#(I think you meant the first will give a clue to the second?)

[freedomfireflies]

The Playboy*

Summary: The one where you're a Playboy Bunny and Harry is Hugh's assistant. The one person you aren't allowed to love.

Word Count: 8.9k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, exhibitionsim, multiple orgasms, brief choking, overstimulation

Harry's cum is dripping down your thigh.

You can see it, glistening beneath the sunlight, making it almost impossible to look away. You’re completely and utterly mesmerized by the sight of it, but Harry pretends as though he has no clue.

After all, he has to pretend. You know he’s done this on purpose. Know that he wanted to mark you right before your photoshoot with Hugh and the other Bunnies. He's sending a message, making a statement.

And really, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Harry fucked you right and you both know it. And he can pretend all he wants that it means nothing, but you’re the best lover he’s ever had. He told you himself. And perhaps that’s why he’s done this. Why he insisted that you weren’t allowed to wipe it off or hide it. Because he wants them to see. To know who you really belong to.

No matter how hard you squeeze your thighs together or attempt to brush the sticky stain away, it remains. And Harry’s proud smirk is rather obvious even from over on the grass where he observes. 

You try not to look at him. To acknowledge that sadistic glee as you keep your gaze on the camera. Because if you look at him…it’s over. You won’t be able to hide your infatuation and the last thing either of you want is for Hugh to find out.

Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to notice. Then again, he has too many people around him at once to pay attention to you and your wet thighs. But you know he’d be furious if he knew what his precious Bunny was doing, one of the many reasons you and Harry are forced to keep your meetings a secret.

But you know Harry likes being your secret. Perhaps just as much as you like being his. Besides, it’s only sex. No strings attached. He’s Hugh’s assistant and you’re one of the beloved Bunnies. It’s against every rule in the book for the two of you to be together, much less sleep together.

Yet here you are.

You sometimes wonder if Harry would even give you the time of day outside of your secret rendezvous. Or if he’d avoid you altogether. You want to believe it goes deeper than just sex, but truth be told, you’re too afraid to ask.

"Your lemonade, Sir."

You watch as Harry nods his thanks and takes the cold glass from the waiter. He’s far too smug for your liking, and you’d chastise him if it were any other moment.

Still, you watch him take a rather long sip as his eyes follow you from behind those dark sunglasses.

He knows you like to be watched. That you thrive off his attention. So, he gives it to you anytime he can. Even when you’re sitting on the lap of the man that employs him.

But you like to watch him, too. And the way he looks right now, with those dark curls pushed back, now slightly disheveled from when you had your hands running through them, is rather delicious.

He leans back in his seat, strong thighs spreading as he takes another sip. It’s almost criminal, and you can practically hear the sighs of the other girls as they notice, too.

He pops the first couple buttons of his shirt free, allowing for a glimpse of his tan, sweaty skin, and you feel your stomach clench. He’s taunting you now. Reminding you who’s really in charge, and you’re nearly tempted to march right over and prove him wrong.

But you know he’s thinking the same thing you are. Remembering just a few moments ago when he had you bent over a chair as he fucked you from behind.

"Tell me how good I feel."

"Fuck you."

"Tell me how deep—"

"Not deep enough. Fuck me like you mean it, Playboy."

The second he saw you in your signature bowtie, he snatched your hand and dragged you away. And you let him, because how could you not? Even if it meant you were late for the shoot and that you’d earn a very firm frown from Hugh. It was worth it, and the evidence has been painted all over your leg.

Suddenly struck with inspiration, you give a big beam to the camera before you subtly drop your hand to your thigh and swipe your finger through the mess.

You notice Harry’s eyes widen as he straightens up, wildly intrigued. But you don’t give him the satisfaction of looking, instead keeping your eyes on the lens as suck your middle finger into your mouth.

Harry knows what coats that finger and you let your lashes flutter as though to tell him how much you enjoy the taste.

Hugh laughs, thinking it's just a clever pose for the photos, but Harry knows this show is just for him and him alone.

He slides his sunglasses a bit further down his nose, eyes sparkling like a kid in a candy store.

Yet your eyes never leave the camera, your smile wide, and your glee unmeasurable. You enjoy teasing him when you know he can’t do anything about it. 

And it works, if the way he begins to shift in his seat is any indication. You can practically see his erection from here, and you have to swallow a laugh as he clenches his jaw.

Finally, you decide to put him out of his misery, and steal one glance for yourself.

The moment your eyes meet, your chest nearly caves in. The tension is thick, and it feels as though the whole world has gone quiet. It’s just you and Harry, and when he bites his lip and leans back in his seat, you about lose it.

Thankfully, almost as though heaven heard your silent plea, Hugh suddenly claps his hands together and declares the shoot through. He thanks you all for your patience and time before everyone begins to part and the camera crew packs up.

You’re off his lap in seconds, moving for the refreshments so you can grab a glass of lemonade for yourself. And hopefully encourage Harry’s attention to follow you.

You feel him behind you before you even have a chance to turn around. You recognize his cologne and the soft hum in his throat and you bite the inside of your lip to keep from grinning.

“Bunny,” he murmurs, and even though it’s only been a few minutes, you’ve missed the sound of his voice. Low and raspy with just a hint of an accent.

“Harold,” you return, tossing a quick look over your shoulder before moving across the yard.

However, he’s hot on your tail, giving you absolutely no room or personal space. “That was quite a show,” he says, jogging around you to catch your eye.

You only bat your lashes as you take a sip of your drink, watching as his attention zeroes in on the way your lips wrap around the straw. 

He smirks.

“Enjoyed yourself, did you?” you retort innocently, attempting to brush past him again when he suddenly grabs onto your upper arm and drags you back to him.

He dips down, mouth ghosting the side of your ear as he murmurs, “I believe you owe me a taste.”

Your eyebrow quirks. “Is that so?”

“It is.” His grip tightens. “And you know it.”

You take a quick glance around the backyard just to make sure Hugh isn’t watching before you pull yourself free and turn to Harry. “Who said you deserve to taste me?”

 “I believe you did. When you were coming around my cock and begging me to do it again.”

You scoff, feigning annoyance as you attempt to walk away. However, Harry is much quicker, and he snatches hold of your wrist in order to drag you across the grass and toward the pool shed in the corner of the yard.

Thankfully nobody seems to notice, and you feel your cunt throb as he gently slams you against the wall, away from any prying eyes. And he cages you there, arms on either side of your head as you bite your lip and peer up at him. 

“You’ve been quite the brat, haven’t you, little one?” he nearly purrs, wedging his knee between your clenched thighs. “Trying to tease me…embarrass me. Get me in trouble.”

You blink. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“No?” He squeezes your chin. “Show me your tongue.”

Slowly, you concede. Parting your lips and extending your tongue as he tilts your head back and stares down your throat. 

“Good girl. Swallowed every drop, didn’t you?”

You nod.

“S’it feel good in your tummy, baby? Hm? Did it taste as good as you imagined?”

Another nod. Quicker and more excited.

He smiles. “Then I think it’s only fair you return the favor, hm?”

You aren’t afforded the chance to answer before he’s dropping to his knees and prying your legs apart.

“Harry—”

“Shh. I’m busy,” he murmurs, flicking the button on your costume undone until he can reach your stockings and tear them down. “S’been too long.”

“It’s been twenty minutes.”

“Exactly.”

He runs his hands along your body, enjoying the way you shiver, that wicked grin is enough to ruin you. He places your foot on his shoulder while you steady yourself against the shed, your fingers already returning to his hair.

And he watches you. So desperate and eager to please. You know he’d bury himself in your cunt with no hesitation if he could, but for now…this is all you get.

It’s one of the things you adore most about him. His need to please you, even despite his ego. In fact, from the moment you met him, he’s put your pleasure first. Demanding that you sit on his face nearly every hour of the day just so he can get a small taste. Savor you on his tongue, go home with you still smeared across his chin.

Some people do drugs. Harry does pussy.

His hands slowly smooth up your leg, taking his time to appreciate your skin while admiring the way it glistens underneath the summer sun. He begins to kiss his way along your ankle and up toward your knee. 

And you work to bite back a heavy sigh. You don’t tend to trip up too often, but when it comes to Harry, you find that you can never stay quiet. And you don’t understand why. Maybe it’s because he knows how to draw out every possible noise and sensation. Somehow, even his kisses leave you whining. 

Either way, you know you can’t make a noise today. Because no matter how loud the group out by the pool are, it’s not nearly loud enough to drown out your pleasured whines.

And he knows it, too.

He pauses his kisses once he reaches your inner thigh and glances up through those thick lashes of his. "You think you can stay quiet, little one?" he asks, lips brushing against your skin with every word.

You force a smile. “Do it right and we’ll see.”

It’s a challenge he’s more than eager to accept. He’s been waiting far too long to get a taste of what he left behind and wastes no more time in dragging his flattened tongue along your leg to collect the salty remnants from before.

The feeling itself isn't much but watching him...you can feel your knees growing weak. Harry knows what you like to see. Knows you adore his pink lips and the rings on his fingers. Knows you like to run your hands through his gelled hair and leave your lipstick on his shirt. 

He hums, rather satisfied with himself. But before he can truly have you, you both catch the sound of commotion happening near the mansion.

You have a rather hard time tearing yourself away, but you know that if you don’t check, Hugh will coming looking for you.

So, regretfully, you drop your leg from Harry’s shoulder and peer around the shed.

Hugh is standing on one of the staircases, pipe in his mouth as he claps his hands to get everyone's attention. "All right, my dears, gather 'round. You've all been doing such good work this week, and I felt it was only right to honor you. So, for the first Saturday of the summer, I've decided we must celebrate.”

The other girls cheer as you toss Harry a curious look. 

He only shrugs.

"You know the rules," Hefner continues. "But I want you to have fun and just relax tonight. The real work starts next week.”

With that, he gives his adoring audience a wink before heading back inside, leaving you to sigh to yourself.

Hugh is a stickler for rules and regulations. Curfews, no outside relationships, and absolutely no visitors. He wants to keep his girls to himself, and you know that applies to you more than anyone else.

Harry is watching you closely as you finally turn back around. “He wants me there tonight,” he tells you.

You nod. You expected nothing less. “I imagine so.”

“We won’t have as much time.”

“I know.” You readjust your outfit and attempt to wipe the lustful look from your face. “I should go.”

You get ready to slip back out into the open before Harry grabs your arm for a third time.

"I'll find you," he murmurs, more so a promise than a threat. "And I will get my taste."

You can’t help but smirk as you pat his cheek lightly.  “Mm. Good luck, Playboy."

There are very few times in life when you find yourself completely and utterly breathless. Transfixed beyond doubt, mesmerized by one singular moment in time when you can't move or speak.

For you, that happened when you saw Harry enter the room for the very first time.

And then it happened again…when he slid inside you later that same night.

Two moments, one man.

One incredibly ethereal, divine, godlike man. 

You hadn't expected Hugh's party to be all that exciting, but it was one of Harry’s first parties as Hugh’s assistant. Turns out…that meant something.

You had specific instructions to stay close to Hugh throughout the evening, as his favorite Bunny, and Harry had instructions to stay close as the assistant. But unlike you, Harry was instructed to follow from behind. Not to interact with any of the guests. And definitely not to be seen or heard.

But from the moment he entered the room, you knew it would be nearly impossible for anyone to keep their eyes off him.

He walked in as though surrounded by light, drawing everyone’s attention to those dark curls and that charming smile.

You couldn’t look away, so spellbound by his presence that you didn’t even realize Hugh was right beside him.

Instantly, you knew that would complicate things.

Still, you liked the challenge. And as it turned out, Harry did, too. Because while you were busy seeing him, he was busy seeing you.

Your eyes met through the crowd, even despite the many bodies and loud music. You felt yourself being drawn closer as you pushed your way toward the center of the room in a desperate attempt just to be close.

Harry did the same.

You wondered if Hugh knew what a threat Harry posed to his brand. After all, Hugh loved being the center of attention and Harry was so effortlessly stealing the attention for himself.

But it didn’t matter in that moment because Harry’s attention was yours, and once you both found your way to the center of the living room…everything changed. 

You did your best to study him. Those gorgeous, textured curls. The unusual shade of green in his eye. That strong jaw that seemed to accentuate his sharp but handsome features.

He was wearing a white t-shirt that hugged each of his muscles in a way that left little to the imagination. He looked clean. Put together. So refined that all you wanted to do was trail your hands down his chiseled chest before you tore is shirt off.

And that’s when it happened.

The Moment.

Ever since that night, the two of you have been inseparable. Fucking any chance you get. In the kitchen, in the car, in the closet. His hand over your mouth, forcing you to stay silent in case Hugh might be somewhere in the mansion—which he always is.

In fact, there’s never a moment when you aren't the focus of each other's attention. Day or night, all you can think about is when you’ll see him next. Creating moments to run into each other. Planning meetings. Making excuses to find time alone.

And as it turns out, tonight is no different.

You know Hugh will be around. And even worse, he’ll be making his favorite Bunny the center of attention.

Which just means you’ll have to try a little harder to get Harry alone. 

Most of the crowd will be desperate to talk to you. They always are, after all. They’ll follow you around, ask you questions, want to be in your presence. 

And Harry will be somewhere hidden, keeping to himself so he’s neither seen nor heard. Although the rest of the Bunnies make that quite difficult.

For some reason, Hugh doesn’t mind if the others pay Harry a bit of attention. He only seems to mind if you do. And even though Harry will never admit it, Hugh’s possession over you makes him quite jealous.

He doesn’t enjoy the idea of having to share you, much less with a whole crowd of people and greedy men. They’ll take up all of your time. Time that should be reserved for him. 

Truth be told, you find it rather cute.

So, you try to make it worth it. You sway your hips to a song just because he’s watching. 

You run your hands down your body, smoothing them over each and every one of his favorite curves. 

You dangle a cherry over your tongue before taking it between your lips, your cheeks hollowing as you suck the sweet fruit into your mouth.

It drives him absolutely mad, and you can already see him fighting the temptation to stride over to you right now.

You’re sitting by the pool, legs dangling over the side as you chat with Paul Newman. He’s leaning his body closer and closer toward yours, inviting himself into your space as you laugh and throw your head back with glee just to give Harry a proper show.

You do your best to flirt with the handsome man—which isn’t all that difficult, really—before you notice Harry march himself over to the drink stand. 

Instantly, he begins chatting up Sophia Loren. One of the most stunning women you think you’ve ever seen and immediately, your eyes narrow.

So that’s how he wants to play it.

He’s not subtle about the way he stares at her, raking his eyes up and down her figure rather shamelessly. And she smiles, eating up his attention until you nearly chip a tooth from how hard you’re gritting your teeth.

It’s rather cute, all things considered. He’s really trying to make you jealous. But why should you be? Paul Newman is every bit as handsome, if not more, and happens to be someone you can actually sit and have a conversation with.

In fact, Hugh was the one who set it up. He introduced the two of you and insisted you get to know each other.

You knew what he really wanted from the interaction, but neither you nor Paul will be entertaining such an idea. After all, he is happily married. And you just enjoy getting to know him.

Paul is still chatting away as you both swing you legs through the warm water, and even though you can’t help feeling rather starstruck by those gorgeous blue eyes…you’re remind of a pair of green ones that are currently still checking out someone else.

So, you gently put your hand on Paul’s chest in a subtle signal for him to wind his story down. You tell him that you’re going to go grab a drink and he nods before helping you stand from the pool.

You make your way for the bar—rather aware of the number of eyes on you as you walk—yet Harry still seems to be rather immersed in his conversation with the starlet. And now you aren’t sure if this really is just for show or if she truly has caught his eye.

Either way, you decide a little eavesdropping can’t hurt. So, you subtly make your way around the pool and toward the back of the drink station, just out of sight. Close enough to hear, but not so close as to be seen.

“Are you enjoying yourself this evening?” Harry is asking, and you catch just a glimpse of those dimples.

Sophia hums, looking around the large backyard that seems to sparkle underneath such a dark sky. "Oh, yes. Hugh always throws the best parties."

"He does. Are you here with someone?"

You suck in a quiet breath while Sophia laughs, shaking out her perfectly styled curls. “No, not at all. I like to…come alone. Window shop.”

“Window shop?” Harry repeats with a smirk.

“Yes. I like to see what’s to be seen. To decide if I’ll be leaving alone as well.”

Harry chuckles, and the sound of it makes your stomach flutter. “I see. Well, I have to admit, that does sound like an excellent plan.”

Sophia studies him. “And…you? Will you be leaving alone?”

Harry runs his tongue over his lip before glancing toward the spot near the pool where you once were. But once he notices you’re missing, his eyebrow raises. “I hope not.”

She smiles. “Come,” she says, taking his hand. “We dance.”

With that, she leads him toward the middle of the yard where a few people are already swaying to the music.

You watch them dance with a rather wounded expression, doing your best to remind yourself what this really is.

You don’t imagine Sophia will be taking him home tonight—he’s handsome, but she’s far out of his league—yet you can’t help that spark of jealousy that finally burns in your chest.

What Harry lacks in brains he makes up for in charisma. And he looks rather breathtaking out there, moving his hips to the melody and grabbing at her waist while she laughs and swings her arms around his neck.

For a moment, you almost wish that you could dance with him like that. So open and uninhibited. But you know that this arrangement only lasts for the summer. Once fall comes, the two of you will part ways, and the fun will be through.

Eventually, the two of them return to the bar for more drinks, and you’re forced to scurry back out of sight just in time to ear the rest of their conversation.

"She is...stunning,” Sophia says as they approach.

Harry’s head tilts. “Who?”

“The woman you keep looking for.”

Harry grins as he lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Hm.” She takes a sip of her drink as she watches him. “One cannot win a game if the other player doesn’t know they are playing.”

"Maybe. But I’m not playing any games.”

She scoffs. “Aren’t you? Talking to me but wanting her?”

Harry seems rather surprised by this, and you feel yourself grin as you finally breeze your way around the corner in full view of them both.

“A scotch, please, darling,” you call to the bartender before glancing to your left. “Oh! Hi, Sophia. Harold.”

Sophia laughs. “Hello, dear. Fantastic party. You look beautiful.”

“As do you,” you return. “So happy you made it, despite your current choice in companion.”

Harry’s eyes roll.

“Oh, he’s not so bad,” she says, reaching up to wipe her thumb across his bottom lip. “Rather…sweet.”

Harry feigns a smug smirk even though you can tell he’s rather surprised by the action. 

Still, you refuse to play along. “I suppose he can be when Hugh isn’t around.”

She chuckles to herself before offering you a quick kiss to the cheek before bidding the two of you goodbye so she can make the rounds. 

 Rather satisfied, you give Harry a proud look of your own before grabbing your drink and turning on your heel.

But, true to form, he’s chasing after you and taking a handful of your hip in order to bring you to a stop.

“Bunny,” he warns beneath a raspy breath. “I thought I made myself clear—”

“I don’t know what you mean, I was only chatting,” you retort, pulling yourself from his hand with a huff. 

“No, you were not. You were being a brat and I’d like you to stop.”

“Stop what? Being delightful?”

“No. Stop toying with me.” He regards you carefully. “I know what you’re doing.”

"I'm talking. After all, that is my job—"

"No, your job is to be a good little Bunny, and do as you're told," he argues, straightening up so he has the advantage of height. "And I’m telling you that I will not play these games with you any longer.”

“What games?”

“The game where you try to rub my nose in that,” he says, gesturing angrily toward Paul.

“It’s not a game. He’s quite delightful. And I don’t believe I’m quite through with him yet—”

“Enough,” he seethes, suddenly yanking you back to him. “You know you don't want to talk to him. Or entertain his sad attempts at flirting. So, give it up, and come with me—"

"Beg me."

He leans back. “Excuse me?”

“Beg me,” you repeat calmly, even though your pussy is just about throbbing from the possessive tone of voice. 

His head cocks. “I said end this—"

"Beg me, and maybe I will.”

He looks at you for another moment more before his eyes flick toward the mansion in search of Hugh. Having this conversation in such an open space is rather reckless, especially with so many witnesses. But you just can’t help it. He never seems to listen.

