#Hope that didn’t sound mean or condescending | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spencerscoven · 4 months

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the alternate … art donaldson

Art has a proclivity for giving attention to his enemy. He hates her— but particularly hates how she has Patrick wrapped around her finger even more.

warnings ; smut .. slutty drunk freshman art x Patrick's gf, infidelity .. unedited for now! oops!

It didn’t take much time for Art to settle into Cornell— it wasn’t just the tennis or the girls, of which he quickly learned were rather women, or even the academics. His hesitation on his attendance was especially foolish, especially in moments like these as he rolled over, crushing the red solo up beneath him. The buzzing in his jean pocket persisted, just like it had for the last five minutes before, causing him to utter another affirmation to ignore it into her mouth.

Maybe the women had one or two things to do with it.

"Maybe just get it?"

"Why?"

"So you... can tell them you're busy."

He hummed into her mouth as the girl above him detached herself, moving to grab the stitch of her top to remove it as he tilted his hips to reach for his phone.

Patrick.

His calloused hands came up to push her thighs over his hips, sitting up to read the rapid series of text Patrick had sent. And Art soon saw— was still sending. All of them ranged from different ways of him asking Art to check up on you, letting your attendance be known. Patrick's texts detailed the simple request of him checking to see if you were taking your alcohol well. Another saying he hoped you wouldn't get roofed. And one that blatantly asked that he didn't let any of "those Ivy League assholes" fuck his girlfriend.

Art rolled his eyes, resentment laced in his actions as he muttered condolences and pledged to "be right back", his large hands taking the knob of the door and peering out into the dark hallway to find you. When a look wasn't enough, he left the room door slightly ajar, stepping completely into the hallway filled with red cups, colored lights, almost sidetracked by his team that pulled him by the neck and fought to put a drink in his hand. With a light smile still gracing his face and beer in a can, his eyes wondered up to your face, watching as your lips wrapped around a bottle of Corona, some leaking out the side of which you swiped away with the back of your hand. He felt the same kind of resentment he usually felt when he saw you when Patrick visited fill him from his chest out. He watched as you leaned against the wall talking to someone. He took in your skimpy skirt and top with less resentment, though.

He especially didn't like it when the next time he looked for your face, you were staring at him, eyes hooded and smile nasty and condescending.

"He told me to look for you."

"I know." You raised your eyebrow dismissively, almost wanting to laugh at Patrick's good intentions. He knew what you'd say about Art. Just like you assumed what Art said about you, yet he asked him anyway.

"And by that, he means look after you." Art leans in, lips close to your ear as the music sounded. You roll your eyes as he lingers there a moment too long and you expect him to say something more, but he never does.

"We both know I look fine."

It takes a beat before he responds. "We both do."

"And we both know you don't want to babysit."

"But I'm a good friend."

"I've known corrupt politicians that are better friends than you, Art."

He sways away from you, facing the rest of the party as he rolls his eyes with the kind of insularity he only reserved for you, tipping his head back to finish the rest of his beer and tossing it towards the trashcan, only to miss.

He turns to you, irritation flaring as he stabilizes himself on the sticky wall behind him by holding your hips. It's something you're willing to let go of, your breath clicking as he whispers: "You smell like pot."

"It's a free country."

"Okay," he challenges, pursing his lips as he leans closer. "What's in your cup?"

"What? Yours and Chelsea's not good enough for you?"

His upper lip raises, in a look of both disgust and toleration as he grasps your wrist, forcing you to bring your own bottle to his mouth. The contents of it are mostly able to be swallowed but the rest flow from the corners of his lips, down his chin, to his throat where his Adams apple bobs as he swallows. You wipe it instinctively, causing you to both freeze for only a moment. He shutters before he opens his mouth again to slur,

"Chelsea?"

You look at him quizzically, your mouth opening once, twice, three times, only to say nothing but erupt in laughter that rocks your head backwards and your body closer to his. Art looks around frantically, his mouth tilting downwards as he looks around, grasping your hips forward and gritting his teeth as he repeats himself.

"Chelsea? What's the fucking joke I'm not getting?"

"The girl that you just— my fucking god, Art. I know you look the way you do, but you couldn't even remember her name?" You tilt your head towards the doorway, insinuating the room you're sure his cologne still lingered in. He groans, his head falling forward in a laugh as his right hand on your hip runs up the side of your torso, his head spinning.

"I'm not a very good date, am I?" You can nearly taste the alcohol on his tongue and you're out of laughs, humor gone as a consequence of being so close to him. And maybe he's too drunk to realize it's happening, but you're too cross to care when his thumbs rub circles on your hipbone, of which he had to invade underneath your waistband to do.

"I almost finished my night like this." It's so quiet that you're unsure if it was for you to hear. But it doesn't matter, as your hand runs up his arm and shoulders, eyes following over the ripples.

"This is not the same."

Your other hand trickles down to his waistband, guiltily skating over his bulge as you feel his pocket for his phone.

"Arthur, Patrick told you to check on me. So, tell him I'm okay."

"I told him that I'd check on you. I also told him you were a bad idea, like I always do," He saws it lowly, as if it's not supposed to slip out and has only found it's way because of his level of intoxication. You scoff, pushing him backwards as you're suddenly slightly more sober. You rock back and forth, eyes rolling back, but the distance is not created before you can hear him finish: "but I never said he didn't have good taste."

You don't like that it's still said in the way only drunk and resentful Art could deliver it. "You're not a very good fucking friend."

"To who, you?" He makes it his personal duty to invade your space, his face in somewhat of a snarl. You know that some would see this as uncharacterized for Art, but it's most familiar to you. It feels somewhat like home. Albeit, a house fire, but home.

Your first encounter with him was glancing behind yourself at move in, and seeing his blonde locks brushed back by calloused hands as he looked at you, then to your racket.

Your second encounter was only minutes later, when he stood next to his raven haired friend who asked for your number as he rolled his eyes with a knot in his jaw, as if he didn't find you worthy. He tugged on the shirt of his friend, telling him there were better things to do. Better, he had said.

And that never made much sense to you. Because in your relationship with Patrick, there had always been the inconsequential three.

"You're not my friend," You begin, mind calculating how many rooms and doors of Cornell's largest final club you'd have to go before finding somewhere, anywhere, that would fit just you. "Never was."

Art's only silent for a moment, nose flaring and eyes squinting. his shoulders are tense, and if you were to look down you'd see his hand balled in a fist.

"What? What now, Art?"

"You never gave me your number."

He watches as your eyes furrow in confusion, the heat in your eyes rising rather than deflating. And he speaks again:

“You gave it to Patrick. But you never gave me your number.”

Without your bottle, your hands search for something to do, blinking frantically. They resort to touching yourself in the same places he just had, your fingers running down your torso quickly, your hip bone. When you touch your shoulder is when the two of your gazes meet once again. Art watches through blue as you nod your head slowly in both horror and understanding.

You're quick on your feet. He's watched countless of your matches, even when he had no business doing so. But he is too. So when a short string of curses land out of your mouth and you march down the hallway, he's on your heels.

And all you can think is that you know his gaze better than any other. It wasn't something you intended but through these sporadic games, your body and soul had bargained to be familiar with Art more than any other. If he leaned against the net or lunch table, it became the kind of resourcefulness of movement that was so particularly him. It was rare you called on him, yet necessary when it was a matter of Patrick. He was always there, steadfast and urgent. It'd be days before you learned of the lecture he missed because of it. And while your boyfriend was off being a pro, Art never was slow to tell you how good his female counterparts around him were, while you were "only barely whopping college ass".

But somehow he was always there. You found his gels and handle tape in your tennis bag. You had more than half your dining points still because you were just "a casualty of being present” when he was buying his own lunch. And it all made you feel as if he was just very...

"You're a fucking con artist," You shoved him against the door of which he only narrowly made it "A fucking wolf in sheep's clothing."

It made you even angrier that he was stronger than you but willing to let his body fall back, lips pierced in a thin obedient line as his back hit the door repeatedly under your assault until he grasped both your forearms, holding them closely together. A wince escaped your mouth, his strength relenting and becoming lighter but still he held you. He leaned down, attempting to meet your face that now focused on the hardwood below.

"I know I'm the bad guy. Still, what's it gonna be?"

You didn't look up at that. But you did at the vibration that sounded in his pocket just seconds later. There were always three.

Art doesn't waste a moment to release your arms, wrapping his own in an enclosure around your head to reach your lips, tugging you impossibly close to him. You can't help but not move-- letting him twist your head and invade your lips. It's only until you release a small moan you latch back.

After Art's kiss, your night was haunted. It was distorted beyond your eyes' power of correction. So when a pair of lips landed on yours again, you came back home. You gave in.

His hands ran down your body, invading each and every corner of you. Your hips, your waist, the small of your back, the back of your thighs which he used to hoist your body upwards and against the doorframe, caging you. As the wet kisses sound on your neck, you look past his head to the room you two now occupied, no bed. Just various pieces of miscellaneous covered in cream sheets. When you look towards the window, releasing another whimper as you feel his middle and index finger prod at your cotton panties, you can see dust aligning with the moonlight.

Like everything else he does, he's good at the way he touches you. No, nearly instinctual. Art's fingers curve and level themselves out inside of you, yet he leaves his palms frigid, rubbing your clit back and forth with the surface of it. It makes you all so weak, Art murmuring your name as the two of you lower to the floor, you're suddenly reminded of the urgency of the matter.

"Art, I need--"

"I know,"

I know,

I know.

He repeats the sentiment into your skin and it almost makes your eyes brim with tears as you feel his bulge covered by denim slot against your soaked underwear. The feeling is delicious, so you excuse your decorum when you buck your hips against his. You watch as he detaches himself from you, the depth of his blonde hair twinkling in the moonlight. His lips and chin are swollen and wet from your messy kisses that appeared to be more tongue than anything. He lifts your hips to remove your skirt on his own once he catches the way your eyes watch him, still. He looks at you, sick with the same fever, but now you're not quite sure what this illness even is.

His hands move to tug your shirt up, yet you push his hands away, making them double up on his belt as both of you scramble to slide his jeans below his ass. You also help him when he leans to grab your right leg, sliding it up and against his hip as he sways above you. You watch as he thinks, only for a moment, places a feather right kiss on your knee, whispers something you can't hear, and promptly shoves his dick inside of you.

The force of it slams your head against the door, the hinges rattling but the surprise of his size makes it so you hardly notice. You close your eyes immediately until you're struck with the realization that you hope this never happens again. You hope you're never drunk enough, or lucky enough to have your boyfriend's best friend's dick rocking you back and forth ever again. You near your eyes open, willing to at least let yourself savor what little you have now, gazing in the middle of you two where you can see him disappear inside of you repeatedly.

Art huffs above you as your name escape his lips repeatedly as if it hadn't been the first time. You find yourself unable to cope, grabbing the hardwood until you realize there's not much give. So you resort to firmly biting his shoulder between your gasps and yelps. which only surges him on to drive into you faster, his hips snapping and the sounds of both your flesh filling the room.

You feel his clammy hand reach for the hair at the nape of your neck and you allow yourself to submissively follow regardless of your confusion. Art's breath mingles with yours as he asks:

"Is it good?"

You don't answer.

"Does it feel good?"

Your brows furrow together as you nod your head up and down as if you’ve been doped, chest heaving uncontrollably. He meets your lips and it feels as if he's kissing you solely for himself as he drags his hand on your cheeks and forehead, ridding your face of your sweat and hair. His other hand circulates your clit with a firm hold and you feel the familiar sensation approaching. Your skin felt both as cold and hot as it ever had, your teeth penetrating your bottom lip, biting Art in the process.

"I don't think we should do this.." You spit out quietly in intervals, because it feels like the right thing to say right before you come all over his cock and he leans down to look at the mess you've made in bliss. The results that it gives are fruitful, as you feel his fingers' relentlessness on your clit still. But you can tell he's struggling to stay where he is, trying to milk every moment he can inside of you.

You use your feet to push his hips back, arms reaching above your head as you untangle your limbs. Your legs remain sprawled out on his thighs, of which lay on his calves. The silence between you two is like molasses, and he stares at your core as you brush your socked toes against his abdomen, then cock.

You see a frown form on his face, but you're also met with the needy repeated rise of his hips that meet your foot and help you grind against him. You watch in awe as his eyes don't leave yours, confusion filling the air. You bring your feet faster, rubbing against his tip and watch as Art's whimper fills the air and his cum shoots to his lower stomach and your sock, his eyes closing, throat repeatedly bobbing as he rides his high. You watch as the thrusts into you become increasingly slower until they stop completely and the two of you are left still once again. You marvel in the way it seems almost as if he always gets what he wants. And Art isn't quite sure of what to make of you at all anymore, with his ears ringing and chest warm.

On his knees, he cascades towards your body that slumps against the door frame. He moves towards you slowly at first, hesitating if you wanted any of this at all. But you don't decline the warmth of his chest as he pulls you in, wordlessly. You let him bury his nose to your scalp as he takes you in.

And you both agree that if this may be a story of tonight alone, you both might as well melt indistinguishably into it once again.

#art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x you #art donaldson /reader #art donaldson /you #challengers movie #challengers 2024 #art donaldson fic #art donaldson imagine

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chlorinecake · 9 months

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𓂃 watercolor eyes | park wonbin oneshot

⚡︎ pairing: Stoner!Wonbin x Female!Reader | ⚡︎ word count: 7.8k | ⚡︎ genre: mutual pining, college au, smut (⚠︎) | ⚡︎ contains: awkward relationships, an original character + sungchan and shotaro, swearing, drug use/distribution, angst (?), mild dacryphilia, sexual tension mixed with fluff, kissing, unprotected sex while buzzed, heavy petting, oral (m. r)

ON TOP OF countless other obligations in your life, upcoming exams were kicking your anxiety's ass with the biggest fucking boots imaginable.

All you wanted was to take the edge off, and at this point, you didn’t care what it’d take to do that.

Introducing Exhibit A: Your closest friend and roommate, Roxanne, who so conveniently happened to be a junkie.

You brought up your need for a “quick fix” (so to speak) while studying in your dorm together one afternoon. Though, she offered to get you some help from another friend of hers who you’d never met before.

“Wait, you want me to go with you?” You asked in confusion, already prepared to reject Roxanne’s proposal at the idea of personally consulting her drug dealer.

“Yes, you're coming with me… What do you think this is, Kiki’s Delivery Service?”

“No, but… I-"

“Don’t tell me you’re chickening out, ____,” she chuckled, turning the steering wheel as she trailed down a shadowy lane.

“No, I… I want this… I need this even, it’s just that…I don’t really know what to expect…”

“Then don’t expect anything,” she answered, giving you an encouraging smile that came off as more condescending, “Expectations are for pussies anyways.”

“Roxanne, I’ve never even met this guy before,” you pressed, hoping that she’d maybe let you sit outside in the car instead of actually speaking with him.

“Look, I’m close with my dealer, and as I always say, a friend of mine is a friend of yours.”

Cue your internal sigh of submission.

“Okay,” you said, straightening your posture in your seat with a feigned confidence.

“Uhhhh, are you sure with that ‘okay,’ or is it more like an ‘okay, I have more questions’ type of ‘okay’?”

“No,” you clarified, “it means what I said… I’m okay.”

“Okay,” she nodded, before giving you a brief synopsis about this friend of hers: STEM major, weed connoisseur, and art-hoe with a shy guy undercut.

Doesn’t sound anywhere near as daunting as the drug dealers on TV shows appear to be, right?

She pulled up to one of the apartment complexes a few miles from your university. It was one of the lower quality establishments, with the only oddity being how nice the vehicles parked outside the apartment divisions were, a sleek black motorcycle belonging to none other than the mysterious drug smuggler named Wonbin Park.

“Hey, take off your hood, silly, it’s rude,” Roxanne nudged, locking her car from the keys in her pocket more times than necessary.

“But… what if someone sees us?,” you whispered, walking closely beside her.

“Then I’m glad their eyes are working? Hell, I don’t fucking know what they’d want me to tell ‘em,” she shrugged, walking up to the front door.

“So are you acting like a nonchalant loser on purpose, or is this just your way of trying to calm me down?”

Roxanne laughed hysterically at your words, showcasing the sparkly pink gem decorating her upper canine teeth as she patted you on the back.

“We’re just here for weed, babe. That will help calm you down before I can.”

You had almost missed the part where she knocked as you got lost in your head, the front door suddenly opening and basking you both with a sudden warmth, contrasting with the cold evening weather.

“Roxie?,” asked the male from the doorstep that you fought with every bone in your body to avoid making eye contact with.

“Wonie?” Your friend mocked goofily, walking up to hug the boy briefly before grabbing your hand and pulling you inside, “I hope you don’t mind that I brought a friend.”

“Not at all, my place is always open to you and your girlfriends,” he chirped with forced yet gentle enthusiasm.

“Uhhhh, she’s just a friend, considering how we’ve only slept together while clothed before… but thanks anyway!”

“Any time,” he replied confidently, walking up to the sink that was conveniently in his living room before re-lighting the dead bud of the joint he held gracefully between his plump lips, ashes falling from the tip before he inhaled a thick huff.

Some of the ash fell on his lower abdomen, and you were just now realizing that he didn’t have a shirt on.

Good thing you were used to the smell of pot by now, thanks to Roxanne’s inevitable habit of greening out every Friday night.

“So, what brings you ladies in today? I’d hate to break it to you, but I used my last condom just a few hours ago.”

“Yeah, we’re actually here for a different kind of pipe this time,” Roxanne answered, blinking as if trying to communicate with him to ditch the wild language.

“Oh,” he said, doe eyes widening as his mouth hung a little, his bunny teeth shining right back at you.

Stop staring at his mouth.

Stop staring at his mouth-

“I uh… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything,” he smiled softly, and of course you noticed because that’s where your eyes were glued the entire time, so distracted that it startled you when he reached to shake your hand.

“I’m Wonbin, but… you can call me anything you like, really.”

“It’s alright,” you returned, finally coming back to the present, “I’m ____.”

His initially confident demeanor stemmed from his assumption that you were more flamboyant like Roxanne, but he made note to be less vulgar until he could tell you warmed up to him.

Until he properly warmed up to you.

“So uh, yeah, do you want the usual, or were you thinking to try something new?” Wonbin asked casually as he leaned on the back of the sofa.

“Hmm,” Roxie hummed in thought, “yeah, my usual’s good. Just lay off the stronger stuff in the mix, though. It’s her first time.”

Something about what she said made Wonbin smile, wide and excited, peeking at you through his shaggy bangs with zero intent of hiding it.

Was he… flirting with you?

“Well, it’s my pleasure to be your first then,” he winked, getting up from the couch and heading to another room on his flat.

“You two kittens just wait here and I’ll be back with your stuff in a minute,” he claimed, which actually ended up being around an 8 minute wait while you and Roxanne went on and on about something you can’t even remember now.

The smile evaporated from Roxanne’s face as Wonbin returned to the living room while reciting the order. “You’ve got two ounces of-”

“I know the recipe, moron. You might scare my friend away if you say it out loud…,” she joked, feigning a pout as she hugged your shoulder, “so how much do you want for it, candy man?”

“It’s on the house this time,” Wonbin said, “so long as you bring me dinner tonight.”

“Fucking fat ass,” she spat, “what’re you craving?”

“Something warm,” he replied almost immediately, “with seasoned meat and a sauce… Maybe some rice, too.”

“Gotcha,” Roxie chirped as she pushed off of her knees to stand up.

Wonbin walked up to hand her the goody bag with such politeness, almost in the way that a child would give something to his big sister.

“Cool. I like eating around 7 o’clock, so you know when and where to find me.”

“Yes, through your stomach and all the way up to your greedy little heart.”

“Mhm,” he said with a satisfied hum, taking Roxanne’s spot on the couch as she walked towards the door. You and Wonbin were now sitting next to each other, his arms spread out on the back of the couch in a relaxed manner.

“Uhm, ____?”

“Oh, right! Sorry… I didn’t know we were finished,” you stammered, getting up from the couch to meet Roxanne at the door.

“Yeah, took him long enough,” she rolled her eyes, “I was starting to think he wanted us to spend the night…”

“Alright, get out of my apartment already,” he said playfully, waving a hand as if shooing you two, “and make sure to secure the bottom lock for me, I don’t feel like getting back up yet.”

“Whatever.”

Slam.

The door was closed, 50% locked, and you two were heading back down the staircase, cold air greeting you once again before you both got back in the car, driving back to your dorm room to drop off the drugs first, and then to the grocery store…

… to buy a bag of rice and a fresh pack of chicken.

