you’ll ever meet this stranger in real life anyway, you literally have nothing to lose but an ounce or two of your dignity and self respect.

Eh, you’ve done worse.

ENTER USERNAME

Okay, no point using your name. You’d swear you’d have a heart attack if someone you knew somehow found this shit.

You pause for a second, glancing around for inspiration, your room key on your nightstand, dorm 444.

@444ANGEL

Cliche, you’ll live.

ENTER RANDOM CHAT

Straight to the point, alright.

MATCHED WITH - @BLUUDHAVEN

Desperate sluts in Blüdhaven too apparently? Ain't too far - Ain't too close either though. See you could run into him downtown, but you don't leave your dorm, be serious.

@BLUUDHAVEN: u up?

You blink, staring at your screen. What the fuck is this, Snapchat?

@BLUUDHAVEN: that was awful I’m sorry :p

That stupid little face at the end earns a small huff, nice to know someone still respects the art of emoticons over emojis in the big 25.

@444ANGEL: so.. u come here often?

Girl lock in. This is a porn site, not a bar.

@BLUUDHAVEN: No, actually :)

@BLUUDHAVEN: I do cams sometimes but I’ll be honest I’m literally just here to jerk off :3

“Huh..” you mutter to yourself, at least he’s got a sense of humour?

@444ANGEL: so you’re a slut by trade?

@BLUUDHAVEN: Not by trade, but at heart

@444ANGEL: so how does this work.. are you gonna like whip it out or..

@BLUUDHAVEN: first time I take it? Might be easier on webcam? :p

Okay, logical. You’ll have your hands free!

You’re hesitant for a moment, staring at your laptop. Okay, he doesn’t need to see your face, right? You’re just gonna chat to him for a while.. see where it goes?

You’re fiddling with the Angel wing on your necklace, thinking. Shifting slightly, you sit back against your headboard, your laptop on the mattress.

JOIN WEBCAM

You’re met with him shoving a stack of books off of his desk, one of them eerily similar to the sociology text book you’ve got shoved in a moving box, somewhere between your vibrator and your favourite sweater.

But that's not important right now!

“Hey, Angel.” He says all too quickly, running his fingers through his tousled black hair.

“Who-“ Your eyebrows furrow slightly.

“Your username,” he smiles softly, knowingly, reclining in his desk chair.

Fuck, he's definitely noticed how much of a noob you are now now.

And you’ve noticed he’s definitely shirtless. Zoo-wee-mama! You’ve also noticed some little blue tattoo at the base of his neck. But that’s not here nor there, you know what’s there? His happy trail.

In your defence his hand is right there, thumb hooked in his grey sweats. Where else you meant to look?

“Second thoughts?”

You blink, his words snapping you out of your happy daze.

“Huh? No, no thoughts. Wait, I mean-“

“It’s okay to be nervous, we can take it chill,” he reassures you, never loosing that grin.

“Chill yeah, chill,” downstairs is anything but chill she was very warm in fact.

“Do you want to get more comfortable maybe?”

“Oh, I’ve actually got this really fluffy blanket-“

“I meant take your clothes off, baby,” he looks directly into his webcam, clearly amused as he drums his fingers against his waistband.

You swallow, pressing your thighs together.

Are you seriously about to take your clothes off for a really cute stranger? Yeah, you are.

You can only pray you’re wearing one of your better, slightly cuter bras tonight.

Your fingers curl into the thin fabric of your shirt, bunching the white cotton up and pulling it over your head, hitting the wooden floor with a soft thump.

“Fuck,” He mumbles under his breath, his hands clenching on his knees as he shifts his hips, the grey sweatpants doing little to hide the outline.

You take that as a good reaction, chewing on the insides of your cheeks as you lean back against your headboard.

“Nervous?” He prompts, his hand palming himself over his boxers.

“A little?” You offer a shaky sigh, grateful that he can’t see the embarrassing blush on your face.

“I’ll talk you through it.”

That’s the second time a guy you’ve never fucking met in your whole life has made you irrationally flustered. Fuck, you need to touch grass.

Or yourself, whatever works.

“Sounds good,” you laugh slightly, letting your hand trail along your cleavage, fiddling with the lace.

He nods, “Good.” Ever so subtly, you see his hand start to move, gently trailing his fingers along his bulge.

“Do you want to start slow, trace your nipples for me baby? Can you do that for me Angel?”

You blink for a moment, your teeth pressing into your bottom lip. You find yourself listening to him, offering a small nod as your hand drifts down to lightly trace over the fabric.

“Yeah?” He murmurs, his hips shifting lightly, his fingers tugging at the drawstrings of his sweatpants.

You nod, once again grateful he can’t see your face as your hand moves down lower between your ribcage, pausing for a moment once you get to your stomach, your hand clenching slightly.

He sees your hesitation, tilting his head back slightly as he watches the screen through his dark lashes.

“You okay to keep going?”

He can just barely see you nod again, and his hand brings out his pulls his length from his sweatpants.

“Yeah? Good fucking girl,”

And that’s all you needed to slip your hand beneath the cotton of your panties. “Fucking shit,” all that pent up tension of from all night (morning?), and the general sight of this Blüdhaven guy, making you head lol back against your headboard.

“Christ you sound gorgeous, let me hear you Angel? Please?”

Your heads spinning, you’ve never had to think about how you sound, never thought of the possibility that someone could ever hear you.

But here you are, and he’s all too eager.

With a muttered “fuck,” you nod again, spreading your thighs apart to offer him a better view, your fingers moving in slow circles over your clit under the fabric.

He’s watching you. His gaze fixed on his screen like he’s mesmerised by you, watching your lips part, your lashes flutter, everything about you. You’re not real, no way you are. You’re too fucking pretty and he’s never even met you.

His cock twitches in his hand, and he groans shakily. “So fucking pretty”

You blush, dipping your finger lowers before circling back up. “not so bad yourself,” you try to sound some way put together and he chuckles at your efforts.

“You have me so worked up Angel, and I’ve only seen your pretty tits, Christ. Take off your panties baby, let me see what you like.”

You’re astonished that you don’t even hesitate to use your other hand to slide down the fabric, kicking it to your ankles.

“Fuck baby you look so sweet, look at your screen for me, see how pretty your little cunt is,” your eyes immediately go to the little square in the corner, you’re completely soaked.

“Ain’t that a pretty sight huh baby?”

You flush red at the praise, managing to get a meek “mhm,” out.

“You’re so fucking wet, shit she’s practically glistening for me. So wet over a guy you’ve never met, hmm?”

Fuck, you’re embarrassed now. It’s bad enough that you’ve already had to resort to a fucking chat site, but now you’re getting off on the fact that he’s a total stranger?

“You’re making fun of me,”

“No,” a grin, “It’s cute,”

That has you losing whatever train of thought you had, your head slumping forward for a split second, giving him a glimpse of your hair covering your face before you catch yourself again.

“You pull this shit with all of your girls?”

It’s a weak rebuttal, but you’re not thinking about that, you’re not thinking at all.

“And guys,” he says sliding his thumb along his slit, collecting the bead of pre cum there and dragging it south. His eyes remain on his screen at all times, looking at you through his dark lashes.

“Fuck,” you gasp.

“Articulate,” he cocks his head.

“Shut up and stroke your shit.”

“Well I think we both know how aware you are that I’m stroking my shit, Angel,” his stupid little smirk, a shiver running along your spine.

He’s so fucking infuriating that you have the urge to hop through the screen and choke him, or fuck him - or both.