Harry knows his time is running out, as well as his patience, so he runs a hand through his hair and releases a strained exhale. 

“Fine,” he concedes darkly. “Fine. Please…end this. And come with me.”

You bite back a smile. "Hm... I don't know, Paul and I were just having such a good time—"

"Please," he repeats, almost viciously. "Fucking end this. Now.”

By now, you know exactly what Harry's last straw looks like. What it sounds like. His voice, twisted with need and lust, becomes hoarser the closer he creeps to desperation. His grip becomes tighter, and his pupils nearly blow-out with desperation.

It happens when he's fucking into you so hard that you see stars. When his tongue is so far inside you that neither of you can breathe. And when you’re taking him so well down your throat that you think you’ll sink right through the floor.

It's the same voice. The same urgency. And you can’t help but feel a little intrigued.

You nod. “Fine.”

"Good. Meet me in the coat closet," he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. "Five minutes."

"Harry—"

“Go,” he repeats, before releasing you so he can slip inside the mansion. 

You don’t need to be told twice. You immediately make your way for the door, weaving your way through the crowd in search of that familiar closet.

The inside of the house is packed with people. It’s loud and chaotic and there are more celebrities here than you can name.

But right now, you couldn’t care less. There’s only one person on your mind. One beautiful body that you can’t wait to run your hands down and it’s only five minutes away.

Once you’ve hidden yourself away in the small, dark space, you imagine all the things he might do. One of his favorites is watching the way he disappears inside you. The way your pussy stretches open to take his cock until you’re both a rather wet mess. You don’t doubt that he’ll find a way to do so tonight, and the thought makes you giddy.

Or perhaps he’ll blindfold you. Cut off all your senses until he’s all you know. Maybe you’ll blindfold him, another favorite. 

Truthfully, it doesn’t really matter what he does as long as he does it. Because even the thought leaves you breathless.

The door swings open exactly two minutes later. Harry is quick to lock you both in and turn on the light, twisting the bulb between his fingers until you can see everything you couldn’t before. Mostly coats and hats, but then…him. Somehow just as stunning as he was a few minutes ago, and smiling in a way that makes you want to drag him to his knees.

“You obeyed,” he whispers, stepping up to you until he can softly run his palm along your cheek. “You are a good little bunny after all, aren’t you?”

You pull your lip between your teeth. “Only when I think you deserve it.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

He leans closer, nose brushing against yours. “And do I still deserve that taste?”

Your lashes flutter before you forcefully push him away and point to his belt. “Take off your pants.”

You don’t want to have to rush, but you know Hugh will be looking for you soon so you can be by his side for his grand speech. Which means you’ll have to save the sensual looks and teasing touches for another day.

He starts with his shirt instead of his pants (just to spite you), grabbing at his collar before slipping the fabric over his head. Then he reaches for his zipper and drags it down, as slowly as he can all while keeping his eyes on yours.

With a rather unamused huff, you finally swat his hands out of the way in order to do it yourself. 

You yank the dark material down his legs, taking note of the boxers around his hips that practically call to you. You allow your fingers to slowly trail along his thighs. Higher and higher, groping at the strong flesh as he sighs and watches you with flushed cheeks.

Finally, you move for the band at his waist, pulling on it until it snaps back against his stomach, making him grunt.

He drops his head back with a curse, but once you start to drag your tongue along his abs…it’s game over. 

His hand is instantly in your hair, tugging at the scalp as though to remind you who’s really in charge. But you can feel his muscles quivering beneath your tongue and you hum when you hear him exhale your name.

You reach his pecs, taking a moment to brush your lips over his hardened nipple. He doesn’t seem to understand why this feels so good, but he enjoys it, and he certainly enjoys watching you do it, too.

You never leave him unsatisfied. You don’t think you could even if you tried. Sometimes, all you have to do is kiss him, and he’s nearly coming in his shorts as he grinds you against his lap. 

He knows his pleasure isn’t nearly as important as yours, but he enjoys the time you dedicate to him, nonetheless. 

You graze the nipple with your teeth, pulling it ever so slightly until he hisses, head dipping as your foreheads meet.

He wraps his fingers around the back of your neck with a firm squeeze before he’s pulling you up and kissing you hard. He starts with his tongue, exploring your mouth like it’s the first time, and honestly…it almost feels like it is.

Teeth clash, noses brush, breaths are stolen. You devour each other, greedy hands roaming freely, tangling in each other's hair.

"Can’t fucking stand you," he nearly groans against your mouth, his hips knocking into yours as he keeps you trapped against his chest. "Teasing me all night. Playing with me."

"You love it," you pant. "Love it when I play with you."

He grins. “Maybe I do.”

His hand moves to your one-piece until he finds the apex of your thighs. He smooths his palm along your cunt, cupping you harshly as you reel. He wants to feel how warm you are—how wet and desperate.

And you want him to feel it, too.

You swallow a needy sigh, almost as though you can’t let him hear. He can’t know how good this really feels. How depraved you really are of his touch. How starved.

But he knows. You know he knows, even through one little kiss.

It’s maddening.

He grabs onto the corset, ready to rip it down and reveal your chest to his hungry eyes, but you quickly snatch his wrist.

“No,” you exhale, shaking your head slightly. “Can’t rip it. Gentle.”

He scoffs, almost as though the thought of being gentle with you is absurd. Still, he knows Hugh would notice if your outfit has been torn, so he obeys, and unzips you instead.

The suit falls away, finally allowing him a good look at what you’ve been hiding from him all night.

Instantly, he’s got your tits in his hands, pulling at the tender flesh with a lewd grunt.

“Pretty,” he murmurs before sucking one into his mouth. “Fucking killing me, Bunny.”

Like a starved wolf, he starts to leave a trail of kisses wherever he can. Sloppy kisses that make you shiver as you fist his curls and laugh at the feel of your nipple between his teeth.

He swirls his tongue just the way you did, then flicks it gently while you sigh in his ear. Eventually, his fingers make their way to their previous spot, brushing at your inner thighs as though to warn you. And you’re given only a few seconds to prepare before he’s slipping the middle one inside and making you gasp.

The noise is covered by the loud music outside of the door, but Harry still hears it, and he beams as he starts to pump you slowly.

Your body invites him in the way it always does, squeezing him gently and clenching as though to keep him close. 

“Shit,” he curses, once again pressing his mouth to yours. “Missed this pretty pussy, baby.”

His large digit suddenly curls upward, motioning a moan from your lips and there it is. That’s what you needed.

You hold onto him for dear life, already lost in the feel. He's always been rather exceptional at touching you. At knowing your body better than anyone else does.

You’ve tried to replicate his actions on yourself, tried to make yourself cum as hard as he makes you when he’s the one doing it. But it's never the same. It feels like a waste of time to even try. It'll be weak and short. Pitiful. And trying again never works because it's just as disappointing as the first time.

But Harry…with his long fingers, his firm hand, his ravenous lips. Nothing will ever compare.

"Feel so good, sweetheart," he praises, lips staining your skin as he kisses the hollow of your neck. "Good girl. Lift for me, yeah?"

You obey, offering him your leg which he's quick to hook around his waist, spreading your open a bit further so he can slide himself deeper inside.

Another finger, another curl, another pinch. His thumb presses into your clit, circling it rapidly, making you whine into his shoulder. You can feel the coil already ready to snap, hardly surprised by how quickly you got here, but you know he’ll make sure to drag it on for as long as possible.

And as if to prove this, he slips his fingers out, and raises them to his lips. You nearly wilt right then and there, but you manage to hold your impatient façade as you cock your eyebrow upward before yanking his hand out and kissing him.

You can taste yourself on his lips, something you always seem to enjoy. The mix of you both together. 

And this is when he decides to ruin you, plunging his fingers back in with vigor until he hits that perfect spot. The one that has you gasping for air and moaning his name.

Your chest heaves with deep breaths. You’re close and you know it won’t be long until your cunt is fluttering around his hand and you’re dripping down his wrist. But you need more than that. Especially because this is the last time you’ll be with him for a while.

So, you grab onto his jaw and forcefully bring his eyes to yours.

“No,” you hiss. “Not like this. Fuck me like you mean it, Playboy.”

He hums, all without slowing his rhythm. “Impatient, little one?”

“Obviously.”

He makes an amused noise, but he doesn’t stop his thrusts. He plans to make you cum just like this before he fucks you and you don’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed.

You move your hand to his throat, squeezing the sides gently as you feel him swallow. His pulse is pounding beneath your fingertips, blown-out pupils glued to yours as you add just the slightest bit of pressure.

His soft inhale makes your stomach flutter. You happen to adore him like this, on the verge of complete submission. Merciless at your feet.

But you know it won’t last long. And once his eyelids begin to flutter, you yank him down for another kiss. Stealing the only breath he has left.

You can practically feel his cock twitching against your thigh as you tug his curls and suck on his tongue. But he’s not one to be outdone, and he continues rubbing your clit as quickly as he can, sweeping his fingers in a circle while you roll your hips against his hand.

"Gentle, sweetheart," he warns, throwing your own instruction back at you. 

You want to retort with a quippy remark of your own but choose instead to lick a stripe along his jaw. That suffices as your reply.

You don't have a lot of time, at least not for games. You’re playing against the clock, and you know Hugh will be calling for you any second.

Any other night, Harry would most likely edge you all the way to the brink. But tonight, he knows better, and he does everything he can to make you cum.

And when you do, you nearly lose your balance. It’s one of the most blinding and toe-curling orgasms you’ve ever had in your life. So much better than when you do it alone and you’re so grateful for his cocky attitude for the first time all summer.

Your body melts into his as you start to come down from your high. You almost wish it would never end. The way his lips feel on your cheek. The sound of his soft, proud praises in your ear. It’s everything.

But you know that’s not what he’s good for. So, instead, you push him away and step back. “Down.”

He looks at you. “Down?”

You nod toward the floor. “You wanted a taste. So take a taste, sweetheart.”

He crosses his arms. “Mm. Ask me nicely.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ask me nicely to eat you out and maybe I will.”

Your expression falls flat. “Take the goddamn taste, Harold, or I will go out there and find somebody who will.”

He’s amused, but you know he’s also nervous. He doesn’t like the idea that you’d take yourself from him, so, he clears his throat and slowly lowers to his knees.

Exactly where he belongs.

His head bows, something he doesn’t do quite that often, and your heart soars. He looks beautiful like this. Submissive and good. Everything you know he’s not. 

You brush your fingers through the curls draping across his forehead and he seems to settle into your touch before you’re hooking your finger under his chin and lifting his head.

Your eyes meet, a look of utter reverence written across his face as he gazes at you with awe and respect. And your stomach nearly twists as you whisper, “You know what to do.”

And he does. His mouth turns up in a gentle smile as he slowly reaches for your ankle. He resumes his earlier position, the bottom of your heel on top of his shoulder for access, and his other hand reaching to grab your hip and pull you towards his face.

You immediately bite your lip, anticipating the noises that are about to follow. 

Similar to this afternoon, he starts gentle, pressing kisses into your thighs ever so slowly. You know you’re soaking him. Can hear it and see it, even in the dim closet light.

He drags his tongue up your leg, collecting every drop that’s at his disposal, while you continue pushing back his hair so you can see him clearly. 

Finally, he reaches your swollen clit, still sensitive from his last assault, before he’s eagerly tracing it with the tip of his tongue.

You writhe in his hands, head turning to the side as you open your mouth to exhale a curse. And this seems to feed his ego because he repeats the action again, nose pressing into your hip as he inhales you like you’re fresh air on a spring day. Like you’re the only thing he wants in his lungs—the only breath he wants to take.

You pull his head closer as though to encourage him, and your name falls from his lips like rain.

“My sweet Bunny,” he nearly groans. “Can never get enough of you.”

“Good,” is all you can say. “We don’t have a lot of time, though. You need to be quick.”

“Who says I’m through? You owe me, sweetheart.”

You give his curls a sharp yank. “No. Get up and fuck me.”

He pouts, feigning a tantrum, but you know his cock is throbbing rather pitifully for you. So, he obliges, standing to his feet while you gather yourself in wait.

He tugs down his boxers, the only fabric left between you, and you try not to stare as you grab onto his shoulders and prepare to sink down.

“Five minutes,” you instruct softly. “Make it count.”

However, before you can feel that glorious tip pushing its way through, he’s suddenly grabbing onto your hips and spinning you around. Shoving you against the coat closet wall as you gasp.

Instantly, his hand comes up to slap against your lips. “Hush now," he hisses against your ear. "Unless you want Hugh to know what I'm really doing to his pretty girl?"

You’d roll your eyes if you didn’t feel his hips knocking into yours, giving you just a taste of what’s to come. Instead, you glance over your shoulder in an attempt to see him, and nod once.

But this isn’t good enough. So, he reaches for the bowtie around your neck, pulling on it until it snaps off into his hand. He holds it as though it were a prize he won in battle before he’s slipping it over your head and into your mouth.

You take it between your teeth and bite down obediently.

“Good,” he hums, giving your ass a quick spank. The sound echoes between the small walls. “That’s much better, hm?”

You feel him drag his cock through your dripping folds while his other hand ghosts down the curve of your spine. He’s gentle with you, despite his cruel taunting, and you’re almost impressed. Infatuated, even.

His warm body feels so good against yours. Luring you into a sense of security you can’t seem to find anywhere else. And you rather enjoy it as you feel the thickness of him starting to stretch you open.

You moan around the tie while Harry grunts in your ear. Just like the first time the two of you found yourselves in this position. 

And exactly like every other time before, he doesn’t rush you. He lets you feel—lets you enjoy—every inch and every second. Any other time, he’d make you beg. Beg him to go harder, go deeper. But tonight, you can’t, and it’s almost a shame he won’t get to hear it.

Instead, you offer a muffled whimper that seems to do the trick, and he chuckles to himself. “Need more, don’t you?”

You nod quickly, and he wraps his arms around your stomach in order to tug you back and guide you along his cock the way he wants.

He goes faster. His five minutes is now down to four, and he knows he’ll have to make this quicker than usual. Sharp, hard thrusts that make your legs shake and your heart race. But somehow, it’s still not enough.

“You like to play with me, don’t you, hm?” he begins to taunt. An angrier tone than before. “Make me watch you? With him?”

Your eyes nearly roll back, and you whine against the fabric on your tongue.

"Think I don't know?" he scoffs. "Think I don't know who this pussy belongs to?"

He starts to slow. A rather achingly languid pace that’s meant to make you scream, and you nearly do.

“I do,” he promises in a dark whisper. “I know exactly who you belong to.”

You arch your back and reach for his hair. Pulling his face into your neck as he leaves a trail of wet kisses all the way down to your shoulder.

“So stay,” he murmurs. “Stay with me. Don’t go back to him. Don’t make me jealous, Bunny. Don’t make me watch him touch you. Please.”

Please.

A word he rarely uses, even when you instruct him to. But it sounds so beautiful between his lips, and you nearly tell him you’ll never leave him again.

But you know he doesn’t mean it. It’s just what you say in a moment like this. So, you whimper, and tug on him harder. Pretending to agree until he smiles.

The small coat room has become a sauna, your naked bodies now writhing together as the rest of the world continues on around you.

You can hear the music, the people, the party. A constant reminder that while you’ve disappeared into your own little world within this closet...the two of you will never truly be alone.

But you don’t get a chance to focus on that when his hand suddenly reaches around to take hold of your chest. Plucking your nipple between his large, rough fingertips. You brace your forehead against the wall as you push yourself into his palm. Anxious for more, which he happily gives you.

The two of you move like the tide, one fluid motion of your bodies in rhythmic harmony. He leaves your tit to focus on your clit. Forcing you closer to a second orgasm that already feels much stronger than the first.

"Here," he breathes. “Give me your hand. Want you to touch yourself for me, okay? So I can watch you.”

Your arm trembles as you move it toward your thighs, where he easily takes your fingers and places them against your pussy exactly the way his had been.

“Just like that. Good. Rub it for me, sweetheart. Yeah…there you go. Attagirl. Keep going, don’t stop.”

You feel his eyes over your shoulder as you pinch and rub the swollen nerves as your legs shake. After a moment, he grabs your thigh and lifts your knee to the wall. Giving himself a different and deeper angle as you nearly cry out around the bowtie in your mouth.

Everything feels wet. And warm. And perfect. And you know you’re moments away from coming around his cock for the second time today.

“How you doing, baby?” he chuckles when he notices the fucked-out expression on your face. “You all right?”

You nod as best you can and clench down on his cock for confirmation. And he makes a rather animalistic noise before he’s grabbing onto your tit again and groping it in his palm. 

“Good. You gonna cum for me, little one? Milk me like I know you can?”

Another nod. You can hear the party growing louder, which means it’s almost midnight. And that means Hugh’s speech will be any second now.

You’re squirming harder, unable to fight such intense pleasure as it comes from his cock and your fingertips. But he catches you, grip tightening around your thigh as he squeezes so hard, you know you’ll see bruises in the shape of his name tomorrow.

But you don’t mind. You know you’ll be able to touch them in the shower and remember this—remember him.

“Cum,” he instructs, almost viciously. “Right now, Bunny. Fucking cum. Let me feel you. Gotta feel you, honey, please.”

You roll yourself back onto his cock just to feel full while he kisses your jaw and begs you to let go. 

You’re so close you can nearly taste it. And he’s even closer than you, doing his best to hold out but you know it’s rather hard with the watch you’re squeezing him.

And when you feel him start to buck and twitch, you can’t help but smile.

He spills inside you as he bottoms out. He hates coming first, and always tries incredibly hard not to. But tonight, you can’t exactly fault him, and as it turns out, the feel of him inside you—so warm it makes your head spin—is what you need to follow.

The orgasm nearly explodes behind your eyelids as you scream into the tie, forcing Harry to slap his hand back over your mouth to silence you.

“Quiet,” he hisses, nose pressed against your cheek. “Shut up.”

Yet you don’t even try. You don’t care that you might get caught or that someone could hear. Perhaps you will once the consequences catch up to you, but right now? Right now, you moan into his hand and allow every moment of this pleasure to take control of you. 

Your sweaty bodies melt together, damp hair clinging to your skin as Harry finally lets go and steps back.

But instead of pulling his clothes back on, the sadistic man drops back down to his knees, and spins you around.

He brushes your hand away from your clit in order to do the work himself. Resuming his previous pace on your rather abused nerves until you nearly crumble to the floor.

It’s almost too much. Your eyes roll back and your head drops against the wall. You can’t stand it, yet you can’t get enough.

“One more,” is all he says before diving forward for a lick. “Just one more, baby.”

You’re too sensitive. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes and you watch him through the blissful haze as he closes his eyes to savor the taste.

It’s a mix of you and him, and watching him lap at you like a thirsty man desperate for a drink is sinful. He’s so good. So beautiful like this. Devoted just to you the way no other man ever has been before.

Outside, you can hear the sound of Hugh calling for everyone’s attention. Your heart leaps into your throat. He’ll be furious if you’re not there. If he has to find you. And if he finds you with Harry?

You don’t have any more time. You have to go. Right now. But you’re so close, and Harry isn’t stopping, and you just need to finish, you just need…need—

You cum for the third and final time with a rather lewd and anguished moan.

Instantly, you start to slump forward as Harry leaps to his feet in order to keep you upright.

“That’s my girl,” he coos. “There you go. I’ve got you. S’okay.”

Your vision is fuzzy as you grip onto his shoulders for balance, the taste of the orgasm still bleeding along your tongue. 

But you can’t bid him goodbye just yet. So, you rip the tie from your mouth and kiss him. Drowning in the taste of him and you together. And nothing else really matters except his hands and the way they hold you close. 

“Good boy,” you exhale after you’ve pulled apart.“Knew you could do it.”

He only grins.

The two of you quickly work to redress, pulling on your clothes and shoes while Harry’s cum continues to streak down your thighs. It seems he didn’t get it all, and the realization that you’ll have to go out there with him still snug inside your cunt makes your stomach flutter.

When Harry notices your surprised expression, he winks. “Wanna make sure you’re thinking of me when you’re standing next to him.”