“WHAT’S THAT NOISE?,” Roxanne asked with animatedly furrowed eyebrows, holding the grocery bag you two had packed Wonbin’s “dinner” in.

You ended up making a chicken roast with carrots, potatoes, gravy, and steamed rice like he asked.

“Here, hold this,” Roxanne mumbled, barely loud enough for you to hear before she dropped the bag, your reflects luckily kicking in fast enough for you to catch it before the glass container could hit the concrete stair well.

“It’s as cold as a snowman’s grave out here, Wonie, open up!,” She yelled while banging on the front door, the little dream catcher that hung on the inner side jingling with her forceful hits, “Hellooooo?”

“You’re like Doordash but with the temper of FedEx,” you heard a deep voice say from behind the walls.

“But I only charge herbal fees for my services,” she added while crossing her arms.

Creek.

The door slung open, Wonbin’s muscular arms framing the entrance with a fed up look plastered on his face.

There were two people sitting behind him on the couch playing video games. A violent game, you’d assume, given the sporadic and sharp flashes of light that filled the room.

“Is there some kind of a secret password now or something?,” Roxanne asked impatiently, not as entertained my the view of Wonbin’s still shirtless body like you were.

“Oh, right… come on in ladies,” he said with a feigned smile, extending a hand to welcome you two back in, “hope you brought enough food, because I have guests.”

You followed Roxanne and Wonbin to the kitchen, where you placed the steaming bag of food on the counter before taking out the containers. That’s when Roxanne started grabbing dishes from the cabinet.

The glass plates clinked behind you as you went to search for a serving spoon in the drawer. “Hey… where are the spoons and forks?,” you asked while still looking through one of his kitchen drawers before Wonbin suddenly tapped you on the shoulder.

“I uhm… I keep the utensils in here,” he smiled shyly, just as he reached for the overhead counter to grab the silverware he kept in a box. Your breath got caught in your chest as you felt his hips nearly fuse with yours in the moment. Luckily, he couldn’t see how flustered you appeared underneath his shadow.

“Gimme that,” Roxanne giggled, snatching the box from him and taking out two large ladles, one for the rice and another for the roast.

“Gosh, that smells amazing! Can you put cheese on mine, pretty please?,” you heard one of the boys ask from the couch, peeking over his shoulder with soft eyes.

“Yes, Taro, I can put some cheese on it for you… even though I think it’s weird,” Roxanne smiled.

“Ahh, thanks man. Oh- and who’s the new girl?” He went on, placing the controller down as he was no longer interested in playing.

“Just a friend in need of a good time—” Wonbin answered, which shocked you to say the least, “—so be nice, Sungchan.”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?,” The taller boy pitched in, “but does she even talk?”

The room went quiet for a moment, the only sound being Sungchan’s clicks from the remote controller before he got gunned down by a random player.

“Dammit, Shotaro! Why’d you stop playing? Now we’re tied with the other team!!”

“Too bad, so sad, bro. I’m hungry,” he chirped, getting up from the couch to help you bring the plates to everyone.

“Woah, who’s the big plate for?” Shotaro asked with widened eyes.

“Me and Sungchan,” Roxanne said with a satisfied smile, “we’re sharing.”

“Oh… you didn’t tell me you and Sungchan were on good terms now,” you said, breaking your awkward streak of silence, just now recognizing the taller boys face from Roxanne’s phone.

She always talked about Sungchan and his “big stupid dick,” as she liked calling it.

The pair stopped being cool with each other for reasons you don’t really remember anymore, but you’d take her sudden affection towards him over the violence you witnessed during one of her texting fits the other night.

“Shhh,” she giggled, meeting Sungchan on the couch before sitting on his lap, “I hope you don’t mind me feeding you in front of your little friends… unless that makes you shy,” she pouted.

All he did was open his mouth in response, savoring the taste of the first spoon she fed him.

It was a sickeningly cute sight to be honest.

“Sick and twisted,” Shotaro said as if reading your mind.

“Cry about it,” Sungchan joked between a mouth full of saucy rice, heart swelling from the way Roxanne cooed at him.

You and Wonbin were just now making it to the living room after getting some napkins for everyone. There was room left for the two of you on the couch thanks to Roxie sitting on Sungchan’s lap, but that meant you and Wonbin would be sandwiched together in the middle.

Great.

“Come on guys, take a seat,” Roxie said before taking a bite of the food, her teeth grazing the metal fork with a loud scrap.

“God, I hate when you do that,” Sungchan sighed, tickling her sides as she laughed uncontrollably.

“Stop that, asshole, before I drop this food everywhere!”

“That’d be a shame, this chicken is so good,” Wonbin hummed with a nod, stuffing his cheeks with more of the gravy.

“____ made it,” Roxie pitched, giving you a look.

Despite how hard you tried to fight it, you were started to feel pretty awkward.

You knew it had a lot to do with Wonbin, thanks to his cripplingly annoying quirk to not put a damn shirt on.

You did eventually warm up to everyone, even pitching in on some of Sungchan’s dad jokes.

Though, the stack of empty dishes in the center of the living room table seemed more alive than your spirits right now.

The inevitable tiredness that came with staying up late without a phone in your hand started to kick in.

“Hey, I’m gonna go wash up these dishes real quick,” Wonbin said, glancing your way for reasons you almost couldn’t process between the loud laughter of Shotaro and Roxie over whatever dirty joke Sungchan told about SpongeBob and Patrick.

Did he want you to come with him? Alone?

Yes.

By now, Wonbin was no longer in the living room, having walked to the kitchen sink where he proceeded to run soapy dish water.

The scent of lemon wafted through the dimly lit space as you stepped beside him to get the dish towel.

“Sorry,” you said nervously, noticing the way he jumped as your hand grazed his arm slightly.

“It’s alright, you just surprised me,” Wonbin smiled, drying his hands before walking over to the other side of the counter, opening a plastic bag filled with what appeared to be blunt wraps and another bag filled with fluffy green.

“You just leave that stuff out on your counter?,” You asked, voice kind of quiet over the running water.

“Mhm…,” he started, “it’s not like the cops are just gonna raid my house randomly… unless… you were to say something,” he winked, putting a filler along the inside of the wrap before sprinkling in some herb, then tucking it tightly.

“Your secrets safe with me,” you said, the faucet squeaking as you turned the water off.

“____.”

“Yes?” You asked in confusion almost… he was already starting to use your name so normally.

“Pass me that lighter from over there,” he pointed before sticking his tongue out, licking the inner side on the blunt wrap to seal it.

His pretty tongue glistened underneath the kitchen lights, captivating you once again.

Fuck, stop staring, you internally swore at yourself.

He put the blunt between his lips, waiting for you to light the tip. “Stop moving, silly,” you giggled, holding his face in place with your other hand to keep him still as he playfully moved his head around to give you a hard time.

A tiny giggle erupted from his throat, too, making your smile linger for a little longer before he bid his thanks, inhaling a huff of the smoke and exhaling it through his nose.

“Hmmm,” he hummed as he cleared his throat. By now you were leaning against the sink with no intention of washing the dishes any time soon. No intention of leaving the kitchen, either.

“C’mere,” he offered, reaching for your chin in the same way you did to him earlier before inching closer to your face.

“Wonbin-”

“Just part your lips for me, okay?” He asked in a light voice, “I want you to try it with me.”

You nodded at his words, hesitantly parting your lips as he slowly set the blunt between the opening you allowed for him.

“Okay now seal your lips,” he said, licking his own, “and inhale… slowly.”

You obeyed his words, taking a steady breath in as the warm and cloudy smoke filled your mouth… then your stomach… then your senses.

“Oh, shit,” you cursed, coughing at the way the smoke hit the back of your throat, to which Wonbin only laughed at your reaction.

“Good job, newbie,” he teased, running you a glass of water before passing it to you, your teary eyes staring back at him in a mix of embarrassment, regret, and intrigue.

“How was hitting it,” he asked, pearly eyes staring back at you.

“Just as bad as I thought,” you admitted.

“Yeah… they effects will start kicking in pretty fast, too,” he chuckled, proceeding to take a huff from the same blunt. “But,” he started, voice falling to an alto, “you know that wasn’t free, right?”

“Excuse me?” You asked, watching as he lazily cradled the joint in his two fingers.

“I only do favors for Roxie because we’re chill like that…,” he paused, biting his lip derisively as he tilted his head, “I hardly know you, though.”

You didn’t even bother checking your pockets because you knew you came empty handed.

“Aww, what is it, baby?,” he cooed, turning your chin to face him again as he took another huff from the joint.

“I didn’t bring any cash with me, unfortunately,” you replied with a halfhearted expression, already feeling yourself get dizzy.

He noticed the way you began to tear up even more from the smoke he was now gently blowing in your face.

“You’re eyes look pretty right now,” he smiled, staring way harder than he should’ve, “how do you feel?”

All of a sudden your core starting to heat up, making your legs feel as though you were merely hovering over the floor. You didn’t feel grounded anymore because you were overcome with a feeling of light.

“A little warm,” you started dryly, “but like… numb and euphoric at the same time.”

“In here?” He asked, placing a hand on your upper stomach, resting dangerously close to your tits.

“No…. It’s uh… a bit lower,” you said, reaching for his wrist before pulling his hand away from you.

That’s when you caught a glimpse of a colorful splash decorating his wrist. “That’s pretty,” you smiled, adoring the tattoo from afar.

“You think so?” He asked sarcastically before whispering in your ear, “too bad compliments won’t pay my bills.”

You sighed at his words, watching as he braced his body weight on the counter before your right hand found a mind of it’s own, reaching out to trace a line up his defined abdomen.

“Then allow me to repay you in another way,” you offered, poking his flesh with your nail a bit, “you like my cooking, don’t you?”

“Very much so, yes. But you could try pleasing me somewhere else… ‘A bit lower,’ like you said,” he whispered seductively, eyes in a daze as he guided your hand by your delicate wrist to the center of his belt buckle, a line of hair leading to the bulge buried behind his baggy jeans.

A thick vein trailed from his thumb to his forearm before his grip left your wrist.

“Wanna take a closer look?” He offered, drawing your attention back to the colorful spot on his skin even though your first mind thought he was talking about something naughtier.

“Sure,” you answered quietly, taking his hand again to examine the design, “a butterfly?”

“A moth, actually… it’s a little more masculine if you ask me,” he added, the shadow of a proud smile ghosting over his lips.

“But it has watercolored eyes,” you pointed out.

“True… So it’s like.. more ambiguous I guess?”

“Maybe… or it could just be a beautiful man,” you voiced, stroking over his skin with the pad of your thumb.

You liked this.

The look of his skin, but more so the way it felt.

The way touching him made you feel.

“Uhmmmm, guys?,” Shotaro cried out from the living room, the energy in his voice breaking the stillness of the moment, “I’m pretty sure Sungchan and Roxie are about to start fucking each other in a few seconds, and I could use a little help in here!”

You and Wonbin made eye contact at Shotaro’s words, the same thought filling both your heads:

“What?”

“Just get in here, quickly! They’re taking each others clothes off!!!”

“FUCK, MY STOMACH still hurts like a bitch from laughing so hard yesterday night,” Roxie sighed, cheeks a flushed hue either from the three shots of brandy she just guzzled or the three comforters she was wrapped in on her side of your shared room.

“Yeah… I had a great time hanging out with everyone,” you said, only half-present as other thoughts floated around in your mind.

Thoughts about when you would get to see Wonbin again?

What you two would even do?

How Roxanne would react if she knew Wonbin had been stuck in your mind like gum on a-

“What the hell are you thinking about?”

Oh shit.

“Uhm… Nothing, why?”

“It’s gotta be something,” Roxie pressed, staring at you from across the room through her false eyelashes, “you were moaning in your sleep last night with that same look on your face.”

Wow. She was quite a fast talker for someone so tipsy.

“I was?”

“Mhm,” she smirked cheekily, trailing a finger along the knitted seam of her bed sheet.

“Tell me who you were thinking about… I’ll know if you’re lying, too,” she pressed.

“I was just… gosh, why is that making me so flustered,” you sighed, hiding your face in your pillows.

“C’mon, spit it out, ____!”

“I was thinking about Wonie, okay?,” you finally admitted, hoping it would make her shut up.

“Hmm…,” she started with a satisfied smirk, “you’ve already starting calling him by a nickname, I see… what’s up with that?”

“Nothing at all,” you smiled aggressively, watching as she spread herself out on the mattress like a star fish, “would you like me to call Sungchan over to keep you company while I’m out?”

“He’s already on his way over, silly,” she smiled, flexing her fingers around nothing, “wait, where are you going, anyway?”

“Nowhere special… probably just gonna talk a walk around campus. But don’t worry, I’ll wait for your boyfriend to get here before I leave.”

She pouted at your words, lower lip poking out like a baby, “Aww… stupid… big dick Sungie’s my boyfriend… ehehe…”

SUNGCHAN SHOWED UP shortly after you managed to get Roxanne back to bed. Praying that they wouldn’t end up fucking in your bedroom while you were gone, you put on a jacket with hopes of taking that walk to clear your head, even though now you simply hit a joint to calm your nerves.

That’s when you heard a pair of footsteps approaching from outside your door, just as you were about to zip up your winter boots.

Knock, knock, knock.

A a warm feeling erupted in your stomach, making your fingers freeze at your ankles.

Standing up to peek through the door-hole, you saw Wonbin’s plump lips first, before his bright brown eyes stared back at you.

Shit, why was he here?

“Hey, I can hear you breathing from behind the door… well, whoever you are,” he giggled, which made you giggle a bit too.

There’s no way you were gonna get out of this now, but you still counted down from ten before opening the door.

“Hi,” you smiled, letting him in, “don’t know how you got on campus, let alone to my dorm room, but okay.”

“I’m friends with Roxie, remember?”

“Yes, but I don’t remember you visiting here before… like, ever.”

Even if he had, it’s not like you’d be able to forget a face or presence like his.

“Nice shirt, by the way,” you teased, poking him in the stomach to which he smiled.

That terribly cute smile of his.

“Yeah I uh… wear them sometimes,” he replied, adjusting the beanie he wore before speaking again, “Where is she, anyway?”

“Pretending to be asleep so I can cuddle with her while she sucks on me… well… not there but… nevermind,” Sungchan interupted, walking from the room with now disheveled hair.

“Hell, I left for like three seconds, what happened,” you asked, observing the fresh purple bruise on Sungchan’s neck.

“Roxie gets unbelievably horny whenever she’s drunk for some reason, and I refuse to do anything with her when half of her mind is on fucking mars,” he sighed, going to the fridge and pulling out a can of soda.

“She’s lucky I let her do this much… Wait- I thought you said you weren’t coming?” Sungchan said to Wonbin with a suspicious look.

So Wonbin was invited to your place. How fun.

“Ahh, I changed my mind out of boredom...”

“Right,” Sungchan nodded while walking to the front door, “I’ve gotta go get a lighter from my truck, but I’ll be back if Roxie asks for me.”

“Hey uh, me and ____ can go get it for you if you want,” Wonbin offered, flashing you a look.

“Really, I mean I parked pretty far away, but-”

“It’s fine, really, I saw where your truck on my way here.“

“____?” Sungchan said your name as if searching for your approval, to which you nodded which a humble, “Yeah, I don’t mind.”

“Alright then, go ahead. But take your time though so you don’t slip and break your asses…”

WONBIN LOOKED IN the roof compartment of Sungchan’s truck, just as the lighter fell down, slipping between the small crack in the seat.

“Shit,” he cursed upon trying to reach for it, “my hands too big to get it.”

“Hey, I can try getting it for you,” you offered, watching as he made room for you to take his place in the vehicle.

The drawstring of your underwear clinging to your hips as your shirt fell down your waist with gravity.

“Are you wearing a thong?” Wonbin asked, cold index finger hooking with the thin strap of your panties before pulling back and releasing it with a snap.

“Ahh, what the hell, Won!,” You yelped, retreating from the seat to swat his hands from you, “you’re supposed to be helping me!”

“No, we’re supposed to be helping Sungchan. Now get back to work,” he order you playfully, pointing back down to where the lighter fell.

You shook your head, bending back over in an attempt to retrieve the lighter once again.

He was only teasing you because he wanted to see more of your personality.

He couldn’t say that things were moving fast between you thanks to the inevitably awkward grounds your first impression of each other was cultivated upon, but he still wanted to get past the shy stage.

Skip all of the a baby steps and just start running with you.

Weakened grunts fell from your lips as you desperately fished for the lighter, your hips looking a mere second from bursting through your tight jeans given the position you were in.

“Shit,” Wonbin cursed under his breath, feeling a sense of warmth grow on his cheeks as he darted his eyes away from you.

“Oh,” you said with a muffled sounding voice.

“Um, y-yeah? What’s up?” He stuttered, still looking off into the distance.

“I’ve got the lighter… And some spare change,” you chirped, clasping the findings in your hand before reaching a foot down cautiously.

“Isn’t that stealing?” Wonbin teased, finally looking back to only see your foot slipping on the wet condensation from the truck’s running board.

“____, watch your step!” He called out with a slightly raised voice, his hands finding your waist to protect your fall, which only led to you both tumbling down together.

A strained groan erupted from Wonbin’s throat as his back hit the cold hard ground first, your body weight falling onto his center as your hands hit the gravel, slightly scuffing your skin.

You hadn’t even realized that your eyes were closed the entire time until you finally opened them, the coins you held being scattered about as Wonbin’s wide bunny eyes scanned you with shock.

His arms framed his head, nose a little red from the weather and a sprinkle of snowflakes dusting his black beanie.

“Are you…are you okay?,” he started, voice trailing off as it finally clicked in his mind that you were straddling him on the ground, essentially in public.

He couldn’t pin a finger on what it was about you that made him feel all shy like this, especially whenever he wasn’t buzzed.

“I-I’m… uh… I’m fine,” you stuttered, freeing him of your body weight and extending a hand to help him up.

“Thank you,” he huffed, a puff of cold air escaping his mouth before circling around your warm bodies, “I told you to watch your step….”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that those stupid coins distracted me,” you shivered, just now feeling the effects of the weather as goosebumps sprouted on your skin, “At least I got the lighter, though!”

Wonbin chuckled, both at your enthusiastic words and the uncanniness of this moment, taking off his beanie and adjusting it over your head before closing the door to Sungchan’s truck, pulling you close to him by the shoulder.

“Alright… let’s get back inside before we both freeze to death.”

AFTER GOING BACK inside, Sungchan had somehow managed to get Roxie out of bed, the four of you sitting on the couch while watching a random movie till midnight.

It all brought you a strange sense of déjà vu. You and Wonbin sitting awkwardly together while Roxie and her Sungchan sat like Siamese twins. The only thing missing, aside from some good home cooked food, was Shotaro’s infectious smile and a recreational drug in your system.

A soul booster.

You had gotten lost in your thoughts again, not even realizing when Roxie kissed Sungchan goodnight before he headed home.

Nor when Wonbin pretended to be sleep so no one would wake him as you slept peacefully on his shoulder.

Nor how he left your side once Roxie went to her room to sleep, reaching for the dust-ridden acoustic guitar hiding in a corner of your loft after a long forgotten ex-roommate left it behind as a “farewell” gift.

Nor the warm and woody melody he started to play from the other end of the couch, the gentle hums from his throat luring your busy mind from its slumber.

Your eyes opened with lazy blinks, vision slowly keening in on the lit joint that hung from his mouth, the sound of his fingers sliding against the fretboard and strings sending shivers down your spine.

Or maybe that had more to do with the winter air thrumming through your dorm room's cheap windows.

From the look outside, you’d guess it was sometime around 1am.

The stars were sparkling in the sky and the world beneath almost dead quiet.

“Oh- sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Wonbin said in a half-whisper, noticing the way you were glancing at him before taking the blunt from his mouth.

“Oh, no… it’s okay, I was just… I didn’t mind…” your words trailed off to a mumble as you sat up a little straighter on the couch, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, “What song was that? It sounded really pretty from what I heard.”

“Yesterday… by the Beatles,” he smiled, getting up to set the guitar back in its original place of abandonment, “it would’ve sounded even better though if I had a pick with me.”

He took another huff from the blunt, exhaling through his nose in a familiar manner as he offered it to you, “Want some?”

“Sure,” you shrugged, taking the blunt from his hand before inhaling the herb yourself, though, it was slightly different from the one you had in Wonbin’s kitchen the other night.

“It’s some of Sungchan’s pot,” he said in a husk voice as if reading your mind, “Don’t go too crazy though, ‘cause his shit’s pretty strong.”