But that’s a bold claim considering the fact you’re drooling over a stranger, acting like his hands are yours. Wishing for a lot more than his hands.

“Shocked you have customers, your bedside manner isn’t really up to par,” you pause in the middle to let out a contradictory whine.

“Well your pretty pussy seems to be all for a little humiliation don’t think? Fuck I wish I could fuck her right now,” this pussy pronoun using bastard needs to calm down with all these reads.

“Shut up,” your eyes roll back, willing yourself to not cum yet.

“C’mon you can’t tell me you don’t wish I was there with you huh? Touching you, licking you, pounding into your sweet little hole hm?” His pace is getting faster and his palm swirls over his tip on each stroke.

“Shut the fuck up,” she gasps eyes screwed shut, “self involved prick,”

“Oh fuck baby, you talk to me so sweetly, what else am I?” His eyes are locked on the screen, your hand moving, your mouth letting out those desperate, divine sounds.

“Annoying, and arrogant and so fucking hot,” you hope the almost shout you let out is enough to distract him from what you’ve said.

“What was the last one Angel? C’mon let me hear that again,”

“So fucking desperate for someone to tell you you’re hot, huh? That why you whore yourself out on a cam website huh? You’re that thirsty for attention,”

In that moment, it isn’t clear what’s weaker, your dorms internet connection or his self control.

His mouth is agape, sweat-slicked hair clinging to his forehead with his lashes fluttering, fucking himself into his fist like he’s some kind of porn-star (he ain’t far off).

Watching him only makes you go harder, your hips shaky as you watch his teeth press into his lip, unable to hide the fucking whines he’s letting out if he tried, acting like the cum starting to drip down his knuckles isn’t there, pretending he’s fucking you and not his hand like some loser.

“Fuck, Angel,”

He’s panting, his back arching off of his desk chair as his free hand goes to desperate grip the table, trying to control himself, to last at least another second,

“C’mon, Angel, fuck..”

His words aren’t more than a broken whine, much like yours as your thighs start to tremble, forgetting about your laptop on your bed for a moment.

He doesn’t stop, he can’t. Not until he knows you’re there too, not until he knows for sure that you’re wishing he was there beside you.

“Please, fuck, please cum with me.”

Your resolve snaps, you oblige him. Head thrown back, eyes screwed shut and a noise complaint from your neighbours in all directions.

You momentarily black out you think, but when you come back that Blüdhaven guy is leaning back against his chair, head rolled back. He looks like he been put through the tumble dryer a good four times, but looking at the mess in his hands you’d think he had a pretty good time.

“Holy shit,” holy shit, you just had perhaps one of the most phenomenal orgasms of your life, with some guy on the internet and your fingers.

“Hmm,” he practically moans, still in a daze with his head thrown back, this angle making that little tattoo at the base of his neck more visible.

“You alive over there?” You manage to croak out, your heart still slamming in your chest as you let your hand fall by your side, almost wincing at the loss of touch.

“Uh-huh,” His Adam’s Apple bobs in his throat, staring down at his hand and then back up at his screen, a broken grumble leaving him as he nods.

You’re not real, you genuinely have to be some kind of Angel. He’s never met anyone able to put him into such a state.

Well, he hasn’t met you either.

“Angel?” He mumbles breathlessly, praying that the dim light is enough to hide the flush of his cheeks.

“Yeah?”

“Leave me your number?”

He swallows,

“Please?”

“Shit,” you groan into your hand at the sound of knocking on your dorm room door, rubbing a hand over your face.

It’s probably one of those stupid campus committee things going around. You’re not bothered to open the door, they can come back later for all you care.

You can’t get the guy from last night out of your head. You gave him your number under the premise of living on the edge for once in your life. You don’t expect him to call you, you don’t expect to see him like.. ever.

He does this like professionally, you’re just one of his girls - not even.

Another knock to the door disturbs your peace again, the sound of shoes shuffling outside your door.

“Give me a minute!”

You pull on a tank top, fixing your hair in an attempt to look somewhat decent when you inevitably have to open the door and tell these early birds to fuck right off.

You stumble out of your bedroom with a grumble, your socked feet thumping lightly against the creaky flooring.

“Hey, I’m not interest-“

Fuck.

There he is in the fucking flesh, standing at your door with a sheepish smile and a moving box.

You blink, digging your fingers into your palm to snap yourself out of whatever fucked up sex dream you’re having right now, staring at the guy standing in your doorway.

“Hey, this is room 444 yeah? I just got assigned here and I’m fucking lost.” He lets out a soft chuckle, rooting around in his pockets in efforts to show you his own key.

“Yes?” You murmur, the shakiness in your tone doing little to hide how aghast you are.

You have to double check, glancing over him like he’s got three fucking heads. He’s got the messy black hair, the boyish grin, that fucking tattoo at the base of his neck.

“Hey, you alright?”

His words snap you out of it, your nails digging into the doorframe like you’re about to rip the entire thing from its hinges.

“Yeah?”

You’re met with a slightly awkward nod, a far cry from whatever the fuck happened last night.

“Okay, good. I’m sorry I’m early, the train from Blüdhaven is a whole mess.”

You tilt your head, staring at him.

“Shit, my bad. Uhm, name’s Dick, Dick Grayson.” He offers, one hand fumbling to keep the box he has upright, the other now extended towards you.

Those same hands you wish were the ones fucking you last night, fuck, you need to lie down.

“Hey,”

Your words are far fucking shakier than you’d like, but how are you supposed to react?

He smiles, stepping inside your now shared dorm, glancing around and then at your slightly dishevelled form, offering another one of those little smiles that genuinely make you want to curl up and die on the spot.

“Rough night?”

He ain’t got a fucking clue.

“No, I uh, I couldn’t sleep, I guess.”

He nods, setting his box down on the coffee table, his eyes roaming over you for a moment more.

“Nice necklace.”

“Hm?” You blink.

“The Angel thingy, it’s cute.”

a/n: ITS TONGUE IN CHEEK DANIELLE!!

thank u @ccmf02 for proofreading and everything!!

part 2

Thank you for reading!!

I have motivation so reqs/asks are open

[daisynik7]

[M4F] Husband Catches You Listening to Audio P*rn, Teaches You a Lesson [Soft Mdom] [Established Relationship] [Mild Degradation] [Praise] [Overstimulation] [Multiple Orgasms] [Creampie]

Pairing: husband!Nanami x f!reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

cw: established relationship, p*rn no plot, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), sex toys, mutual masturbation, fingering, cunnilingus, sex without a condom, creampie, overstimulation, soft dom!Nanami, breeding kink, mild degradation (use of slut and whore), praise, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, pet names (honey, sweetie, sweetheart, princess, baby)

Summary: Nanami comes home early from his business trip and catches you doing something naughty in your bedroom. Author’s Note: Inspired by all the audio porn VAs that I listen to! Special shoutout to @mrsackermannx for raving about AugustInTheWinter with me. If you have not listened to him yet, PLEASE check him out, he’s incredible. Also, I’m clearly very delulu for Nanami currently, considering this is the third piece I’ve written for him within a week, but hey, this is my outlet! So I hope you enjoy! MDNI divider created by @/cafekitsune. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading!