You scoff. But deep down, you know you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Harry helps you secure the tie back around your neck, effectively covering the hickeys he so generously left for you to find later. And you make sure to brush back his curls so they look a little more tame before swiping your thumb across his chin to collect what’s left of you.

And once you’ve finally gathered yourself, you move for the door, only stopping to give him one last glance.

“This was nice,” you tell him honestly. “Just make me a deal, okay?”

His eyebrow raises.

“Next time? Don’t wait so long.”

With that, you’re out the door. Leaving the breathless man behind. But you know it certainly isn’t the last time you’ll see him. After all, the summer is far from over.

And you’re just getting started.

HI!!! I just wanted to say that even though we have a Hugh Hefner in this story, I don't consider it to be the same one as the real one! I used his name because he's so famously associated with Playboy but I do not agree with or condone anything that he's done or how he treated people!

I am only using his name, but please imagine anyone you'd like! 💞

~ Main Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin

@justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda

@vamprry @fdl305 @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach

@lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana

@dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@laelamarley @idkkkkkkk123lgb 

[pomefioredove]

boop

summary: booping them + their reactions type of post: headcanons characters: third years additional info: is short, platonic or romantic, reader is gender neutral author's note: this would've been good to post for the tumblr april fool's event but I missed out so you're getting it now instead!

𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

hmm... okay!

trey often navigates his interactions with other students based on his interactions with his siblings

there's an order to human behavior, after all

especially with the underclassmen shenanigans (he's really seen it all at this point; don't ask)

none of his siblings, however, have walked up to him unannounced and booped his nose

not yet, at least?

it seems to make you happy though, so he just smiles

half of his job as vice housewarden is "going along with it"

he's pretty used to nonsense

𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

he's editing something on his phone the first time you try and doesn't even notice it

...and the second time, and the third

it becomes a sort of routine for you

tentatively trying to see how many times you can get away with it before he finally notices and says something

and it only spirals from there, of course

you'll up to him while he's talking to someone else, boop him, and walk away

(much to the other person's confusion)

does he notice? yeah, of course

do you need to know that he notices? ...maybe not

he likes the attention, just let him have this one

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫 ⋆˚⸙˖°༄✩⊹

he gnaws your hand off

okay, not really. too messy for him

(and the consequences would be such a headache to deal with...)

but he is all grumpy because you woke him up for that

"What was that supposed to be? -_- Don't do that again,"

rolls over and goes back to sleep

you're lucky he reacted as nonchalantly as he did tbh, lions don't like being pet, and he could've kicked you out of his room in a heartbeat for that

(maybe you get a special pass to be annoying)

note to you: don't do that again

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭 ˚⊹˚₊🕊 ˚✧ ₊

boops you back right away

does he necessarily know what that means? no, but he'll find out soon enough anyway

and based off your body language and expression it seems like a gesture of affection

...which he's all too happy to return

(he's so excited to be touching you affectionately he could explode)

now every time you see each other you end up going back and forth for hours

"boop!" "boop!" "boop!"

that's one sure way to give Vil a headache

(you may or may not end up temporarily banned from Pomefiore for disturbing the peace)

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭 ˚⊹˚₊🕊 ˚✧ ₊

you'd assume he gets annoyed, right?

well, he's a little surprised at first (people just don't go around touching him, after all)

then he just smiles

"Remember what we said about asking before touching, hm?"

you're lucky he thinks you're cute

(if not a little strange)

like, so lucky

congratulations on being the only human on earth who gets away with casually touching his face like that

𝐈𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 ₊✩‧₊˚⊹༄˚₊모‧₊

well. what do you expect

his eyes widen and his face (and hair) go pink and he internally freaks out (but externally just stands there)

"Um... What was that for?"

Idia might be a little more familiar with the conventions of a boop than anyone else

it's what you do to adorable little animals, right? like kitties and puppies?

so... why are you doing it to him?

if you say you "just felt like it" he might believe you

if you say it's because you think he's cute he will be avoiding you for the rest of the month

good luck!

𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚 ✩⁺₊°⊹ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ☽｡°⊹

blinks.

has zero clue what you meant by that

but you seem happy with yourself so it couldn't have been a bad thing, right?

"I'm unfamiliar with that gesture. Is that a greeting from your home?"

you explain that it's a sort of affection you show towards cute things

"Oh, well... you're quite brave. I'm honored,"

he's definitely all sunshine and rainbows for the rest of the week

he's all but giggling and kicking his feet back and forth

no one really questions him

and he doesn't really explain

(if Sebek finds out you booped the heir to the throne of Briar Valley as if he were a kitty cat he will gnaw your hand off)

𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞 ✩⁺₊°⊹ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ☽｡°⊹

pleasantly surprised, doesn't even question it

he is adorable, after all, he can't blame you for wanting to be affectionate with him

boops you back, of course

after all, aren't you just the cutest thing too?

if you try to walk away after booping him he will find you to return the favor

will somehow make it a competitive sport

waiting for you around corners, hiding in every nook and cranny so that he might catch you by surprise and boop you

(he is totally keeping count of who's ahead)

it makes the school a warzone for like a solid week before Silver's pleas to "please be normal about the prefect" finally work

(AKA Lilia gets bored of it and finds another way to be close to you)

[vmlnrznotfound]

imagine sae giving u backshots while ur wearing his jersey🤤🤤💆‍♂️💆‍♂️

you hadn't meant to wear sae's jersey. it was just something you threw on in the morning without thinking.

you'd been too tired to dig through your closet for something else, and his jersey was right there on top of the laundry pile, freshly washed yet smelling like him. it was big and comfortable, and it made you feel a little closer to him even though he was in the next room.

sae was in the living room, sitting on the couch, scrolling through something on his phone when you walked in. you didn't think much of it at first—you often wore his clothes around the house, especially when you were feeling particularly shy or in need of comfort.

it wasn't until you caught the way he was looking at you that you started to feel a little self-conscious.

his eyes were darker than usual, following your every move as you padded across the room and sat down on the opposite end of the couch.

the jersey was loose on you, the hem falling just above your knees, and you found yourself tugging at it nervously, suddenly aware of how exposed you felt under his gaze.

"hey," you mumbled, trying to ignore the way your heart was beating a little faster.

sae didn't respond right away. he just kept staring at you, his expression unreadable. it made you fidget, and you looked down at your hands, feeling the warmth of his gaze on you like a physical touch.

you glanced up at him then down, cheeks heating up. "i...yeah, sorry, i didn't mean to-"

"don't apologize," he interrupted, his tone soft but with an underlying edge that sent a shiver down your spine. "i like seeing you in it."

you blinked at him, surprised by his words. sae wasn't usually so vocal about his feelings, especially when it came to something as simple as you wearing his clothes. but there was something different in the way he was looking at you now—something that made your breath catch in your throat.

"really?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper "it's just...comfortable."

"comfortable, huh?" sae leaned back against the couch, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. "you have no idea what you're doing to me right now, do you?"

you swallowed hard, your pulse quickening at his words. you shook your head, too flustered to speak.

the truth was, you didn't really know what he meant—you were just wearing his jersey, something you'd done a hundred times before. but the way he was looking at you, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, made you feel things you couldn't quite put into words.

he moved closer to you on the couch, closing the distance between you. his hand reached out, gently cupping your chin to tilt your face up toward his. your breath hitched as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "you're driving me crazy."

the warmth of his breath against your skin made you shiver, and you could feel your face growing hotter by the second. "i...i didn't mean to," you stammered, your voice trembling slightly.

"i know you didn't. but that just makes it worse." sae says, his voice low and dangerous.

before you could respond, sae's hands moved to your shoulders, gently turning you around so your back was pressed against his chest. you could feel his breath hot against your ear as he leaned in even closer, his lips barely grazing the shell of your ear.

"you have no clue how much i want you right now," he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. his hands slid down your arms, fingers brushing against your skin in a way that made your heart race.

you were completely surrounded by him—his scent, his warmth, the deep, husky tone of his voice. it was overwhelming, and all you could do was lean back against him, your breath coming in shallow gasps as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

"sae…not here, not like this." your voice was soft, laced with hesitation, and sae immediately understood.

he paused his kisses on your neck, feeling your legs still wrapped around his waist. with a gentle nod, he pulled you closer, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. as he carried you, your lips met in fleeting, delicate kisses, each one sending shivers down your spine, making the walk to the bedroom feel like an eternity.

sae set you down gently, his touch reassuring as he whispered, "turn over." though your shyness made you hesitate, you found yourself complying, trusting him completely.

sensing your unease, sae guided you with careful hands, positioning you on all fours that eased your nerves.

sae took out the condom from the drawer, ripping the plastic with his teeth as he wore it on. "ready?"

tagging: @someprettyname @ikuaiku

[rainylana]

“Somebody else.”

Modern!bully!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: your bully realizes he’s in love with you.

warnings: god i love this so much and i’m so pleased with how it turned out. it’s short, but i’m in love with it! bully!eddie, mentions of drinking and getting high, drunk and high sex but it’s consensual, enemies to lovers, some brief smut and groping, heavy making out, this is based of my last relationship lol i basically lived this whole fic lmao. reader and eddie are over 18! based on my favorite song somebody else by the 1975!

He hates you. At lease he thought he did. It had been that way since he could remember. So why, all of a sudden, was he looking at you like that? 

Eddie never looked at you like another human being. He treated you like a toy, something to play with and keep him busy, but when he got bored, he tossed you to the side like you meant nothing.

He got off on being mean to you, that should have been his first clue. Pulling your hair in class, tripping you in the hallway, copying your homework, taking most of your food at lunch.

He seemed to thrive off making you miserable, gaining pleasure on those days where he could see his antics were getting to you more than they usually did.

The only one who saw through this was Steve, who dared not to say anything, because he knew how Eddie would react, and you’d pay for it in the end. He kept his mouth shut, but he knew the truth.

And apparently, so did Eddie tonight.

You looked so carefree. So..peaceful and without a single care in the world. You looked beautiful, he came to realize, staring at you from across the room, back to the wall and cigarette hanging from his lips.

It was the annual end of the year party at Steve’s house, one where almost everyone in town would show up at. Even Eddie. He only did because he knew you’d be there. His second clue.

The dance floor was crowded, yet Eddie could only seem to focus on you. Your face glowed in shades of flashing colors, purple, red’s and blue’s as you danced, hands in the air as you twirled and spun in circles, legs kicking out and hips swinging side to side.

“I don’t want your body but I hate to think about you with somebody else”

The speakers screamed the lyrics of Somebody Else by The 1975, a song you had requested. Eddie had never heard of it before, but after tonight, he’d never be able to get it out of his head, not with the scene you displayed for him.

“Our love has gone cold, you’re intertwining your soul with somebody else”

He was high, that’s what it was. He was stoned out of his mind and drunk. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, blinking as quickly as he could around the room, clearing his throat. He was hidden in the corner of the room, his face glowing red from the disco ball at his side, red solo cup in hand with some sort of mysterious liquid that burned on the way down.

But his eyes found you again. He couldn’t help it.

“I’m looking through you while you’re looking through your phone and then leaving with somebody else”

Steve was watching Eddie. He was watching both of you, but especially Eddie. The way his eyes wouldn’t leave you, the way his fingers clenched around the plastic cup when you moved your hips a certain way. He smirked, making his way across the room. Eddie barely noticed his presence.

“Make your move, Munson.” Steve clapped his hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze of encouragement before returning to the spiked punch bowl.

Eddie didn’t have words to speak, giving Harrington a glance before his eyes were back on your body.

“No, I don’t want your body but I’m picturing your body with somebody else”

Images flashed in his eyes, recalling the days he spent bullying you in school, the days you cried and broke down when he’d said one too many things. He gulped, suddenly feeling very foolish of himself. Make your move, Munson. He had no move to make, did he?

The chorus repeated and you let your head lull back, eyes closed as if the lyrics were speaking to you like they were to him. He wasn’t the only one who thought you looked beautiful. His attention flickered to the strange man, a man he did not recognize, making his way through the crowd to dance with you.

He swallowed hard, shaking his head. You were his and his alone. You always had been. It seemed tonight was the night he needed to tell you that.

The song turned to the instrumental beat as he shoved everyone out of the way, heavy boots tapping against the hardwood floor. “Excuse me.” He very much rudely shoved your fellow dance partner to the side, ignoring his exclamation, including yours.

“I Don’t want your body but I hate to think about you with somebody else”

“Eddie!” Your eyes widened, voice barely audible over the loud music.

“Our love has gone cold, you’re intertwining your soul with somebody else”

His thick, large hands grabbed at your face, pulling you into his mouth with a hot, desperate kiss that screamed I love you, I always have. The song continued to play and he continued to kiss you, the beat dropped and you kissed back, the initial shock wearing off and realizing just exactly who it was that was kissing you.

You pushed him back, but only briefly, the look of fear across his face before you jumped back into his arms.

“I’m looking through you while you’re looking through your phone and then leaving with somebody else”

Your lips molded together like a piece of sculpted clay, tongues dancing like everyone else in the room, noses fitting together lockets.

His hand was dropping from your face to grab your hand, dragging you through the crowd and upstairs. Neither of you said a word, heart in your throat as you practically ran to keep up with him. He slammed the door to a spare room, a room he’d drunkenly slept in many nights, and pushed you against the wall.

The music vibrated underneath you, and you could hear the lyrics continue your favorite song. His mouth was on you again, lifting up your thighs to wrap around his torso.

“You dance with me,” He husked between deep, sloppy kisses. “and only me. Got it?”

You whimpered into the kiss, pressing your hips where your clothed heat met his groin. “Yes.” You nodded furiously. “Only you.”

“Only me.” He barely whispered, repeating you quickly as his hands slipped down to your ass, carrying you to the bed behind him. He dropped you, roughly yanking down your panties with a quick movement that had your head feeling fuzzy.

His full hand cupped your pussy, feeling you briefly before he was pulling out his cock. He couldn’t wait. The song was still playing, and he could see the way your lips twitched the lyrics as he thrusted into you sharply, dragging a long moan from you as you pushed up the bed.

“Somebody else.” You barely choked out the words, drunk yourself, as you both fucked each other.

[xokohaneazusawa]

what if boothill using readers chest as a pillow and going to sleep on it while cuddling up... SLEEPY BOOTHILL PLEASE!!

✮ - It was normally around 7pm by the time both you and your husband had finally put your daughter down to bed. You'd like to think your life was simple, living in a simple ranch house, with two of the people you loved most. You sighed as you finally made your way out of your daughters room, she was at that point in her life where she needed somebody to stay with her until she fell asleep. You were tired yourself, as instead of your lover attending to the animals, it was your day too. It wasn't long before you made your way to your shared bedroom and sprawled yourself out on the King size bed. Boothill had been taking a shower at the time, well you assumed based on the fact that there was steam coming out of the quarter of an open bathroom door, and his whistling. About 10 minutes later, you had turned yourself around, resting your back on the headboard and picking up the book from your bedside table, you opened up to the page you had last been on. Though throughout this you hadn't noticed that the shower had been turned off, or you're slightly still damp husband had walked out, his hair still a little wet, and the shirt he was wearing having small wet spots on it from the water that was left on him. His pajama shorts were a longer black pair, so you could really tell if they had any water on them, but when he rushed over, seeing you lying there all peacefully you would soon tell that, indeed, he was still a little damp all over. Before you could even react to the fact that he was coming at you, he plopped himself down on your stomach, before taking the book out of your hand and lying it face down back on your bedside table. You laughed at his sudden eagerness before he spoke up, muffled by your stomach. "I haven't a clue what ya laughing at... but could ya' maybe move down a scooch?" You soon understood what he meant, and more importantly what he wanted to do so badly that would require you to move down. So you picked up the book first, placing your bookmark back in the page that you were supposed to have finished and placed it back down, the correct way, on the side table. He shifted a little to give you space to move and the second you were in a good spot he placed his face right on your chest, no questions asked. You looked down at him and were a little surprised that the fact that his eyes were already closed, and his breathing had already slowed down a lot. Was he really that tired? He slowly peaked one eye open and gave a lazy smile. "..Why don't cha turn off that light so we can snuggle and head off ta' bed?" You nodded and quickly reached up, turning off the lamp placed beside your bed. The whole room went dark and all you could hear were soft breaths of your husband, who you assumed had already fallen asleep against you. "Well.. I guess there's no getting out of this now.." You thought with a smile. Well it could have been way worse, he could have been snoring as well Spoke too soon..

[onlyangel4]

must be love. mv1. smau.

max verstappen x singer!reader

request: hey, since your requests are open: maybe max + "must be love" by laufey? have a good dayyy

max and reader are both experiencing their one great love together.

faceclaim: laufey

y/ninsta posted a story

written: on today's episode of trying to make friends while solo travelling looking for music inspiration. i'm in monaco and i just brought an ice cream when it started tipping it down and some guy ran up to me to give me his umbrella. maybe i will be making friends this trip.

y/ninsta posted a story

written: the fit for meeting umbrella guy's friends

alexandrasaintmleux posted a story posting y/ninsta

written: guys i think i found my soul sister

maxverstappen posted a story

danielricciardo replied to your story: you have known her for ten days and you are already soft launching

maxverstappen: they say when you know you know. and i know.

y/ninsta posted a story

written: monaco delivered! i'm back in the recording studio

maxverstappen posted a story

written: first song written about me, pending...

y/ninsta posted a story

written: umbrella boy is now umbrella boyfriend

y/ninsta

liked by sabrinacarpenter, maxverstappen, alexandrasaintmleux and 560,912 others

tagged maxverstappen

y/ninsta: as most of you know about three months ago, i decided to go around europe to see if i could find some much need inspiration for music. six weeks ago on my second day in monaco i found that inspiration max. i have never been one to fall in love fast but with max it was so fast, i felt like i had met my soulmate from the moment i laid on eyes with him. and that feeling inspired this new song. must be love is out at midnight. i love you umbrella boy!

view all 23,401 comments

maxverstappen: does this mean you are going to stop calling me umbrella boy now

y/ninsta: keep dreaming umbrella boy

alexandrasaintmleux: i'm so grateful he met you because that meant i got to meet you

y/insta: stop alex. i'll cry.

user1: mother said she had met a man. i had no fucking clue it would be the max verstappen

maxverstappen

liked by danielricciardo, y/ninsta, charlesleclerc and 1,283,711 others

tagged y/ninsta

maxverstappen: a month with you and i'm already planning a lifetime

view all 32,492 comments

y/ninsta: glad you are already aware that you are stuck with me forever

maxverstappen: there is no one i would rather be stuck with

charlesleclerc: i am so glad that you two are dating. for a while i was worried alex would leave me for her.

y/insta: me and alex are in love you are both just our side hoes

[jjenthusee]

Late Night Talks Pt. 2

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: After posting the first part (linked here), I felt unsatisfied at the ending. Then after reading comments and reblogs, you guys felt the same. Great minds think alike! So I whipped out my phone, wrote out a couple lines and tried a couple edits that I thought would give these two a satisfying ending, but I realized that if I planned it, it didn’t feel right. So, I went off instinct and I hope this lives up to what you guys expect :D ( @nckcn your wish is my command hope you enjoy these two being clumsy again <3, @misadear i hope this qualifies as hurt/comfort <3, @janybabyy you wont have to buy a new pair of locks <3, and @heavysighing-dreamyeyes since you gave us a second part to your kitchen dances fic I had to do the same <3) as always comment if your comfortable, reblog, and ENJOY

Tags: Jason is clumsy, fluff worth vomiting over, anxious Jason, hurt/comfort ;D

Word Count: 2.6k

Your back hurt, your head ached.

The back of your eyes stung as you tried to open them, the sun’s rays engulfing the entire couch.

At some point in the night you must have crawled up from the intense crying session you had on the floor.

The puffiness surrounding your eyes weren’t going to be fun to get rid of. Nothing like cold spoons to start your morning.

Your mind swirled as you sat up, slowly moving yourself into a sitting position. Bracing your feet to touch the cold floor, but it was soft and fluffy.

You leaned forward, looking down to find a blanket had fallen, sprawled in various folds and flattened as your feet rested on it.

“Did I grab a blanket last night?” You asked yourself, standing up, wondering for a second in confusion.