He peeked at you through his wavy bangs, waiting for a cough from you that never came.

“Are you buzzed yet?” You asked after taking another huff or two yourself, playing with the smoke in your mouth before blowing it out slowly.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “don’t know how I managed to play a full song, but... yeah... I'm trashed.”

“It must be a talent, I guess,” you hummed at his words, just now noticing the lit candles sitting at random areas in the kitchen and living room.

Good thing, because it helped to drown out the scent of marijuana.

“What else are you good at doing while high?”

His tongue clicked at the roof of his mouth as a subtle yet unmistakable smirk creeped on his face, perfectly matching the rosy hue that began to stain his cheeks.

“You thought of something dirty, didn’t you?”

“Maybe…” he chuckled, widening the distance between his legs a bit as he sat.

Was he… teasing you?

Your eyes fell down to the blunt he placed on the ashtray beside the table, it’s lit bud ceasing with a quiet hiss.

“I’m guessing that wasn’t free either, huh?” You joked, shaking your head at yesterday's memory.

“Nope,” he smiled, “but… you still haven’t returned the favor from your first hit, so I won’t be too mean for now.”

Of course he’d bring that up again.

Right here, right now as you sat mere inches in distance from each other, both buzzed out of your minds.

“And if you were to be mean,” you started hesitantly, biting your lower lip before continuing, “what would that look like?”

He thought on your words carefully before answering, “Well, I doubt it’ll ever come to that anyway, so don't worry about it.”

“Oh, and is it the weed making you confident all of a sudden?”

“No, just the simple fact that you’ll pretty much do anything I tell you to.”

You scoffed, “That’s crazy talk.”

“Is it?“ he pressed, inching closer to you. "Kiss me,” he said, lips just a gentle wind's push from touching yours.

You didn’t budge, but your heart beat escalated all the same.

“Cute,” he smirked, his large hand finding the length of your neck, gliding up to your jawline as his thumb toyed with your lower lip. “I can see it all over your face that you want me, ____.”

“Then why are you asking for it?,” you teased.

“Because I wanted to hear you say it first… even though I already knew you’d let me do this,” he whispered, closing the space between you with a kiss, his warm mouth engulfing yours as the scent of his woody cologne filled your senses.

His other hand found your lower back, pulling you impossibly close to him as the sound of both your hearts beating and his needy grunts consumed you.

Much like the watercolor moth on his wrist, Wonbin’s gentle and vibrant masculinity couldn’t get any more precious in this moment.

This is exactly what he was looking forward to, whether he decided to guise it under the façade of a favor or be completely straight up with you, he finally got you right where you wanted.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you tugged a bit, desperate to hear more of his pretty sounds before the shadow of a smile wavered over Wonbin’s face at your actions, up until he felt your knee bump his hard-on through his pants, causing him to hiss.

“You’re being rough with me,” he said in between kissing your mouth, his hot and thick tongue darting past your lips as the kiss become messier.

Louder.

“And?” You asked, pulling away from his lips before leaving a trail of wetness down his neck, paying extra attention to a spot that made him twitch in his seat.

“And it’s so fucking hot,” he almost moaned when your teeth grazed his skin, his back meeting the couch arm as you subconsciously grinded your hips against his pants, straddling him.

“Is this how you wanted me earlier,” you said, stopping your movements, “when we were outside in the cold?”

By now his shirt was off and your fingers unbuckling his belt with gentle clinking sounds from the metal.

“No,” he said in an impossibly deep voice, looking dead at you as he spoke, “My first mind wanted to fuck you silly in the backseat… but I couldn’t to that to you.”

You giggled at his choice of words given how high you were, shimmying his pants down a bit further before halting at the waistband of his boxers, palming him gently through the fabric.

“Why not?” You asked in a soft voice, contrasting with the fierce grip you had on his clothed shaft.

“Because... even though you’re being an impossible tease right now, I felt like you deserved better than to be fucked in your best friends boyfriend's truck,” he said with a shaky voice, gripping at the couch to contain himself.

You appreciated his consideration in your heart, but didn’t wanna say anything out loud, especially not while your hands were on him like this.

And thank God for these thick curtains, otherwise the whole world would’ve seen how red his throbbing tip looked after finally being freed from the restrictions of his boxers.

You started at the base of his length before gliding upwards, spitting on the head that was already leaking a bit of his early release.

You started to pump him slowly, pearly white precum standing out as it mixed with your clear spit like watercolor.

“Use your mouth for me,” he almost begged, eyes falling victim to a blurry haze as his knuckles turned white with his grip on the cushions.

You teased him a bit by letting your warm breath ghost over his tip, eliciting a groan from him as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

The desperation inside of him only grew from here as your warm and wet lips finally wrapped around him.

You hollowed your cheeks a bit, hands resting at either side of his hips as you began using your tongue to help you take him inch by inch.

“Mmm, feels so fucking good, baby,” he said with a strained voice, his hands finding your head before his thumbs grazed your lips, one of them prying to squeeze itself into your mouth with his already thick cock.

The sight alone was enough to make him buss, so he threw his head back, biting his lip harshly to contain his sounds.

You hummed against his dick, almost feeling it in your chest once his hands pushed your head down further.

He just couldn’t deal with your teasing anymore, wanting to feel you more than he could begin to explain.

He bucked his hips upwards, rutting into your mouth like a bunny in heat. “Aww, fuck,” he cursed, watching the way your eyes glazed with tears.

He always managed to see you crying one way or another, and he loved it every single time.

Your fingernails dug into his sides as the sound of your gagging became hard to miss. He released your head with a sigh, panting as both of your faces burned with heat.

He didn’t expect you to start pumping him again though as soon as your mouth left his cock, but you knew he’d end up missing your warmth in seconds anyways.

“I wasn’t trying to be mean when I did that, by the way,” he sighed, biting his lip as you looked back at him with moist eyelashes, “I just couldn’t hold bac- nghhh~.”

A broken moan escaped his mouth once your hands found his balls, gently cradling them in your hands while alternating with pressures, your other hand still stroking him.

“I’m doing quite the favor for you, Wonbin,” you said with a rasp voice, your throat a bit sore from his actions on top of the smoke you huffed earlier, but he figured it made you sound hotter anyway. “Are you sure I’m not overdoing it?”

“Mmm… no, p-please don’t stop, baby,” he whimpered shamelessly, screwing his eyebrows tightly.

You felt yourself clench around nothing at the nickname, and judging from the way his face changed, you’d bet he noticed.

By now, he could hardly keep still, the muscles in his stomach flexing just as you felt his balls tighten, just as he was finished, chest heaving with need as you rode out his high.

That's when you started to take off your jeans, tossing them in the corner somewhere as he practically drooled at the sight of you in just a baggy top and panties, a dark spot forming at the center of your core where your arousal started to leak through.

“____,” he paused you, bringing you into his lap, your warm core sitting right atop his aching hardness, “you don’t have to go this far if you don’t want to.”

“Well maybe this isn’t just about me owing you anymore,” you whispered, kissing him on the corner of his mouth, “what if I want this?”

His cock stimulated you through your panties as he thought on your words, subconsciously rocking your hips back and forth.

“Then I’ll let you have your way with me…” he said with a rasp whisper, kissing up your neck as one of his hands massaged your tits, his other hand sneaking past your underwear to find your soaking wet clit, rubbing it slowly but with such a pressure that your fingers clung to his broad shoulders.

“I want you to make me feel like I’m falling apart,” he groaned against your skin, spreading your slick all over your aching pussy lips, “I want you to ruin me.”

You didn't waste any time with aligning him at your entrance, sliding down with ease most of the way given how wet you were.

He groaned as your tight walls fully consumed him.

“Fuck~,” you whined, feeling euphorically full as he started thrusting into you, hands gripping at your back as he became overstimulated inside you.

The drugs must've made you feel extra sensitive, especially with the way his tip fucked against your g-spot. You looked into his teary eyes, stoking his face as you helped to bounce with his movements, lewd sounds bouncing off of the walls.

“You’re being so fucking good for me, baby, just like that," he moaned as you clenched around him, too high to give a damn about filling you up raw with thick spurts of his cum.

“Wonie,” you whimpered, feeling as his hands roamed all over your climaxing body.

You felt every part of him in every part of you, and to say the least, it was worth all the awkward moments it took to get here.

THE NEXT MORNING, you woke up with your head resting on Wonbin’s chest, his messy hair spread about his head as you felt his breath faintly on your head. You probably looked like two babies with the way you were cuddling each other under the blanket.

It was a sickeningly cute sight, one might say.

“Sick and twisted,” you heard Shotaro say in the back of your mind, just as Wonbin groaned beneath you with a cat-like yawn.

“I still feel high,” was the first thing he said, making you giggle a little more than necessary before looking him in the face, the effects of your night together ever-present on his face.

“I feel…good,” you smiled.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” you hummed back, peeling yourself from his body as you blinked the tiredness from your eyes.

“You can keep a secret, right?” He asked hesitantly, voice barely audible given how quietly he spoke.

“With my whole life,” you answered, now making eye contact with him which was surprisingly way easier to do than a day ago.

He found your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “We should do each other favors more often… but… maybe not call it that.”

Was he initiating a sexual relationship with you?

Maybe something more?

“Well…” you started curiously, “what would you wanna call it instead, then?”

A grin peeped on his face that quickly softened when he licked his lips, giving your hand a squeeze once again before parting his lips to speak. “Maybe-”

“Fuck,” Roxanne sighed with annoyance, “you horny ducks didn’t blow my candles out last night… now the wax is no good,” she sulked.

“Oh, s-sorry about that, Roxie, we were smoking and it helped the smell,” Wonbin answered first.

“… wait, did you just call us horny ducks?” You asked with a mix of confusion, offense, and realization.

She heard you two.

Hell, of course she did.

“What? You think I didn’t hear Wonbin and his vocal ass practically singing as you did… whatever you did to him…?,” She rambled on, washing her hands in the sink before pulling some from produce from the fridge.

“Oh my God,” Wonbin cringed at himself, covering his face with his hands, though his ears were clearly burning red now.

“The blanket… you brought it in here, didn’t you,” you asked her, just now noticing that it was one she kept at the end of her bed.

“Yep! You’re welcome, freaks,” she chirped through a mouthful of raw celery, drawing your attention to the knife and cutting board she handled, “I’m gonna need your help soon though, ____. We're cooking for a mini get-together later with Taro and Sungchan.”

You hummed at her words, folding up the blanket while thankful that despite how high you two were last night, you managed to put your clothes back on before the sun came up.

“You guys should get cleaned up first, too, by the way,” she said, side-eyeing you as she diced a few green onions. “And preferably not at the same time, please... I’ve heard enough moans for the rest of this week, thanks to you two.”

⚡︎ a/n: I just wanna say thank you to everyone who read this goofy lil piece I wrote !! It's been a while since I wrote something that wasn't requesting, and I had so much fun getting back in my creative mode again !! Hopefully you guys enjoyed it as much as I did huhu !!

📍 check out my NEW RIIZE masterlist

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#riize smut #riize x reader #wonbin smut #wonbin x reader #riize scenarios #park wonbin #jung sungchan #riize hard thoughts #riize hard hours #riize ff

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raitonsfw · 7 months

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𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: | 1 | Nagito was obsessed with your pussy, the slick that leaked from it, and the graces of hope that poured from your precious lips. | 2 | Nagito absolutely adored you – in all of your flowered expressions – and for valentine's day, you both picked out the perfect position for the two of you. | 3 | Maybe Nagito shouldn't of been so condescending during the first trial, because now he was tied up within your grasp and it seemed like you'd never touch him– even if he begged. | 4 | When you first met Nagito, you couldn't stop staring at him– and his thighs that smoothed under his shorts. Now he's lying back for you... letting you do as you please.

warnings: 18+ mdni, fem! reader, smut... | 1 | pussy worship, dirty talk, fingering, cunnilingus, orgasm (reader), petnames (honey, my beautiful hope), nagito likes talking to your pussy. | 2 | lotus position, soft!nagito, loving, sensual, caring sex, orgasm (both), praises, petnames (honey, baby), nagito's a lil clingy, a bit more rough in the end but not by much. | 3 | tied up and submissive, sub!nagito, sdr2!nagito, begging & pleading, edging, mentions of sex toys, teasing, slight degrading, nagito begs for reader to touch him but is refused each time, allusion to first trial (no spoilers except his switch up). | 4 | thigh worship, boyfriend!nagito, body worship, massaging, licking, hickeys, handjob, masturbation, nagito lets you do whatever you want to his thighs as long as he can get off too, slight mention of scars (udg canon)

a/n: i tried to make them as blunt as possible tag wise so we know whose is who though everyone had a fairly different idea in their v-day thirsts so i think were good on that aspect. i had four in total for the lucky boy, making him my lead character. (honestly me too though, im obsessed with him so this wasnt much of a surprise) wc: 600ish each v-day m.list | m.list

thirst count: 4

divider credit: @hitobaby & @firefly-graphics

| 1 |

“Pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

Nagito’s not talking about you– to you even, he’s between your legs. You looked down from where you were planted, laying amongst the soft blankets he had taken the courtesy to place between you and the mattress. His hair was disheveled, some of its white fluff sticking out in different directions on top before falling down against his shoulders in a pale cream. That wasn’t your doing, it was normally like that. But you wished it was your doing– the way he’d whimper out as you pulled on it made you see stars sometimes. But this wasn’t about him, it was about you– as you’re splayed out in front of him, waiting for him to make a luckful gesture.

You whined as his forefinger swiped through the collected arousal that stuck to your folds, but it didn’t push past your entrance and a quiet chuckle sounded from the edge of the bed as you clenched around nothing.

“Ah, she’s crying for me…” He cooed, sucking his finger into the cavern of his mouth and he stared at you for a minute as you calmed yourself down again. “There we go… back to normal?”

“N-Nagito… please do something.” You whimpered, your legs fully spread open and you could feel yourself leaking all over the gray blanket beneath you. Thankfully, you spurred him on a bit and he positioned himself eye level with your cunt now.

“Patience.” He commanded softly, pressing a feathered kiss against your swollen clit. His eyes had fluttered shut with a quiet hum as he tasted you against his tongue, laving at the raised bud languidly. Pleasure washed over you as he finally caved in, after who knows how long– God, he was mean sometimes… all because he wanted to admire every crevice of your body, of your precious pussy.

You felt more of your slick pour out of you, into his open palm that he placed underneath you. Nagito tucked it slightly against your thighs and as the fluid spilled between his fingers, he pulled off your clit with a wet noise to focus on the glistening mess. “Oh, you’re so sensitive… I haven’t even fully touched you yet.”

You were quick to open your mouth, it was obvious he was still praising your leaking hole but as you went to object and plead for him to do something– anything, his fingers slipped inside thoughtfully.

“She’s such a good girl for me…already squeezing the tips of my fingers– Ah!” Nagito let out a surprised sound, a doe look flushing his face, as you started to fuck down against his hand with utter desperation for anything he had to give you. “So needy… for someone like me? Thank you…”

He curled them upwards, grazing over your sweet spot and it took everything in you not to clasp your thigh shut around his arm from the sensation. You were so neurotic, your senses shot to dust as another chuckle echoed off his cottage walls. His other hand rested against your left thigh, it made you shiver as it was cold against your skin and you warmed up to the fact that he was soothing you– Nagito was rubbing soft circles into the flesh of it as he brought you to your high.

“Go on, honey.” He was finally talking to you now, his gray eyes glancing up towards yours and you fell apart against his fingers. He cooed at you through it, soft remarks falling from his lips like ‘that’s it, my beautiful hope’ and ‘did so well, love you so much’ while your pent up arousal leaked all over his palm. You muffled your moan, the back of your hand pressing up against your lips and your eyes squeezed shut as you shuddered into his still caressing fingertips.

It took you a minute to come down from your high and as you did, you noticed Nagito still hovering between your legs– his eyes devout of lust.

“‘M going to clean you up now, hope you don’t mind.”

| 2 |

“You okay?” Nagito asked you, his arms holding you close into his chest. His cock was nestled deep inside you as you huffed out a quiet sigh, adjusting to the position you two agreed upon. Your legs hugged his backside and you were utterly exposed in his eyes as they scanned over your face for any cause of concern.

“Yeah, I’m okay baby.” You nodded with a small smile, bringing one of your hands from his shoulder to his cheek and you leaned in to press a poised kiss against his lips. Nagito hummed into the kiss, his fingertips trailing down your back lovingly as he further deepened the kiss. He hasn’t moved inside you yet, completely entranced in the intimacy that doused the both of you like a spell as both of your eyes had slipped shut– just reveling in the touch of one another. But when you grinded subtly against the length of his cock, he panted into your mouth and his hands slipped down to grab at your waist– an indication he needed to move inside you.

You made the first full move, gently lifting yourself up and planting back down in a gentle manner and he was putty within your arms. A quiet moan left his lips and he tilted his head back, which gave you access to litter his pale neck with hickeys. Nagito held you with one arm now as he leaned back, his other pressing into the mattress to stabilize his movements as he started thrusting up into you now.

“Oh my God… Y/N– you feel so good…” He breathed out, his eyes opening and flickering down towards where you bruised a hickey into his collarbone and his hips stuttered into you as you bit down. You looked up at him through your lashes and he only moaned out more, trying to get you to bounce more on him now. You noticed how his hips rolled right into you, lazy– unhurried and it turned you on even more as you started to let out sounds of your own.

His cock brushed against your sweet spot and your nerves stood straight up, tiny whimpers pouring out of your mouth now as you rocked down in time with his thrusts now. “Nagito– right there, please, do that again…”

“Whatever you want, honey.” His eyes were completely focused on you as you intertwined your hands around the back of his neck and you threaded your fingers into his hair. You pushed his head towards your neck, which he took the leisure to kiss at it– sucked a few marks down it as you bounced earnestly on him now. Every jolt of his cock sent you into a frenzy, your head burying deep in his precious hair to try to hide the fucked out look that spread on your face.

It didn’t last long as he murmured against your skin ‘why’re hiding from me? come back down, i miss you…’ and his hands pulled you down by your shoulders, his cock nestling deep into you. You whimpered out as it pressed directly against your cervix and you could feel the dull pleasure within your tummy as you edged closer to your release.

“C’mon, baby…” Nagito’s fingers traced the swell of your clit and you threw your head back, your walls nearly choking his cock as you came all over it. “T-That’s it, knew you’d do so good for me…”

His thrusts had sped up, fucking you through your orgasm and he was practically bouncing you on his own now, chasing his climax with low groans leaving his lips. “Baby… ‘M so close– just a little more, you can take it.”

His eyes screwed shut moments after and his jaw fell slack as he came in you, lazily pumping into you as he shuddered through his orgasm. Quiet breathy moans escaped him as you felt his cock twitch, his fingers gripping the back of your shoulders in a close hug.

“Love you lots, should do that again soon…” Nagito babbled on afterwards while letting you fall against him in a cuddle, not bothering to pull yourselves fully apart.

| 3 |

Nagito’s eyes brimmed with cupidity from where he was tied up– his legs and arms bound behind him as he tried to roll over to look at you. You had positioned yourself against his back, your palms caressing the sweat that glistened on his chest. You hummed softly as a sob wracked Nagito’s body when you tweaked one of his nipples with lithe fingers, compliant words spilling from his lips.

“Y/N, fuck me already.” The words were nothing but a rasp, his hair fluffing as his head hit the pillow again in defeat when your hand pulled away.

“That’s not how you ask.”

“Please– fuck me please… I’ll do anything–” Nagito groaned and you could see the anguish of his face even as he faced away from you. His cheeks burned with hotness, a flush he couldn’t escape as it trailed down his pale chest. His eyes were squeezed shut in agony as he tried to rut into the mattress, but you wouldn’t let him as you hooked him back by his rope. He let out another whine, tears falling freely from his eyes as he looked back at you with a saddened pout. “Please… I swear– just touch me.”

You smoothed his hair down, threading your fingers through it as you reached for the waistband of his boxers. A short whimper escaped him as you pulled out his cock, aweing at the sight of it lying against his tummy. You felt bad, but then again– who was the one who was being a brat during the first trial? Nagito was lucky he was saved from the cold confines of the ground in the old building, he should be thankful that he was tied against the comfort of your bed.

“Nagito dear…” You cooed, your fingers ghosting over the tip as it dripped precum onto the sheets. He shook with anticipation as he watched them intensely. Oh, the relief he was going to feel when you finally wrapped your hand around his aching cock– he’s been like this for hours now and you hadn’t let up one bit in your teasing.