Your skin is sweltering against the sheets, sweat damp on your forehead and neck. Thighs are apart, vibrator buzzing on your clit, sleek with lube and arousal. You’re home alone; Nanami doesn’t return until tomorrow morning. Still, the thought of the audio porn playing on speaker makes you shy, so you have both earbuds in, listening to the sultry tones of your favorite voice actor moaning expletives directly into your ear. Such a good girl, oh fuck. You feel so good, sweetheart. Take that cock for me. You are so fucking tight, holy shit. The added sound effects of thwapping and wet squelches in the background immerse you into a state of erotic bliss, gushing for the second time tonight from the sensation of the toy pulsing on your throbbing bud.

“What do we have here?”

You jolt up when you hear your husband’s voice from the doorway, startled to see him standing there, leaning against the frame with a serious look on his face. His spectacles are on, covering his eyes, which you can tell are boring into you in this lewd position. 

Popping your headphones off, you hide the vibrator under the pillow, as if he hasn’t already caught you red-handed. Closing your legs, you bat your eyelashes, feigning an innocent expression. “Honey! What are you doing here?” More heat rushes into your cheeks, scorching hot from your recent orgasm and current embarrassment.  

He steps forward, sitting at the far edge of the bed, avoiding your gaze by staring at the floor, acting disappointed. “I managed to catch an earlier flight. Wanted to surprise you.” Dramatic, he turns to face you, eyes narrowed through his tinted lenses. “It appears that I am the one being surprised.” 

Biting your lip to hold back your laughter, you crawl towards him, naked from the waist down, your panties discarded on the floor near his feet. He’s not actually upset; having been together long enough and in tune with each other’s emotions, you can tell that he isn’t seriously mad at you. This is a role he indulges in occasionally: stoic, strict husband with a mean streak when things don’t go his way. And you know exactly where this will lead to, so naturally, you play along. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t think you would be coming home tonight. I just thought I’d have a little bit of fun.” You massage his shoulders, nuzzling your face to his nape, giving him a loud smooch. 

He shifts around in the bed, confronting you. “What were you listening to?” There’s legitimate curiosity in his voice, and now genuine guilt builds in your chest upon his question. 

You swallow hard, anxious to admit the truth, too ashamed to lie to him. “Um, I was listening to porn. Audio porn.”

He raises a brow at you, confused. Then, he says, “Let me hear it.”

Reluctantly, you reach for your phone on the nightstand, resuming from where you paused. Wet slaps blare through the speaker, then a man’s voice, moaning, “Ah fuck, let me hear you. Let me hear you moan on my cock. Let me hear you take this cock. Yeah, like that baby, take it just like that.” 

You bury your head in your hands, absolutely mortified as the pornographic dialogue continues. The audio comes to a halt when Nanami stops it, silently tapping at the screen. You’re still hiding in disgrace, squeezing your legs together tightly to conceal the evidence of your supposed sin. The tension is palpable, with neither of you speaking or making any sudden movements. You’re dying to know what he’s thinking, simultaneously terrified of his judgement. 

He clears his throat; you peek through your fingers to catch him loosening his tie around his collar, removing the glasses from his face. He’s blushing, brows tight with contemplation. “Did you come to this?” he asks, almost breathless. 

You lower your hands, fisting them into the sheets beneath you, nodding. Anticipating. 

“Show me,” he demands, eyes at your lap. Too eagerly do you spread your legs, displaying your sopping cunt to him, staring at his lips part slightly, a barely audible growl resounding within his throat. Your uneasiness gradually slips into arousal, aching to be touched, even punished, by your formidable husband. He bows, licking his mouth, inspecting you like prey he’s about to devour. Flicking his eyes to yours, he mutters, “You’re a dirty slut for listening to this filth. Have you no shame?” He kneels before you, unbuttoning his dress shirt, exposing the white tee underneath. Chiseled chest and abs carved into the fabric like fucking marble. 

Losing composure, you blurt out, “No shame, absolutely none. I’m fucking filthy.” Your pussy aches, toes clenched, thrilled. 

“I can’t stand you listening to another man’s voice while you get off. It makes me sick thinking about it. Makes my blood fucking boil.” His tone is menacing in way that titillates every inch of your skin, has you shuddering from the low growl at the end of each sentence. 

“Are you going to punish me?” you goad, saliva collecting on your tongue, heavy with lust.

“I can think of something better.” Reaching for your phone, he navigates through it, finding your voice recorder app. He taps on the big red button, setting it beside you. “From now on, you only come to my voice. Got it?”

You swallow hard, almost chocking on your spit when you respond, “Yes. Yes, baby.”

He grins, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he cups your cheek tenderly. “Good girl.” His thumb traces the outline of your parted lips, your mouth inviting him in. But he doesn’t, leaning back on his wrists, observing you with the obvious bulge protruding from his slacks. “Get that vibrator. Show me how you do it.”

Obeying, you search for it under the pillow, retrieving it to rub the tip up and down your folds, finger on the trigger. “There you go,” he encourages, a cocky smirk on his face, slowly unbuckling the belt around his waist, sliding it from the loops and tossing it aside. “Tease it a little before you turn it on. Make sure it’s exactly where you want it.” 

You tap the toy on your swollen bud, already sensitive from your earlier climax. You meet his gaze, waiting for a signal. He slides out of his pants and briefs, revealing his erection sprung against his belly. Before he does anything else, he grabs your phone and sets it on the bed between you. Palming his length, he grins. “Go ahead.” 

What a fucking menace he can be.

Pushing the button, the vibrator immediately pulsates on you, causing you to twitch from the intense sensation. He watches, fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking himself, thumb grazing the slit. “Look at you. My gorgeous girl,” he purrs. “My perfect angel with the prettiest pussy. Can’t wait to stretch you open with this cock. Bury myself deep inside you. Fill you up with my cum.”

“Fuck, Kento,” you whimper, pressing the fluttering tip firmer, sweat beginning to bead on your forehead. You’ve always loved his hands; how pristine they are with his knuckles tight on his skin. Large, strong, then rough on the pads of his fingers from hard work and constant use. They’re even prettier in a fist surrounding his cock, wrist jerking hastily, precum glistening at the tip. Your entire focus is on him touching himself while he watches you do the same, the toy’s low hum enhanced when it’s snugly nestled to your clit. 

“You like it when I talk nasty to you, huh?” he huffs, readjusting himself nearer to you. He’s so close, you can practically feel the tip of his cock at your quivering pussy. “Is it better than listening to your ridiculous pornography?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whine, jutting your hips out, attempting to close the gap. 

“Unlike them, I can actually touch you,” he muses, his tip teasing your entrance. “I can do whatever I want, whatever you want. They don’t get to fuck this sweet cunt like I get to. They don’t get to taste you the way I do.” 

Suddenly, he grabs the vibrator from your grasp, shutting it off and setting it back under the pillow. He shifts down the bed, positioning his head between your thighs, diving in tongue first onto your puffy clit. Pleasure resonates from your core throughout your limbs, legs shaky and mind hazy as he slobbers all over you, covering your bud in his frothy spit. It’s sloppy, salacious, straight up nasty. After only a few strokes of his tongue, it’s already enough to send you into your third orgasm of the night, more powerful than the first two combined when you were alone. 

You’d be a fool to expect him to let up after coming once with him; still, it shocks you when he doesn’t stop. He latches to you harder, suckling on your sensitive clit until it’s plump between his glossy lips and you’re crying out, “Too much!” overstimulated and spasming above him. Sometimes, when he’s in one of these moods, he forgets his own virility, always so keen on making you orgasm multiple times in one go. Tonight, he forgets that you had already been prepping yourself since earlier. With a gentle kiss, he relents, indulging in his work by running his tongue along your gushing pussy, drinking up your cum. He reaches for his cock, stiff between his stomach and the bedsheets under him. On his knees, he returns to his spot from earlier, stroking his cock with the tip just barely in your entrance. 