Then you glanced at the window where the bright sun rays invaded the room. It was shut, but not locked.

Weird. You thought.

Your face suddenly contorting as the memories flooded in. One by one, hearing your voice from last night flood your head like your own mind wanted you to face the consequences.

You sighed into the air, finally bending down to remove the blanket from the floor. Neatly folding it and placing it where you once laid.

You slowly rubbed at the fabric, mindlessly repeating the movements as you thought to yourself.

“He came back.”

You had memories of him visiting your drinking session and Jason had left clues that he had came back from suddenly leaving. He didn’t have to, but the blanket, the clean coffee table, and unlocked window meant he had cleaned up. He got you to bed. Took care of you.

“Shit.” You breathed out. “He must have saw and heard everything.”

You groaned, rubbing your hands down your face.

You needed some cold spoons and some medicine.

——

You had to give it to yourself, despite the horrible drunk late night confession, you were glad it only started your weekend. You couldn’t imagine going to work the day after everything.

You could safely rot throughout your day, wasting the day away from your mistakes.

So after a good look in the fridge, you settled for leftovers and a half drunken apple juice. Interesting combo, but you just needed something to digest.

The rest of the day went by as uneventful as your morning.

Laying on the couch, aimlessly watching videos on your phone, reading random posts.

Recovery was awful, especially a mental one.

How were you going to talk to Jason? Would he ever come back? Would you have to fake a robbery scenario? No, that was a bit much.

As you aimlessly thought, yogurt and spoon in hand, the sound of a latch broke your focus.

Click.

Heavy boots hit the floor, scaring you as your head moved to the sounds.

You were wrapped in the same blanket from that morning, a small yogurt stain adoring it, but all the same.

“Jason?” You called out, stunned.

He was frantically walking to you, full Red Hood gear, red helmet on his head rather than a domino mask.

He had a hand full of paper bags in his hands. He stopped directly in front of you, looking down at you, a shadow casted on your body from his sheer mass.

“Jason—what? Why are you—“ You stammered, tilting your face in confusion.

“I don’t understand.” Jason exhaled.

“Wha—I mean, I don’t understa—“

“I don’t know how I got here. I don’t know why I have all these bags with me, but I couldn’t leave.” Jason shoved all the bags onto your lap at once.

You couldn’t do anything as the bags fell on one another, another falling to the floor, the contents spilling out. You watched because Jason blocked the coffee table to put down your yogurt and spoon.

“I don’t know. I bought you all this stuff, but I was only planning to get some toothpaste, but it bothered me so much. Last night, I had never heard you talk so much or seen you that gone. But I got worried then I walked to the medicine aisle, then I was walking by the snacks—“ Jason rambled, pacing in front of you, not really understanding how everything escalated when he came to you.

Jason couldn’t hear you repeat his name, so you let him finish. You looked at the contents on your lap. Aspirin, cheeseballs, an ice pack, water, and many more items that you couldn’t look at because you wordlessly held yogurt at the surprise intrusion.

“—then the guy at the cash register was looking at me funny, like ‘What? You don’t see vigilante’s shop at midnight?’ This is Gotham for crying out loud, but I was worried you wouldn’t take care of yourself, although I think it was my fault.”

“Jay, breathe.”

Jason took a quick breath, unconsciously obeying you.

“But that isn’t why I’m here. I couldn’t understand anything that night.” Jason stopped pacing and faced you directly.

After staring at each other for a second too long, you exhaled, motioning Jason to sit next to you with a spoon still in your hand. The couch dipping from his weight and the paper bags leaning toward him.

“I’ve repeated that conversation a million times in my head, but every time I got to the end, it bothered me so much.” Jason frustratingly told you.

You met, what you assumed to be Jason’s stare, from under the helmet, modulated breaths falling with his chest. You looked at your red reflection, watching the tiredness in your eyes. You looked awful.

“Why are you bothered, Jay?” You asked, finally putting the yogurt and spoon down since your visitor stopped pacing.

A lot was happening right now, but in some ways you were relieved that Jason came back. Frantic, but you could deal with that.

“I couldn’t reject you. It didn’t even cross my mind.” Jason admitted, helmet expressionless. You wondered if he could have said any of this without his helmet shielding his face, his expression.

“I told you, I would let you ruin me.” You answered. Watching his movements, trying to find any sign of what he truly wanted.

“But I don’t deserve it. As long as I have this scar marking my face, I won’t be worthy enough for you.”

“I disagree.” You soothed. You kept your voice calm, trying not to frighten Jason and his sudden vulnerability.

“Why?!” Jason nearly yelled in disbelief. “I don’t understand how you can love me when I haven’t done anything that deserves it!”

Jason was breathing rapidly, his modulator breaking in and out.

You carefully moved the blanket and the paper bags off you, moving yourself closer to Jason. You moved your hands up, making sure they were visible to him.

“I’m going to remove your helmet. Are you okay with that, Jason?” You waited, but no answer came out of the man in front of you. “I’m going to remove it because I want to see you and make sure you’re breathing okay, okay?”

He didn’t answer again.

You meticulously moved to his face, moving his helmet up, sections of Jason’s face becoming visible to you. Messy and matted hair covering his head and forehead.

You settled the helmet next to you.

His eyes shifting anxiously, his body looked like it was almost vibrating.

You stood up from the couch, slowly kneeling on the ground in front of Jason, carefully closing yourself in between his legs. Leaving enough space between the two of you, so you didn’t touch.

Now that you were in front of him, you locked onto his eyes. Making sure he was paying attention to you. You took deep breaths, guiding Jason to do the same. At first, he clumsily puffed, but once he balanced his rhythm with yours, his shoulders were evening as they lowered the more he calmed himself.

You didn’t want to break any boundaries because he was overwhelmed. You wanted to calm him, not heighten his current state.

With a steady breath, you laid your hands in your lap, keeping your eye contact with Jason.

“I don’t mind all the gifts, I’m happy you got them for me. I appreciate them because I know you thought of me when you bought them. The water, my favorite snack, and the medicine, but what I truly want right now is you.”

You kept your voice as normal as possible. Trying to show Jason that vulnerable conversations were okay, they were more than okay. They should be okay.

“You are already worthy enough of my love, Jason. More than worthy. I’m proud of you, that you tried to convey it to me too. I have things I need to work on as well.”

You smiled at Jason, gazing up at his head drooped down to you. You were glad he was okay with the closeness, the intimacy.

“I didn’t tell you my feelings the right way.” You continued, a chuckle bubbling in your throat. “I promised myself to do this sober, if I got the chance again, no wine in my system this time.”

Jason weakly smiled like the sound of your laugh calmed him. His hair drooping down to his forehead. He had leaned forward enough to rest his hands on his knees.

The more you talked to him, the closer he was getting to you. It could have been unconscious or he intended for it to happen, but he was drawn to you like a magnet.

“No, no, no.” Jason whispered as he shook his head from side to side. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m glad you think so, but I should have said it better and at a pace you were comfortable with.”

Jason didn’t respond. He was at a loss for words, not really understanding what direction he needed to address things.

So you guided him, letting him take his first steps into emotional vulnerability.

“I would like to know how you’re feeling. You can tell me things like if I’m overwhelming you, if I need to clarify anything, or anything you can think of. Because that’s the best part of all of this, we get to learn about each other. I get to understand who Jason is and you can learn as much as you want about me.”

Jason meekly reached his hand out to you. Slowly, carefully like he didn’t know if his body was capable of being gentle, but the fears left him once he touched your face. His fingers cupping your cheek.

Nervously watching your reaction, he was anticipating you to pull back, to react with disgust. But you sat there, staying the same way you did.

Then once he felt better, more at ease, he moved his hand further to you, his hand was large enough that some of his fingers touched behind your ear, rubbing at your hair line.

You closed your eyes, exhaling at the relief that he was okay, that he was initiating a new step in your relationship.

You focused on the small rubs from his thumb. Unconsciously leaning into it, Jason simultaneously sucking in a breath.

He was shocked that you let him do this. Numerous times was he close to grabbing your hand, wiping your tears when you cried, and touching your hair. He had restrained himself every time the thought distracted him, but now that he got a small taste of heaven, he didn’t know if he could ever live without it.

“That night…” Jason hesitated.

You opened your eyes, slowly blinking your eyelashes to look up at him.

He lost his breath again, seeing you sitting there, paying attention to him, anticipating what he was going to say.

“That—that night I did come back. It probably wasn’t a good idea after what happened, but I wanted to see you. You were sound asleep, your face drying from the tears and I helped clean up.”

You carefully listened, letting Jason talk as slowly or as much as he wanted.

“I carried you onto the couch and I covered you with a blanket. And I left, but I didn’t go far. I spent a while sitting on the roof of the building across.” Jason’s eyes softened as he spoke, reminiscing.

“I had to carefully think of everything you said. I was so scared that I almost left and never came back. But when I was ready to run, I couldn’t get the image of how hurt you were, crying into the couch.”

You placed your hand over Jason’s. Both warming your cheek.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of you going through that again. Without me.” Jason’s voice hardened, frustrated with his thoughts and contradictions. “But, you also don’t need me. You deserve better.”

“And you are my ‘better.’ You see a version of me that I hate, but you still treat me as I am. I feel safe with you, you lift me up in ways I don’t have the words to describe. I don’t deserve you, Jason.”

Jason moved down to the floor with you, joining you in a kneel, his knees on the sides of yours, demonstrating the sheer size difference.

He cupped your face in both of his hands, his face close to yours, a serious look in his eyes.

“No, you’re perfect. You’ve even accepted me.” He trembled again, not the same as his anxiousness from before. A gentle tremble that embodied all his emotions, his tenderness.

“Jason, you love so much. You love so much that you can’t handle all of it in your heart and I admire that about you. You care about so many people and things that you end up hurting a lot. I want to be there next to you, hurting along with you.” You inhaled, your lungs and throat stinging from your need to tell Jason all your feelings. “I want to live a life filled with your love. I love you, so so much that it hurts.”

Jason wiped your tears with his thumbs. He leaned in, brushing his lips near yours, his eyelashes nearly touching his cheeks as he looked at you.

“I love you too, I want to see you make mistakes, smile when I think of you. I can finally breathe when I’m next to you.”

You trembled at Jason’s words. The raw vulnerability he was giving you.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said. And you were wrong. I want to be next to you. You said it felt right and I believe it too. I know you told me not to tell you, that it would ruin you, but I want to ruin you.”

Jason breathed, the air touching your lips that left his.

“I’m selfish too because I want every part of your life.” Jason whispered onto your lips.

“And you can have it.” You whispered back.

Then Jason leaned in, taking all the breath from your lungs as he kissed you. Your head leaning back at the sweet weight of him.

It was perfect, the two of you kneeling toward one another, your face held in Jason’s hands, his body pulling you in.

As you lost your breathe, your legs wobbled from all the want radiating from the man in front of you.

You leaned away, panting, pausing from the possibility of consuming all of Jason’s love at once. A beautiful overwhelming feeling.

Jason held you, not wanting to part an inch further. He watched you take your breaths.

“You’re breathtaking.” He lulled, kissing your eyes, your nose, the corner of your mouth.

You giggled at the brief kisses. Holding onto his arms, feeling the muscle flex underneath.

After endless kisses, you slept well in the arms of the man you love, tangled in the cushions of the couch that witnessed the end of a relationship and the start of another.

[honoura]

Shaaloani: The Land of Enchantment Part Two

Hello again! First of all thank you so much for your responses to these posts -- I've really enjoyed reading your reblogs. I'm glad folks are enjoying this!

As I mentioned in the first post -- here is the second half! It's covers the plants and animals I thought worth special distinction. By that I mean animals that communicate how much research was done regarding this zone. So no rroneek, no uxtena. It's pretty clear they are both meant to be buffalo and rattlesnakes.

And if you're somebody who hadn't caught that, um... surprise! That's what they're based on.

If you're somehow getting this post without reading or seeing Part One first, here is a link to Part One. I'd recommend giving it a read first.

With that taken care of, let's pick up where we left off before!

Shaaloani Flora

Aside from the cacti, there are a lot of plants I recognize as native to the regions discussed in Part One! First is this scrubby, short and wide tree. It took a few screenshots and a lot of scrutiny. I was torn for a bit thinking it was a creosote bush, but upon zooming in close I'm of the mind it's a redberry juniper tree instead!

The leaves are long and thing, and the shape gives to mind of juniper needles more. Juniper 'leaves' kind of scale over each other and between texture resolution and my horrible eye sight I can't tell if this does the same. Still! There's a photo below my two screenshots for further emphasis:

These are also the trees turned red near the ceruleum fields -- junipers tend to do that when they are dying. They are also incredibly hardy so typically when you've managed to kill one it's likely not good.

I will say when I was out here I noticed the botanist gathering log has mesquite beans on it -- and you harvest them from these trees! Which is too silly for me; so here's a link to the the wiki about honey mesquite, and a photo of the beans on a tree.

It's probably a reach to try and ID this grass in the Yawtanane Grasslands, but given that it caught my eye I felt inclined to make a pitch. For context child me thought a fun and engaging after school club project was to learn how to identify grass and other plants native to Texas. So when I looked at it I wanted to take a guess based on other regional clues:

To me I think it could be cane bluestem, a grass that's drought tolerant and popular for grazing animals. And its seeds are dispersed from these little fluffy heads like this.

I will say as a caveat that a lot of grass in this area can be dispersed by wind. So it might not be cane bluestem -- hell it's a stretch to even try this. But I like to think they also considered the grass.

The bush above I also hmmed and hrmmed about for a bit before positing if it was meant to be black persimmon. It's commonly called Texas persimmon or Mexican persimmon -- and it's found in Coahuila, Tamaulipas and Neuvo León. They generally just look like big shrubs instead of trees.

I mentioned this in part one, but I'll go ahead and reiterate here a few things:

One is I think Lake Taori's about the only place that reads as specifically Texas

Two is it's not a bayou. That's an East Texas ecosystem and way too wet for Shaaloani

Three is there are cypress trees west of San Antonio growing along the Frio river, and doing quite well! Garner State Park has quite a few of them

I stand by this because these trees are show to be reproducing by making 'knees' -- offshoots from their root system. Think of it like Pando.

I also feel cypress is correct; the trunks are wider at the base than higher up, and the leaves are the right shape. I also appreciate there's Spanish moss hanging from them, which is also pretty common.

The last plant I want to cover is this flowering bush -- I'm going to admit this one was a struggle because I don't know of a lot of bushes with large white flowers like this. I've seen flowers of this shape, but most tend to be ground cover plants that grow very low to the soil.

What I think it might be, which would feel appropriate, is a take on the datura. They can get a bit higher off the ground than most wildflowers. And they were used by several native tribes for cultural practices.

The flowers are bigger in real life than depicted here -- so this is a reach! If someone has a better suggestion I'm open to it.

Shaaloani Fauna

When Fate farming out here, I've seen several players comment like 'huh, there sure are a lot of dinosaurs on this map'. And you're right! Because a lot of this region is home to some incredibly rich fossil formations.

Big Bend National Park contains part of the Javelina Formation -- home to large creatures such as the Quetzalcoatlus, a pterosaur that boasted a 39 foot wingspan. You can read about fossils found in Big Bend here. The Javelina Formation has its own wiki article that details some of the specimens found within it, including the Bravoceratops and the Torosaurus. The Ojo Alamo Formation in New Mexico is home to the Ojoceratops. Just south of these is the Aguja Formation in the Mexican states of Coahuila and Chihuahua. These formations are home to fossils of all three types of scalekin above -- as well as alligators, who are also on this map!

Other Formations in the Southwest home to great fossil finds are:

Kayenta Formation (Colorado & Utah)

Tepetate Formation (Mexico)

Black Peaks Formation (Texas)

There's even a fun sightseeing lore blurb which acknowledges this!

I think this is a fun addition to the zone that strengthens the real world inspiration sources and have fun with world building -- a lot of the formations near the Permian Basin were along the shore or under the waves of the Permian Sea!

And that's all I have! Thank you all for indulging me, and by all means take any and all of this to do with what you will in roleplay. Have fun with it!

[hemmingshouse]

a long forever / chris sturniolo

summary: chris tries to make things right with you after he fucked up big time.

warnings: swearing, mentions of prior cheating, angst (but semi happy ending!!)

let me know if yall want a part twoooo x

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“if you truly don’t give a shit about me and fuck me over in the first place, then why the fuck are you here?” you asked him sternly, sighing deeply before rubbing your eyes - the crying you had done prior had irritated them massively. “please enlighten me christopher, because i have no. fucking. clue.”

the brunette sighed softly, letting his hands roam through his hair. he had messed up so bad this time and he wasn’t sure how to fix it - if that was even possible to begin with.

you and chris had been keeping it on the down low with each other for a while now. you went on silly little dates, got to know his best friends and brothers and loved to spend most of the week at his apartment; lounging around the place and exploring every inch of each other’s bodies for around five months now.

it all went so well. slowly you started to appear more on his tiktoks and the sturniolo channel, making the fans think you two at least spent time together because of the massive tension between the two of you. you met his family, had even stayed in boston for the holiday season and went on a little getaway together for your birthday.

“i care so fucking much about you! i- just- please listen to me,” chris pleaded as he stood in your kitchen, hands running over his face in pure desperation, “i have never felt this way before. about anyone. i swear.”

you scoffed at his words, shaking your head in disbelief, “remember when we said we’d at least be honest if we felt this wouldn’t work out so the friendship we had wouldn’t go to waste?” you motioned between the two of you, “you lied to me. god, you’re the biggest motherfucker i have ever met, christopher. i wasted my time on you. on us. on whatever the fuck we were.”

ouch, full government name - for the second time. he knew you weren’t fucking around.

he deserved all of that. every curse word you spat at him, every raise of your voice. it pained and sickened matt to see you go from adoring him so much till it hurt to now hating every inch of his fiber. to see you hurt because of his actions made him sick to his stomach. he had never meant to kiss the girl back after she tried to force herself onto him, but he knew there was no fair explanation towards you to begin with.

“babe,” he spoke up, voice trembling as you held your hand up to silently stop him from speaking up more. he noticed how your lower lip quivered and how salty tears were pricking your eyes, the fatigue taking over your body after fighting for three and a half hours.

“you kissed her back,” you spoke, a shiver running down your spine. “and i know we were never official to begin with,” you acknowledged, “but you truly made it feel that fucking way.”

it happened when he was in downtown la, where he and his brothers joined sam and colby as they were filming a brand new series about the cecil hotel whilst you were busy finishing your last year of marketing. they got drunk, went out to meet up at one of sam’s friends and one thing lead to another.

his confession back then was enough for you to silence him with a nod, grab the duffel bag he brought on his trip and push him out of your apartment. his pleas came from the other side of the door, hoping you’d let him explain what exactly happened during that night.

you didn’t wanna hear it. you didn’t wanna hear anything about chris and another girl, not when you thought he was done with fucking around when he started dating you. you figured that meeting his family, spending time with his friends and appear on his channel actually meant he wanted to be serious with you too.

“you don’t deserve any of this bullshit i put you through,” chris told you sincerely as he watched you calm down a bit, anger replacing itself with a self conscious mindset. “i’m so fucking sorry y/n, there’s no explanation for any of this. i know you don’t wanna hear it but i wanna show you what you truly mean to me. promise i’ll make it right.”

“you do know your promises currently mean nothing to me after everything, right?” you asked him while pouring yourself a glass of wine, “you could be begging on your bare knees for me and i still wouldn’t believe a single word you say.”

“i know,” chris sighed softly, running his hands across his face. “i wanna be better for you. for us. you deserve so much better- i just want you to know it didn’t mean anything to me, alright? i- you- fuck, i love y-”

“do not finish that sentence,” you warned him before taking a sip of your wine, “i don’t wanna hear it if you’re not sure.”