You’ve driven him on the brink of madness several times, by playing with his nipples and hovering your lips over everywhere you could reach. You’ve showcased your collection of sex toys, buttplugs and whatnot with jewels littering the bed before him and he’d whine for any of them but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of one. You needed to show Nagito that everything wasn’t set in stone– when you act like a condescending asshole, this is to be expected.

And all he wanted was your touch– exactly where you’ve abandoned him. His cock had been flushed red for God knows how long and it was starting to really hurt. Nagito pulled at the rope against his wrists, struggling against them and you tutted at him with a long sigh. “None of that, please. I’ve worked real hard on those knots.”

He instantly obeyed because maybe, just maybe you’d touch him if he was good. Maybe if he begged… “Please, Y/N… I need you. Pleasepleaseplease, need your hand– I’ll be good, I promise. Next trial I’ll be good…”

Next trial? You wiped that thought from your mind as your hand drifted to his cock again. Quiet mutters fell from his lips, more like empty pleads that didn’t make sense and you sighed in defeat as you moved him over to straddle him. You planted yourself right against his knees, taking in the wrecked figure in front of you. Tears stained his cheeks, his dull eyes rimmed with red, and a fucked out expression painted his face as he realized what you were about to do. An unstable, yet warm still leveled his lips.

“Where do you want me to touch you?”

“A-Anywhere…I don’t care–! Thank you…”

| 4 |

When you looked at him the first time, his legs stuck out to you– the tall lengthy figure that sat near the edge of Jabberwock. You didn’t know him then and someone from the island introduced you and all you could think of was how perfect your head would fit between his legs down under. As you shook Nagito’s hand in greeting, you knew you needed to know everything about him, the moon and stars nudging you further.

He wore shorts underneath the dusk, the hotness of the island wafting over the both of you and his hair fluffed with humidity as you two sat against the sand, overlooking the beach. Your eyes would keep drifting towards the plushness of his thighs as he sat criss crossed on the beach, taking in your every word– naturally by the end of the night, you had him wrapped around your finger.

And here he was, pressed back into the divet of your mattress with sighs and pants spilling from his lips. Now you two had a label between you months later and he was entirely open to you, letting you adore his thighs. Your hand had slipped up and down his cock lazily, giving him some friction as you pressed your lips against the flesh of his right thigh. Your other hand fondled at the other, circling the scars that adapted to his skin and you hummed contently.

Nagito knew you loved his thighs, saw you drooling over them the first time you both had met underneath the darkened sun. And he was intrigued, so he bit at the line you fed him and this is where it got him– you practically praising, worshipping him like he was an esteemed deity– all for the granted hope of his body.

He was lucky.

“Y/N…” You heard from above you and your eyes met his, glancing up quickly and taking in his lust rimmed eyes. “Admiring me again?”

You nodded, your tongue darting out to lap at a bruise you made a few hours prior when you had him splayed out for you before breakfast. You sped up your hand that encased his cock in pleasure, a sharp inhale emitting from him. “And what about it?”

“Ah- N-Nothing…” He groaned out, his head falling back onto the pillows with a slight arch in his back. You smoothed your hand over his milky thigh once again, suckling a new mark into the soft flesh and you felt Nagito jolt a bit. You hazily giggled as his lengthy hand wrapped around yours on his cock.

He practically gave you permission to bury your face between his thighs as he lightened his grip to let you pull away, both of your hands now pillowing against his thighs– you were so thankful as he pressed them slightly together, your cheek resting against one of them as you toyed with the other.

Nagito’s hand sped up on himself as you pinched softly, the sharp sting running through his spine and you heard his breathing get more raspier. His hand movements had gotten sloppier too, more uncoordinated as you licked a heavy stripe up the inside of his thigh.

You clenched your legs together as you felt his body tremble, nearing his orgasm and you felt as though you could watch him from this angle forever. His pale slender thighs shook like a leaf as he fell apart, spurting all over his hand with a quiet gasp and you tried your best to contain yourself.

But once Nagito came down from his high, your teeth were nipping at his thighs again– your hands massaging near his hips and he happily let you do as you pleased.

#𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝑒'𝓈 𝓋𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈 ꨄ #𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚜 ☾#danganronpa smut #danganronpa x y/n #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa x you #danganronpa komaeda #nagito komaeda x reader #komaeda x reader #nagito x y/n #nagito x reader #nagito x you #komaeda nagito #komaeda smut #nagito smut #nagito komaeda smut #nagito komaeda #fem reader #𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 ✰

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moonstruckme · 11 months

Note

poly!marauders x reader where reader and james go out drinking and reader ends up out drinking james completely and reader and james go home to be looked after by sirius and remus <3

Thanks for requesting!

cw: drunkenness, mention of vomit

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

“Fucking hell,” Sirius says as soon as he opens the door.

You turn to James, giggles breaking up your words. “F-fookin’ ‘ell,” you mimic, and James promptly falls to the ground.

“Moony,” Sirius calls over James’ laughter, not bothering to hide his own smile. “You may want to come see this.”

By the time Remus appears at the door, you’ve joined James on the ground, felled by your own joke, and the sight of your two sober boyfriends looking down on you both only worsens your giggle fit. Tears leak from both of your eyes. James clutches at your sleeve, wheezing.

Remus says something to Sirius, and then the dark-haired boy is grabbing you under your arms, hauling you across the threshold of your apartment. It takes both of them to get James inside. By the time they do, you’ve calmed and are watching with a dazed amusement from where you’re propped up against the back of the couch.

They sit James next to you. Sirius squats in front of you both. “You two have a fun night?” he asks.

You bob your head, but the motion makes you feel odd, so you stop. “Really fun. You guys should’a come.”

“Great time,” James agrees.

Remus hums, and you can’t decide if he looks exasperated or amused. You decide to simply hope for the latter. “But if we’d had as much fun as you, there’d be no one to take care of you, would there?” James seems to consider this, lips pulling down into a frown. “How’d you end up like this?” Remus asks you.

You’re eager to tell. James opens his mouth, but you press your palm to it before he can speak. “I drank more than him,” you tell Sirius and Remus proudly. “He said he could drink more than me, but he couldn’t.”

“No,” James insists, taking your hand by the wrist and peeling it from his face. “That’s not true, you had five and I had six. That’s math. I won!”

You make a pfft sound, giving him a condescending look. “Yeah, but you threw up and I didn’t. So I won.”

James opens his mouth to argue, but Remus speaks before he can. “I don’t think either of you are going to feel like you won in the morning,” he determines, turning and walking away.

“Oi, where are you going?” Sirius looks helplessly after him. “Don’t leave me alone with them!”

“I’m getting them water,” Remus calls back.

“He’s such a worrier,” you lament to James.

He nods agreeably. “Total worrier."

“Can’t have any fun.”

"Never.”

“You two are even worse like this,” Sirius decides. You swing your attention to him. The streetlight coming in through the window gleams against his dark hair, which you know from experience is fluffy and soft as puppy ears. He looks ridiculously pretty, as he always does, lips pulled up on one side in an amused almost-smile. You want to kiss it, you think sorrowfully. Then you remember that he’s your boyfriend, and you can.

“Kiss?” you ask him. Sirius’ almost-smile transitions smoothly into a real one.

“Sure thing, angel.” He leans forward, cupping your face in one hand as he pecks you chastely on the lips. You whine at his temperance, bringing your fingers into that silken hair to pull him closer for more. Sirius obliges you, kissing you a few more times before drawing back, his thumb stroking your jaw consolingly.

“You taste like vodka,” he says fondly.

“James tastes worse.”

Something changes in Sirius’ expression. “You kissed him?”

You pout. “Of course. I love him.”

Sirius’ laugh is startled and a little wary. “I know, baby, but I mean after he got sick.”

You nod. Sirius’ mouth becomes a shriveled, puckered thing.

“Right.” Remus pats him sympathetically on the back, passing you a cup of water. You look over to see James already has one, half drained. “So, everyone will be brushing their teeth before bed, if there was ever any question.”

“Gross,” Sirius mutters miserably. Remus rubs between his shoulder blades.

“Did you get sick on yourself at all, love?” he asks James, scrutinizing the curls nearest his face.

James shakes his head, and Remus looks to you for confirmation.

“He got—” You hiccup. Remus’ mouth quirks up just a tiny bit. “He got it all in the bin. I saw.”

“Good,” he says, petting James’ hair as you both drink. “Let’s go to bed, then, yeah?”

You don’t want that. You’re a bit tired, but you’re not ready for the night to be over so soon. “I want to watch a film,” you say.

Remus sighs, looking at you in that way he does when patience seems more an obligation than a virtue. “Sweetheart, we—”

“Wait,” James cuts him off. “Wait wait wait.”

He holds up a hand to cease all conversation. You look at him. He opens his mouth as if to say something, and belches loudly. Sirius recoils, face all screwed up.

“If we go to bed,” James goes on, nonplussed, “can we cuddle?”

Remus appears to consider this. You perk up. It’s an intriguing prospect. “We can,” he decides, and you and James both grin, “but you have to finish your water and brush your teeth first. Okay?”

You both agree readily, and James hauls himself up using the back of the couch before offering you a hand.

“I’ve got her, Prongs,” Sirius tells him, wrapping an arm around your waist and standing with you held against him. You blink at the return to your full height. Everything up here seems a bit spinnier than you’d left it.

Sirius grunts when you lean on him more heavily. “Doing alright, doll?”

“Mm, bit dizzy,” you admit. Sirius adjusts his grip around your waist so he can take more of your weight.

“Yeah?” he asks you, sounding worried.

“Yeah,” you say, then see an opportunity. You grin. “Must be swooning. Right? Because you’re so handsome.”

His laughter shakes you both, and he brings you into the bathroom, helping you up onto the counter, where you sit with the cool glass of the mirror at your back. “You’re a dork.”

“It’s why you love me.” You smize at Sirius as he passes you your toothbrush, holding it somewhat steady while he applies the toothpaste.

“Do I?” He raises his eyebrows at you. “You've just kissed me with vomit mouth.”

You pout, and Remus chuckles, keeping a cautious hand on James’ back as he leans over to kiss the top of your head. “We love you,” he promises.

You look at James. He grins at you through a mouthful of toothpaste. “How lucky are we?"

2K notes · View notes

dollfacefantasy · 7 months

Text

Time to Kill

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!reader

summary: during a night out at a club, you bump into a bounty hunter who has some time to kill.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, heavy dub-con, p in v, fingering, degradation, size kink, public sex, biting, mentions of murder, violence, death, guns, crime, etc.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: i will be back to RE after this i just wanted to try something new :) reblogs and comments mean the world <3 for @nexysworld and @kaitkatme cause they put me on jjk and i love them.

“Watch it, bounty hunter,” you scoff, eyes shooting a glare up at the guy who bumped into you and nearly knocked you down.

He returns your sneer with his own, staring down at you with condescending irritation. The fact that he towers over you is almost enough to make you regret the jab, but you bank on being in a crowded nightclub to keep you safe.

His hair hangs down into his eyes, making it harder to see his expression in the already dark hall. Regardless, you feel his gaze raking over your curves before fixating on your face.

“Maybe you should watch it, princess,” he responds. Even his voice sounded skeevy.

The unaffected smirk on his face doesn’t elude you either despite the dim lighting. You roll your eyes and snake past him, brushing the confrontation off in hopes of still enjoying your night. Your first move is going back to the bar and downing a few more drinks. Then you make your way back to the main area to dance.

Your hips sway to the blaring music while the lights overhead bathe your skin in a red tint. The music pounds in the ground beneath you, up through your legs and into your heart. You let your head fall back and get lost in the sound of the drums. Everyone around you seems to be doing the same, bobbing to the rhythm. A sea of strangers moving together.

But as all that happens in your vicinity, you can still feel a set of eyes on you. You sense that same gaze from the hall, watching you as if you were prey ready to be pounced on. Acting as if you’re still moving purely to the song, you twist your head to the side and look around. As you expect, you catch his focus and with him in a brief stare.

You keep moving though, trying to ignore it. Maybe he was still pissy. Maybe he was bored. Either way, it really wasn’t any of your concern. He was none of your business beyond the altercation in the hall. And in your defense, you didn’t even actually know that he was a bounty hunter. You’d only heard rumors about him, the guy with the scar on his lip. He just had that look about him.

It didn’t really matter. The liquor was starting to get to your head. You felt less stable on your feet as you moved your body in between the others making up the crowd. Everything was bright and loud, the seams on your top were scratchy, and your head was swimming.

You begin pushing through people, stumbling towards the bathroom as you need a reprieve from all the action. Your attention is on not tripping or breaking your ankle in the tall shoes you wore, so you don’t notice his figure slithering through the room alongside you.

You walk down that same hallway you’d run into him the first time. Teetering back and forth, you push open the bathroom door. Two stalls stand opposite from the door with a mirror and a set of sinks next to them. You shuffle in towards the countertops, both palms landing on the cool surface. There’s red neon lights in the bathroom too. You have to squint while staring at your reflection.

As you glance over yourself, you realize your sleeve is slipping off your shoulder, and your skirt is a little twisted out of place. You adjust your outfit before leaning closer to the mirror for further inspection. You’re shimmery with a light sheen of sweat, but there’s nothing you can do about that right now. Instead you pull out your lipgloss and swipe it across your pout with a few lazy strokes.

You’re busy tending to your appearance when the door behind you flies open. Your eyes flit to the reflection of the man who walked in. It was that guy. He looked even larger in the confined space of the bathroom. The red lighting shines directly on him, highlighting how his arms bulge as they emerge from his shirt, the way the fabric sits tight on his defined torso. To be real, he was starting to grow on you. But that must have been the drinks talking.

“Wrong bathroom, dumbass,” you say with a roll of your eyes. The drinks were responsible for that line too, dulling the fear that would have overtaken your nerves earlier.

“The other bathroom doesn’t have you in it, does it?” he asks, slipping inside and letting the door shut behind him.

He’s still against the wall parallel to the mirror. You eye him curiously, not making any sudden moves. In sober circumstances, you would be absolutely terrified. Your heart would be pounding, vision blurry, and hands shaking with anxiety at the prospect of a strange guy cornering you in the bathroom. But right now, you just had a muted uncertainty in the pit of your stomach.

“What do you want with me?” you ask, attempting to seem unamused, “Did I hurt your feelings?”

“It’s cute that you think that’s even a possibility,” he responds.

A smirk rises on his face as he steps closer to you. You can nearly feel his body against your back. His face remains clearly visible in the mirror as he stands at least an entire head higher than you. It was obvious from the start, but at this proximity, it was impossible to escape how big he was. Chills erupt across your skin as his hands coast up your arms and rest on your shoulders.

“You weren’t far off the mark before anyways,” he says.

You try to shrug him off, but his hands stay firmly in place. His eyes are locked onto your body, his current target. You were getting a little more jittery, but it wasn’t totally out of fear. Your fingers fumble as you jam your lip gloss back into your clutch.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you reply.

Beyond the strange mixture of emotions inside you, this conversation begins to grow annoying. Remarks that brush past each other instead of making direct hits. And he’s still so fucking smug. It's grating. Apparently your displeasure is visible since he chuckles and runs his fingertips down your jawline.

“Aw, look at that face,” he mocks, fingers coming up to hold your jaw, “Good to know you’re cute while pouting too.”

“What do you want?” you ask with more anger. You try to pry his hand away from your chin, but his grip is tight. There’s no getting it off.

“Impatient,” he chides, though his eyes don’t hold any irritation, “I just thought I’d check on you. Isn’t really safe for a girl like you to wander off all alone. Someone may want to take advantage.”

You try to turn around to push him away, but his hips have yours pinned to the countertop.

“Lucky for you, I have some time to kill before my real work starts,” he says.

His other hand drifts up to your chest, digits lightly dragging over your right breast, slowly moving closer and closer to the center. You hate your body in that moment for the way your nipples instinctively stiffen up beneath your top. Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to notice. Or at least he doesn’t point it out if he does.

“My nerves go crazy before a hit, y’know? I could use some stress relief,” he purrs in your ear, “Judging by how riled up you get, I think you could too.”

A shiver shoots up your spine while arousal simultaneously swirls between your legs. You glare at him through the reflection, but there’s no physical resistance this time. He was really growing on you now. He was pissing you off for sure, but it was starting to circle around to the point where you wanted to take out that rage in a more carnal manner. It doesn’t help when he continues speaking.

“The way you were dancing, I know you wanted someone to notice. Showing that tight ass off, just begging for some attention. Well, you have all of mine now,” he breathes, punctuating his statement with a light smack on your backside.

Heat creeps up your neck as he speaks. It was difficult to prevent yourself from being flustered in these circumstances, but you couldn’t just give in to this shithead. You had to still have some fight in you, right? Trying to keep your voice as firm as possible, you challenge him. “I don’t want it.”

With that simple statement, you jab your elbow back into his abdomen, allowing you to spin around. But that’s all you can do because he acts as if the move didn’t hurt him at all. His hand comes back to your jaw with a harsher grasp. Still despite the rough movements, he doesn’t seem to be bothered by your attempts at rejection.

“Too bad,” he states simply. He boosts you up onto the counter, using your neck as leverage. He slots himself between your legs to keep them spread and maintains eye contact the whole time. “Pretty little brat like you needs someone to show you your place.”

His hand delves between your thighs, pressing against your panties. He watches you closely as he strokes you over the fabric. You tense up a bit at first, a shaky breath exiting your lungs. It felt good obviously, but it was still weird. And on top of that, you couldn’t understand why he wasn’t just getting to the point and taking what he wanted.

He registers the confusion on your face and leans down closer to you. His breath fans across your neck. You can feel his lips brushing your ear.

“I’m not in a rush,” he says simply, “Got some time before my guy gets here. Rather play with you for a bit longer than wait around out there.”

He continues rubbing you through the cloth that separates your skin. He’s breathing heavier as he speeds up his movements, inhaling the scent of your perfume mixed with the liquor you’d both had. A breathy whine leaves you as his middle finger flicks over your clit. You hear him hum in approval before he lowers his head more and lays some sloppy kisses on your neck. He leaves some love bites, more to occupy himself than anything else. His teeth nip at the skin while his tongue laves over the mini bruises.

You’re starting to soak through your underwear. He knows it. He can feel it. The lacy fabric clings to your folds more, letting him feel more of you. A sharp puff of hot air comes from his nostrils, sending a chill over you as it hits the wet skin on your throat.

“You’ve been aching for this since your little tantrum, haven’t you? Probably could’ve fucked you right out there in front of everyone, and you wouldn’t have said a word. Except maybe ‘more,’” he says, his voice low and smooth with his own arousal.

“No,” you object out of instinct. Your words contradict the way your hips begin to buck against his fingers, itching for him to rip your panties off.

“Yes,” he chuckles, taking your hint and pulling the damp article of clothing down.

His fingers slide through your wetness freely now. You sigh with some semblance of relief. Your head rests against the mirror, and you can only imagine the sinful image displayed in the glass right now. You spread open for this man who looms above you.

You shake your head lazily in response to him. Your already-intoxicated mind becomes less focused as the simmer of pleasure starts melting away the functioning parts of your brain.

“Yeah. Just tell me this. Do you do this often, or is it something special about me?” he mocks.

Your response is cut short as he slips two fingers inside you. You gasp at the stretch. You’re pretty sure you’ve had dick before that was the same size as this guy's warm-up. You spread your trembling legs wider for him as your teeth briefly sink into your bottom lip.

“Just shut up,” you whimper, eyes flutter closed as he massages your walls.

“If I had to bet, I’d say this is the first time. You’re all shaky for me,” he teases and gently laps at your pulse point, “And I can feel your heart ready to beat out of your chest.”

He was right about that. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, thumping through all of your body. Your cheeks burn as he continues pumping in and out of your cunt. You tighten up around him, eyes fluttering at the sensation between your legs. Your slick gathers on his fingers and drips down to the marble under you.

“It’s cute really, knowing you’re not always such a slut,” he goes on.

You whine, loud enough that it echoes around the bathroom. His fingers curl within you, leading you towards the edge. One of your hands is flat on the counter, keeping you up right. The other is clasped around his wrist, your nails forming little red crescents on the skin. They dig in harsher as he keeps speaking.

“Like you better when you’re quiet,” you say between mewls and moans.

“I’d say the same for you if you weren’t making all those cute noises,” he says and starts thrusting his fingers in harder, “Got an innocent little thing like you moaning like a pornstar for me.”