You’re absolutely spent, but you yearn for him inside you, desperate to be filled with his load. “Come in me, baby,” you beg, gripping his wrist to pull him closer. “Fuck me.” 

He lets out a disapproving tsk, shaking his head. “Not yet, princess. You have to be patient. We’re just getting started,” he smirks, stroking himself faster. “Are you just so fucking needy for my cum?” You nod erratically, tempted to thrust yourself onto him. 

“Then beg for it,” he orders, sliding his cock the slightest bit further inside you. “Convince me that you deserve it.”

Understanding what he wants, you retrieve your little toy again, rubbing small circles with it on your bud, smearing whatever is left of your orgasm around it. “Please, Kento. Please. I need it. I need it.”

The sight of you like this has him dangling on the very edge, so close to climax. “Turn it on,” he demands. You do, the buzz electrifying all the nerves in your body yet again. You chant his name over and over until he shoots insides you, spurts of opaque cum flooding your pussy. “Yes, yes. Good girl. Take that fucking cum. Take all of it. Fuck.” His voice is hushed, breathy and trembling from the high. 

You stop the vibrator, tossing it to the floor carelessly. Nanami crawls next to you, cradling you in his arms. With a kiss to your forehead, he whispers, “Are you okay?” 

You smile, turning to face him, nuzzling his chest. “Of course.”

He caresses your face, trailing down your body to rest his hand at your waist. He glances at your phone beside you. “We’re still recording, you know.”

You giggle. “And…?”

He kisses you softly, tongue flitting past your lips, guiding you flat on your back, spreading your legs apart. “I’m not done with you yet.” His hand glides to your loins, toying with your swollen clit before teasing your entrance, brimming with his creampie. “Can you still take it, sweetheart?”

You nod, breath hitching, cuddling closer to him. Smiling sweetly at you, he eases a finger in, cum overflowing your pussy and trickling out from your slit. He slides in another easily, stretching you open, a whine escaping you. His mouth is hot on your ear. “You love this, don’t you? Me finger fucking my cum deeper inside you. Taking it like an obedient whore.” He picks up the pace, your cunt clenching his digits. ��I’m going to get you pregnant tonight. Breed you, make you mine. You want that, sweetie?” His fingers writhe inside you, hitting that sweet spot repeatedly until you’re tight around him, ready for another orgasm. At this point, you’ve stopped keeping count, lost in a sex-fueled craze instigated by your husband. 

“Yes, Kento. Give it to me. I want it. I want it so bad.” You notice he’s hard again, his erection stiffening against your leg. Reaching for him, you rub your hand on his length, feeling it twitch from your touch.

“Fuck,” he groans, pulling out from you. He sits up, back to the headboard, beckoning. “Get on my lap. Hurry,” he urges, hoisting you towards him. You straddle him, guiding his cock to your entrance. “Sink down on it. There we go,” he instructs, eyes wide, desperation etched in his tone. He needs this just as much as you do, and it drives you wild. You follow his command, lowering yourself onto him, his dick sliding in smoothly, bottoming out. “That’s my good girl. Fuck. You’re so good to me. So fucking good to me.”

You start riding him the way he likes, your ass slapping loudly on his thighs. He’s moaning endlessly, throwing in the occasional fuck and pet name as he grips your hips, bouncing you on his cock. You wrap your arms around his neck to keep steady, holding him tightly. “Want your cum,” you manage to utter, enraptured in the scorching pleasure he surrounds you in. 

He's fucking up into you, feet planted at the end of the bed. The mattress creaks with every thrust of his cock. In a huffy breath, he says, “Milk it out of me, honey. Milk me fucking dry. You can do it sweetheart; I know you can.” The praise encourages you to ride him faster, rougher, your bodies in tandem, springing on the bed, moaning into each other’s mouth with a passionate kiss. 

Soon, he pulsates inside you, stuffing you even fuller with his cum. You climax once more, gripping his cock with your fluttering pussy. He cradles you in a cozy embrace, catching his breath, nuzzling his nose to your chest. You giggle, running you fingers through his hair, smooching the top of his head. “You okay?” you ask, wiping the perspiration from his forehead.

He nods, exhaling deeply. “Just let me hold you. Need to calm down.”

You laugh, amused by his current state of post-coital euphoria. Fetching the phone teetering precariously at the edge of the bed now, you tap on the red button to stop the recording. Seeing this, he mentions, “You know I don’t actually mind you listening to that kind of stuff, right?” 

You smile, noticing the guilt in his voice, massaging his back. “I know, honey. I know you don’t.”

He squeezes you, taking a deep breath. “Okay, good. Just want to make that clear.”

You cup his cheek, thumb caressing the stress lines along his face, gradually relaxing to your touch. “If it makes you feel any better, I’d much rather listen to this than some stranger on the Internet.”

Chuckling, he replies. “Maybe it makes me feel a little bit better.” He snuggles closer to you, hugging you tight, reluctant to let you go. Eventually, the two of you slip beneath the covers, getting comfortable with Nanami spooning you from behind.  

You glance at the screen, showing the several minute long recording and the play button adjacent to it, ready to be tapped. “So,” you start, craning your neck to smirk at him. “Should we give it a listen?”

He returns your grin, shifting beside you, cock growing hard between your ass cheeks. “Absolutely.”

[wandaslittlepsycho]

Precious

pairing: 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢!𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 ༝༝ 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

summary: your bunny slips through the crack of your front door and you run after her in hopes of catching the pet again. You get lost but your time still ticks, nightfall inching closer and closer as you inevitably sink further into the woods. Luckily, your eyes spot a cabin, and you become acquaintances with the unusual redhead that resides there.

warnings: dubcon, filthy smutty smut smut, HEAVYYYY dacryphilia, groping, dry humping, praise kink, thigh riding (r receiving), mid writing, wanda is lowkey a sadist, slightly unhinged crazy yet loveable and sexy cabin wanda, age gap > r is 20 w is 32

A/N: first fic!!! hi… im very new to writing fics so please be nice ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝<꒱ྀིა (i wrote this listening to a true crime documentary idk)

kind of a messy plot but I still hope my little freaks enjoy…… and I’m also sorry this took longer than expected I just kept contemplating if it was good or absolute shit </3

+

this is a dark fic. 18+. wlw. men & minors dni!

⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘

It’s getting pretty late…

You think to yourself, hugging your shoulders as you look up at the overcast sky.

How did I end up here in the first place?

✦

You move a leaf to the side and pick the fresh strawberry that was stashed there, rinsing it in your small bucket of water and taking a mouthful of the delicious treat.

You hear a shuffle beside you. Turning your head, you see a white bunny hiding behind one of your sunflower pots. You smile and place another strawberry onto the ground before slowly walking away. Your eyes relish how cute the little animal is as they chomp away at your colourful fruit.

You stand in the corner of your garden and decide from then on, you’d feed the hungry bunnies that would stroll into your neighbourhood.

A few days pass and you quickly became friends with two specific bunnies who you named Clover and Daisy. You eventually took them in as your own, rottenly spoiling both of the creatures. You loved having them around because living alone in a small town that was an hour away from the city can definitely become lonely.

“This tastes like candy to you doesn’t it Daisy?” You say as you hold out your hand and watch her nibble it up. The fur around her mouth is stained purple, you laugh at the sight.