“who says i’m not sure?” he asked you sincerely, “and what do you want to hear?” chris asked you seriously, arms crossing in front of his chest. “i’ll literally do anything if it proofs i’m only into you. i wouldn’t have let matt drive me here trying to make you forgive me if i didn’t care about you. i fucking miss you,” he breathed out, shaking his head slowly, “i don’t have the words to say how sorry i am i messed it up. how i messed us up. and i’ll do anything to gain your trust, let you know how much you mean to me, okay?”

his words caused your heart to flutter slightly, palms a bit sweaty as you were starting to fall back into old habits. chris had a way with words and the way he sounded so sincere made you think that maybe - after all - he was speaking the truth about the entire fiasco.

you shrugged your shoulders, sighing softly, “i just hope you know you’re a fucking asshole and i hate you,” you cleared your throat, your voice coming out soft and quiet, “but i appreciate the fact you got me flowers and tried to calm me down with some wine.”

chris couldn’t help but grin at your statement as he noticed you turned your body away from him whilst sitting on the high barstool at your kitchen island. it was something you usually did when you two had an argument because you knew if you looked into his beautiful blue eyes - you’d be a goner and would forget what you guys even fought about in the beginning.

“yeah?” he asked you, the smirk clearly tinting his voice as he stepped closer to where you were sitting on the barstool, “look at me, please?”

you let out a sigh once again after taking a large sip of your wine, placing the glass back onto the marble kitchen counter. your eyes darted upwards a little, noticing how close chris had gotten in the meantime. his unruly hair, sleepy eyes and curious gaze had you hooked - you knew you were fucked and putty in his hands once again.

“i’m supposed to be so mad at you,” you mumbled as chris placed his hands onto your clothed thighs, spreading them apart so he was able to stand in between your legs.

“you’re still allowed to be,” he admitted, one hand raising upwards to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his hand cup your jaw afterwards. “as long as you know i’ll forever try to make it up to you. in every single way possible.”

“forever’s a long time y’know,” you spoke softly, playing with the hem of his oversized t-shirt as you gazed into his eyes.

he chuckled, “as long as i can spend it with you, i truly do not mind.”

[myosotisa]

Steve needing comfort angst ?

ah yes, the best. someone give this boy a hug!!!!!!

Running Late

ǁ  summary: Steve is late picking you up after work and fears the worst from you when he does show up.

ǁ  tags: hurt/comfort, established relationship. gender neutral, no pronouns, no y/n, nicknames are honey and sweetheart for reader. Steve has anxiety, description of symptoms similar to an anxiety attack, comfort for the man.

ǁ  word count: 2.1k

Your boyfriend Steve had picked you up after work every day since the two of you had started dating 6 months ago.

He insisted it wasn’t a big deal – it was on his way home from his own job and it also meant he got to see you everyday, which he always insisted was the highlight of his day. You didn’t really enjoy walking home, and you did enjoy getting to look at Steve Harrington, so it seemed like a win-win.

You didn’t really think too much into it until tonight.

After your shift ended, you did the same thing you always did: you cleaned up a bit, clocked out, and pushed your way out of the back door and into the night air. When you looked over to where Steve was normally parked, leaning on his hood with his thick arms crossed over his chest, you only saw empty space.

Shrugging it off, you stepped to the side to lean back against the brick wall and wait. He’d never been late before but there was a first time for everything. Who isn’t late sometimes?

You waited an hour.

During that time, you’d stepped inside to try to call his house (no answer) and Family Video (wasn’t there). One of your coworkers had walked past and asked if you needed a ride home, but you were still positive Steve was coming to get you, so you waved him off. He wasn’t the type to just forget. Maybe he’d lost track of time or, god forbid, he got in some sort of accident.

You’d been considering just walking home and trying to call him again later when his maroon BMW comes careening into the parking lot.

It skids until the wheels lock up a safe distance away from the building, and by extension you, and has barely come to a full stop before the driver’s side door is rocketing open and a severely distressed Steve is jumping out.

“Honey! Hey, I’m…” He rounds the car toward you in a jog, voice raspy from being out of breath. “I’m so sorry I’m late, I can’t believe – wait, how late am I?” He flips his watch toward his face, squinting behind his wire rim glasses to try to read the time in the dark before they grow wide and flick back to you. “Oh my god, I didn’t – I’m so sorry – Sweetheart, I swear…”

He isn’t even able to finish a thought before the next one starts as his breathing only seems to start coming through faster, chest rising and falling visibly with the force of his inhales. When he reaches his hands out toward you, there’s a noticeable tremble in them and that, along with the flush of red crawling up his chest, clues you in that something is really not right.

“Steve, hey,” you step into his space, bypassing his outstretched hands and placing one of yours on his jaw and the other on his chest. “It’s okay, it’s really fine.”

“No, it’s not fine,” he murmurs, the space between his eyebrows folding into a sharp pinch. The next inhale he takes is choked, getting trapped in the bulk of his chest. “I’m so, so sorry. I… There’s no excuse, really, honest to god, there isn’t, I’m so sorry.”

Growing more concerned by the second, you step closer to try to ground him with your presence. You’ve seen Steve in moments like these before, when his anxiety feels like a python constricting around his chest, but it never gets any easier to watch. Especially not as his eyes start to water at the corners and the tremble of his hands infects the rest of him in a subtle shake.

“Hey, baby,” the petname, one that normally calms him down, produces a sharp inhale this time, like it was the wrong thing to say. “Why don’t you come sit in the backseat with me? Is that okay?” Your tone is slightly placating and you wish it wasn’t, but you’re at a bit of a loss for the best way to navigate this situation. Especially since you have little to no idea of what is causing his panic.

His eyes squeeze shut as the rest of his muscles go stiff, the tears that were collecting in the corners of his eyes falling swiftly down his reddened cheeks. Though it looks like it pains him, he gives a stunted nod and allows you to lead him back over to his car. You open the rear passenger side door and look over at him – he looks so lost and scared like this, 2 things you’re not used to your boyfriend being. But you’re here for it either way and motion for him to go in first, waiting for him to settle in the middle of the back before you slide in after him and shut the door behind you both.

The seal of the door makes the ambient noise of the outside fall away, leaving only the hum of the AC coming from the still running BMW. While you had worried it would feel too cramped for him at first, he had later explained to you that he didn’t find it cramped. It felt contained, which helped his panic when it came.

Twisting in your seat, you face him with a hand on his forearm. He stares straight forward, focusing far off. “I’m gonna sit in your lap, is that okay?” He doesn’t answer, just opens his arms and adjusts his legs to give you room to hop on. With the sedan’s low ceiling, it takes a bit of maneuvering, but you manage to crawl over to straddle his lap: knees by his hips, ass on his thighs, and hands resting on his chest. Almost instinctively, his arms wrap around you and pull you in to press along the entire front of his body.

Tucking your forehead against the side of his neck, you let him adjust as needed until he stills with his arms looped over your back. Like this, you’re effectively a warm, weighted blanket for him. A living, breathing one that grounds him to reality and gives him something to focus on. You make your breathing as obvious as you can, giving him a chance to try to mimic it, and listen to his heart rate slowly begin to lower with your ear pressed to his chest.

While the tension comes and goes in the silence between you for a little while, you know the worst of it has passed when his hands start to move. From stationary, they move into a subtle stroke along your curved spine from your position. Small at first, but gradually growing in length and firmness as he calms down further. You don’t want to push it, don’t want to move too soon, don’t want to cause him more upset, so you allow yourself to melt further into him with the soft touches and wait for him to be ready.

Eventually, Steve heaves a deep breath that comes much easier and fuller than those previous. It’s accompanied by a low hum that you feel more than hear from your place against his chest. His hands skate down to rest on your hips, giving a soft squeeze, before he murmurs, “Hey honey.”

With that, you slowly withdraw from your spot and straighten as much as you can, putting a few inches between your faces. His face is ruddy and his cheeks are damp, like he spent a lot of your hidden time crying, and you offer a sad smile through the stab of pain the sight causes you. “Hi handsome,” you hum back, tension easing when his mouth tilts in a shy smile. “You come here often?”

“Too often,” he replies with a soft, self-deprecating laugh. His hands slide further – from your hips to resting on the tops of your thighs. When he speaks next it’s rough and broken at the edges. “I’m sorry.”

Quick to react, you use your hands to cup both sides of his jaw, forcing him to keep eye contact with you to try to ebb any possibility of a second attack. “No sorries, no more.” You lean in to press a soft kiss to his pouting lips, pulling away just enough to press your forehead to his. “Nothing to be sorry for. I’m not mad, I’m not upset. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

His mouth presses into a tight line, jaw muscle rolling with tension as he clenches his teeth together. “I told Lucas I would drive him home after his game at the school tonight,” he explains through a sigh, eyes closed gently. “They went into overtime and he was out in the game, not even on the bench like he normally is, and I was just so excited for him. I completely lost track of time.”

“That’s okay, Steve,” you press your forehead a bit tighter before relaxing again. “That’s great for Lucas and I’m glad you had fun watching. It happens, losing track of time. Everyone does it once in awhile.” He heaves another shaky breath, the exhale ghosting warm over the lower half of your face from the proximity. “Do you want to talk about what just happened?”

You leave it up to him with no judgement. Sometimes he will say no, he’ll talk about it when he’s ready. But you always want to give him the option to talk about it right then when it’s fresh on his mind.

“I, uh… I thought you’d be mad.” He admits quietly, sounding ashamed. “Maybe not even mad but just… Disappointed?” 

Your expression cracks, sadness filling you, but you wait to make sure you don’t end up interrupting. You’d learned your lesson that if you tried to make it too much back and forth, he would get distracted and lose his train of thought.

“I guess I was worried that being late would make you feel like you can’t trust me anymore. That I’m unreliable. And if I’m unreliable, then maybe you won’t want me to give you rides anymore. And if I don’t drive you home from work anymore then…” He pauses, the continuous train of thought reaching its conclusion that he hadn’t anticipated at the beginning. “If I stop being useful, you won’t want me around anymore.”

“Oh, baby…” You can’t help but sigh, heart twisting in pain for the boy in front of you. “I don’t spend time with you because you’re ‘useful’. I’m not dating you because of the things you do for me or something like that. I like you because you’re you, Steve Harrington.” His eyes open when you say his full name, a bit watery behind the now smudged lenses. “You’re kind and loving and brave and genuine. Not to mention, kind of a stud muffin.”

He huffs a small, wet laugh at that, bringing little smiles to both of your faces. The sadness in his eyes begins to shift, steadily growing into awe and adoration the longer he looks at you. “You could never pick me up from work again and I would still be just as stupid crazy for you as I am right now, swear to god.”

“Oh yeah?” He sniffles slightly, clearing his throat as he tries to regain some footing. “How stupid crazy are we talking here? Because I think I might be a little bit deeper,” he teases, hands squeezing the meat of your thighs as his smile slowly grows.

“How about this,” you lean in to press one more quick kiss to his pink lips before you pull back to look at him head on. “How about we agree that I’m crazy for you and you’re stupid for me and we’re even in our prospective fields?”

“Prospective fields?” His head shakes with his shoulders when he chuckles again, the warmth of his smile once again meeting his bright eyes. “You’re kind of a nerd, you know that right?”

“Yup!” You answer happily, “That’s why I’m the crazy one and you’re the stupid one.”

“Oh gee, thanks,” comes his mocking reply, eyes rolling heavily. “It’s a good thing you’re cute, because you’re trouble.”

Fingers trailing down from his jaw to rest on the front of his chest, you aren’t able to bite back your cheeky grin. “I thought you liked that about me.”

With a grin that mirrors your own, his hands make an opposite trail, going from your thighs, brushing over the flesh of your ass before gripping tight on your hips again. “I do. I like everything about you actually.”

Flustered suddenly by the flattery, you hide your sudden shyness by leaning back in and wrapping your arms around his shoulders in a hug. He returns the embrace, leaving the two of you closer to how you had been when you first got in the car.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your hair, fingers once again brushing up and down your spine. “For everything.”

-

-

-

-

[suashii]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒜𝒩𝒢𝐸𝐿ﾉ𝒟𝐸𝒱𝐼𝐿

info ⭑ suna rintaro x reader. 1.4 wc. sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ alcohol 

note ⭑ repost from last halloween :3

suna.

you can’t count the number of times you’ve heard that name in the past thirty minutes and it’s really starting to bother you. you haven’t been able to go from one room to the next without someone stopping you to bring up this suna figure. did you and suna come together? i didn’t know you and suna were so close. oh my gosh, you and suna are the cutest! every mention of the name confuses you because 1) you have no idea who suna is and 2) what the hell does he have to do with you?

it was easy to brush off at first but the more you drank and the more his name came up, it was beginning to get a little harder to quietly sit back and ignore. after all, it’s difficult to enjoy a party when every other person that passes you is asking you about some guy you don’t know. so, in an attempt to save your fun, and in the holiday spirit, you decide to take on the mystery that is suna.

you quickly learn that the task is a lot easier said than done.

firstly, you aren’t even sure of what you’re looking for. you’ve never heard of this guy’s name before tonight so it’s a safe bet to assume that you don’t know what he looks like. and on top of that, the large crowd and your tipsy state don’t make your search for the elusive man any easier.

running into suna’s friends seems to be much more likely than actually coming across the man himself. when you canvas the game room, you meet atsumu who tells you that suna is probably tucked away (by himself, on his phone) in a corner of the living room. you don’t find him there but you do find komori who suggests peeking into the bedrooms upstairs—parties have never really been suna’s thing, he tells you. the rooms that aren’t locked on the second floor are vacant and with no new guide appearing to hand over a helpful clue, the last thing you can do is check the growing line for the bathroom.

shocker—he isn’t there either.

after this wild goose chase that has yielded absolutely nothing, you’re beginning to think that everyone at this party came together to play an elaborate prank on you. suna must be a ghost or not exist at all because it’s impossible to have not found him after looking for so long. you’ve never considered yourself to be a quitter, but it’s starting to sound like a pretty tempting title as you sit at the counter in the mostly empty kitchen sipping from your solo cup.

maybe i should just give up, you think.

yes, it’ll be annoying to spend the rest of halloween as the package deal to some random dude but as soon as you come to the realization that he’s probably putting up with the same strange treatment, you think it can’t be that bad—at least there’s someone to share your suffering with. the thought is meant to be reassuring but it only makes you want to find this guy even more. though, at this point, it would take a miracle from an angel for you to run into him before the night is over.

“there’s my angel.” the unfamiliar voice (and the seemingly telepathic abilities of its host) causes you to stiffen before you regain your composure and turn around to see who’s addressing you. if the descriptions you got from atsumu and komori were accurate, this has to be suna. there are plenty of guys on campus with dark hair but you doubt any of them have eyes similar to the gray-yellow ones currently staring you down.

you’re about to ask if he’s the suna you’ve been hearing about all night when you get a look at what he’s wearing. atop his thick strands of dark hair sits a headband with red curved horns and you can just barely see a matching pointed tail sticking out from the waistband of his pants. he’s even spinning a trident lazily in his hand. it’s only then that you realize why he called you angel; you’re decked out in white with a pair of wings attached to your back and a fluffy halo hovering over your head. you click your tongue. “you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“woah,” he raises his hands in mock surrender, a smirk pulling at his lips, “this angel has quite the potty mouth.”

the furrow in your brow deepens with his remark which only makes suna’s grin widen. he has to admit, the unwarranted assumptions of his “new relationship” he’d been hearing about all night piqued his curiosity. he couldn’t have imagined the reason everyone kept approaching him with questions and their congratulations was that the two of you wore an accidental couple’s costume. suna finds the fiasco and your reaction to it hilarious. you, on the other hand, aren’t as entertained.

in fact, you’re a little irked that you wasted a chunk of your night away because someone just so happened to wear a costume that complimented yours. if you had been a little less inebriated, you would have apologized for your uncalled-for outburst and tried to enjoy the rest of the party but the swimming feeling in your head brought on by the punch you’ve had a little too much of has other plans.

you swallow down the remaining contents of your cup, licking your lips to collect the sticky liquid that lingers. your eyes find suna’s before you ask him, “where have you been? i was starting to think you weren’t real.”

“around,” he replies with a shrug and then smiles upon seeing the way your lips part in annoyance at his answer—or lack-there-of. he clears his throat to keep the laugh bubbling up from spilling out. there’s a wobbly smile plastered on his face as he continues, “it was kinda funny, watching you roam around looking for me.”

you’re beginning to question whether or not the horns and tail attached to suna really are fake because he truly is devious. “you chose a fitting costume.”

“thank you,” he says despite your statement not being a compliment. he purses his lips in deep thought, spinning the triton in his hand. “you’re not really living up to your angelic image, though. are you sure you dressed appropriately?”

that, you can’t help but laugh at. in all honestly, you think that this exchange would have been a lot more pleasant on your end if you had run into suna earlier—before you started drinking, before people made the connection that you two were matching, before he had time to play that game of cat and mouse with you.

you have a feeling you might regret this decision tomorrow when you’re sober, but after putting so much time and effort into finding him, it wouldn’t make sense not to give suna a chance to get to know you. for the first time since you’ve seen him, you smile at suna. “stick around and you’ll find out.”

hihi~ manon here :3 ! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

[forpiratereasons]

okayyy things i loved about ofmd s2 today's edition is!! FRENCHIE. what a guy. first off, joel fry, i'm free on thursdays. second, love that he gets promoted to first mate, tries to decline, & IMMEDIATELY disobeys his mad new boss to try and help izzy. he reaches out to izzy a lot tbh and of course frenchie and jim together are the litmus test for how we're meant to feel about izzy.

but frenchie is affectionate with izzy! holds izzy's hand in e1 while fang hugs him, leans against his leg in e3 while they're in zheng's jail, goes back for him in e8 when ed is carrying him forward. i think he grows up a bit esp in the first few episodes & helps his crew at the end (go frenchie!), setting him up to the captaincy at the end.

now that i look back over the series with an eye on frenchie i think they do lay a groundwork for his captaincy - not only does he become ed's first mate but he also has a functioning coping mechanism (a lot has been made of the compartmentalization as frenchie not handling shit but compartmentalization is a legit mechanism and i think once the crew is all back together frenchie gets his shit together pretty fast so u know just bc we don't see frenchie having appropriate outlets doesn't mean he doesn't have any) that would allow frenchie to take a step back and make decisions without necessarily reacting from fear. this is what enables him to fend for izzy!! he can put aside the fear of ed and ask himself, what is the right thing to do? take care of the crew.

other things that slid past me in the first few watches but which i think were more significant than i realized:

in ep 3, when the revenge and the red flag meet, the crew looks to frenchie to answer stede's questions about ed.

auntie talks frenchie (authority) and fang (soft, cultural connection - this is a deft bit of manipulation that totally works btw) aboard the revenge.

frenchie delivers the verdict against ed exiling him from the ship in ep 4 - it can't come from stede, because stede is compromised where ed is concerned, and so instead frenchie is their spokesperson.

we get one final clue as to frenchie's authority and respect among the crew in the post-ep scene of ep 8, where frenchie slips out of the jail - yeah, it's partially because he's thin enough to fit through the bars, but other folks who could fit refuse. he gets the courage up and does it, and it works! he frees the crew!

so you know, i guess i didn't instantly clock frenchie as captain in the final shots of the revenge, but it also didn't ping me as weird that he was giving orders. he's grown a lot over this series. notably, oluwande doesn't take on this sort of active role this series - his arc is a little different with zheng and jim now, his priorities are changing, and he doesn't want to captain the revenge, he wants to follow zheng. just because olu would have been the obvious choice in s1e10 doesn't mean things can't change! olu didn't want to be captain then, he doesn't want to be captain now. that's okay!! the crew have found another leader amongst themselves!!

i'm really excited to see what kind of funky cool badass jacket-wearing captain he'll make in s3!!!

go frenchie!!