Your head spins as the noise of his fingers inside your pussy starts to fill the bathroom. Your ear rests on your shoulder as you slump to the side in your drunken, lust-fueled haze. He just keeps on with his motions, working you right to the brink. Only when you’re writhing and whining like you’re about to lose it, does he stop and pull his digits out of you completely.

A noise of shock and frustration leaves you as your eyes narrow. He cracks a smile, highlighting that scar on his lip. He then tugs you off the counter by your hips. You nearly topple over, but he stabilizes you and walks you to the wall with the door, perpendicular to the mirror. He shoves you against the hard surface, engulfing your body with his own.

He’s breathing against the side of your head, rutting his hips into yours and letting you feel his hardened bulge. You could already tell it was big. One set of fingers holds your head against the wall while the other maintains a bruising grip on your waist.

“Acting pretty fuckin’ needy for someone who didn’t want it,” he grunts.

You catch your own eyes in the mirror and the image before you only has you getting more turned on. He’s all over you, grinding his hips and teasing himself with your flesh. His cheeks are stained with a light pink tint from the combination of desire and exertion. He reaches up and runs a hand through his hair, pushing the inky black locks out of his eyes. That same hand then ventures South.

He pushes up your skirt over the swell of your ass, bunching it near the small of your back. After a second of admiration, he pulls his cock out. At your current angle, you don’t get a clear view, but from what you do see of how his fist is wrapped around it, you know your expectations are correct.

He taps it against your ass teasingly, and you feel the weight of it. It’s heavy and warm, leaking a bit from the swollen tip. He slides it down and slips it between your thighs. It rubs against your slick folds. You’re already mentally preparing yourself for the stretch, but you still push your hips back at him because you crave it.

“That’s right. You’re learning already. Smarter than you look,” he teases before nudging the tip inside you and inching deeper.

Your guttural moan echoes through the bathroom as you accommodate his size. You feel him pulsing against every part of your insides. You sink further against the tiles on the wall. The bright gleam on them from the red neon lights fades as your eyes droop with lust. You try to say something, but you can’t get any words out.

And cocky as he is, he’s not faring much better. He groans and buries his face in the crook of your neck. His ragged breaths hit your skin that’s shining with more sweat. He watches your arms stretch out more against the wall, and his trail behind. His fingers chase yours and intertwine, flattening you against the surface.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he mumbles against your skin.

When he bottoms out in you, you’re sure you feel him in your stomach, deeper than anyone before had made it. He takes a second to take in before starting to thrust. His skin smacks against yours in a slow rhythm at first. Your eyes roll back at the motions, and your cunt clamps down on him, trying to keep him all the way in, to keep yourself nice and full. He growls as he feels it and sinks his teeth into the flesh of your throat. He bites, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to create an ache, a complement to the satisfaction you felt in your belly.

You yelp at the sudden feeling. It hurt, but you wanted more. It wasn’t good enough right now, too dull. You wanted it to hurt, to feel as prominent as everything else going on felt. The music in the main part of the club still raged on, vibrating throughout the entire building, including the wall you were trapped against. The bass thrummed against your cheek and made your head fog up even faster.

He hums with pleasure at your responses, enjoying the way you slowly unraveled for him. He bites a bit harder before loosening up completely. The marks now forming on your skin drive him wild. He knows they’ll last for days. You’ll feel ‘em in the shower, while you’re getting dressed, when you’re shifting around in bed at night. They’ll last much longer after he pulls out and both of you have left this sketchy bathroom.

Once he’s away from your neck, his eyes lock in on yours, but they’re not making contact. He’s enraptured by the way your gaze remains on the mirror to the side of you. He stares down at you, as if studying your thoughts just from the look in your eyes.

“You got a thing for watching, little brat? You like watching yourself get used?” he pants, “I know I like it.”

That snaps you out of your daze. You glance back at him with something akin to shyness behind your eyes. He’d describe it as cute if the two of you weren’t in a situation that was anything but at the moment.

“It’s alright, keep watching. Watch me fill this tight pussy better than anyone else ever could,” he grunts.

All you can do to reply is whine and whimper, squirming against the wall. And he laughs at you.

“Yeah?” he mocks, “That all you have to say?”

He hooks his index finger in your mouth and pulls at your cheek, shifting your face to a more erotic expression. Any words you got out now would be garbled for sure. His hips continue clapping against your ass, jolting you forward with each stroke. Drool drips down your chin from how your mouth is pulled open. You don’t bother with trying to speak anymore. You just give in to how good he’s fucking you.

“Pretty baby. Such a slut for me,” he murmurs.

Your eyes meet his in the mirror. It’s one of the most intense stares you’ve ever felt, like he’s reaching into your soul, rooting part of himself there. He’s gonna be with you long after this ends and you know it. You moan for him, letting all your sounds of euphoria flood the bathroom. He grins and pistons himself into you harder.

“Driving me crazy, dollface. Look at you, all fucked out, whining cause you don’t even know what to say. Don’t even know my fuckin’ name,” he says.

That really gets you cause he’s right, and you know it. And it should make you feel icky. Should make you want to recoil in disgust. But it does the opposite. You feel like your bodies are melting together, becoming one in your haze of passion.

You turn your head to face the other way, not wanting to confront the insatiable desire you felt. He moves in closer and keeps you pinned against that wall. He’s fucking you just how you like, and you don’t think you’re gonna last much longer. He’s not sure he will either with the way you’re pulsing around him.

“Harder,” you whimper, wanting to actually make it to the peak this time, “Want you deeper.”

“Knew you’d be begging for it,” he says. He gives you what you want though, pumping harder and driving himself even deeper. “You don’t need to know my name. All you care about is that I’m giving this pussy what she needs.”

You’re both climbing to the high point, caught up in your lust for each other. You almost don’t notice the door starting to open, a sliver of the world breaking the small bubble the two of you had made together.

All you see is a pair of eyes widening. They probably freeze with shock when they register your face squished against the tile, your wanton moans drifting through the small opening to their ears. They don’t get to see any more than that though because the bounty hunter’s large palm lands on the door and shoves it closed.

Your own eyes widen and watch how his bicep flexes. He holds it shut, and you’re pretty sure it’d stay that way even if the person tried to open it for another look.

“Not gonna let anyone interrupt before I get the chance to spill every last drop of my cum inside this cunt,” he mutters.

He’s going as hard as he can now. At least that’s what you choose to believe because you’re certain if he used any more force you’d pass out. His cock rams into all your sweet spots like entering a cheat code to get you to cum.

You claw at the wall pointlessly, there’s nothing to grab onto. But you hit the high nonetheless, cumming all over his cock. You gush around him with your release. It feels like your body goes limp, but he holds you up with no effort. He keeps you up and safely impaled on his dick, using you like a toy as he works himself up to the high.

He cums with a loud groan and makes good on his word to spill inside you. You’d have to get a pill tomorrow. He fucks it deep inside you, holding still for a moment as if to make sure he got it all in you. Only then does he finally slide out. He watches the sticky white liquid ooze out of you. It’s starting to drip down your inner thigh when he tugs your skirt back into place.

Your legs wobble beneath you as he lets you go. He steps away, turning around to put his cock away and fix his appearance slightly. You slump down against the wall, reduced to a curled up heap on the dirty floor of the bathroom, looking up at him like he’s a higher power.

You try to catch your breath, but your body feels like it’s tumbling down a mountain as you come down. Your glossy eyes watch him walk to the counter and fish your phone out of your clutch you’d left there. He checks the time before glancing at himself in the mirror. He then turns to you.

Crouching down to your level, he reaches out and strokes your cheek. He pushes some of your hair out of your face to meet your eyes.

“Probably best if you stay in here for a while. Don’t want you getting caught in the crossfire. I might wanna do this again sometime,” he tells you.

With that, he rises to his feet again and exits the bathroom as quickly as he’d entered. You’re still grappling with the events that took place. You barely even register the shots and the screaming coming from the main area of the club.

About fifteen minutes later, you manage to get to your feet. You pull your panties up again and fix yourself up as best you can. Then you leave the bathroom. The music is still blaring, but it feels quiet. There’s no one else inside; spare the dead body on the stairs leading up to the private rooms.

Bright sirens wail outside and lights begin painting your skin as you walk to the glass doors labeled ‘exit.’ Your shoes trudge through some blood on the floor and crunch on shards of broken glass. You step outside, dodging people’s questions about your wellbeing and avoiding other groups of people crying their eyes out. All of it feels surreal. None of it really has your focus.

All you’re thinking about is how you could see him again.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro imagine #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen x reader #smut

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oddinary4bts · 3 months

Text

Chasing Cars | ch 7.5 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters contain mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: alcohol, swearing, insecurities

☆word count: 2.5k

☆a/n: the drabble is a little early this week ayyyy I hope you love it <3

☆join the discord server here!

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

The locker room is quiet, the only sounds those Jungkook makes as he quickly changes shirts. He’s about to shut the locker door when the shuffling of feet on the ground attracts his attention, and he looks to his left to see Colton walking in.

Colton stops the second their gazes meet, and Jungkook clenches his jaw.

“You really fucking should move on, you know?” Jungkook lets out.

He didn’t expect to be as angry, but he can’t help it, not when he noticed how you changed after Colton spoke to you.

Colton laughs dryly. “Right, bro. You’re saying that ‘cause I told your little girlfriend out there about how much of a dick you are?”

Jungkook slams the locker door shut. “Y/n has nothing to do with this conversation, and I won’t have you belittling her.”

“Y/n?” Colton repeats, frowning. “Isn’t she Taehyung’s sister?”

Jungkook clenches his jaw. “She is. She’s a friend, is that so bad?”

“You don’t have female friends, JK, we both know that,” Colton drawls. “Have you fucked Lisa yet?”

Jungkook picks up his gym bag and your purse, heading towards where Colton is standing in the doorway of the gym.

“Fuck off, Colton,” he says, stopping in front of the guy.

“Or what?” When Jungkook remains silent, Colton chuckles, adding, “So you fucked Lisa?”

“I haven’t,” Jungkook says through gritted teeth. “And Y/n is nothing like Lisa anyway.”

Colton tilts his head to the side, the gesture just condescending enough that Jungkook thinks he might very well punch him.

“Don’t you think Y/n deserves to know you’re just a lying piece of shit?”

Jungkook laughs, his blood boiling in his veins. His fists are clenched so hard he feels his short nails digging in his palms, but it’s all he can do not to beat the shit out of Colton.

“If I recall correctly, I only ever told you the truth about Elizabeth,” Jungkook says. “You’re the one who refused to listen to me.”

And on that note Jungkook walks away, bumping his shoulder into Colton’s on the way.

“Good luck trying to get with Tae’s sister!” Colton says behind him, and Jungkook sees red.

He sees red, yet he doesn’t stop, only storms away and out of the locker room. He turns in the hallway, sees you standing there, offering him a small smile, and he’s hit with the realization that he doesn’t deserve it.

Not right now, probably not ever. But then when you tell Jungkook that he shouldn’t let Colton get to his head, Jungkook realizes that maybe he can deserve it. Maybe he can be better - he wants to prove to you that he can be better. That he’s not the person he used to be, or at least that he’s trying to be a better version of himself.

For you.

It’s more than he’s ever wanted to do for a girl, and that tells him enough about how he feels about you. He was starting to realize it yesterday when he kissed you even though he shouldn’t have, but now he realizes it clear as day.

He has feelings for you. Whatever it means. Maybe that’s why he finds himself cooking for all of your friends later that day, trying to show them, too, that he’s not just the asshole his reputation makes him out to be. Trying to show your friends that he can be a good person, someone that would deserve to be with you.

Your gravity is strong, and Jungkook thinks he’s the moon in your orbit. Because all evening he tries to stay as close to you as possible, even more so after Ria asks him if he wants to have sex with her while they’re making drinks for everyone in the kitchen. Jungkook didn’t expect her to be so straightforward, and he does admire her for it. Yet he dismisses her right away, telling her that she should focus on Seokjin instead, and then Hoseok walks in, effectively saving Jungkook.

Like hell he’d sleep with your friend when you’re the one that he wants anyway.

Jungkook sits back next to you after everyone has gotten their drink, and he leans closer to you, trying to catch your gaze. You seem to startle, turning to look at him with a widened gaze.

“What?”

“Do you like your drink?” he asks, vaguely motioning to the gin and tonic in your hands.

You scan his features for a few seconds, pink slowly dusting your cheeks. You’re adorable, and it makes his heart flutter in his chest, which in turn makes him frown suddenly. It only worsens as you remain silent, and the moment slowly stretches uncomfortably.

“Is it bad?” he asks.

“No!” you immediately reply. “Not at all, I like it.” You take a big sip, your nose slightly scrunching as you nod. “See, it’s delicious.”

He smiles fondly. “Good.”

You mirror the smile, your gaze dropping to his hands. He watches as you slowly trace his tattooed arm up, and he’s smirking by the time you meet his gaze again. You’re quick to look away, your eyes quickly dropping to your drink as you gulp.

“You’re not drinking?” you ask, your cheeks reddening once more.

“Never two nights in a row.” He glances around, noticing your friend Ria watching the two of you with a knowing smile on her lips.

Jungkook ignores it, focusing on you instead.

“Bullshit,” you say, glancing at him.

“What do you mean, bullshit?” he says as he narrows his eyes.

“You drink all the time.”

He doesn’t. He used to, but nowadays he’s been drinking a lot less, if only so that he can drive you home after the parties you attend.

“I’ve been trying to drink less,” he says. “Besides, I work tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

You’re slightly frowning, and Jungkook wants to tease you about it but before he can say anything, Hoseok suggests playing Truth or Dare. Your friends are quick to reject the offer, though Nabi proposes to play Spin the Bottle instead, which you all agree on.

So Jungkook finds himself watching your friends kissing, up until Seokjin spins the bottle and it lands on you. It feels wrong, especially as you make a joke about Hoseok being a good kisser.

He didn’t need a reminder that you used to fuck the guy sitting on the couch at all.

Jungkook watches your profile as you lean forward. His breath burns in his lungs, and he thinks his heart might have also stopped in his chest when your lips press gently on Seokjin’s lips. The kiss lasts less than a heartbeat, yet it still makes Jungkook clench his jaw.

When you pull away and sit back in your spot, your eyes meet Jungkook’s, and he forces an indifferent mask on, offering you a small smile he knows doesn’t reach his eyes. Especially not as you spin, and the bottle stops on Seokjin again.

Jungkook gulps, clenching his jaw. He doesn’t want to watch you kissing Seokjin again, yet he’s unable to look away as your lips find Seokjin’s, and Seokjin grabs your cheeks to force you to kiss for longer. Jungkook wants to tell him to let you go, to stop kissing you, that the entire game is completely stupid, but then he notices the way Seokjin looks at Ria when he pulls away from the kiss, and it suddenly all makes sense.

Seokjin is only trying to make Ria jealous. It finally allows Jungkook’s heartbeat to settle in his chest, and he shifts in his spot, his knee brushing the side of your thigh. He does it to remind himself that you’re sitting next to him, that you spent the day with him, came to the gym with him even though he thought he had irreparably fucked up yesterday, and he offers you a tight-lipped smile as you glance at him before looking towards Seokjin again.

Seokjin spins and ends up having to kiss Yoongi, which clearly makes the guy uncomfortable. Jungkook thinks it’s funny - he had no issues kissing you a second ago. But then again he can’t really blame Seokjin.

He’d give anything to be allowed to kiss you, too.

“What’s wrong with kissing the homies?” Hoseok jokes, elbowing Seokjin in the ribs.

“Nothing,” Seokjin grumbles. “I love you guys, but I’d rather not kiss my friends.”

Jungkook glances at Ria as she says, “You seemed to like kissing Y/n, though.”

You snort next to Jungkook, and he can’t help the amused smile that grows on his lips. Seokjin just stares at Ria, mouth agape, his cheeks slowly flushing red, up until he mutters, “I’d kiss you like that too.”

Some of your friends whoop, and then Nabi says, “Then kiss her.”

Seokjin turns even more red as Ria grins, cocking her head to the side. “I’m game unless you’re too shy.”

Seokjin scans the room, his eyes wide. “Well…” he trails off, gulping. “Hopefully, we’ll spin the bottle on each other.”

This time Jungkook can’t help but intervene, if only because Seokjin clearly needs help, and also because he wants to make sure Ria focuses on Seokjin instead of him.

“Come on, bro,” Jungkook says. “Don’t tell me you need that to kiss her?”

Ria jumps on the occasion, grabbing Seokjin’s cheeks and pulling him in a languid kiss that makes everyone cheer loudly enough that Jungkook thinks you might receive a noise complaint.

Not that he cares.

Jungkook’s gaze slides to you as Seokjin and Ria kiss, and you turn towards him, a wide grin on your face. You look beautiful like that, even more so as your gaze softens ever so slightly. His own gaze drops to your lips, and he wants to kiss you so bad he almost does it.

Almost being the key word. What he instead does is suck on his piercings as he glances away, hoping that you haven’t noticed his unease. Because he feels uneasy all of a sudden as he realizes that, even though he wants it, he can’t kiss you.

The insecurity hits him head on, and he remembers the words Colton said. Remembers how uncomfortable you were after Colton spoke to you, and he hates himself fiercely for the things he’s done before.

Because how can he prove himself to you if his past keeps haunting him?

The game keeps going on as Jungkook gets stuck in his inner turmoil and a few moments later, he finds himself having to kiss your friend. He doesn’t want to, thinks it’s a bad idea, yet it’s easy, far too easy to hide himself behind the reputation that he has. To pretend that it’s funny to have to kiss your friend, to even tease her about it.

He wonders, is he only doing the same thing that Seokjin was doing earlier? Probably. And it might be childish of him, but he wants to make you jealous. Wants you to retract your statement about never kissing again, wants you to want him just as desperately as he wants you. More than that, he wants to be good enough for you, wants to be able to trump his own reputation until he’s someone that would be worthy of you.

But first, he thinks he needs to make you jealous, needs to make you want him.

Maybe that’s why, when he’s done kissing Nabi, Jungkook winks at you and then leans in to whisper in your ear. He doesn’t care that everyone is watching as he says, “Had to make you jealous too.”

It’s worth the blush on your cheeks, the way you push him as you roll your eyes, muttering, “Fuck off.”

Jungkook laughs it off, sitting back in his spot, and he’s relieved that the insecurity that invaded him for a moment disappeared. Because it did - the second you rolled your eyes with that playful twinkle hiding in them, he knows that he has nothing to worry about, if only he keeps proving himself to you. And he knows that he will.

It’s finally Jungkook’s turn to spin the bottle. For once in his life, he thinks the universe aligns for him, because the bottle spins twice, halting with its neck pointing towards you. You just stare at it as an apprehensive silence fills the room, everyone’s eyes going from you to Jungkook, waiting for what’s next to come.

Jungkook wets his lips as his heart starts racing in his chest at the prospect of getting to kiss you again, even if it’s just for a silly, childish game. Yet you don’t move, and for a second, he imagines you’ll refuse to kiss him.

But then Nabi nudges you, asking, “What are you waiting for?”

You take a deep breath, chuckling. “Let’s pray Taehyung never learns about this.”

When you turn to look at him, Jungkook knows he’s fallen serious. Maybe it’s the mention of Taehyung. It’s hard to tell. All he knows is that he finds himself scanning your features like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you.

Like maybe he’s been taken back to that time he met you on the sidewalk, when everything began.

When everything ended, too.

You’re the first to lean in the space between you. The second you move, Jungkook feels propelled forward, and he meets you halfway, pressing his lips against yours in the gentlest of kisses. His eyes flutter close in time with yours, and he kisses you like you’re alone in this room, alone in the universe.

You cup his cheek, and it does something to him he doesn’t understand. Like everything is locking into place - the missing piece to the jigsaw puzzle - and Jungkook knows he can’t let you go. He wants you, and he can’t tell himself that it’s only because he’s physically attracted to you. It’s more than that - it’s everything he’s never been allowed to have, and fuck, he really can’t let you go.

He teases your bottom lip with his tongue, his heart beating wildly in his chest as you let him in, and your friends cheer loudly. Jungkook ignores them, focusing on you, focusing on the way he can’t help but touch your thigh.

Fuck.

He wants to pull you on his lap, to kiss you dumb and stupid and everything in between, and he knows you feel it too. Because the rhythm accelerates, your tongue lapping at his with more determination, and Jungkook is burning like a star exploded in his chest.

“Damn, get a room!” Ria yells, and you startle, pulling away from Jungkook.