“Okay that’s enough blueberries for tonight! You’ll get sick if you keep eating those.” You click the plastic container shut, standing up and walking into your kitchen. You place the container in the side compartment of your fridge for tomorrow and stroll back into your living room.

Your brows furrow. Daisy is gone. Daisy and Clover are such good bunnies, they never leave your sight for more than a minute. You assume she ran to her sister Clover, but your eyes widen in horror when you see your front door slightly more cracked open than it was before you left.

You anxiously open your phone and dial your best friend Frankie. You ramble to her about how stupid you felt for leaving the door open, like you are an irresponsible parent who’s no smarter than a bag of rocks. She calmly tells you to go look for Daisy and that she’ll come over as soon as she can to watch Clover.

“Thank you so so much, Frankie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You sigh in relief, a hand pressed over your chest. You feel your heart jump underneath your palm and your lips trembling with every breath.

“It’s no problem, Y/N/N. Now go look for that bunny, I’ll be over in 5.”

“Bye, thank you again..” You hang up the phone and dart out the door. You frantically look through your shrubs and call her name, but a bright white spot in your peripheral steals your attention.

There she is, bouncing her way into the open forest across the road from you. As soon as she hops out of your view you race towards her, carelessly running past two moving cars. You ignore the frustrated yelling and the beeping horns, continuing to boost into daisies direction.

“DAISY! WAIT!!”

You yell, but your shouting only seems to spur her on. You run after her and neither of you lose pace. You turn corners, run through mud and almost slip doing so at least two times. The animal suddenly picks up it’s speed, turning abruptly and disappearing into a thick bush. You get on your knees and practically rip this bush to shreds, but she was already long gone. Daisy is no more.

You feel tears sting your eyes, ears and cheeks becoming hot from your stress. You sniffle and wipe your tears with the sleeve of your jacket. You knew it was impossible to look for her now. That bunny became your life in just a couple of days, she felt like a childhood pet. The thought of never seeing her again made your heartstrings tie themselves into knots.

You lose the path you were on but you couldn’t care less. You lost your beloved bunny baby; life is no longer worth living. You wonder if Clover’s okay, and how exactly you’d break the news to her.

So lost and full of woe, mind not even switched on, you didn’t notice the thick tree root in front of you until you stub your foot against it and fall forward. You wince and slowly stand up again. Dusting the crunchy leaves off of your clothes, you use the back of your hand to wipe the dripping bead of blood from your cheekbone.

Great, a cut. I’ll have to clean that up when I get home..

You wonder aimlessly with your head hung low. A brisk breeze that brushes past you is what makes you finally look up.

You hug your shoulders as you stare at the gloomy airspace. The sun isn’t beaming, only a variation of different grey clouds flood the sky.

A person? This far out on in the woods?

Wanda thinks. She watches you with a deranged, curious look as you weave yourself through the webs and bushes, seemingly extra careful about tree roots.

You look up from the ground, scanning the area around you and pause when you see the warm glow of her cabin.

My god, she’s gorgeous.

She takes a swift step back so she’s not in the frame of the window anymore, her brows furrowing. She stares at the wall, she hasn’t seen an actual person in so long.

What is a girl like you doing traipsing in the woods?

She peeks again and now you’re making your way over, big wary eyes cautiously examining your surroundings. A shiver rocks through you as you cough into your elbow, then using that arm to place three firm knocks on the door.

You sigh while you wait for someone to answer the door. You switch from tippy toes to the heel of your feet in a nervous manner. The cabin looks great, almost pristine, there’s no way it’s abandoned.

You feel stupid for going into a cabin in the woods. It’s like some dumb movie; you’re just hoping you don’t end up dead. You expect to see an old, wrinkled man the size of a third grader, but your eyes widen when a tall red headed woman swings the door open. You stutter, stunned that a woman like her would live in a place so isolated.

Holy shit, she’s fine.

“Hi, um.. I know it’s a lot to ask but can I stay here for a little bit? I… got lost.” You fiddle with your fingers. She chuckles as she crosses her arms, biting her lip and letting her eyes run up and down your fidgety figure.

“No it’s not asking anything at all. It’s not like I get visitors very often.” She moves to the side and welcomes you in. You look up at her and mumble a small thank you, slowly stepping inside her warm homestead.

The smell of firewood burning and sweet lavender conquer your senses. The comforting atmosphere relaxes you despite how unfamiliar it is. You kick off your boots and grab them so you can neatly place them next to the door. She shuts the door and clicks it locked, quietly making her way over to what looks like her kitchen.

You drink in the sight around you. A tall, cobblestone fireplace lined up against the wall with wood already burning inside of it. A soft lounge suite with a fluffy mat sitting right underneath it. There’s a short hallway and two doors, one you assume leading into her bedroom and the other probably being her bathroom.

One thing you notice in particular is a painting, one with two women sitting on a red velvet couch. One is dressed in white, the other is dressed in black and they both have lace blindfolds wrapped around their heads.

Their Victorian dresses were detailed and long, their lips so close but afraid to touch and give in.

You look away and clench your fists. Your face is now hot, when you entered a remote cabin in the woods, a gay victorian painting was the last thing you expected.

“Take a seat, make yourself comfortable.” The woman’s hoarse voice echoes through the room. Your ears perk up when they catch a touch of an accent.

Is she some type of Russian? That’s hot.

Your anxious form shifts over to her couch to sit down. You sigh in relief, your aching bones melting into the man made cloud that was this woman’s sofa.

“So what’s your name, milaya?” The woman hands you a cup. Your cold fingers feel fuzzy against the hot mug, shuffling back further into her couch so you can sit up comfortably.

“Y/N. You?”

“Wanda.”

A small smile sits on her face that is on some level, disturbing. It’s such a beautiful smile but you can feel something is not right with her. Your intuition has never made itself more distinct, it was less noticeable when you were walking alone outside.

The room feels like it’s getting smaller, the claustrophobia whips the air right out of your lungs. Your eyes flicker between hers. The room starts to spin. Your ears start to ring. Before you could pass out cold, she cups your chin, the gentle gesture pulling you out of your panicked state.

“That’s a nasty cut isn’t it? Would you like me to take care of that?” She says, her tone coaxing. Your curious eyes linger on her,

Why is this stranger being so generous?

If someone entered your home and needed to stay the night, you’d tell them to get lost. She caresses your face softly while she stares at the wound.

“No it’s oka-“ She suddenly pushes a finger to the fresh cut, forcing you to wince and pull away from her. She looks at you in a way you can’t describe, your reaction seemingly piqueing her interest. Her pupils dilate but not enough for you to notice. You look at her with fearful eyes and think to yourself,

Who would do that?

“Actually, that would be nice. Thank you..”

~

Your eyes switch between the steaming drink in your hand and the obviously unhinged redhead sitting next to you. Her aura is intimidating, but you convince yourself it’s paranoia.

I’m in a remote cabin deep in the woods.

Who wouldn’t be unsettled? She’s nice and she helped you…stop being dumb Y/N!

“Thank you again for cleaning my cut, Wanda.” You try to strike up a conversation, but all you’re met with is painful silence. She watches your lips touch the ring of the porcelain teacup, then moving her eyes up to meet your own.

“You’re very observant aren’t you?” You refer to her endless stare, disguising your discomfort with a small chuckle. Her smile widens.

"Fascinuješ ma, miláčik.” “You fascinate me, darling.”

Your brows squeeze together. You wish you could understand what she said, but it felt rude asking her to repeat that in English. You result in shyly looking away and focus on your dangling feet.