[tinyidle]

Need More - CJH

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: in which you and your boyfriend engage in some casual sex during your chuseok vacation time

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴/𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: jongho x fem!reader

𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: slice of life, slight fluff, smut

𝘈𝘜/𝘛𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰: established relationship, free use

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1.3k

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: free use, consensual perversion, implied sensual touches, kisses, implied groping, mutual masturbation, implied fellatios, cunnilingus, thigh fucking, slightly casual sex (they are both protected, like you should) fiction ofc ofc

𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: M for mature, mdni ofc

𝘈/𝘕: i was debating on whether my next atz fic should be a request i got a long time go or this one thought ive had for a while. because it's jongho, and i haven't written about him yet this year, ill do this first. my inspo was that ISFP video he made. 4th submission to @wonderlandnet. taglist person @strayteezsimp.

it's day 3 of vacationing, and jongho's decided to take a break from all those adventures he's had the past couple days while out on chuseok leave. this meant going to sleep for a good while, and then doing whatever he wanted. with you of course.

by the time the second day rolled around, you asked to stick around a bit at night after he went out, and of course jongho obliged. he loved when you'd come to his dorm to simply hang out, especially when that would seldom happened to each of your busy schedules. despite you doing your own things during the day, the night just seemed like a perfect time to check and spend some time with your boyfriend.

on this day, the only difference was that you stayed in the night before, allowing you and jongho to sleep in together. he woke up and lazily smiled while seeing you sounding snoozing in front of him. carefully stroking your hair, you wake up and smile back at him.

"hey jonghie," you greet him.

jongho trails his hand from your head to your warm cheek, "hey, baby."

you sigh in content as he continues to caress your face. "jongho?" he hums. "i want you to use me all day today."

his hand froze. "you sure, sweetie? i dont want to make you uncomfortable." jongho rested his hand on your cheek while staring into the warmth of your eyes as he got slightly excited down there.

you sleepily shake your head, "i know you won't do anything to hurt me, jongho. if anything just double-check if you think im not in the mood, okay?"

he hesitated, realizing you mean this. then he smiled again, nodding his head as he happily obliged. "anything for you, sweetie," he answered, moving forward to give the cheek he was touching a soft kiss before you both dozed off again.

--

waking up two hours later, you both woke up and started your day like normal. it was 10 am- not too late, but later than normal for you. as you were getting in the shower, you felt the heavy presence of your boyfriend before he embraced you in his arms. you starting to laugh once you felt the wet and swinging of his length on your thigh.

"how are you already horny?" you asked, hand going behind you to ease the tension he had in between his legs.

jongho groaned as you stroked him steadily. "i can never get enough of you, love." his hand reached over to allow the water to run and heat up, before expertly slotting itself where you were currently drenched. you gasped, making him chuckle. "i especially cant enough of your noises when i barely touch you."

you wanted to retort, but all that came out were moans of satisfaction and want for him to keep going. you used your other hand to turn the shower head on to full blast while your occupied hand was gathering more and more precum from your boyfriend. he in response had three thick fingers sliding in and out of you, holding your waist in order to keep your balance.

you squealed when the middle of his fingers hit your g spot. "fuck, jongho im gonna cum," you warned. to give a clue as to how close you were, you swiped the slit of his tip multiple times- a trick you learned when you wanted him to release.

it worked, as the man groaned and targeted you spot even more. you whined louder as his panting grew even more shallow. with a low and almost desperate voice, he commanded, "cum for me, baby."

you instantly lost control and gave in to your need for orgasm. jongho came soon after as you felt his seed dripping down your leg. he sighed as his fingers slowed down, and you soon let go of his slightly softer cock.

he needed more of you later, for sure.

--

lunchtime came and went, and you both had local takeout from a lovely restaurant from nearby. after 2, when everything was supposed to be digested, you decided to catch up on some TV shows you missed from being busy at work all the time. at first you sat on he couch, but then felt the need to get a simple snack.

in the middle of getting your treat, you decided to continue the current episode of what you were watching on the kitchen area. not only were you so comfortable leaning over and standing to look down at your phone that you forgot what you were in there for, you were so distracted that it took a wet muscle to knock you out of your episode-filled daze.

you gasped as you held onto the edge of the countertop. "jongho!" you wanted to sound like you were reprimanding him, but his tongue on your clit was keeping you from speaking. "ss-shit," you could only say, arms shaking as your hips had a mind of its own onto his more-than-ready mouth.

"mmmh," the man moaned, right into your aching center. jongho help your hips to his face, circling his tongue on your hole before teasingly pushing it in, causing you to snap. you came with a soft sob, hips jerking ever so often when your boyfriend would tantalizingly, lick at your sensitive clit.

you help him out with a blowjob, and he thanked you for it as you swallowed him clean. but he needed more of you again.

--

you both had to go out and catch up with friends for a group outing. once that was done and you two headed home, jongho ripped your clothes off and proceeded to fuck your brains out. now you were truly spent, but jongho needed more.

an hour into you being knocked out from having arguably one of the best nights of your life, you were woken up by kisses to your shoulder and fondling of your breasts. you were turned on, no doubt, but you nether regions couldn't take anymore. breathing in enough air to whisper, you said, "baby, i cant go anymore. my pussy's too spent."

sensing the respectful disappoint in him, you were going to turn around and give him another blowjob as a 'truce', until you heard him, say, "let me fuck your thighs."

this was new. how does he even know it'd be something he'd like? nonetheless, you agreed. "okay. just dont slip it in unless i get desperate, okay?" you heard a hum of understanding, prompting you to open up your legs for him.

the friction was incredible. despite you widening your legs a good bit to allow himself to slot, somehow was still a tight fit. in between your thighs. "oh my fucking-" jongho stuttered as you shuddered from how your boyfriend's thick girth was prompting you to open your thighs some more. somehow wanting to still sleep, you tried clenching your legs in and hope the constant ooze of jongho's cock would slick you up. unsurprisingly it wasn't just his juices that would make you slippery, as your slick was making your thighs a mess.

you panted and whined as the head of boyfriend's cock repeatedly nudged unto your clit, burning in the most pleasurable way. you couldn't take it anymore. "jjong, please cum in me. i need you again."

swallowing down the bit of pride that was trying to bubble up in his throat, jongho opened your leg wide before pushing his head in your sopping cunt. making you hiss and groan from the stretch you could never get tired of. "you can't get over me, neither," he replied before thrusting a couple more times, shooting himself deep inside of you for the last time tonight. he returned the favor by rubbing your clit while he was still inside until you cam hard around him, milking him for all he's worth.

[lilislegacy]

an analysis: piper calling percy unimpressive

(warning: i wrote this at 1 am)

so basically

remember how we all despised piper mclean when she had the audacity to call our beloved percy “unimpressive” and we all lost our shit on the inside a little bit?

i truly don’t think she meant it in the way we think she did. i think we’re all just defensive of our boy.

piper clearly states that she is comparing percy to jason. first of all, jason is her boyfriend, so of course she’s biased. second of all, hera was manipulating piper to be obsessed with jason. so other guys and girls are automatically unimpressive to her.

and here’s the big thing: piper does not call him unattractive. she does not call him ugly. she simply says he’s not her type. piper is clearly attracted to the “good boy” look. jason is literally your all-american boy. he’s tall with light skin, a sturdy build, neat blonde hair, and blue eyes. part of why annabeth doesn’t trust him is because she is unsettled by his “perfect” appearance. jason is also obedient and well-mannered. he’s your standard good boy.

and the fact of the matter is: percy looks like a “bad boy”. and often, he acts like one too. him and jason are contrasts of each other. a symbolic representation of this: their features. percy has a darker complexion, messy black hair, unique green eyes, and a “sarcastic troublemaker smile.” he’s muscular, but in a leaner and more trim way. he’s tall, but he’s not a towering muscleman by any means. not that jason is either, but don’t forget, percy is a whole one. inch. (GASP) shorter than jason (which to me isn’t even noticeable, so her pointing it out as a flaw just proves that she’s so incredibly biased towards jason.) their other big contrasting feature: their personalities. jason is respectful and well-mannered. very obedient and under control. percy, however, makes jokes during inappropriate moments, talks back to people of power and authority, gets angry quickly, and loses control easily. i mean, literally right after she says this, percy starts insulting the roman god Bacchus and rapidly escalates a situation because of his natural instinct to be disobedient. piper is horrified by him doing this, especially because jason would never. does it make US all love percy very much? yes. but piper isn’t us.

THAT SAID, even she can’t actually call him unattractive. she even went as far to state that she can see why annabeth likes him, which means even her magically-obsessed-with-jason brain can still recognize his attractiveness and see why girls find him appealing. she calls him “cute in a scruffy way,” meaning she thinks that he’s got a disheveled attractiveness to him. she also once said that his pleading eyes are like a cute baby seal’s - even she can’t deny that his eyes are wonderful. so even though piper calls him unimpressive, i think rick put in a lot of clues here showing us that she acknowledges him as a conventionally attractive person, even if she’s not personally attracted to him.

let’s sum it up, shall we?

what does it say about percy? absolutely nothing. piper calling percy unimpressive is an inaccurate and unreliable source when it comes to analyzing percy’s physical appearance, especially if you don’t consider the context. this was rick’s way of showing piper’s clear preference towards jason, just like annabeth has a clear preference towards percy. and even though she said this, rick also made her give us several hints that percy is handsome, just not in a way she’s inclined towards. rick wanted love triangles to be completely out of the question with these 4. he wanted to make it very clear that annabeth had no interest in jason, and that piper had no interest in percy. so since piper is so drawn towards jason, percy had to be very different from him in her eyes.

jason is your a superman, percy is your batman

jason is your captain america, percy is your iron man. some even say spider man.

so put yourself in piper’s shoes: after hearing percy jackson’s name non-stop for 6 months, hearing him compared to jason, hearing of all his accomplishments and how heroic he is - i mean, the guy was literally honored on olympus and offered godhood - she was expecting a stereotypical good-boy hero. a hercules. a superman. your standard muscular blinding-white-teeth-smile hunk. the conventional, well-mannered good boy. and instead she got a wild and untamed, trouble-making bad boy. percy has an edge to him. he’s intimidating and unpredictable. he’s sarcastic and witty. he just looks like he’s up to no good. she wasn’t expecting any of that. that’s not what we’re taught a hero is supposed to be like or look like.

jason is appealing in a “he’d be a respectable and sturdy husband” way.

percy is appealing in a “he’s gonna fuck up my life but i so badly want him to” kind of way. (even though once you get to know him, you see he’s literally the world’s best boyfriend. piper even gets jealous of how loving he is towards annabeth.)

she had this exact idea of what he would be, and he wasn’t that. hence her calling him “unimpressive.” but it says nothing about his attractiveness.

i rest my case, your honor.

thank you for coming to my ted talk

disclaimer: i am not saying percy is actually a bad boy or a bad guy. he is a sweetheart. he has the biggest heart ever. he’s a cute little cinnamon roll. i am simply talking of first impressions from outsiders, and how he appears if you don’t know him.

[wandixx]

Ghost of fries and Hero of cookies

All work words count: 14 593

Words in this part: 2 224

Summary of whole work: Duke wasn't expecting to wake up from his quick rooftop nap to some meta kid with fries. He also wasn't expecting kid to stay Or Danny asked Dani to stay safe while she was in Gotham. Where would she be safer than under the wing of local hero? And he looked like he needed bad day combo anyway

This part summary: First meeting and training discussions Beta read by @audhumla-sailor though English is second language for both of us, so proceed with this in mind. I also know all of the charaters through fics alone, so probably ooc. Stay catious if it's something you don't like

Duke was running out of fumes to run on. Last few days would be exhausting if it was just vigilante or just civilian stuff but no, he had to have it both. Because of Arkham break out he had been called in three nights in a row, not for a whole patrol but he couldn't exactly sleep it of during the day like others did, especially not in a week when every teacher decided they need to have test or quiz or what not. Naps meant he wasn't as sleep deprived as he could be but he needed far more. But he couldn't because crime in Gotham never sleeps so he had normal patrol to finish and there were about two ours left.

Would something bad happen if he just stopped for a moment and laid on a roof? Ten up to fifteen minutes. It was a slow day too...

Yeah, no, he deserved a moment to rest and if something disastrous was to happen in the meantime he would shame other Bats for not giving him enough time to sleep.

It certainly said something that he found gravel covering this roof to be quite comfortable. He set a timer for ten minutes and let himself close his eyes.

When loud screech of timer jolted him awake, he was suddenly fully aware that he wasn't alone anymore. He sat up a little too quickly.

"Oh, you're awake," white haired girl around Damian's age chimed, sitting cross legged just few feets away from him. She wore something that could only be described as an unholy mix of lab safety hazmat and skintight workout jumpsuit, white and black. When had Gotham gotten a new vigilante? "Good, I just returned from snack hunt," she added, gesturing at a big textile bag lying next to her. Duke didn't have enough brainpower to do anything more than ask.

"What?"

Girl shrugged, take out from BatBurger in her hand.

"You look like you have a bad day if not few days, so I've got you my cousin's bad day combo or at least closest thing I could. BatBurger burger isn't as good as NastyBurger but you certainly have better fries," as she spoke, second take out bag, 1 quart bottle of energy drink, juice bottle of same size and pack of convenience store brownies joined greasy paper bag sealed with a sticker.

"Is your cousin a speedster?" Excuse Duke, it was a totally valid question, he saw with his bare eyes both Wally West and Bart Allen when they visited Manor. Noone else would be able to stomach the amount of food they inhaled during their stays.

"Nah, we're not that fast or that hungry. Though I think I may get closer to speed of sound," So, clearly a meta if white hair and weir aura that let his eyes rest weren't enough indication "My cousin when he has bad few days he often forgets to eat so this combo has to help with there too. But I'll steal your fries of course."

Duke was not going to look gift horse in teeth, so he grabbed one bag and tore it open. There was classic combo with bigger fries and NightWings inside.

"Thank you..." he trailed off, hoping that girl would take a clue and introduce herself but she didn't. She just drowned her fries in ketchup and started munching. She had her own juice.

"My cousin always said that each part of this combo has different purpose," she explained instead, slightly muffled because of fries in her mouth, "This" she gestured towards fast food meal "is to sooth your stomach. This "she tapped energy drink "is to sooth your brain and kick it back online. This "she raised bottle of juice, "is to sooth your taste buds because energy drinks are war crime against them and this "she nudged brownies "is to sooth your heart because Ancients damn it, this day is awful and you deserve it. At least that's what he told me when I had day bad enough to deserve that," she shrugged, licking ketchup of her finger. Suddenly she froze "You aren't allergic, are you?

"No, I'm not," he confessed bewildered.

"Good"

For a long moment they sat in silence, devouring food the little girl brought. Duke distantly wondered if this was how night shift spent their snack breaks. It felt nice.

He was finishing his part of brownies when girl spoke up again.

"Do you feel better now?"

"Yeah" he was a little surprised to realize that it was true. He'll have to note down what she put in this 'bad day combo'. "Thank you"

"Don't mention it," she shrugged with general gesture of dismissal, "You're one of my cousin's favorite heroes because you're vaguely his age and handle Gotham alone during the day and I quote, "she did honest to God air quotes at that" 'As only hero in Amity-' which is a lie by the way, Val is doing great and even if he suddenly got problem with how she feels about his alter ego, he still has Sam and Tuck even if they're usually more of moral support. And I helped when I visited, so no, he isn't only one. Anyway as he said 'As only hero in Amity, my heart goes out for anyone who deals with this type of bullshit so Dani if you absolutely have to prank heroes, leave them out of it, especially Signal, he can't be older than Jazz, he doesn't need any more mess to handle.' All aliens and lanterns are also off limits because he is a space nerd. But you aren't space related so I'm like 80% percent sure he has celebrity crush on you," she slurped more juice, unbothered.

Duke was thankful he wasn't swallowing anything because for sure she would choke. He took split second to consider addressing... this whole situation and choose not to. He was not ready to be anyone's celebrity crush.

"Your name is Danny?" he asked instead.

"Dani" she corrected" with an I"

"Ok. It's nice to meet you Dani-with-an-I," She giggled, nodding her head slightly.

"It's nice to meet you too Signal"

Duke stood up, stretching a little. Dani joined him after hastily putting all the trash in her bag. She was a little higher than expected.

"I have to get back to my patrol"

"Cool," she drifted back a bit, making him realize that she was floating a few inches above the ground. She fixed her bag on her arm.

"Hey, can I hang out a little bit more? My cousin will go green out of jealousy when I tell him," she added with a mischievous smirk but Duke could tell there was more to it. He took a moment to consider it, which apparently made girl nervous "I can be invisible the whole time, like before," she offered, disappearing in the meantime. He could still tell where she was, because of her heat signature and other waves she excluded but for regular people she would be no different than surrounding air.

"Yeah, you can hang around and you don't have to be invisible. Just don't get in my way when I have to actually do some fighting."

She popped back to visible spectrum and pouted like Damian whenever he got benched.

"I can fight, y'know? I stopped mugging on a snack run."

It was ten god damn minutes, how could she get so much food and stop mugging in such a short time?!

Oh, right, superspeed. Still, impressive.

"I haven't seen it-" he started, channeling all Dick-trying-to-wrangle-Damian-into-socially-acceptable-activity energy he could muster "-so I don't know how you fight or even what powers do you have. If we tried to fight together we would trip over each other" It was a bare faced lie, Bat training made sure of that but he knew for fact that if he said anything else, the girl would be mad and probably did her own thing.

Was that what Bruce thought about all of them?

Oh no.

Dani still looked displeased but after a moment of consideration she nodded with a defeated sigh.

Suddenly she straightened like she got struck by lightning and whipped around.

"Wha-"

She just shushed, raising finger to her mouth. Duke did indeed quietened.

"I have enhanced hearing," she whispered "There is a mugging somewhere this way."

"Let's go then," he shot his grapple, waving his other hand at Dani to come with him before he jumped off the roof. He heard the girl giggle as she flew right after him.

"After this you'll show me the coolest gargoyles, okay? Sam asked for photos"

"Okay"

It seemed that the end of this patrol wouldn't be as bad as the start was. Hopefully.

And afterwards he was going to lock himself in his room until sky falls down or he was well rested.

Yeah, that was a good plan.

********

"Hey kid," Signal started, dropping from fire escape to cuff weirdo in clown mask who Dani just fought. He did it deliberately slowly to show her how to do it like he always did. She choose to not be to annoyed at being called kid again and noted to herself to come up with good codename later. All her previous ideas apparently weren't cutting it and she couldn't keep going by Dani because reasons.

"Yes?"

"Who gave you a combat training?" he asked getting up from a crouch and gesturing towards roof. So it's going to be longer talk, okay.

"My cousin," well, Flashes in Central taught her some stuff but it was more rescue and reassure type of deal not punch and kick, Sam tried to get her through basics of psychological warfare in activism, Tucker sweared he would teach her some programming and hacking but never got around to it, Jazz did some emotional training and Val offered to teach her Red Huntress skills when she got back, but yeah, all in all, Danny was the one to show her how to punch people. Even though it was more of 'shit we have to fight, observe maybe, idk' most of the time. She picked some tricks from Vlad too now that she thought about it, not that she planned to give him any credit for it, like, ever. "Why?"

"I have a bone to pick with him," vigilante announced, melting with the shadows. Dani sped as much as she could to beat him to the roof. She was competitive spirit like that.

Unfortunately he was first. She made another note to herself (she was so going to forget them in next five to ten minutes) to train her speed a bit more. She got tips from the guy with the title of The Fastest Man Alive for crying out loud, she shouldn't loose with the person who technically doesn't even have superspeed!

Signal sat cross legged on the gravel and tossed her a healthy granola bar. He kept doing it for some reason.

"I'm sorry to break it to you, but almost everything in your fighting technique is horrible. Your cousin did shitty job as a teacher" he started in warm slightly teasing tone. Dani felt attacked anyway.

"It's not like he has any sort of training either," she started, trying to sound nonchalant, rolling her eyes. "Cut him some slack," She bit a snack in attempt to cover her furry. It had chocolate and raspberries, was quite tasty and she was kinda hungry anyway. She wasn't sure she wanted to know how Signal knew it though "Everything he learned is from the trial and error by crashing through a few walls. Quite hard to care about 'technique'. I at least got his mistakes to learn from so don't you dare to speak about him like that!" alright, she lost it, she can admit it. But, Signal might be cool and Danny may or may not like him (she hoped he didn't, Val was much better option) but Gotham's hero had no right to say anything bad about her template. He didn't know anything. He didn't understand.

Signal looked like he was going to say something so she put her ghostly vocal cords to use and growled.