He wants to tell Ria to fuck off, to leave you alone, but all he can do is meet your gaze, wondering if you felt it too.

Wondering if he’s the only one who doesn’t want to let go.

Read chapter seven here!

☆☆☆☆☆

he is such a lovesick babie send help :') let me know what you thought about the drabbleee

#chasing cars ch 7.5 #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook fic #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #jeon jungkook #btswritersclub #chasing cars #chasing cars series

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mistyyyy · 26 days

Note

Omg hiiii!

Uhhhh this is my first time requesting anything so sorry if I’m coming off too direct but idk any other way to do this. ✌️✌️

Can I request a pegging fic w/ Aizawa, where you’ve folded him in half are holding his legs down while his hands are bound. I’ve found little to no fics with a sub!aizawa, nonetheless fics that really hit the nail on the head for this mans character 😩😩😩.

Like- he’s trying not to give you a reaction.. but those strokes you’re giving him 🤭.

My boys having a really really tough time, twitching and shaking involuntarily. Biting his lip to try and muffle the sounds while he squirms for some sort of leverage but he can’t do anything because you’ve folded this man like paper. He’s trying to fight against the leather cuffs but to no avail. He would be wondering why tf he let you do this to him but he can’t think of anything other than you ramming that dildo up his ass- SORRY IM GONNA STOP NOW ✋✋✋ WHEWWWWWWWWWW

Resist.

Heyy….yall 👀 *clears throat.*

CW: Condescending reader, soft dom reader, pegging, bottom Aizawa, sub Aizawa, slight feminization, slight mean reader, forced edging, restraining

Words: 940

"Come on now baby you can take this dick..." You breathed out, warm breath fanning into his blushed ear as your strap slammed in and out of his hole. His moans were whiny and guttural, his breath and body strained as you forced his thighs against stomach. "M-mngh- fuck you..." he cursed out, pretty eyes squeezed shut as he tried to get a hold of reality, trying to ignore how good you made him felt. He was so stubborn, not wanting to fully submit even if you had him folded like this

You couldn't help but to grin down at him, the grip on his hairy thighs tightening. You found it amusing that he was suffering, that he was trying so hard not to enjoy the way you thrusted into him, the tip of your strap repeatedly thrusting into his prostate. "Cmon baby don't be like that... shit, you're dripping like a girl." You chuckled eyes peering down towards his throbbing red tip, pre cum drooling down to his toned belly, sliding down his angry shaft.

Your words only added more embarrassment to his situation, sun freckled skin flushing red, arms flexing behind his back as he wanted to so badly touch you, to place his hands underneath your ass to help you fuck him. His body twitched and arched, his lips red and swollen as he pulled them into his mouth to keep his nasty sounds at bay.

It didn't work of course. Not when you were fucking him like this, not when your nails dug into his muscles to hold his thighs in place, his ass and your hips angled just right. "Mmnhg-mmsofuckinclose," he whines, voice fast, throat raspy and raw from his muffled groans and grunts-rambles falling from his swollen lips, repeating how close he was to releasing.

Then you did something unexpected, a sharp gasp leaving his mouth-he almost choked and cough. Your hand left his thigh to grip onto the base of his dick, your grip tight, holding onto him like a vise. "Don't fucking cum yet, don't you dare... not until you admit it," you spoke, your hips slowing, letting him chase the orgasm he couldn't quite grasp.

This was fucking torture for the man, his face scrunching up from the uncomfortable feeling of his balls and stomach tightening from the edge, from how tight you were holding him. Why why whyyy did he let you do this? Why did he agree to let you play with him like this- why... his thoughts soon turned into mush though as he desperately wanted that high, to feel that fuzzy feeling in his brain when he came.

“P-please..” he gritted out, hoping if he begged you for release he wouldn’t have to admit how good it felt, how much he enjoyed being folded and manhandled like this. Little did he know this was more pathetic than him just admitting how good it felt.

You didn’t let him get a pass. As much as you loved to hear his rough pleases and begs to cum- you didn’t let him. So with a corrective slap on his thigh, your hips continued to move relentlessly, your hand fisting his cock tightly, not giving him a chance to forget his place. “Come on baby, you know what I want to hear. Tell me how good I make you feel, tell me how good your wife is fucking you,”

Your tone was cocky and condescending, a smirk on your face as you listened to his pained whines and whimpering, watching as his stomach caved in, his plump pecks vibrating with every thrust you gave him. He couldn’t even speak coherently anymore, his deep voice replaced with something more feminine and rough as he tried to explain how good you made him felt. “I-oh god-I- I can’t, please- you make me-“ he swallowed thickly, his voice a gasp as you kept hitting that spot, his balls throbbing and red as you restricted his base, “feelsogood,” he continued, eyes barely opened as they stared up at yours.

You felt a pang of satisfaction once he finally gave you what you wanted, a low hum leaving your throat. You could feel the way he throbbed and pulsated in your palm, his body reacting to your noises, your voice, your movements. When you finally released his shaft his mind couldn’t even keep up with the way his body reacted, how fast his orgasm came, how hot and twitchy his body felt as a white heat filled his body.

You watch as his heavy load squirted and shot onto his stomach, his chest, how it lazily dripped down his red cock until it dropped near his navel. “Mm~ good job baby… you look so good like this.” You praised your husband, your sloppy thrusting slowly down into a lazily hump as you let him ride through his orgasm.

His tanned lined body stained red, his abdomen covered in his sweat and arousal, black hair sprawled on y’all’s mattress like a dark halo. He huffed out air as he slowly caught his breath, his body felt like jello and his thighs twitched against his body as he felt your gently thumbs draw circles on the inside of his muscles. “Fuck… where’d you learn that…” he asked, voice raspy and tired as his eyes came to a close.

You chuckled, a cocky grin on your face as you continued to stare down at his fucked state. “Twitter.”

#blackreader #domgirl #femreader #top!reader #dom!reader #dom reader #sub!aizawa #aizawa smut #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta #bnha shouta aizawa #smut #bnha smut

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dreamwritesimagines · 7 months

Text

The Eye of the Hurricane [8] - Bells

A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Some decisions require late night visits.

Word Count: 2600

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

You didn’t think the rest of the week would be peaceful in any way but even you couldn’t guess just how tense it would be.

“This is insane,” Becca pointed out, crossing her arms and leaning back on her seat. You had decided to meet up for brunch but this time, two other tables in the café were also reserved for your and Becca’s multiple bodyguards who were enjoying their coffees. You stole a look at them, then turned to Becca.

“You’re telling me,” you said. “Four bodyguards everywhere I go. It sounds absurd.”

“And this is Barnes territory!” Becca hissed. “I’ve never ever needed bodyguards in our territory, and all of a sudden...”

“How stressed out is everyone?” you asked and she shook her head with a sigh.

“I could barely see Bucky in these last couple of days,” she said. “My dad said I have nothing to worry about, but you know how he is. It’s kind of condescending, honestly.”

“And your mom?”

“She has this bright idea to send me off to vacation to Zürich until the dust settles here.”

You pulled your brows together. “Will you?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “I’m not leaving any of you here.”

You reached out to squeeze at her hand before grabbing your coffee to take a sip.

“How about you?”

“I think I will get the same speech tonight,” you said. “My dad wants to talk to me.”

“And?”

“I’ll make a counter offer.”

“To?”

“To help out,” you said. “With this situation. Besides, me leaving in a time like this would be basically handing Ian the heir position, and I’m not doing that.”

“Do you think your father will accept that offer though?”

“We’ll see,” you said, trying to ignore the way your stomach did a flip. “I’d be better than Ian than handling this, he has to see that.”

“Bucky says Ian isn’t even carrying a gun anymore,” Becca said with a small laugh and you tilted your head.

“What?”

“Yeah. Apparently he says no one can get to him with his men around him. I guess it’s his way of making them think he trusts them with his life.”

You rolled your eyes. “Right.”

“As much as I hate to admit, it looks like it’s working,” Becca admitted. “He looks pretty confident.”

“Confidence can lead to very huge mistakes,” you said and cleared your throat. “Ugh, let’s talk about something else. How’s everything with Leila?”

“That’s what I wanted to ask you!” Becca said, snapping her fingers. “Do you think it’s still too early to ask her to marry me?”

You blinked a couple of times. “Becca, you two started dating less than a week ago.”

“Yeah but I could still ask her!”

“That’s the hopeless romantic in you speaking.”

“That’s the orgasms speaking actually,” she corrected you, making you grin.

“Either way, neither of those make you think logical.”

“Logical is overrated,” she pointed out. “How about you?”

“Me?”

“You and Ethan?”

“We’re not doing anything,” you said slowly. “I did hire some bodyguards for him though, just in case.”

“Maybe you should take the first step.”

“I’m not going to do that,” you said, shaking your head fervently and she hummed.

“Don’t tell me Bucky’s proposal affected you like that.”

“What? No!” you exclaimed, scrunching up your face. “Why would you say that?”

Becca rolled her eyes.

“Maybe because I’ve known you two my whole life?”

Your frown deepened. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Please,” she said, shooting you a look. “All those glances and so much bickering, it’s obvious something is there—”

“Hate,” you cut her off. “Hate is what’s there.”

Becca gave you a mischievous smile, then sipped her coffee.

“Whatever you say.”

“Bucky and I could never work,” you insisted and Becca hummed.

“What about you and Ethan?”

“Ethan is—” you paused for a moment. “Dating him would be incredibly simple. You know, no ulterior motives, no strategies, nothing complex.”

“That would be so convincing if you could deal with simple more than just a couple of months.”

“You can,” you said and Becca waved a hand in the air.

“I was never promised the heir position,” she said. “It was always Bucky. That’s why I’ve never had that…that burning ambition both of you have. At the end of the day, I do want a simple life Y/N but you’ve never been that type. I don’t think you could actually be happy in a simple relationship.”

You clicked your tongue and leaned back in your chair.

“Well then that complicates things,” you said. “I don’t think I would be happy with someone in the business either.”

“Why not?”

“Are you kidding?” you said with a laugh. “Come on, you know how spouses are treated in the business. You’re just—you’re there as the arm candy, they never let you get involved—”

“That’s the generation before us.”

“Did Bucky put you up to this?” you asked and she huffed out a laugh.

“I didn’t say you should marry my brother,” she pointed out. “I’m just saying maybe you shouldn’t force yourself to like a simple life if you want more than that. Especially if you’re basing your decision on some ancient bullshit rule our families decided to follow.”

You heaved a sigh and took a sip of your coffee.

“Didn’t you just say logical is overrated?” you asked. “Since when are you so logical?”

“I have my moments,” Becca grinned at you. “So. Can we talk about my love life now?”

“Yes but you can’t ask her to marry you.”

“I can ask her to be my fiancée,” Becca stated and you tilted your head.

“That’s…that’s basically the same, Becca.”

Becca rolled her eyes and groaned.

“Fine!” she said. “Can I at least ask her if we should move in together?”

You bit back a smile.

“I’ll give you my permission for that once you two reach the third month.”

“Oh we will,” Becca said with a bright smile. “Great. I’ll send you the house warming party gift list when I get home then.”

You had assumed your father would see you and gave you the same speech Becca got from her parents at home, but apparently he was swamped with work so he had asked you to come to the company. When you got there, your father’s assistant told you he was in the middle of a meeting with Ian and Stark, so you took a seat in the waiting area and stole a look at Ryan who was no doubt waiting for Ian.

“Hi Ryan.”

“Ma’am,” he greeted you, his tone rough but respectful. You smiled at him, crossing your arms.

“Waiting for my cousin?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” you asked and he paused for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders.

“Why are you working for him?” you asked. “He’s an asshole.”

Ryan didn’t even dignify that with an answer as he looked at you, his expression completely calm like he was very used to not giving answers.

“Riveting conversation as always,” you teased him and he bit back a small smile.

“I respect your family, ma’am.”

“I mean you don’t really have to respect Ian though, God knows he does nothing to earn that,” you pointed out. “You know he’s looking forward to starting a war, right?”

“He’s ready to see you,” the assistant said before Ryan could answer you, and you nodded your head, then stood up from the couch.

“Have a nice evening Ryan.”

“You too ma’am,” he said and you followed the assistant to your father’s office.

“Y/N sweetheart, hello,” he said as he walked to you to press a kiss on your cheek. “Sit down, sit down!”

“How was your meeting?” you asked and he waved a hand in the air.

“The usual,” he said. “I have four other meetings after this.”

“Daddy—”

“I will rest when I get home, I promise,” he said and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Right. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“It’s just that I don’t know when they will be finished, and I figured you’d be asleep by the time I got home,” he said. “Y/N listen—”

“Don’t bother giving me that speech, I’m not going anywhere,” you cut him off and he frowned.

“How did you…?”

“Winnifred gave the same speech to Becca. She tried to send her to Zürich, where are you trying to send me?”

“Wherever you want,” your father said. “I was thinking Florence but…”

“Florence is a gorgeous city,” you said. “I’d love to see it sometime, maybe next Christmas.”

“Y/N.”

You gave him a small grin. “Hm?”

“It’s going to be safer for you if you just go away from the city for a while.”

“While you and Ian handle things?”

“While I handle things.”

“But Ian stays?” you insisted and he ran a hand over his face.

“Yes, but—”

“I’m not going,” you said, your voice firm. “Send him away if you want, but I’m not leaving the city when there’s a war coming.”

“I feel like you need to think about this,” your father said and you shook your head.

“I did think about it.”

“Y/N, I will feel much better if I know you’re away from danger, at least until the dust settles here.”

You sat up straighter, your heart pacing in your chest.

“Dad I can help,” you said. “With all this. You know I can.”

A look of realization dawned on his face.

“We’ve talked about this.”

“No we haven’t,” you insisted. “Not really. We keep ignoring it, ignoring the fact that you haven’t named a successor—”

“That’s because I’m not planning on retiring soon.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Others might believe that lie, but I do not.”

Your father heaved a sigh, then pushed himself off of his seat to come closer to you, then leaned back to his desk, crossing his arms.

“And please tell me, what is it that you want to hear from me right now?” he asked you and you shook your head.

“Don’t patronize me,” you said through your teeth. “You know what I’m capable of, you trained me for times like these. You know I’d make a much better heir than Ian—”

“Y/N, enough.”

“Just give me a chance to prove myself,” you insisted. “That’s all I’m asking. You don’t have to make me the head of all operations, but give me a chance to show you I can do this. I’ve already prepared a plan—”

“Let me stop you right there,” he said. “What you’re suggesting is absolutely out of question.”

Your jaw clenched. “Why?”

“We already have a plan.”

“Okay,” you let out an impatient breath. “Then you can tell me the plan and I’ll help.”

“No need, we have everything covered.”

You could feel the anger bubbling in your stomach but you dug your fingernails into your palm, reminding yourself to stay calm.

“Dad,” you said slowly. “You promised me.”

“And I promised your mother!” he snapped, making you stop talking. “I promised your mother that I would keep you safe, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

The bridge of your nose along with the back of your eyes started burning, a sure sign that the tears were on their way but you blinked fast a couple of times, biting at your tongue.

“That was your mother’s dying wish,” he said, looking you in the eye. “I’m not going to break my promise to her.”

You swallowed thickly. “Mom would want me to be happy.”

“And you think this life would make you happy?” he asked you. “All this bloodshed, this violence?”

“I was born into bloodshed and violence,” you reminded him. “I’ve spent all my life in it. What, you think you can keep me safe by pushing me out of the picture?”

“It’s much safer than being in the middle of it.”

“For now,” you pointed out. “What about the future? I already know three families that will refuse to do business with Ian.”

Your father shrugged his shoulders. “It’s too early to worry about that. I’m not retiring anytime soon.”

“Dad, he wants to start a war.”

“He will see that war isn’t good for business,” he brushed you off. “He’s just very eager to prove himself right now, that’s all. He’s not going to start a war, don’t worry.”

You gritted your teeth and pursed your lips, glaring at him.

“You got your fire from me, your mother was much calmer,” he said with a small smile. “So I swear to you, I understand your frustration and anger very well. The crown you think you want right now? It’s way too dangerous sweetheart. You’ll see it in time that I’m making the right choice.”

The tears blurred your sight for a moment before you blinked them away and wetted your lips, trying to ignore the lump in your throat.

“You’re not going to name me as your successor, are you?” you rasped out. “Nor will you let me prove myself.”

Your father held your gaze in his for a second, then shook his head.

“No.”

The disappointment hit you so hard that it made your head spin. This wasn’t news to you in any way, you had spent years watching your father treat Ian like his successor but actually hearing it from him was enough to make you want to scream. Anger rushed through you, boiling your blood and you bit your tongue hard enough to hurt, and nodded slowly.

“Okay,” you heard yourself say as you stood up, not even looking him in the eye and he took a deep breath.

“Honey…” he started but you walked out of his office without sparing him a glance, your whole body moving as if it was on autopilot. You got to the elevator and pressed the button, then stepped inside and watched the doors close, sniffling as you wiped at your eyes.

Very well then.

If your father didn’t want to give you power, you were going to take it for yourself.

The address wasn’t exactly familiar to you seeing that you hadn’t been there before, but your driver knew the way. When you walked into the building and gave the reception your name, it took them less than a minute to guide you to the elevator, everyone around you rushing like they were instructed not to make you wait even for a second. When the elevator stopped at the top floor, a bodyguard led you to the door of the penthouse to knock on the door and you heard the footsteps coming closer before the door opened.

It looked like Bucky had dashed through the apartment to put his jeans on when they told him you were there, seeing that he was breathing quite fast. You let yourself run your gaze over his bare muscular torso, the tattoos over his chest catching your attention before your eyes snapped up to his, your heart skipping a beat.

God damn it, you almost forgot just how handsome he was.

“Charm,” he said, offering you a small smile. “Hi.”

“Hey there,” you said as you walked past him into the penthouse before he could invite you inside and he closed the door behind you.

“This is a nice surprise,” he said while you glanced around. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You took a deep breath and turned around to look at him better, your heart beating in your ears.

“Get rid of whoever is in your bedroom,” you said and shot him a sarcastic smile as you crossed your arms. “We need to talk about the wedding.”

Chapter 9

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky x reader #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky #mob bucky barnes x reader #mob bucky x reader #mob boss bucky barnes #mob boss!bucky #mafia!bucky barnes #mafia bucky x reader #mafia bucky barnes #mafia!bucky #mob!bucky #mafia!bucky barnes x reader #mob au

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toournextadventure · 10 months

Text

a novel life pt.1

Summary: You're a Lit professor at Blackmoor University when you meet Samantha Carpenter. Life becomes... a lot more exciting with her around.

Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: swearing, bullying, sister arguments Pairing: Sam Carpenter x GN!Reader (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5)

You liked Sam.

No, that was quite the understatement. You would almost - almost - go so far as to say you loved her! Not quite yet, obviously, you still weren’t completely, absolutely positive. But you were pretty certain that the things you felt for her could be classified as love. At least that’s what your dad said love was, and he had been happily married for 41 years at that time, so how could you possibly argue with that kind of experience?

It wasn’t like you had meant to fall in love with her. Not that you actively avoided it, you just… hadn’t been looking for her. Both you and Sam had a habit of lying when people asked how you met; they always assumed it was some kind of meet-cute. Her friend Mindy was determined it was something adorable, like meeting at a coffee shop or running into each other at the library.

The truth, the cold hard truth, was much more ridiculous.

“Why are you watching me?”

You blinked hard and looked up at the… woman (?) standing in front of you. She was all blurry and all you could really make out was dark hair and beautifully brown skin. If you really squinted, you could see just enough of her posture that, when coupled with the tone, was indicative of frustration. Maybe even anger, if you pushed it.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I didn’t know I was.”

“How could you not know?” She asked, her tone staying incredibly not happy.

“I, uh-” you cleared your throat, “-I couldn’t see you.”

Her laugh was condescending. And pretty. “You were looking right at me.” Her blurry frame shifted. “Come up with a better excuse.”

This strange woman was rather mean, wasn’t she? You kind of liked it.

“It’s not an excuse,” you said once her frame had officially stopped moving.

“Then how did you not see me?” She asked. “What are you, blind?”

You smiled to yourself and set your bagel down. “Kind of,” you said as you lifted your head to face her. Or at least you hoped you were. “I forgot my glasses at my office.”

“Fuck,” she said softly. Her tense tone had disappeared rather quickly. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “Sounds like you’re used to being watched.”

“You have no idea,” she said quickly.

Wait. That was an opening. You hadn’t talked to a woman outside of work in ages. This was your chance!

“Want to sit down over coffee some time and talk about it?”