Her hand occasionally runs down your back or strokes your arm. Her icy featherlight touches cause goosebumps to ride over your skin. She notices your eyes following her fingers, a mischief smirk hiking up her cheeks.

“You’re so lucky I’m here to help you, dear. What was a girl like you doing in the woods all alone?” Her hand lands on your knee, slowly climbing up closer to your heat and lightly massaging the flesh there. You squirm when she inches closer to your mound, but you’re in her home. She could do anything to you if you said something that upset her.

What if she’s just being nice? I don’t want to offend her…

“I- uh- I was hunting?” You try to paint yourself as tough but fail spectacularly; you can tell by the way she squints her eyes when she hears your answer.

“If that were true, you’d have hunting gear on you, sweetie.” She moves your hair to the other side of your neck to expose the milky skin there. She gawks at your neck like a predator creeping on her prey, ready to pounce on you at any given moment.

The thought of kissing and licking at your silky skin and the vivid image of you biting your plush pink lips made her tremble with desire.

You shrink, staring at the drink in your hands and feeling a strike of vulnerability as you quietly say the words, “I was chasing a bunny..”

“Aww aren’t you precious?” She praises. She toys with the soft threads of your hair, your cheeks glowing a rosy pink from her comment. Her hand squeezes your thigh more roughly, the unexpected act making you jump.

“Such a pretty thing.” She whispers to herself. You don’t catch her words, so you hum and tilt your head, showing your confusion in hopes she would repeat herself.

“Oh… nothing.” She quickly replaces her shock with a crooked grin. Your lips stretch into a small and nervous smile, slowly putting the cup to your mouth again.

A few more moments of silence are present. The crackling of burning wood and the crickets chirping in the distance gave you a chance to finally breathe, although you still struggle to ignore her invasive presence.

“Put the drink down.” You look at her in surprise. You stutter, taken aback by her orders but don’t dare ask any questions. You lick your lips and shuffle, leaning forward to sit the drink on her coffee table. You then move back against the couch and stare into the orange flames in front of you.

“Do you like when people are rough with you, angel?”

You freeze hearing her question. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear ever so gently, grinning when she sees the sheer terror written on your face. There was something eerie about the way she had asked you, a corrupted little twinkle beaming from her eyes.

“Well, no.. N-Not really why?” Your voice is shaking. You know for sure now that this woman is not in her right mind. She could be capable of doing anything and you wouldn’t expect it. She flashes you a charming smile as she continues to twirl and play with your hair, leaning closer to you before whispering,

“Can I tell you a secret?” Your breath hitches softly and your body tenses at the close proximity. You refuse to look at her. You cement your eyes to the flickering fire in front of you. Her hand smoothly travels from your thigh to the zip of your corduroy jacket, slowly pulling down at the metal teeth to reveal your white v-neck shirt and ruby necklace. The sound of your zipper in the unsettling silence makes your skin crawl. You could almost hear the ominous, suspenseful background music. You don’t know what would happen if you deny her, so you hesitantly nod your head.

“I like hurting people… Especially pretty toys like you. I haven’t done it in a long time though.” Her eyes hungrily take in your chilled expression. You gulp when she pulls the jacket off of your shoulders and throws to the side.

“I love to see girls cry, tears running down their sweet little faces…” Her hands rub your upper arms soothingly as she rubbed her nose into the nape of your neck, inhaling your scent. You found yourself unable to move or respond, giving in to her game and listening to her sick train of thought.

“Can I make you cry, please, sweet girl?” She mumbles into your neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin there. Your breathing becomes heavier, needing her so very badly you start to tune out the blaring alarms in your head.

“Wanda listen-” She moves on top of you. She situates herself between your legs giving you no chance to close them, running her hands up and down your thighs. It all happened so fast.

“Pretty please? You’d look so good..” She becomes breathless at the thought, lunging forward and forcefully pushing her lips onto yours. Her lips feel pillowy and soft against yours, she smells of sweet vanilla and a smoky but subtle cinnamon; the mix makes your brain go dizzy with want. She tangles her hands with yours so she can pin your frantic ones onto the couch. Butterflies dance in your stomach, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Her kiss is rough but somehow so soft at the same time, the conflicted feeling makes your heart flutter.

She puts all her body weight onto you, grinding her crotch into yours as she murmurs praises into your mouth. “You’re so fucking cute,” “It’s gonna feel so so good, just let me touch you..”

She slides her tongue across your lip, silently telling you to open your mouth. She angrily tightens her grip on your hands when you groan and clench your jaw shut, forbidding her access.

“Open your mouth, or I’ll find another way to make it stay open.” You whine quietly, slowly opening your mouth and letting her slide in. You whimper and squirm when her hands land on your hips, guiding you to grind against her knee.

“There you go, so so pretty grinding on me like that..” You grab handfuls of her sweater, the fabric of your cotton panties rubbing against you creating the perfect friction. You softly moan her name, back arching while hiding your face in her neck, ashamed how riled up you are from being taken advantage of. One of her hands move from your hip to your thigh, exploring the rest of your body before snaking up your stomach to grope at your breasts.

“Fuck,” She whimpers before biting down on your lip. She twists and teases your nipples between her fingers, feasting on the sight of your pathetic writhing.

“Wanda!” Your movements against her thigh become more frantic, so blissed out you couldn’t care about how needy and dumb you must look.

Your hands advance to her biceps, clutching onto her as you try reach the high you so deeply crave. Your heart thuds in your chest, sweat glistening on your forehead and gasping for air. Your tears soak her shirt, hating yourself for giving in to her but also not willing to stop.

“Cum, make a mess for me bunny..” Her hand grabs your chin and holds it still. You foolishly kept trying to turn your head, but your actions cease when her hand moves from your chin to wrap around your throat.

“Look at me when you cum.” She forces her face impossibly closer to yours, jutting out her jaw and admiring the sparkling tears falling from your eyes. Her breathing becomes ragged listening to your whines and sobs, the throb between her legs intensifying.

“I don’t want to..”

“I don’t care if you want to or not. I won’t let you move until you do.”

Your mouth falls open and your eyes roll to the back of your head, her cruel words somehow pushing you over the edge. Everything becomes white, your thighs shake and your body tenses. Waves of pleasure crash down on you, the euphoric feeling pulsing through you from head to toe.

She eagerly watches you fall apart from your first climax, knowing that she’s not even halfway done with you. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, eyes struggling to stay open and arms spread over the couch.

She carefully pushes her knee further into your pussy, your pleas and protests only making her more excited for what she plans next.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you, angel.”

⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘

[kaisturni]

pillow princess | c.sturniolo

→ chris x fem!reader

→ plot; traveling with the triplets, y/n usually shares the room with nick. in a sudden change of plans, she ends up sharing the room with chris. with the unexpected presence of one bed for the two to share, tension arises through the night when only inches separate them.

→ warnings; SHMUTTT, dom!chris, swearing, fingering, grinding, unprotected sex, cum eating, hair pulling, creampie, use of nicknames

→ a/n; this one has so much build up i didn’t even realize so sorry 😛 thank you to everyone who voted, hope you guys love it!

NOT PROOFREAD (sorry)

——————————————————————————

“that flight was terrible,” i groaned, the boys all nodding in agreement, everyone stretching their limbs every which way.

“honestly i just can’t wait to get to the hotel, anyway, i call sharing a room with matt,” nick says, as the four of us wait for your check bags to arrive.