Don't-harm-family/will-fight/ protect-mine/don't-you-dare

She didn't stop to consider how unlikely it was for him to understand her. She crossed her hands on her chest, glaring.

Turned out, growl was enough of the warning. He carefully picked his next words.

"Sorry, it's not the way I should've phrase it," he started, his mouth doing the thing it did when people were embarrassed with themselves but in an uncomfortable, a bit angry way. He understood his mistake, good. She calmed her glare a bit. "I wasn't aware of you circumstances. If you want, I can show you some tricks, Batman is very throughout with his training"

"No, thank you, I'm good" she was still mad. So mad. And she was not pouting.

"Of course you're good but you can be better, more efficient."

"No." Whatever Signal would propose to her, she wouldn't agree. He said mean things about Danny not even a minute before. She couldn't let him have it on a principle!

"I'll give you a cookie after every training," he pleaded "The homemade, tasty one"

Well, that changed things. A lot of things.

"Yes please!"

He apologized anyway.

********************

Second part

I know democratic winner in poll for now is "publish all at once" and believe me, I respect democracy, especially now that I finally have rights to do things, but Tumblr wouldn't let me. Too long or something. So, it'll be in parts, sorry guys. I'll try to post all of the parts this weekend though (or one each day, I'll see).

Yes, I didn't have a name for this fic until five minutes ago, how did you know? It's quite alright though, I think. If you have better idea I may reconsider

[madamechrissy]

Take Me Home Tonight

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Gojo is 28-29 here, reader is like 22 or 23. Nothing too crazy. But is Professor/teacher forbidden type love. Some fingering and teasing and dirty talk this chap

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 8,033 

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ After passing your LSATs, your friends take you out to unwind. You never go out, so you are awkwardly agree, and you end up in the arms of a super hot man named Satoru. You end up screaming Satoru's name as he drops down on his knees before you, only to lose him in the club. All you have is his first name.

Two months later, in your Criminal Law class, your heart stops. Your teacher? Professor Gojo. Or as you soon call him, Professor Dickhead. You can't fuck up your law school, and he won't fuck up his career, not just because he makes you wet in class, no, he's a dick. Right?

That pout and blue eyes don't wreck you, right?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

You have no clue how you have survived these past couple of weeks, of watching Satoru… or Professor Dickhead… walk through the halls, like he owned them, hands in his pockets, dressed constantly like a million bucks. Of him lecturing your class, his eyes catching yours just so. Of his little comments, as he challenged you constantly in every class.

You mull over your day in class as you thumb through a philosophy book in the library.

"Let's consider another scenario.” He looks at you, and you sigh when he calls your name, he frequently gives you the hardest questions.

“Yes, Professor Gojo?” Professor Dickhead.

“Say you are a defense attorney representing a client accused of murder. The evidence against your client is overwhelming, and you even think that they may truly be guilty. However, your client confesses to you that they are innocent, and that the real killer is someone else who will strike again if they are convicted. What do you do?"

The question hangs in the air like a storm cloud, pressing down on you. You can feel the blood rushing to your face, your heart racing in your chest. The class is silent, taking pity on you, as they usually did, since Gojo loved to throw advanced moral dilemmas your way.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "I would have to do everything in my power to find the real killer, Professor Gojo. I would gather as much evidence as possible and investigate every lead, no matter how small. Even if it meant risking my client, I would not give up until justice was served."

There's a murmur of agreement from some of the students, but you can also sense the unease in the air. You can feel Professor Gojo's icy blue gaze burning into you, and you know that he's not just evaluating your answer, but he’s evaluating you , looking down your face, your lips, briefly at your chest, heating you up with every second he stands there.

"An admirable answer, I suppose." He says finally, voice dripping with sarcasm. You’re bright fucking red on your cheeks and ears now. "But let's consider the consequences of that. If you were to go down this path, you might be seen as an obstructive defense attorney, who is so obsessed with the truth she hurts her client.”

You gulp, hating the way he leans on your desk, how he casually destroys your psyche. “With all due respect Professor Gojo, I disagree.”

He raises a brow, smirking, looking so handsome you wanna smack him. There had been nothing but shared looks for two weeks, you all had crossed no lines, but every move of his makes you ache, so you despise him more. “Oh? You disagree, do you? Explain, please.”

“What sort of attorney would I be if I don’t seek the truth?”

“A shit one for defense. You’re thinking about prosecution.” His voice is mocking, as he leans forward on your desk now. “Even so, what if despite your best efforts, you were unable to find the real killer? Your client's fate rests solely on your shoulders."

You feel a knot forming in your stomach. The weight of his words is crushing, and you can't help but wonder if you've made the right choice, being here, you begin to feel those hits of doubt. Professor Gojo's gaze pierces you like a knife, making you feel exposed.

You take a deep breath and steel yourself. "My responsibility as their lawyer is to provide them with the best possible advice and guidance of course, while also upholding my own personal values. I will not put those aside."

The classroom is silent as your words hang in the air. You can feel the tension building, as if everyone is holding their breath, waiting to see how this will play out. You glance over at Professor Gojo, and his expression is unreadable, as his lips then turn up, into a little smirk, shocking you.

“You stand by your convictions, even if it fucks you over? Fucks over your entire career?” His voice raises a bit, that silken timbre hitting hard. You nod, and the bell thankfully rings. “We’ll touch more on that next week.”

The class files out, and so many people go up to him, to his desk, to ask questions or to talk, you slip out quickly, heart fucking racing. He seemed to delight in putting you on the spot, in pushing his experience and authority on you. It was overwhelming. But in a weird way, it gives you some fucking insane thrill, one you question…

***

You peek at your phone, Maki is inviting you to a party tonight. Though at the same school, you all don’t see each other much, in different dorms and different classes. You answer with an ambiguous maybe, sighing when you think of the last time you went out… when that infuriating man made you cum so fucking hard you throb thinking of it.

Fucking Gojo.

You thumb through the book, as a pretty girl comes in, wearing a gorgeous red business suit. She smiles at you, her hair is a dark brown with bangs that gently frame her face, she has a little scar on her cheek that seems to only make her more captivating. She walks to you, smiling.

“Heard Professor Gojo is giving you a hard time, huh?” You flush at that, looking down a bit. “I’m Professor Geto’s teaching assistant. Utahime.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Ms. Utahime. I've seen you around.” You stand and shake her hand, which has a surprisingly strong grip.

“Of course. I've been getting started at this new position. But Gojo? He’s a shithead.” You snort at that, and she grins. “He’s a damn good lawyer, and teacher, but he pushes hard. He pushed me very hard, I think I contemplated killing him and being my own attorney.”

You burst out laughing then, you instantly like her. “He’s a challenging professor, which I enjoy, but he certainly is-”

“Fucking gorgeous? I know ladies, you don’t have to go on about it.” Gojo walks in, his Gucci shades on, thankfully covering those ridiculous eyes of his, and his hair is casually falling over his forehead. Utahime scowls at him.

“You fucking wish, Gojo.” He sticks his tongue out at her, she flips him off, and you can’t stop your giggle.

“Something funny, Miss Brat?” He demands, staring at you, and Utahime shoves at him now. He runs around the empty library as she smacks at him.

“Gojo, do not even!”

“What Hime, jealous? Ouch!” She thwacks him good then, and you’re enamored how wild these ‘professionals’ are. In a way it’s kinda fucking awesome.

“Her name isn’t Miss Brat . Get your shit together, god.”

“You’re still sad I didn’t fuck you that night, hmm? After all these years! Ow, shit that hurts! That’ll leave a fucking mark!”

“I never wanted to fuck you, dickhead. Ugh. Anyway, let me know if you need anything…” She says your name, turning from a vicious little thing to a sweetheart, you smile at her, and Gojo scowls.

“I will, I really appreciate that! I’ll see you in class tomorrow?”

“Absolutely. Bye hunny.” She waves, scowling at Gojo as she shoves past him, and he huffs.

“Bye Hime!” She flips him off again, storming out, and you’re in a fit of giggles now, until his gaze catches you, pushing down those round shades just so. “Well, Miss Brat, whatchya reading hmm?”

He snatches the book from your hands, and you glare up at him, standing up and trying to grab it, but fucker was way too tall, you end up hopping up as he grins like some psycho, holding it out of your reach. You huff and he peers up at it, pursing those pretty glossy lips of his.

“Hmm… didn’t take you for an Aristotle girl.” He muses, and you sigh, sitting back down, crossing your arms and glaring up at him.

“What does that even mean?” You demand, and he pulls a chair, spinning it and straddling it, resting his arms on the back casually. You gulp, thinking how fucking hot he looks, shoving that down hard.

“Figured you’d like Plato.  Aristotle is a bit too logical for someone as feisty as you.” He says, flipping through the pages, his eyes scanning over it.

“I can be logical…” He smirks at that. You roll your eyes. “What are you doing here anyway?” You ask, and he smirks, placing the book down in front of you, leaning across with those stupid long arms. All of him was stupid long… 

Fuck.

“Blushing? From me just near you?” He taunts, leaning closer, you take a shaky breath, inhaling that likely expensive cologne he wore that made him even more delectable to you.

Fuck Fuck.

“No, it's just warm in here.” He laughs at your lie, and you pick the book back up, flipping to the page you were on and trying to ignore him.

“Hmm, I have an idea, Miss Brat.”

“That’s not my name, Professor Dickhead. What’s the idea?” Your eyes narrow as he slides off his shades, those glittering eyes boring into your face.

“Write a ten page essay on this book.” He taps the philosophy book you’re reading, you frown at that.

“I have enough work to do. Why extra, on philosophy?”

“Because you’ll get a reward for it. Something no one gets as a first semester, let alone a first year. What ya think?” You bite your lip a bit, taking a shaky little breath. “You’re tempted, hmm?”

“What reward?” Your eyes narrow, and he throws back his head with laughter, making you flush more.

“Not anything like that, you’re such a pervy little brat.” You scowl, standing then and gathering your books. He grips your wrist, your throat goes dry at the touch, looking down at him and his fucking grin. “Stop, you haven’t even heard me out.”

You exhale, yanking your arm back, hating what every little brush of his skin did to your body. “Go ahead.”

“I’ll take you on a field trip.” He says with a grin, you roll your eyes, snorting, before laughing hard. He glares, yanking your wrist again. “Excuse me, Miss Brat, I am your professor. You’re so disrespectful.”

“Sorry. A field trip? To where, the Zoo, Sir?” You keep giggling, and he stands, shutting them up when he’s just an inch from you with that hard body. You exhale, biting your lip again, and he gently puts his thumb to your lip, easing it from out of your teeth, shooting desire hard through your entire body.

“I wish corporal punishment was still a thing. I’d whip the fuck out of you.” He glares, and you don’t laugh then, because the thought of Gojo bending you over his desk smacking you? Yeah that did insane things…

“Sorry, Mr. Gojo.” You manage, sighing and looking up at him, clutching your books nervously to your chest. “Go ahead.”

“I’ll bring you to the case I’m working on, it’s a big one-”

“The fucking case where where the politician’s son is accused of killing that prostitute?” You interrupt, your eyes wide, he smirks.

“You would know what case I'm in. Stalker .”

You roll your eyes. “Not at all… but of course I know about it. It’s all over the news and everything. I heavily follow cases. How the fuck can I get on that? Like would the school let me?”

“Easy, write the essay. Impress me, and I’ll get the approval for it. You’re a star student already, it should be easy for you to come along. Maybe it’ll help you decide on a major, seeing the real world of law, hmm?” He suggests, and you nod eagerly. “Knew you’d be in for it. One more condition.”

“What, anything!” He smirks at your enthusiasm, and you brush your hair back nervously.

“I need it done by tomorrow. And you’ll read it out to me.” You frown at that, brows knitting, as you think of the work you’re swamped with. “If you can read it proficiently, under pressure, I’ll take you.”

“Under pressure?” You sigh when he smirks again. “Fuck… I mean… yeah, I’ll do it. I can.”

“Exactly what I thought.” He brushes the backs of his fingers against your cheek, and you tense, eyes locking on his lips. “You’re wearing makeup.”

“Um… yeah, I do a lot.”

“Not face makeup. Usually just your eyes.” You blink at that, wishing you could make your heart stop racing inside your chest.

“Ah… I mean, maybe that’s true. I looked a little pale so I threw on some bronzer.”

“Hmm. You don’t need it.” He backs away now, hands in his pockets, and you can just barely breathe now. How did he notice things like that? “All right, I’ll see you in my office at five pm sharp with it.”

You fidget, peeking at your watch. You had less than twenty hours and that was with no sleep. “I will be there with it.”

“All right Miss Brat, hop to it.” He winks at you as he walks out, so casually, and you sink back down into the chair, fucking breathless. The scariest shit? You were just as excited to spend time with Satoru as you were to see this court case, what the fuck did that say about you?

You pull out your laptop, getting to work, the library isn’t busy at this time, so you can focus on the essay without distraction. As you write, you can’t help but think of Satoru, his touch, his smell, his voice. You shake your head, focusing on the words in front of you, you could do this, you could totally knock out a ten page essay for a chance at this.

***

The next day you’re fucking drained, going through each lecture exhausted, to the point Professor Geto stopped you after class, concerned look on his handsome face, and Utahime also comes to you. She’s frowning, and you hold in your yawn, struggling to smile.

“I’m fine you all, just had an extra credit thing for Mr. Gojo.” Professor Geto smirks then, rolling his eyes, and Utahime huffs.

“Dear god, what extra credit!” Utahime whispers, and you laugh a bit at her expression, shaking your head.

“Not anything crazy. A ten page essay on this book about Aristotle he found me reading.” You hold it up, and Professor grabs it, with his elegant hands, humming a bit to himself as he studies your face then.

“Huh, Aristotle? Would take you for a Plato girl.” You giggle then, so tired you’ve lost it, yawning wide.

“Satoru…. I mean shit.” You freeze, and they both look at you curiously, making you flush red. “Professor Gojo said that too.”

“Mmm, we are best friends, makes sense.” He hands it back to you with a smile, Professor Geto was devastatingly handsome with his angled features and long hair. Another model to fuck with all of you students.

He held himself with a quiet allure, confident but not overtly insane like Satoru… Professor Gojo… fuck. You needed to be more careful.

“He shouldn’t be giving her extra work.” Utahime says to Geto, and he sighs, looking at you with chocolate eyes.

“Well, what’s the reward?” You grin at that.

“Going to his court case tomorrow.”

“Well your eyes lit right up.” Geto muses, and even Utahime nods. 

“I’d have done it too.” She comes to you and rubs your shoulder softly. “You’re done with it already?”

“Mmhmm. I have to read it to him though, ugh.”

Geto is just grinning now, and Utahime rolls her eyes. “Satoru is such a little shit, I swear. Just go in with confidence, you’ll do well.” He also touches your shoulder gently with a little smile.

You smile at them both. “Thank you all. Promise I’ll get to sleep tonight! Shit, what time is it?”

“Four fifty.”

“I gotta go! Bye!” You run out of the classroom then, exhaling as you head to Gojo’s office.

You knock on the door when you get there, and he calls out for you to enter. The office is surprisingly neat when you walk in it, a stark contrast to the chaos he brings into your life you think, but his classroom was also impeccable, so it makes sense. He’s sitting at his desk, looking up at you with those piercing eyes, leaning his chin on his hands with a smirk, looking fucking irresistable as ever.

“You’re just on time. Good.” You walk over and place the essay down. “Ah-ah. You're reading it to me, remember?”

You bite your lip, exhaling nervously, taking the paper back, then you squeak in surprise as he picks you up, sitting you on his big black desk. You look at him with wide eyes, and he’s gone to lock his door, a loud click resonating, your thoughts run fucking crazy when he’s behind you, taking your hair down out of its bun, bobby pins scattering along the desk.

“What the fuck?” You look up at him incredulously, but he just has a huge grin, his fangs glistening in the soft light of his office.

“Remember I said you’d read it under pressure?” You scowl, as he walks slowly around the desk until he’s in front of you, looming so tall, bending over until his lips are just a breath away.

You clear your throat, tilting your head back to look at him. “What about it has to do with my hair down?”

His grin grows, and he gently places a thumb and forefinger under your chin. “Nothing, I just like your hair down.”

“You’re such a shithead.” He chuckles at that, then eyes you intently.

“What is pressuring is how you feel for me.” Your mouth drops open, and you’re sputtering for a moment, opening and closing it. “You can’t act like it’s not true, just a touch…” He barely brushes a bare thigh, you hold in your moan. “Makes you tremble. And just a…” He leans in so close, breath hot against your lips. “Yeah, it makes you bright fucking red.”

“Does not.” You glare, and he just shakes his head with that annoying smirk plastered on his face, gently rubbing his fingers up and down your body now.

“Your thighs shift when you are watching me in class.” You bite back another moan, struggling to keep still, but you fail, your thighs do fucking move together. “Just like that. Think I didn't notice?” His blue eyes hit yours, and your resolve wavers.

“So my thighs shift… So what?” He leans even closer, and his thumbs brush the sensitive part of your inner thighs, making you fucking wet immediately, and you hate him for it.

“You wriggle your hips when you watch me too. Like this.” He takes them in his hands, pressing you hard on the desk, and you can’t stop the whine that comes from the back of your throat. “Need that friction hmm?”

“Fuck you, Satoru.” You whisper, feeling tears prick your eyes then, your breaths coming in little pants. “Why do this? Why push me so goddamn hard, call me out all the fucking time, with some advanced essay request? Do you really fucking dislike me so much-”

“Dislike?” He cuts you off with a glare, and you blink rapidly, swiping the little tears that fell. “You’re not as smart as I thought.”

“And you call me unintelligent! What the fuck even is this?” You go to get down and he holds you there, hands on your waist, so big they nearly cover it, squeezing and making you moan again. “Fuck, you…”

“I push you because I see potential.” He cuts you off then, and you meet his gaze, which has grown serious. “I’m doing this because…” He trails off, easing his grip and sliding his hands down your body. “Because I’m masochistic.”

You sniffle a bit, shaking your head. “You’re pushing me so hard.”

“I know. And I won’t stop.” He tilts your chin again, making you gaze at that pretty fucking face. “Now, the point is, your desire for me makes you unfocused. It’s a challenge. So we use it, and you push through it, can you do it?”

You tremble, hands hot and sweaty. You suck in a breath, shutting your eyes for a moment and focusing. You wanted to deny it, to not admit what was blatantly obvious to this conceited man. But… “Yes. I can do it.”

“Good girl.” His hands brush your hair back as he murmurs those words, in that deep timbre, you…

Fuck.

“Don’t say that.” You hate what it does to you, his words, that shit eating grin when your watery eyes open.

“Now, begin, Miss Brat. Let’s see how you handle this.” His breath is against your neck again, tickling delicate skin, making you shiver. “If you do well, you’re in tomorrow. I won’t push anything too far either, just enough to throw you off. Okay?”

You nod, realizing the challenge he was throwing, and you pick up your papers, reading out loud in the most confident voice you can muster. “Aristotle's idea of natural law holds that certain principles are inherent in human nature. That has helped to shape the development of natural law theory. Mmnh…” Saroru’s big hands brush up your thighs, making you wetter between them, you struggle to focus.

“Continue on, Miss Brat, you’ve just begun.” You clench your teeth as his fingers brush little circles, hypnotizing you, taking over all of your damn senses.

“Aristotle's emphasis on human reason and the balance between individual rights and social order has influenced the development of constitutionalism, far more than his counterparts or teachers. Plato and Socrates for example… unh. Fuck!” He laughs as he kisses your thigh, bent down between you, and your eyes go wide. Just a brush of his lips, you drop the paper.

He bends down to grab it, his breath so close to where you ache for him you feel tears prick your eyes. He smirks as he hands it back to you, leaning in close now. “So that’s what really gets you, does it remind you of that night?” He purrs the fucking words, and you clench your jaw so hard it hurts. “Does it?”

“Yes, fuck. Ugh.” You look away, and you hate it when he’s leaned against you again, as he’s read you like a book.

“Continue on, you can do this.” He orders, so casually, like he wasn't destroying your mind.