You really really wished you hadn’t forgotten your glasses. Without them, you couldn’t see the look on her face. Did she think your question was rather rash? Rude, even? Or perhaps she thought it was a welcome idea, even just to get something off her chest. From the sound of it, she had a lot on her mind.

“Sure,” she said eventually. “I’d like that.”

The rest, as they say, was history. You had both gotten your coffee and you hadn’t forgotten your glasses again. Which made the coffee date a little awkward because then you could see just how truly beautiful she was, and you had not been prepared for it. She had watched you become a stuttering fool who could only spout random, unwarranted facts about things.

By some miracle, she had asked you on a dinner date.

The singular benefit of the entire situation was that you had met at the very beginning of summer break. You had decided not to teach a summer class that year, instead opting to use the hotter months to find more material that you could bring to the fall semester. There had to be a wider range of literature from the Romantic Period outside of what the school had already been teaching when you joined the staff. The literature classes at the moment were so… basic.

Because of this, work never came up. Sam never asked, and you never even thought to tell simply because… well, you just hadn’t thought of it. You hadn’t been hiding your profession, you hadn’t even tried to be sneaky about it. After all, your entire apartment was filled with tomes and first editions of novels and the closest thing you could get to original manuscripts of the ancients. And Sam had very certainly seen the inside of your apartment more than once.

The thought had never occurred to you to bring up what you did for a living. After all, you finally had a girl…friend? You weren’t quite sure if that term could be used officially, but you were going to use it in your internal monologue. Regardless, this was the first time in years, how were you supposed to remember everything she might want to know? Besides, it wasn’t like she had asked yet.

And neither had her sister! Who, unfortunately, you were starting to think didn’t like you. She had never said it out loud, so you couldn’t be sure, but she made sure to give you a, uh, look whenever you would come over. Sam had told you that Tara loved movies - horror movies to be precise - and you had even managed to find a rare copy of a “famous” B-list movie for her!

It still didn’t work.

“Do I need to try and cook dinner for her one night?” You asked, looking up from your book. Sam was still doing her own studying for her night classes.

“If you cook for Tara, she will eat you alive,” Sam said without missing a beat. “She had to cook for herself for years, she will tear you apart.”

“She’s so scary,” you whispered to yourself before looking back down at your lecture notes. “What if I found the original script of her favourite movie?”

At that, Sam put her pen down. Your stomach fluttered; had you said something wrong? Oh of course you had, you absolute fool. You don’t question someone about how to win over their siblings! Well… did you? Maybe you needed to do some research on the topic.

“Your efforts are sweet,” she said with a soft smile, “but you can’t push Tara. She’ll come around when she’s ready.”

You frowned. “How will she be ready if I don’t try?”

“Trust the process,” she said. She leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before going back to her studying, and you were left stewing in your own thoughts.

The process didn’t make any sense.

—---

“Do you have to go?” Sam asked in a raspy voice.

You looked up from tying your shoes. Sam had rolled over to her other side on the bed, giving you the perfect view of her. Her hair was a mess and her eyes could barely stay open, but she looked just as beautiful as always. The sun had barely started to peek through the curtains to hit her skin at just the right angle. It looked like she was glowing.

Maybe you didn’t have to go.

No, you had students waiting, of course you had to go.

“I’ll be back after work,” you said quietly. Her eyes were still mostly closed, and you didn’t want to jolt her awake; she deserved her beauty rest.

“Be safe,” she said.

You finished tying your shoe and stood up, leaning down to give her a gentle kiss on the lips. She sighed softly. “I’ll be safe.” You placed one more kiss on her forehead before pulling back. She quickly fell back into bed, already fast asleep.

Thankfully, all of your stuff was outside the bedroom. It made it easier to stay quiet, tip-toeing your way out of the room and easing the door open and shut with as little noise as possible. You waited a moment, listening through the door to see if she had woken up, but nodded to yourself in confirmation before turning back around.

And facing Tara.

“Your nerd shit is by the door,” Tara said a little louder than you would have liked. She was going to wake up Sam if she didn’t quiet down a bit.

“Thank you,” you said. Because of course that was something normal people said in that situation. “Are you, uh, headed to class?”

You gestured your head toward her backpack. Which was clearly filled with school books. Which you were more than aware meant that yes, of course she was heading to school. Where else would she be going? You weren’t doing a very good job at winning her over, now she was going to think you were stupid.

“No, I’m running away,” Tara said with a roll of her eyes.

“Oh,” you said sadly. Then, her words clicked in your mind and you perked up. “Oh.” Okay, she wasn’t going to think you were stupid, she was simply going to bully you.

Jokes on her, you had been bullied all your life, you were practically a professional.

“I’m heading that way too,” you said as you ungraciously shoved your arms through your jacket. “Want to go together?”

Tara looked you up and down for only a fraction of a second. “Absolutely not.”

You watched, dejected, as she exited the apartment without another word. Although you weren’t entirely surprised, you weren’t exactly happy about the situation. Well, there went one of your chances at winning her over. You would have to try again next time. And maybe not be so… what did you hear Tara call you the other day… pathetic in your attempts.

Which was going to be rather hard to do when you couldn’t even catch your bus, leading to you having to walk the long distance to the university. It led to you shedding your jacket before getting halfway to your destination, and blisters on the backs of your heels from your shoes. Maybe you didn’t need to dress quite the same if you were leaving Sam's apartment; clearly it wasn’t a safe choice.

You were nine minutes and 27 seconds late to your class.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you said the moment you stepped into the classroom. Everyone was still talking, but they quieted down slowly. “I missed my bus.” You tossed your briefcase onto the desk and started digging for your papers. “Which means, lucky for you, we can skip icebreakers and get right to it.”

There was a mix of mumbled approval and sighs of relief at the release from icebreakers. You would admit, you weren’t too upset about it either. Even though it did help everyone learn names - ahem, it helped you learn their names - it was rather intimidating. No one knew what to say, it put everyone on the spot, and more often than not ended up with no one talking the entire semester. This was better for everyone, and at least you had an excuse.

“Alright,” you huffed, finally pulling the stack of papers out of your briefcase, “pass these around while I tell you about the changes in readings.” Groans quickly followed. “You won’t be buying more textbooks, I’ve got PDFs to share.”

You quickly handed the stack of papers to the student closest to the front, giving them a smile and a mouthed “thank you.” She smiled back and nodded before handing them back. Even as you reached back to grab your own notes, you finally, finally looked out at the class.

And froze when you met a pair of familiar brown eyes.

Tara had a look that you would have classified as “furious.” Although her nose scrunched up like Sam’s, and you could truly see the family resemblance in their anger. That was… well, it sure was something. You hoped you could grow to get used to all of this enough to keep a professional demeanour in class. It wouldn’t do you any good to lose it now simply because your girlfriend’s (?) sister was in your class.

Admittedly, class went on without a hitch. Eventually, after nearly the entire hour had passed, Tara had managed to relax enough to look over the syllabus and even give her input on a few of the readings you had changed up. She was smart. You hadn’t heard much from her, but she was incredibly smart. It was going to be a delight to hear her opinions throughout the semester.

“Alright everyone, I’ll let you out a few minutes early,” you said once you had thoroughly exhausted everything on the syllabus. Had you really needed to take as long as you had? No, but you weren’t going to miss a single piece of information. The point of teaching was to prepare everyone for success, not to throw information out at them and hope they could comprehend it well enough on their own.

The class quickly started packing up, talking about nothing that you had told them about. Which was as expected. You hadn’t been teaching for too long, but you weren’t naive; you knew students usually only cared during class and gave up as soon as they were free.

“Oh, Miss Carpenter,” you said quickly, catching Tara right before she left. “Can we talk for a moment?”

Your heart beat loudly in your chest as Tara sighed, but otherwise nodded and trudged back into class. She didn’t sit, but stayed standing on the other side of the desk. A defence mechanism if ever you saw once. Though, judging by the scar you could see on her hand, you assumed it was for good reason.

“I want to check in with you that my presence won’t negatively impact your time in this class,” you said once everyone had finished filing out of the room.

“Will my presence negatively impact your time with my sister?” She shot back quickly. Why was she so fast? You didn’t answer. She sighed and shook her head. “I’m a big girl, I can handle you as my professor for one semester.”

“Good,” you said with repetitive nods. “Please inform me if you change your mind.” Tara rolled her eyes, but you weren’t phased. “I do not mean to impede upon your success.”

“Shut up,” she said softly, “you sound like such a parent.”

“I mean it, Tara,” you continued. “You don’t have to like Sam and me, but I don’t want it to impact your life-”

“-Oh my god, I get it,” she interrupted quickly. Her weight shifted between her feet. “Just shut up already, I have another class to get to.”

“Okay,” you said with a gesture toward the door. “Stay safe.”

Tara didn’t bother answering before practically sprinting out the door. You hoped she was being serious about not being too influenced with you as her professor. It was against every part of your being to create a barrier between her and her academics. If she didn’t like you, that was one thing, but if it caused a problem? You would have to talk to Sam about it.

Oh god, you did sound like a parent.

By the time all your classes had ended and you could finally head back to Sam’s apartment, you had nearly forgotten all about Tara being in your class. Now, it certainly didn’t help that you were so focused on getting back to Sam so you could crawl into bed with her and rest. You clearly had better things to think about than a potential, unconfirmed incident at school.

Well, you thought you had better things to think about. When you approached Sam’s apartment door, you could hear elevated voices inside. Elevated voices that were related to each other. And that were surely unhappy about something. Oh gosh. You debated walking away, but what if they were in trouble?

You would not have been the one to save them, but by golly if you weren’t going to try.

“They’re one of my professors, Sam,” Tara shouted while you walked into the apartment.

Oh jeez. You should not have tried to save anyone. Sam was standing near the couch with her arms crossed defensively across her chest. Across from her, Tara was near the kitchen, her backpack and books strewn along the table as if she had thrown it there. Which, judging by her apparent anger, was likely.

“You can’t just date one of my professors,” she continued. “That’s so wrong.”

“You’re an adult, Tara,” Sam said, “you can handle one semester of this.”

You debated stepping in, but couldn’t decide if that would make things better or worse. Clearly Tara had an issue, and you didn’t want to throw it back in her face. That certainly wouldn’t help you win her over. You decided to stay put for the moment.

“I don’t trust them, Sam,” Tara practically shouted. Not quite, but she was building it up. “They just want to show up, worm their way into every part of our lives, and I’m not supposed to be suspicious?” She asked. “After everything we’ve been through?”

“This isn’t-” Sam stopped when she met your eyes.

Tara turned around at Sam’s sudden halt, groaning when she saw you standing there. You lifted your shaky hand slowly, giving a half-hearted wave. Sam’s eyes softened as she watched you, but Tara’s only hardened. And, you supposed you couldn’t fully blame her. She… made a good point.

“I can head out,” you said softly.

“Good-”

“-Don’t.” Tara and Sam said at the same time. Sam glared at the younger Carpenter. “You don’t have to go.”

“I don’t mean to intrude,” you said with a slight shake of your head. “I can come back another time.”

“I’ll walk you out,” she said.

“Seriously?” Tara asked. “We’re talking.”

“And we can talk when I get back,” Sam said quickly. She practically pushed you out the door. “Don’t go anywhere.”

You didn’t get to see Tara’s face at Sam’s order. No doubt it was… not happy. It made you… sad to see them arguing, especially about something as insignificant as you. There was absolutely no reason they should be arguing about you.

Perhaps there was also a small bit of relief at being an only sibling.

Sam leaned against the door and closed her eyes before letting out a drawn out sigh. Your inexperience got the better of you; you didn’t know what to do. Not only had you not had a girlfriend for *ahem* a little while, you also didn’t have siblings. Was this normal behaviour for siblings? For sisters? Surely it was.

No, you needed to think, that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Sam was clearly upset in some form, and you needed to do something to comfort her. What was comforting? Ah, you knew. You reached forward carefully and grabbed Sam’s hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. They linked together perfectly, like they were meant to be.

She opened her eyes slowly and looked down at your hands. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips before she looked back up at you. There was a slight crinkle at the corners of her eyes; the main indication of her smile that she was holding back. You loved that crinkle.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

“Don’t be,” you said with your own smile as you pulled her closer to you. “I don’t blame her for being cautious.”

“I guess it’s my own fault,” Sam said. You both started slowly making your way down the stairs. “I openly disapproved of her partner, so.”

“Payback,” you said with a nod.

“I didn’t know you were a professor,” she said shyly.

You chuckled. “I didn’t know you didn’t know.”

“Tell me about it?” She asked.

You both stepped onto the ground floor in tandem. As much as you wanted to stand there with her all night, you knew she needed to have a talk with Tara. If any of you wanted this to work, you would have to put in the effort and do the things you didn’t want to. At the moment, it was Sam and Tara hashing it out.

“Over dinner?” You suggested. “Next Thursday?” She smiled. “I don’t have class Friday morning and a co-worker suggested this delightful little bistro.”

“That sounds great,” she said. “But you’re paying.”

“It’s only fair,” you said with a shrug. “I suppose this mess is my fault.”

“100%,” she said, biting her bottom lip immediately after.

You didn’t have to be experienced to know what to do next. Her arms instinctively wrapped around your neck as she pulled you closer. Your hands fell to her hips, holding her securely against you. You didn’t have to move very far to kiss her. She tasted lovely; the taste of chocolate, a splash of wine, and the ever-present hint of cigarettes.

She tasted like love

—---

The countdown to your date with Sam had seemed to drag on endlessly. The days seemed to go by too slowly, you only got to talk to her on occasion, and you had been thrown back into the swing of things with… far too many classes to preside over. It was your own fault, of course, but that didn’t make it any more tolerable.

Add to that the fact that Tara, while behaving herself, was keen on giving you some rather distasteful looks during class? It was a rather long week.

But the day had finally arrived! You had finished your class and practically sprinted - to the best of your ability - to the bus stop to get back to your apartment. A simple shower to freshen up, a new change of clothes, and you were all set to go. You stopped by the little bodega on the way, purchasing a small bouquet of flowers, and then you were on your way once again.

Sam had texted you earlier in the day, telling you to stay in the lobby and let her know when you were there. You assumed, rightfully, that it was because Tara was up in the apartment. Things might have been resolved, but that didn’t mean she had to like you yet. It was a fair compromise for the moment.

You texted her as soon as you stepped into the lobby, and she said she would be down momentarily. That was alright, at least the lobby was cool compared to the hot post-summer air outside. It wasn’t miserable, but it was enough that you weren’t too keen on being stuck outside.

“Nice shoes,” a voice said. “They look clean, where’d you get ‘em?”

You looked up from the hole you were staring into the floor to meet the eyes of a youngster coming into the lobby. They had rather kind eyes and a smile that, though accentuated by scars on both sides, was one of the most genuine you believed you had ever seen.

“Thank you,” you said as you rolled your shoulders back. “They’re from, ah, Allen Edmonds? Rockefeller Plaza?”

“I think I know that place, yeah,” the person said. “You’d recommend them?”

“Of course,” you said with a nod. “They’ve been the finest quality shoes I own.”

“I’ll have to check ‘em out,” the person continued. They nodded at the flowers in your hand. “For a girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” you said, “she’s on her way down.”

“She’ll love ‘em,” they said kindly. “I’m on my way up to see my girlfriend, so I’ll leave ya alone.”

You nodded enthusiastically. “You two have a wonderful evening.”

“You too,” they said with a crooked half-smile and a small wave before jogging up the stairs two at a time.

It only took another moment or two before Sam came down, looking as stunning as always. Her dress hugged her curves in all the right places - which was every place - and complimented her eyes beautifully. Paired with a simple bracelet and necklace, and you were one lucky person.

“You look gorgeous,” you said softly, pulling her into a quick kiss but being careful not to smear her makeup. “These are for you.”

Her smile was small, a smile that almost gave you more butterflies than her bigger one. This one was almost reserved for you exclusively, and you would have done anything to see it more often.

“They’re beautiful,” she said, leaning up again to press a kiss to your cheek. You hoped it left a lipstick stain.

You grabbed her hand and led her out of the building, hailing a taxi and ushering her in before following behind. In the privacy of the cab, she let her head fall onto your shoulder as she played with your fingers. You didn’t look down, but you felt her twisting your class ring round and round, almost nervously.

“You know,” you said as the cab pulled to a stop at a light, “I met the most delightful young fellow in the lobby before you came down.”

“Oh really?” Sam asked. She had stopped fidgeting with your ring and had started running her fingers over your clothed thigh.

“They asked about my shoes,” you said with a nod, “and said you would love the flowers.”

Her fingers stopped moving.

“What did this “young fellow” look like?” She asked. Her head lifted from your shoulder; you instantly missed the sensation.

“About yea high,” you said, indicating vaguely how tall they were. “Crooked smile.”

“Scars on their cheeks?”

“That’s the one,” you said with a nod. “I liked them.”

“That’s Tara’s partner,” Sam said with a huff.

“Oh?” You asked, intrigued. Well, you certainly wouldn’t have guessed that.

“The one I don’t exactly approve of,” she continued.

“Oh,” you said with far less excitement. “Well, I thought they were lovely.”

“I’m sure you did,” she said. Her tone indicated annoyance, but you glanced down in time to catch the small smile on her face that gave her away.

You pulled her back into your side and kissed the top of her head as the cab continued its route to the bistro. Maybe it wouldn’t be too difficult to get all four of you to get along. You loved Sam, even if you weren’t quite ready to admit it yet. After all, with her hand in yours and your lips pressed to her skin? What was the worst that could happen?

#samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter imagine #sam carpenter imagine

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mythicmanuscripts · 24 days

Note

Omg sub!Aegon having a mommy kink is so real! I imagine that as soon as he got confirmation that he could call reader mommy he would he absolutely obsessed. Like at that point he would just stop caring about alicent’s opinion because he don’t need her validation anymore. Anyways could you write more about sub!aegon with a mommy kink? I don’t have any ideas rn but really I’ll be fine with whatever your brilliant head comes up with <3

You’re so right about this anon, so right.

So I didn’t intend for this to happen but I accidentally veered into himbo!aegon as well in this so I hope that’s alright 😂 anyway, sub!aegon with mentions of sexual activity below the cut

I love how this anon mentioned that Aegon would become utterly obsessed when he realises his darling wife can guide him and love him and looking after him without making him feel stupid. Because yeah that’s exactly right.

It takes no time at all for him to be worshiping the ground you walk on. The constant, gentle affection and guidance you give him means that he’s always utterly captivated by you. He didn’t know it was possible to feel both well cared for AND horny at the same time and now that he’s experienced that, it’s basically his constant state.

I also think a large part of him starting to see you as mommy before he actually uses the title for you is the way you treat him in public? He’s never had someone look so…. proud to be with him? You smile at him and you listen to him and you hold his hand and you never, ever make him feel insecure in public ever.

That was one of alicent’s favourite tricks. She’d brings them up in council meetings and before council members and she’d sound so condescending, speaking like she has to get the message across because she doesn’t trust Aegon to do it. In fact nine times out of ten she doesn’t even tell Aegon that’s going on, so he’s completely in the dark when she suddenly springs something on him in meetings and speaks like they’ve already discussed it.

The fact that he knows for a fact you would never, ever do that to him matters so so much. That’s not to say you’ll never correct him, because of course you will, but rather you don’t do that in front of others. If he’s ever completely off and you need to voice that right then, you just share your opinion and let Aegon announce his change of mind if he agrees with you (spoiler: he always does).

Knowing that you’d never make him seem stupid or useless in front of people means he knows he can look to you for advice in public settings without fear of being belittled. You just…. You make him feel so safe.

So that coupled with how you fuck his brains out most nights? Yeah he’s done for. No more thoughts. Head empty. Of course he’s going to want to call you mommy!!!

And when he asks and you say yes? Well you have to cancel all engagements for the test of the day because your husband has become a horny puddle on the floor and now you just take care of him.

So of course he loves calling you mommy!! He only ever does it in private of course, but you get the distinct impression that Alicent knows way aegon calls you, or at the very least that Alicent knows you take the dominant role in your relationship with him.

Once she realises this, she tries to poison him against you so that she can keep him under her thumb and needlessly to say, it’s entirely pointless. Honestly he doesn’t even notice the smear campaign Alicent is leading against you.

How could he have time to notice that? He’s too busy staring at his pretty wife!!