“what! why?” i shoot a confused look at him, since nick and i are always the pair to share a room together, hell we have so many sleepovers, even sharing a bed isn’t a problem.

“because you fuckin snore, y/n,” nick states bluntly, i feel my face falling into offense.

“no i don’t!” “yes you do,” the three say in unison. i always hated when they did that. it’s creepy. but i’m confused at this sudden accusation, because nick has NEVER brought up anything about me snoring before.

i say my thoughts out loud “what are you talking about? even if i did, you sleep like a rock!” i retort.

“tonight is just NOT that night, besides we have to be up all day tomorrow to vlog AND film with sam and colby. besides, chris doesn’t mind your snoring anyway,” nick argues, chris shoots a cheesy smile and a thumbs up at me, i roll my eyes at the both of them realizing this is a losing battle.

“okay, whatever. just don’t keep me up all night,” i point a finger sharply at chris, since he’s always up until the break of dawn and even then has more energy than ive seen anyone have in the morning.

“noted.”

at least we’re not sharing a bed- i think to myself. not that it would necessarily be a problem, but for some reason he always made me so nervous. i dont want to admit it’s a crush, and i dont think sharing a bed with him would help with the aching nerves i get being around him. the thought of the circumstance makes me shudder. best just not to think about it.

✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

we all go to nick and matt’s room first, just to film some of the vlog. we all explore the room, opening every drawer and examining the snacks on the tv stand, and i admire how plush and soft the bedding is. at least i’ll sleep good on this tonight. chris seems to have the same idea as me, gripping on to the top part of one of the beds where it meets the headboard. i can’t help the thought of him doing the same thing but me beneath his body; the idea of it makes me squirm. i shake away the image as my ears tune back in to the conversations going on.

“that’s a really cool… deck!” chris exclaims,

“that’s a REALLY COOL DECK,” nick mocks him, eliciting giggles from both me and matt, and i almost forget for a second that this isn’t the room i’m staying in, and i try to keep the conversation going as long as possible.

after about 15 minutes of filming, matt hands the camera to nick, giving the outro for the evening.

“goodnight everyone, we’ll see you guys tomorrow when we go explore austin,” nick says to the camera, then shutting it off.

after our own collective goodnights, chris and i making our way down to our own space. i’m so exhausted i can’t even hear myself think. my eyes linger down the dim hallway to matt and nick’s room. i’m honestly still a bit bitter about the whole room situation, i make a mental note to scare the shit out nick at some point during filming with sam and colby to get back at him.

i unconsciously smile at the idea of it, not noticing chris looking back at me,

“what are you smiling about?” he says with a little giggle, i reconnect my brain to my actions, eyes widening at what he could be thinking about me stupidly smiling as he keys us in to the room,

“nothing, just thought of something funny earlier. it was a pretty cool deck,,,” i say in a sing- song voice mocking him, he rolls his eyes “yeah whatever, it wasn’t that funny,” he states, i do a mental cheer to myself that he didn’t catch on to me trying to unconditionally hide where my mind was going to after he said those words; to be fair i WASN’T smiling at the thought of us sharing a room, but considering how i had been acting about the whole thing, i’m not exactly sure how convincing my explanation was.

the door opens and he flicks on the lights, after my eyes adjust, both of us are met with a singular king bed, identical headboard facing the city of austin, i can see my eyes widen in the reflection of the window in front of us.

i feel my cheeks turn hot, and i can see chris out of the corner of my eye glancing at me, also keeping himself silent amidst our little… situation.

he breaks the awkward silence in the room by clearing his throat,

“gummy bears,” he starts, placing his bag on the plush white chair in the corner of the room, while i throw mind mindlessly on the floor trying my best not to think about the current situation

“i’ll be eating these tonight,”

“woah for free?” i say grabbing the bag from him, also making an effort to cut the awkwardness somehow still lingering in the air.

“no definitely for purchase,” he says walking around the room, “oh,” I throw the bag down, now uninterested in the snacks in front of me.

“what side do you like?” he asks, making himself comfortable right in the middle, arms stretched out on both sides, giving me a crooked smile.

cute.

“i prefer the left. but whatever side is fine,” i proclaim, doing my best to seem indifferent and not give him the impression that i’m going to be a pain to sleep with.

not like that, of course.

“good answer, i sleep on the right,” his smile doesn’t break as hops off the bed and rifles through his duffel bag,

“i’m gonna take a quick shower, won’t be long. put something on for us to watch,” i nod, and he disappears into the bathroom.

time passes as i’m left alone flicking through channels, eventually settling on a random movie i’m sure neither of us have seen before, this will do. i decide to find some pajamas of my own.

of course, my fucking luck and to my horror, i come up empty on a sleep bra AND shorts. i cant help but physically face palm myself at my lack of planning, but forgive me, i was anticipating on only nick seeing me in a lack of clothing.

i peel off the safety of the clothing i have on, and slip in to a separate thong and a t-shirt that is just barely covering my ass.

i’m so fucking stupid.

suddenly, the water shuts off and i race with myself to get back into my side of the bed to avoid chris seeing me and my shift in wardrobe.

he emerges from the bathroom, and i steal a glance at him, standing there with wet curls and his upper half still slick, highlighting all the muscles visible on his body.

the sight of him makes me heat up just to look at, and i cross my legs tightly to hopefully get rid of the aching between them, and flip my body around to face away, unaware to the fact that my ass is on display to him.

“no, no pants, huh?” i hear him let out a shaky breath from the other side of me, feeling my cheeks grow hot again, i make my best attempt to pull my shirt down and face him, beginning my ranted explanation.

“no yeah sorry i-i just was expecting to sleep with nick, this is what i usually wear i’m sor-“

he cuts off my rambling with a laugh,

“you’re fine, it just took me by surprise, that’s all. but you should probably move over, i think we should both go to sleep in a little,” he suggests, i can tell he’s being careful to not fully raise the covers, in order to avoid the exposure on my end.

i almost feel relief that he doesn’t care, but part of me wants him to care. to see him get hot and bothered by seeing me like that. but thankfully, yet unthankfully, this is a purely platonic sleeping arrangement.

“yeah, yeah you’re right,” i let out half heartedly, letting my eyes travel back to the scene on the tv, but i can’t help but peer out of the corner of my eye and notice how good he looks.

fuck.

his jaw tight in seeming concentration of the nonsense in front of us, hair messy from his shower, his chest slowly rising up down and rhythm and i almost let my eyes wander down his body to the waistband of his pants or even lower, but i don’t dare to allow myself the chance.

✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

my eyes shoot awake, and i prop my arms up to look at the clock a few feet away,

3:24am.

the tv is shut off, and chris is calmly sleeping beside me. i guess i had unknowingly fallen asleep at some point during the movie. i sigh and rub my face, beginning to make my attempt to fall back asleep again. suddenly, there’s a shift in the bed and i feel an arm snake across my hip and pull me closer.

i gasp and freeze at the contact, not daring to make a move. i feel chris’ hands squeeze at my hips, and a barely audible groan escapes his lips. my breath starts to pick up when i feel him harden against my ass.

i don’t know if i can take this. he isn’t even awake right now. he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

i quickly turn to face him,

“chris!” i whisper yell and shake his shoulder, with his hand still holding on to my nearly bare hip.

as he comes to consciousness, he deeply inhales and lets his eyes adjust to the darkness. realization hits him when he quickly removes his hand from me and darts up into a seated position. i can almost see him blushing despite the dark haze around us, the same feeling creeping upon myself for the nth time tonight as we sit in silence, which is quickly broken by his voice.