You take a breath, struggling to keep it together, when he decides to run his fingers through your hair now, reading more of the essay. You struggle not to just arch your head and enjoy it, but no, you’ve gotta fucking focus. “Aristotle's concept of justice as a balance between extremes has influenced legal theories, especially when it comes to justice as we know it… Fuck… please…”

“Shh.” His breath is hot on your ear, he nips the earlobe just so with his sharp teeth, flicking his tongue on it. You clench your thighs tight, damn near aching with how bad you want him. “Keep going, baby girl. Remember, you’re under pressure.”

You struggle to focus as the words jumble further on your paper. “Ethics is the most emphasis surely, as his focus on human character has led to a greater focus on ethical considerations in decision-making. It brings to light all of the things that make human beings tick and…”

You inhale sharply when he's behind you, brushing your hair to the side with one hand, then sliding off your blazer. “Aww, you’re a whole Aristotle stan, aren’t you baby girl? I’m so intrigued.”

 “Professor Gojo…” You trail off, he has his big hands on your shoulders, burning you through the blouse with his touch.

“You're doing really well.” He praises you, and you are surprised as fuck. “Keep going, pretty. Almost done.”

“Fuck…” You shake yourself out of it. “As for Aristotle's methodology, which emphasized empirical observation and scientific inquiry, it has influenced the development of evidence based decision making in law. It makes… mmm…”

Satoru is in front of you, brushing the back of his hand down your cheek. “No bronzer today hmm?” You flush, shaking your head. “Good, you have a natural blush when around me. Continue.” His face is buried in your hair, then soft lips kiss your temple. You're trembling so bad, trying to hold it together.

“Aristotle's concept of stability and continuity has influenced the development of legal systems as we know it. Without Aristotle's advanced ideas, we may have been much further behind. His ideas… carry…” You're almost done when he brushes his hands down the side of your breasts, blue eyes locked on yours.

“You're so close, pretty. Finish. ” He watches your back arch when he brushes his thumbs over the taut nipples, over your lacy bra and the blouse, you nearly lose it. But you finish. You fucking do it.

“To…to conclude, Aristotle's ideas have had a profound impact on various aspects of legal thought and practice, and they are still shaping the way we think about law today.”

“Good," He says, his voice gruff. "It's good."

You look up at him, your heart racing, and your eyes meet his. For a moment, the very room seems to hold its breath, and you can feel the electricity flickering between you. The tension is so palpable you could reach out and touch it, he is unusually quiet and serious, when you lean in slightly, your body betrays you, and he mirrors the movement, his face just inches from yours.

“Was it okay, Satoru? Really?” You whisper, he cups your face, nodding, and you're even closer, your hand is pulling on his tie, you can taste his minty breath, tempting you further.

“It was really good. I wouldn’t say if not. Especially for one day.” His fingers play along the neckline of your blouse, brushing your collarbone, he leaves goosebumps everywhere he touches.

“Thank you… I…”

But before anything happens, there is a knock on the door. Thank god, what even could happen between you two that would be anything other than an entire disaster?

“Busy.” Gojo mutters, and they seem to leave. He exhales, shutting his eyes for a moment and resting his forehead on yours, holding your face gently, before pulling back and staring down at you.

“What is it?” You murmur, and he shakes his head, sighing.

“You look so hot on my damn desk. This image is gonna be burned in my fucking brain.” He runs his hand through his hair, sighing.

“I…” You trail off, letting go of his tie and looking down. “Sorry, I got carried away a bit I think.”

“You?” He scoffs at that, and leans in again, barring you with his arms against the desk, gaze devouring you. “You get to go. You did a really good job.”

“Oh my god! Really?” He nods, and you grin, throwing your arms around his neck eagerly and hugging him. He tenses, and you ease away, but he pulls you back against him, standing up and holding you.

You’re dangling there in his arms as you hug him tightly, and you bury your face in his neck for a moment, feeling how good that hard body is on yours, his thrumming heart against your aching breasts. How good he smells, you want to inhale his scent forever. How much this reminds you of that night, of the guy you instantly fucking liked and wanted.

You…

“I’m sorry, Satoru. Got carried away again.” You murmur, and he eases you down, hands not leaving your little waist, he looks down at you, so intense, you can see your desire mirrored in him. In his parted lips. In his hooded eyes. “I'm tired and not thinking right.”

“Don’t apologize.” He says, voice husky.

“I’m really excited.” You ease your arms down, struggling to come down to Earth, to reality, which is damn near impossible, as you can hear your panting breaths and loud heartbeat in his quiet office.

“I’m glad. It’ll be in the morning, so just make sure to prep.” You nod eagerly, then turn to grab your things off his desk, and you’re against him again. He hisses, gripping you tight around your hips, thumbs pushing into your lower back.

You look back over your shoulder. “Satoru?”

“Why is your ass so goddamn nice? Especially in this fucking skirt.” He demands through clenched teeth, and you feel his hands tighten further, bruising grip, as he presses you against the desk.

“Fuck…” You manage to cry out, covering your mouth, when you feel his length hot and hard against the small of your back.

“Yeah, fuck.” He mutters, his hands grab your hair tight then, still loose and flowing, and you arch your head back, fucking uncaring at this point. He could fuck you then and there and you’d literally say thank you.

Why did he make you like this?

“Satoru…” It’s a little whine, his name.

“Why does my name sound so good on those fucking lips?” He’s muttering the words through gritted teeth, and pulls your head until you face him. “Do you know how badly I wanna bend you over this desk and feel that tight cunt around me?”

You manage a shake of your head, blinking rapidly, his hands slide your skirt up, and you grind your ass back for more, moaning. You know you all can’t do it, you fucking know, but the thoughts… the touches…  when he pulls the fabric of your skirt as he pulls your hair, and you breathe into each other's lips.

“We… shouldn’t… right?” You manage, his lips ghosting above yours, before easing his grip. He exhales, kissing your shoulder, sliding your skirt down, leaning over you to grab your blazer.

“I… ahem…” He puts on a smirk suddenly. “I know I get you so horny and wet, but control yourself, Miss Brat.”

‘You fucking ass!” You turn around and shove him hard, he snatches you up, wrapping the blazer around your shoulders, laughing.

“Am I wrong? Bet she’s soaked.” He slides his hand back up, and it takes everything in you to smack his hand.

“Fuck off, Professor Dickhead.” You huff, pushing past him.

“Wait…” You turn to him, glaring, and he’s got his hand running through that silvery white hair again, messing it up, making this literal perfect man look just a bit human.

“What?”

“Let me take you to your dorm. It’s gonna rain.” You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “No?”

“It’s not gonna rain. It was nice out…” Thunder claps in the background, making you jump a bit, and he just smirks. You wanna smack him. “I’ll go out in it.”

Now he glares at you. “You wanna be soaked? More than you already are.” He looks down at your lap again, you turn away. “Jesus, you're so stubborn. Will you please let me?”

“Whatever, why?” He walks past you, unlocking the door.

“You gotta be presentable tomorrow, not all sick because you got drenched. Come on, it's not like it’ll be long.” He grabs an umbrella, a long clear one, and snatches up his briefcase as well.

You quietly follow him out of the office, and through the school, until you’re at the door and see how badly it is raining, pouring down and the wind is going insane, making rain swirl around. Gojo opens the door for you, popping the giant umbrella out and putting it on top of you both.

It’s a downpour, soaking everything in seconds, except for the two of you under the clear shelter of the umbrella. You can feel the heat of his body through the fabric as he holds you close, and even with the chill of the rain, it’s like you’re on fire. Every step you take is a battle against the urge to lean into him, to let him consume you, to just say fuck it and epic kiss in the rain.

You can’t.

You don’t.

You keep walking, trying to keep your mind on anything but how badly you want to feel his hands all over you again, a mere tease, making you shiver as you all near his car, a fancy silver sports car likely worth more than anything you’ve ever seen. He opens the door, holding the umbrella still, and you climb in quickly, shivering as he comes to the other side.

Gojo revs up the engine, and the car lights up, you’re trembling as you watch his big hand wrap around the gear shift, putting the car into drive, but he looks at you first, catching your hungry fucking gaze and smirking. 

“Seatbelt, Miss Brat.” You giggle a bit, breathless, sliding it in with trembling hands.

“Sorry.” You manage, and then the car zips through the soaking wet streets. You find yourself enamored by him, by every clench of his jaw, by the way his hand grips the steering wheel.

“Need to take a picture?” He teases, and you roll your eyes, sighing, hugging the blazer around you a bit.

“Should have asked you that with me on your desk.” He smirks at that, his blue eyes catch yours just so, the windshield working overtime as you all sit at the stop sign, waiting.

“I’ve got a whole fucking mental picture I’ll use later.” You feel overheated, your chest tight with his words, fidgeting with your hands, exhaling. The rain is spattering on the roof, and it’s just you and him, together, side by side. No school, no bar, nothing but you and… “You okay? You’re quiet.”

“Yeah, just cold.” You lie straight up, shivering more. But you know it’s not the cold. It’s him. It’s the way he makes you feel, full of fucking desire that throbs through you.

“Want the heat on?” He asks softly, you shake your head, smiling over at him, as the car speeds through the wet streets, the rain beating a rhythmic pattern on the windshield, the wipers swiping back and forth in a hypnotizing dance. All of it was making your resolve lower.

“No, it's a quick ride, don’t worry.” You murmur, tensing when one of his hands goes to your thighs then, hot and burning on your chilled skin, goosebumps rising where he touches. You can feel your heart racing, your breathing getting heavier.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?” He says, his voice a rough whisper in your ear, and you blush harder than you thought possible as you look at him, realizing you all were at a stop now.

“Don’t say things like that, please… you don’t understand what they do to me.” You murmur, trying to keep your voice steady, avoiding that gaze.

“Baby girl… I know what it does to you.” His hand climbs higher, and you can’t breathe, it’s like the car is suffocating you now.

“Then don’t.” You manage to bite out, and Satoru turns back to the road, continuing to drive in the rain, and the car ride is tense, the scent of his cologne fills the small space intermingling with your own scent.

As you pull up to your dorm, you finally dare to glance at him. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes are dark and intense, watching you, his gaze going down to where his hand is on your thigh. You shift in your seat, internally cursing, slick desire dripping down through your inner thighs even, so close to where his hand was it would only take the smallest inch further to reveal it.

"Listen," he says, his voice low and serious. "This isn't going to be a cakewalk. You're coming to a serious case tomorrow. You need to be on your toes."

You nod, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. "I understand. I'll be ready."

“And you won’t be interfering.” He slides his hand fucking higher, and your heart is racing now. “You don’t smack my hand away. Why?”

“You even have to ask?” You bit out, looking at him now, your lips parting, his eyes dart to them, hunger in their blue depths.

“You should smack it away.” He says, husky, and you go to take his hand off you, but you falter, instead you grip it, sliding it up that inch, to where his thumb feels it, feels the sticky wetness on you. He exhales, gripping you tightly, sliding his hand up until it comes in contact with your dripping cunt.

“Fuck…” You curse, when his thumb brushes you over your panties, and he exhales, moaning, leaning over you, and you all sit there for a moment, the rain thundering around you, your heart beating so loud it’s all you can hear.

“Saoaking fucking wet.” He murmurs, swirling his finger again and pressing up, and you fucking lose it, moaning, arching your hips up, gripping onto his business jacket, your lips right next to him.

“We shouldn’t…” You whisper, and then cry out when his long fingers stroke you up and down. “I shouldn’t have… shouldn’t be…”

“Why don’t you let me get you off real quick?” Satoru murmurs, sliding his fingers under the waistband of your panties now, moaning when he fully feels you, and you’re already gushing from just that.

“Fuck… Satoru… “ You hiss at his touch. “I can’t get it out of my fucking head. And I hate you for that.” You mumble, he tilts his head at you, eyes narrowing as he slides a finger up in you, and you throb around it, cries loud in the little car, louder than the pouring rain.

“You hate me, hmm?” He whispers, and you nod, tears pricking your eyes when he crooks his finger now, breath against your lips, you grind shamelessly in the chair, tummy clenching when he finds that spot.

“Yes. Fuck you for knowing my body somehow. And… fuck… mmmn…” Your eyes flutter shut when he crooks up again, hitting the little spot again, you see stars and black dots everywhere, cursing.

“Well guess what?” He leans even further, even closer, brows drawing low. “Fuck you for this perfect little pussy. Fuck you for being so wet.” You’re whining, pathetic now, tears pricking your eyes, as he slides his finger out, leaving you gasping.

“Fuck you completely.” You shove at him, and he scowls, then brings his finger to his mouth, sucking you off him, moaning, shutting his eyes, so fucking sexy. “Fuck you for looking like that!”

“Fuck you for tasting so fucking good.” He growls, and you’re both panting, your wetness is on his full lips. “I thought it was just alcohol, but nope. You taste as good as I remember. Now I think of eating you out while you’re at your fucking seat in class.”

“I think about sucking your dick under the fucking desk. So.” He blinks at that, and you turn insanely red, looking away. “And fuck you for that too.”

“Fuck you for always eye fucking me in class.” He growls the words, yanking your hair back, dominating every bit of your body and mind.

“Fuck you for… just fuck you, Satoru.” You’re crying now, and he’s watching you, smirking at you.

“ Are you crying ?” Your fingers itch to smack him, you shake your head, and you all sit there for a second, the rain getting harder, the windows fogging up with the heat from you two in the car, and you want to fucking kiss him so badly... You want to grab his hair and pull him into you, so he doesn’t stop, so he never stops.

But you don’t.

Because you’re both fucking insane, and you’re in a car, outside your fucking dorm. So instead you sit there, panting, trembling, staring at him, and he at you, as his grip loosens just slightly, as you feel yourself getting so wet your panties are ruined just like the damn night you met him.

“Not crying.” You say, firmly, and he smirks down you, so fucking charming and gorgeous you wanna smack him.

“You don’t wanna get off, baby girl?” He whispers, sliding his hand back down your waist, making you make some pathetic wine he seemed to enjoy.

“Of course I do, but where does it lead? Me fucking riding you in the car?” He grins big then. “Satoru…”

“You can’t just get off? You gotta fuck me hmm?”

“I need to go.” You unsnap your seatbelt, shaking hands fumbling, he slides his hands off you, unbuckling it for you.

“Poor baby can’t function, huh?” You glare again at him.

“Fuck you.”

“Gonna be all horny in the court room, how can you go?”

“I’ll use my rose toy.” At that his eyebrows shoot up, and you cover your mouth, falling back in your seat. “Fucking ignore that.”

“I am going to need a video of that.” You shove him, and he’s laughing at you now, with that pretty grin of his. It sucks.

This sucks.

“You wish, Professor Dickhead.” You go to open the door, peering at how bad it’s still down pouring.

He’s out of the car in a moment, then he’s opening yours, holding the umbrella up high so that you two are back under it together, he’s looking down at you, that white hair just a little wet. You errantly brush it back, then put your hand down, flushing, realizing where you were, who you both were. He takes the hand then, leading you to the doorway, which had an overhang.

“I’ll be here at 8 AM sharp, Miss Brat.” He murmurs, still too close, body still up against yours. You nod, shy suddenly, next to the man that had just tasted you, your fucking Professor. “Want my number?”

“What? No.” He laughs at you, white teeth showing, and it lights up his stupidly pretty face.

“Do you know how many women would die for my number?” You shrug, and he continues to laugh. “You’re such a little brat.”

“Am not. I just don’t want it.” You look down, at his exposed neck, where the knot of his tie had come loose, and your shaky hands go to slide the knot back up, you hear his hitch of his breath, see his Adam’s apple bob up and down.

“If you’re going to this case we need to keep in contact. I won’t be sending you dick pics, you’re not that lucky.” He winks and you chuckle against your own will, shaking your head and smoothing your hand down his tie.

“Mmm, true. You won’t get any videos either, Professor Dickhead.” He pouts at that, taking his phone out of his pocket then.

“My heart’s broken. But don’t worry.” He leans close, whispering in your ear, tickling it like crazy, making you throb with need. “I remember exactly how that pretty pussy looks.”

“Fuck off.” You whisper, pathetically, you don’t move, and you don’t mean it, though. Pathetic for this idiot professor who was ruining you with casual, silly little fucking movements. “Hate you.”

“I hate you . Hate how good you smell. Taste. Annoying brat.” You pull back to glare up at him, meeting his scowl. “Take my number, brat, and count yourself lucky to have it.”

“Conceited dick.” You take out your phone, and scan his little code, he pops right up in your phone. You giggle maniacally when you change his name in there, and he scowls at you.

“What’s so funny, brat?” You show him his name - Professor Dickhead- and he rolls his eyes, glaring at his phone, then smirking maniacally back, when he snaps a pic of you so quick it throws you off.

“What? Satoru!” You yank and hop up and he finally lets you see the phone, and it’s literally a pic of your cleavage in a top that’s ever so sheer and wet, with the name ‘Miss Brat’. “Dick!”

“Bitch.” You huff, turning away, and he snatches you by your wrist. “Don’t you want a picture of me?”

“Nope, sure don’t. I see you enough and it annoys me.” His laugh is hot against your neck.

“You’re a good liar, that will make you a great lawyer.” You turn to glare up at him, his touch eases, he’s just barely brushing his fingers down your hand now. You ache to hold his hand in your own, to entwine your fingers in his.

“Really, thank you, I am excited for tomorrow.” You whisper, and he sighs, hands releasing you now. You are just standing in front of him in the rain, under the cocoon the umbrella keeps you all in, hearing his breaths behind you.

“You’re welcome, little brat. Maybe if this works out and you bust your nice little fucking ass…” You yelp when he pinches you, whirling back around. “Then you’ll be in line to earn that internship. You’ve got a few months still, but…”

“Yeah?” You raise a brow. He shrugs, casually.

“If you can keep up with how hard I’m going to push you.” The words take on something else, your mind is fucking wrecked you realize.

“I can take it.” He smiles at that, touching your chin gently.

“All right, go on in, I’ll see you in the morning.”

You dash inside, and your heart is fucking pounding, when you’re up in your room you hop out of all your clothes, wincing when you slide off the underwear that’s just sticking to your goddamn thighs now. You start the shower, cursing internally as you peek at your phone, at his goddamn number.

You’d been ready to fuck this guy on his desk, on his car…

And you had shit for experience.

You wouldn’t say it, but it made it all even worse, you were so far out of your wheelhouse as it was. You struggle not to touch yourself in the damn shower, to not push this all way further than it needed to be, but you find your clit and lean back against the tile wall.

Images of him fill your head, the way he looked at you, the way his eyes had gone dark blue when he touched you. The way his voice had gotten all low and gruff when he said he fucking hated you. You start moaning out loud, as you slip your fingers in, stroking fast, but it’s nothing like just one of his ridiculously long fingers, you can’t hit that damn spot.

You go back to rubbing your clit because at this point it’s puffy and so sensitive it happens fast. You come hard, gripping the little shower bar and leaning, your knees wobbling, feeling like a damn mess, and it’s all because of him. When you’re done you slump against the wall, panting, so confused what this man made you into.

He’d make fun of you if he knew.

You step out, sighing, drying up and then getting ready for the next day, planning your outfit, planning what to bring with you. This was an insanely serious case, one of the biggest, all over the television, and you had watched Satoru on them, he was fucking the best, not that you’d stroke his ego and tell him.

Your phone lights up when you’re settled down under the blankets, and you see his number and name pop up.

Professor Dickhead: Good night, Miss Brat.

How did something so simple make you nearly tear up again? You exhale, hand shaking as you swipe it up and open the messages. You nervously bite your lower lip, lips that ached for a goddamn kiss, one you had almost three months ago now. You couldn’t get the taste off your mind. You hate this.

You: Good Night… Satoru.

Not professor Dickhead, for some reason, it didn’t fit at the moment.

Well…

Satoru Gojo hearts the message you sent, and you hate the stupid smile on your face that it brings, the smile that lingers as you fall asleep, and you dream of him, anticipating the next day, such a huge day for you and your career, but also, spending time with him.

Fucking Professor Gojo.

Chapter 3

Ch 2 Ao3 link https://archiveofourown.org/works/56895382/chapters/145101856#workskin