“shit, y/n, i-i’m sorry,” he begins, “i was just dreaming and, and i didn’t realize what i was doing I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he explains. my brows furrow slightly as i realize the context of his words.

“what was the dream?” i ask, my own curiosity getting the best of me, but the confidence in knowing he was most likely having some sort of sex dream about me makes the lustful side of myself take over.

his head tips back, i can tell he’s contemplating his next words.

“you. y/n. us. right now. i always thought you were pretty, but you looked so fucking hot earlier, like you’re literally half naked in the same bed as me. truthfully I’ve had feelings for you, and seeing you like that… it just made me want to fuck you,”

the last part of his statement is just barely above hearing level, and i’m honestly shocked at his confession. i didn’t think this would ever happen, that chris would ever see me in that way, but i got over that quickly.

i don’t know what came over me, but my actions and words only grew in seduction, and i was now determined to break him.

“sorry, i didn’t hear you, you wanted to what?” i crawl over and sit myself on his lap, placing my hands on his bare chest, and i feel his breathing and heart speed up.

“i want to fuck you, y/n,” he says in a single breath, and i take it as a sign to crash my lips into his.

the kiss is deep and sensual, his hands snaking down to my ass and squeezing, causing me to groan, and in response i grind myself onto him, feeling his dick grow hard beneath me.

the lack of material between us causes the wetness between my legs begins to rise quickly, and chris takes no time to comment on the state of my arousal.

“fuck y/n, i can already feel how wet you are,” he says between sloppy kisses, and one of his hands slaps my ass hard, the other gripping for dear life.

i gasp at his action, and his tongue fully enters my mouth, and i don’t bother trying to fight for dominance. all this new contact with him is already making me feel buzzed.

he flips us around so my back hits the bed, and i look up at him as he grips the headboard, our lips reconnecting in a matter of no time.

his hand gently tugs at my shirt, signaling he wants it off, and i inwardly smirk to myself knowing there’s nothing between my shirt and my bare body.

i swiftly remove it off my body, and even in the dim light he can see my chest, i purposefully squeeze them together causing him to bite his lip and move down to claim a nipple in his mouth.

i moan at the contact, he sucks hard at the sensitive bud, other hand snaking down to my panties, which i’m sure are now thoroughly soaked.

as if he read my mind, his fingers easily glide between my folds, and i whimper at the feeling.

“you’re so fucking wet—all for me, yeah?” he says lowly, those words coming out of his raise even more arousal in me, and the only thing i can do is nod and moan in response as he rubs my clit with his wet fingers.

he moves my black thong to the side, and i bite my lip in anticipation for his fingers to enter me, and he slowly inserts two, causing both of us to moan in harmony.

his lips rejoin mine, but the fast pumping of his long fingers inside me make it difficult to kiss him back.

i feel the knot building up in my stomach and i know an orgasm is approaching fast.

“c-chris, i’m gonna cum,” i breath out, shocked that i’m withering under my one of my best friend’s touch.

he hums at first, his pace slowly picking up, “cum for me pretty girl,” he purrs in my ear, i pant feeling the build up in my sensitive nerves release, him continuing to pump as i ride my high through his fingers, now covered in my own cum.

he brings his soaked fingers to his mouth, licking my juices off of his fingers,

“you taste so fucking good y/n,” he bring his hand down back to my folds, and i wince at the contact.

“suck,” he demands, bringing his fingers to my mouth, and i look him dead in the eye as my tongue swirls around his digits.

the eye contact pierced through me, and i let go of the grasp i have on his fingers with a pop, his lashes fluttering at the sound. chris’ lips meet mine again, and i hardly notice him removing his plaid pants, palming himself through his underwear and groaning into my mouth.

“is this okay? do you want to do this?” he asks, rubbing sweet circles on my inner thigh. how could i say no to him? we’re way beyond that.

i nod in affirmation, “more than okay, i want you, chris,”

chris smiles and swiftly pulls me to the edge of the bed, peeling away his last layer of clothing. his erection springs up, and i take a deep breath at just the sight of his size, tip leaking precum.

i instinctively spread my legs further for him, and he pumps himself a few times before aligning with my core, wetting himself between my folds.

he slowly pushes himself into me, and the sting of his size makes me hiss,

“i’ll go slow okay?”

i nod and close my eyes, and his forehead press against mine, pushing his dick further. i feel our hips meet and he pulls out almost all the way, before slamming into me.

fuck going slow.

i can’t control the loud moan that crawls from my lips, one from chris, “fuck,” follows soon after. his pace picks up; wet noises, skin slapping, and loud moans are the only sounds that fill the room.

he pulls himself out, and i prop myself on my elbows and give him a confused look,

“turn around,” chris grows, and i do without retaliation, sticking my ass far up in the air with my chest pressed against the mattress.

he wastes no time inserting himself back into me, going to his rhythm once again.

chris grips my hips so hard im sure they’ll be a purple hue in the morning, but that’s at the least of my concerns right now.

“god, you feel so good. you like bein a pillow princess, don’t you?” he huffs, continuously bringing our hips to meet at a pace faster than i think i can breathe.

the only way i can respond is through a muffled groan into the bunched up sheets, holding on as hard as i can.

he grabs my hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulls my head up,

“answer me. you like it, no- you love it, don’t you?”

“yes, i fucking love it chris!” i say as i gasp for oxygen, and he shoves my face back into the pillow, spewing praises and profanities into the air.

“i-i’m close baby, where should i cum? “chris says, his strokes becoming sloppier by the second, and i feel him twitch inside me, causing myself to clench around him.

“me too, shit, i-inside me, cum inside me,” i breath, way beyond fucked out to realize the consequences of those words.

with one last stroke, he releases inside me, and i feel myself become warm inside, both from him and my own cum painting his dick.

we simultaneously pant as he pulls out, and i flip myself over, feeling completely drunk off fucking him.

his body crashes down next to me, delivering sweet kisses to my face and lips, unlike his previous animalistic behavior just a few seconds ago.

“are you okay? how was that? did i hurt you?” he questions through pants, i giggle at the change in demeanor.

“i’m okay, it was perfect, and no you didn’t. i loved it, chris.” i say, running my hands gently through is slightly wet hair, some strands sticking to his forehead from the sex-sweat build up.

“i want to keep doing this,” chris starts

“me too-“

“but i want to be more,” the words leave his lips quickly, and his eyes focus between mine, analyzing my face, searching for a response.

“me too,” i state again, “but what are we going to tell nick? matt?” the idea of telling them didn’t cross my mind, but the anxiety of having to face them about that makes my heart race.

“we can keep it to ourselves— for right now,” the octave of his voice raising slightly at the end, posing his proposition almost as a question.

i smile and place a gentle kiss on his lips, “we can do that, but not for too long, okay,” i say after pulling away.

chris smiles warmly at me, “okay, but we should really go back to sleep. it’s 5:30,”

i almost get whiplash turning my head to look at the clock so fast, and i widen my eyes at how much time has passed.

“good idea,” i reply, shakily crawling back under the covers.

“you’re sleeping naked?” he questions.

“yes, is that a problem? you coming back here or not?” i raise my eyebrows at him,

chris shakes his head; “not at all, come lay on me,” he makes his way to his side and opens his arms for me, and i inch my way over into his warm grasp.

chris places a soft kiss on my forehead, and i can feel myself slowly drifting into sleep. i don’t think im going to scare the shit out of nick, my mind thinking of my previous vendetta against him; little does he know he did me a huge favor.