#sub!aegon #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen smut #aegon smut #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon the second #king aegon #hotd aegon #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd #house of the dragon imagine

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murdrdocs · 11 months

Text

INTERVIEW 010

with. rafe cameron and jj maybank

includes. ghostface!rafe and jj, DUBCON, fem!reader, knife play, breaking and entering, unprotected p n v sex, mean!rafe and jj (obvi), reader isn't aware of their identities

→ kinktober masterlist

The knife that reflects the low light, pointed directly at you, should cause alarm. It should at least be the cause of the spike in your heart rate, instead of the two masked men who wield it. It should make your mouth dry, instead of increasing saliva production.

You should be worried about your current position. About your current predicament.

Kneeled on the carpeted floor of your childhood home, hands politely, and voluntarily, placed in your lap, your entire body lax and complacent even with two imposing figures looming over you, masked and dressed in all black combat gear.

They stare at you, silent, calculating, eyes invisible beneath the ghost face and the black cloth that covers the oblong eye slits. The last time they spoke to you, – the first barking a hard command of “get on your knees” and the second cooing a condescending praise of “that’s it” when you did as told – you heard their voices through a modulator, designed to disguise possibly the most telling aspect of them.

The distortion of it shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did. But nothing about this situation should have been as arousing as it is.

Two masked men, completely unidentifiable, breaking into your home and holding a knife pointed at you with intent to use, shouldn’t be attractive. But between your legs is soaked, gray panties housing a dark gray patch right in the center of them.

You didn’t have the thought to slip a pair of pants on after your shower earlier, leaving you in a tiny tee and your underwear, no bra to cover your hardening nipples from the perpetrators that stand before you.

They notice it, you can tell they do, it’s impossible not to notice. Yet they don’t say anything.

Instead, the one on the left, the taller of the two, leans down and raises a gloved hand. You flinch, but there’s no reason to, his hand raising to your chest instead of your face. His thumb and pointer finger single themselves out, closing around your pert nipple. He squeezes, as if he’s testing you, and you hiss. When his thumb grazes over the area instead of pinching it, you don’t know if it’s a gift, if you’d passed his test or not.

You’re still unaware of your status when the other circles behind you, hand coming to your front view to cup your chin. You watch the glove come into view, eyes instead going up when he pushes your head back, making it so you look straight at him. The blank stare of the mask menacing, yet you’re not afraid.

Instead, you shuffle on your knees, rubbing your thighs together in a pathetic attempt to receive some sort of friction. It doesn’t work, but you succeed in getting their attention, two pairs of snickers sounding from either side of you.

“Give her what she wants,” the one behind you suggests to the other, the words lacking the harshness that an order should. Instead, it’s a simple suggestion, one you hope the other decides to take.

When he does, getting what you want has never felt so good.

Not even the pain in your knees could dull this feeling, skin scraping along the rough texture of the overpriced rug your parents love so much as you attempt to hold yourself up. One of your hands digs into the black fabric of the denim jeans that one of your assailants wears, the other pressed flat into the harsh fabric beneath you.

Your hand placements does nothing to steady you, though, not when the masked figure behind you is fucking you like this. Raw, something that only concerned you for an astonishingly brief second before you let your thoughts go in favor of reveling in the pleasure. Pleasure which multiplied once the figure in front of you had his cock down your throat.

The living room is a mixture of sounds; the deep groans from the one behind you mixed with his insistent praises that degrade you all at the same time, the almost-whimpers from the one in front of you as he holds a hand at the back of your neck to force you to take more and more, and your pathetic garbling as you don’t bother attempting to muffle your own sounds while you take it all in.

You’ve never been more full, nor have you ever been more fucking aroused. You can hear your own arousal over your slurping, pornographic squelches of bare skin abusing your gummy walls. You can feel it dripping around you, the skin of your inner thighs wet and warm.

In a risky move, you shakily raise one of your hands to bring it between your legs, running your fingers over your clit with a touch that has your eyes rolling back.

“Look at her. She’s really getting off to this, huh?” The voice behind you is distant as you start to rub a little faster, tight circles clearly intended to get yourself off.

“Gonna make yourself cum, sweetheart? Hm? Getting off to two men breaking into your apartment and having their way with you.” He’s mean with it, and you’re sure the words are spoken to put you down, maybe fill you with shame and make you falter a bit.

Instead, they do the opposite, sending you over the edge in an orgasm that has your legs shaking, body practically collapsing to the floor.

They follow you to the ground, because although you may be done, it doesn’t mean they are.

#🕸️ 𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐑 #rafetobr!#jjtobr!#rafesworld!#jjsworld!#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #dark!rafe cameron #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank smut #dark!jj maybank

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wosomaanum · 4 months

Text

Just In Time | Frida Maanum

Summary: You and Frida decide to go to a party where not everything goes to plan

Warnings: creepy people, homophobia, alcohol, party things yk

You and Frida are getting ready in your shared apartment, the scent of her favorite vanilla body spray mingling with the faint sound of indie music playing in the background. Frida stands in front of the mirror, adjusting her earrings, while you fuss with the shirt. She catches your eye in the reflection, offering a reassuring smile.

"Ready to go?" she asks, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

"Yeah, let's do this," you reply, taking her hand as you head out the door.

The walk to the party is filled with light conversation and laughter, Frida's presence always a source of comfort and joy. When you arrive, the house is already buzzing with energy, music pumping through the walls, and groups of people scattered around, talking and dancing.

“Wow, it’s crowded in here.” You state, a hint of uncertainty present in your voice.

“It is. Just stay close yeah?” Frida replies, her thick Norwegian accent peaking through.

“Don’t worry, nothings going to happen.” You reply, you weren’t sure if you were trying to reassure Frida or yourself.

“Darling, I know you can handle yourself. I’d much rather be safe than sorry. Just let me know roughly where you’re gonna go and remember: you have a phone for a reason.” She stays, matter of factly.

“Right. I’m just gonna go to the toilet then alright? Love you.” You kiss Frida on the cheek offering her a smile to what she exchanges cutely.

On your way to the bathroom, you decide to take a look in the kitchen to scout out the drinks. You were by no means a drinker but you knew Frida was the designated driver. Which meant two things:

1. You could get tipsy

2. You could only get tipsy. Not flat out drunk. Or Frida would be on your back.

The kitchen is packed, but you manage to find a spot near the counter. As you pour yourself a drink (okay, just a quick one), a guy you don’t recognise sidles up next to you. He's taller than you, with an overly confident smirk plastered on his face.

"Hey there," he says, leaning in a bit too close for comfort. "I haven't seen you around here before. Can I get you another drink?"

"No, thanks. I'm good," you reply, trying to keep your tone polite but firm. You were already feeling tipsy by now as you had spontaneously chugged down two solo cups worth. You knew Frida would be scolding you later - but that didn’t matter right now.

He doesn't take the hint, instead stepping even closer. "Come on, just one drink. What's the harm?"

You glance around, hoping to spot Frida, but she's still across the room, chatting with some friends. "I said no, thanks," you repeat, more forcefully this time.

The guy's smirk fades slightly, but he doesn't back off. "Don't be like that. I'm just trying to be friendly."

You try to step away, but he blocks your path, his presence becoming more oppressive. "Seriously, I don't want a drink," you say, louder this time, hoping someone nearby will notice.

His eyes narrow slightly, and he leans in even closer, his breath hot on your ear. "Why are you being such a prude? I'm just being nice."

Panic starts to bubble up inside you, your heart racing as you try to push him away. "Leave me alone," you demand, your voice trembling.

He chuckles, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Relax, I'm not going to bite. Just trying to have a conversation. What's your name?"

You take a step back, trying to put some distance between you. "It's none of your business," you snap, hoping to sound more confident than you feel.

He rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed. "No need to be so rude. I'm just asking a simple question."

"Look, I'm here with someone," you say, trying a different tactic. "I'm not interested."

"Oh, come on," he says, his tone turning condescending. "Whoever it is, they can't be that great if they left you alone. Just one drink, and if you still want me to leave, I will."

You shake your head, backing up further. "I already told you, I'm not interested. Please, just leave me alone. And don’t insult my girlfriend.”

His expression darkens, and he steps forward again, ignoring your plea. "You know, you're making this a lot harder than it needs to be."

"I don't care," you snap, louder this time, hoping the raised volume will attract someone's attention. "I said no. Now back off."

He laughs, a harsh, mocking sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "Feisty, I like that. Come on, just one drink. It's not going to kill you."

Desperation starts to creep in as you look around the room, searching for a familiar face. "I'm not interested," you repeat, your voice shaking with anger and fear. "Why can't you just take no for an answer?"

"Because I'm not used to hearing it," he replies smugly. "You're not going to find anyone better than me here, so why not just give it a shot?"

You glance around again, feeling trapped. "Look, you're making me really uncomfortable. Please, just go away."

"Uncomfortable?" he scoffs. "I'm just talking to you. You don't have to be so dramatic."

"I'm not interested because I'm here with my girlfriend," you say, hoping that will make him back off.

His expression changes, a sneer spreading across his face. "Oh, so you're one of those. That explains a lot."

"Did I not already tell you that? And, What do you mean by that?" you ask, feeling a surge of anger mix with your fear.

"Just that it makes sense why you're so uptight," he says, leaning in closer again. "Trying to play the victim, huh? You think you're too good for a guy like me because you like girls?"

"That's none of your business," you say firmly, trying to keep your voice steady. "Just leave me alone."

"Come on, don't be like that," he says, his voice dripping with condescension. "Maybe you just haven't been with the right guy yet."

"Back off," you say, louder now, hoping someone will notice and intervene.

"What's going on here?" Frida's voice cuts through the tension, her tone calm but authoritative. She walks up, her eyes immediately assessing the situation. Sliding her arm around your waist, she fixes the guy with a steady gaze. "Is there a problem?"

The guy looks between the two of you, clearly irritated. "We were just talking," he says, attempting to brush off the situation.

Frida tightens her hold on you, her eyes not leaving his. "It didn't look like she wanted to talk," she says calmly but firmly. "She told you to leave her alone."

"Mind your own business," he snaps, his bravado faltering slightly under Frida's intense gaze.

Frida maintains her calm demeanor, her voice unwavering. "She is my business. If she asked you to leave her alone, you should respect that."

He hesitates, clearly not used to being challenged. "Look, I'm not trying to start anything. Just having a conversation," he says, his tone trying to sound reasonable but failing.

Frida's expression softens slightly as she addresses him again. "Look, she clearly doesn't want to continue this conversation. Let's all just move on and enjoy the party, okay?"

"Whatever," he mutters, but he doesn't move.

Frida remains calm, her grip on you firm but gentle. "Did you not hear her? She's not interested. Leave us alone."

The guy's face flushes with anger and embarrassment. "I just don't get you people," he says, his voice rising. "Always playing the victim card. Maybe if you weren't such prudes, you'd see how stupid this all is."

"Excuse me?" Frida's voice remains calm, but there's an edge to it now. "What did you just say?"

"You heard me," he snaps, his bravado returning. "You lesbians always think everyone's out to get you. Maybe if you tried being normal for once, you wouldn't have these problems."

Frida takes a deep breath, her eyes never leaving his. "We're not the problem here. You are. We're here to have a good time, just like everyone else. If you can't handle that, maybe you should leave."

"Oh, I'm the problem now?" he scoffs. "You two are just asking for trouble, flaunting your lifestyle in everyone's faces."

"Enough," Frida says, her voice firm but controlled. "This conversation is over. Leave us alone."

He glares at both of you, clearly frustrated. "Fine, whatever. You're not worth the trouble." He turns and stalks off into the crowd, disappearing from view.

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding and turn to Frida, who is watching you with concern.

"You okay?" she asks, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Yeah, thanks. He just wouldn't take a hint," you reply, leaning into her touch.

"I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to deal with that and I’m sorry I didn’t get to you quicker. Let's get out of here," Frida suggests softly. "This place is too crowded anyway and you need to get home before it’s dark."

You nod, grateful for her suggestion. She keeps an arm around you as you both navigate through the throng of people and out into the cooler night air. The drive home is quieter, but Frida's presence beside you is as comforting as ever.

When you reach your apartment, she unlocks the door and lets you in first, her protective instincts still in high gear. Inside, you kick off your shoes and collapse onto the couch, feeling the tension of the evening finally start to fade.

Frida sits next to you, her hand resting on your knee. "You sure you're okay?" she asks again, her eyes searching yours.

"I'm fine now," you assure her, taking her hand in yours. "Thanks for stepping in. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't."

"Anytime," she says with a soft smile. "You know I've got your back."

You lean against her, feeling safe and loved. The party might not have been what you expected, but having Frida by your side makes everything better.

“I can’t believe he said all that. I know I was tipsy but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out his intentions, in fact I think the ‘prude’ may have done it.”

“It’s best not to think about it hey. He was a total dickhead but I’m just glad your safe that’s the most important thing. Let’s just calm down now and we can talk more in the morning if need be. I’m here for you, you know that.”

The rest of the evening is spent in the comfort of your apartment, wrapped up in each other. Frida makes sure you're okay, periodically checking in with gentle touches and reassuring words. She walks you through your feelings, letting you vent about the guy and how he made you feel, always listening intently.

As the night grows later, she suggests you both watch a movie to distract from the earlier ordeal. You agree, and soon you're cuddled up on the couch, the soft glow of the TV casting a warm light over the room. Frida holds you close, her arms wrapped around you.

————-

You wake up the next morning encased by Frida’s strong arms. You both stir awake.

“You know, now that you are feeling better, I think we better discuss you downing two vodkas eh?”

#arsenal women #arsenal #football #lesbian #love #frida maanum x reader #frida maanum #arsenal women x reader #woso x reader #woso #norway

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malleusfucker · 2 years

Text

private study session

i have a shit ton of uni work but is writing smut of this man more important i think so

i live and breathe for asshole malleus y’all don’t even understand that man is a smug bastard

synopsis: your grades have been plummeting. bad. so much so that if you don’t improve, you might have to end up retaking the yearーwhich you definitely don’t want. no matter how hard you study and revise by yourself, nothing seems to stick. that was until you built up the courage to ask your close friend, malleus, if he could tutor you.

warnings: smut/nsfw, degrading, choking, lowkey hate sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mating press, reader is afab but no gender or pronouns are explicitly specified

word count: 2.8k

“oh-ho? and what makes you believe that my time will not be wasted?"

“it won’t, i swear! …please, malleus, just this once. i might have to retake the year if i don’t improve.” you shifted your feet nervously, continuing your embarrassing attempt at trying to convince the dragon fae to lend you just a slither of his intelligence. you weren’t one to beg, but at this pointーyou had to. of course, being the only non-magic student to have miraculously enrolled into NRC, it was a given your grades would be subparーbut not to this extent.

"and we certainly don't want that, do we?"

malleus's tone was condescending, apparently relishing the sight of you pleading for his help in front of him. his lips curved into a grin, and he cocked his head to one side. “i mean… that would be unfortunate if you needed to repeat the year. i do enjoy the lessons i have with you, child of man.”

your eyes widened as if he were finally giving in to your wish, like a puppy seeing a treat for the first time. “then? then…!? will you help me, malleus?”

malleus seemed thoughtfully contemplative for a few seconds. you were sure you saw a glimpse of something in his eyes for a single second. something menacing.

“fine. i’ll accept your request, child of man. you’re quite the lucky one, you know? not everyone can say that they’ve had me as their personal tutor.”

personal tutor, huh? it didn’t sound bad when he put it like that.

it was 6 p.m. malleus agreed to assist you back at your own dormーwhich surprised you slightly, but you didn’t mind. if anything, it only meant that evening was about to be spent without any disturbances.

…

it became clear that malleus was going to spend hours tutoring you like he stated he would. you sat pitifully looking at the pages in front of you as he poured information into your ears that amounted to little more than background noise. he was in the seat next to you. his body, though, was stiff. with one leg over the other and his arms crossed, it felt like being lectured about how dumb you are.

maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

but it was probably too late to back out of it now.

snap

“are you ignoring me, child of man?”

as you heard his fingers snap at you, you quickly brought your eyes back into focus to see a face brimming with frustration and irritation.

“were you even paying attention to a single word i said?”

malleus was furious. with a tone laced with something much more than frustration, you knew you messed up big. the words that came out of his mouth only made the hairs on your arms prick up, feeling your mouth get dry as he leaned in close to your face, seeing the rage in his expression ever more clearly.

he was close. too close. you were so uneasy that you were certain he would smite you on the spot if you said something stupid.

“yes..! i swear i was malleus!”

you felt his stare burn right through you, feeling as though he’d bite off your head any second. all that you could hope was that if you said “yes” enough, maybe he’d let you off easier.

that wasn’t the case.

“am i boring you? is a human’s time for daydreaming more important than mine?”

you started to shake in your seat, your heart in your throat.

“you have a lot of nerve, child of man. taking my generosity for granted, really, you are bold.”

he drew even nearer until his face was almost brushing yours. all you could do was tremble and pray that he wouldn't actually murder you at this very moment. suddenly feeling paralysed, you couldn't even gather the energy to defend yourself.

he pressed a finger on your foreheadーhardーwatching you practically unravel in front of him.

“what will it take, child of manーfor you to listen? how can we make the time left today not utterly pointless?”

he remained far too close to your face for your liking. whilst your body was about to give way any second, you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up for some strange reason. you’ve never seen malleus so close up before, it was almost an honour. you wanted to shake these stupid, borderline dangerous thoughts away, but you almost felt in awe at the anger he was expressing to youーas bad as that was.

“hoh? got nothing to say? heh, it’s almost as if you’re trying to anger me. you’re certainly the first to do such a thing, child of man.”

he moved his finger from off your forehead to your jaw, resting it under your chin as he slowly tilted your head up to look at him. you gave him a glazed-over look. it was as if every single thought in your head suddenly turned off, rendering you speechless and still. feeling his finger touch underneath your chin, you couldn’t help but sweat, your face becoming more flushed by the second.

“hmm, your face is heating up. am i embarrassing you, child of man?”

malleus was.

but even with all that embarrassment that was thoroughly washing through your entire body, you could sense a faint sensation of excitement starting to bubble. were you the masochistic type? did you actually enjoy getting humiliated by him? perhaps not, but seeing him get so riled up over youーhis face inches away from your ownーhey, maybe dying at the hands of someone like him wouldn’t be…too bad.

though, in the end, you could never hide things from malleus. if he couldn't detect your excitement from your face, something else revealed it for you. the slits in his eyes thinned, he glared at you. he could smell, ever so slightly, a hint of your arousal.

“...my. do you have a death wish?”

as soon as those words left his lipsーyou blinkedーsuddenly finding yourself having been thrown onto your desk, your back slamming onto the hardwood.

you gasped as you abruptly came out of your trance and felt him securely hold your legs as he towered over you. malleus wasted no time in entertaining those lewd thoughts your body was so clearly showingーwith a simple snap of his fingers, your clothes vanished and fell beside you. to say you were shocked to see this sudden change in him would be an understatement. you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, with how fast everything was moving, you could say he was eager butーwith that expression…

it looked as if your mere presence disgusted him.

malleus slid his hand up over your neck, wrapping his long fingers around it before slowly squeezing as he spoke.

“heh. child of man, give me one good reason why i shouldn’t kill you right here.”

your body was shaken to its core. that voiceーthat sentence alone made you feel faint. you pathetically flailed your arms around, weakly trying to release the grip he was slowly tightening on your neck. the pressure around your throat distracted you from how vulnerable you looked under him right now. naked and shiveringーmalleus started to grin and leaned close to you, gently planting a kiss on your forehead. it was strange. the kiss felt so soft on you, yet the pain you felt merely inches away couldn’t have been more different.

he laid tiny wet kisses down your forehead and jaw before snatching his other hand and slipping it between your legs, gently teasing your wet folds. something about the contrast between his touch and his kisses made you melt; you felt yourself slump lower and lower onto the desk as you embarrassedly leaked all over it. “...malleus- i’m- i’m sorry-” you wheeze, still trying to release the vicious hold he had on your neck.

his face stayed close to you, and he suddenly licked a long stripe up your neck and jaw. the sudden sensation made you twitch, moaning slightly at how warm and wet his forked tongue felt against your bare flesh.

“it’s all too late to apologise now.”

“tutoring you was an utter waste of time. now, i’d much rather try something else.”

before you could even attempt to reply, he let his hand from your neck free. you gaspedーsuddenly feeling your naked, trembling body be dragged to the edge of the desk. your mind was racing so much that you failed to hear the sound of his belt suddenly slamming against the ground. you stared off at the ceiling, your lip quivering. the whole thing seemed like a dream, albeit a strange one. your rational mind refused to accept the reality of the situationーbut your body...had never felt so hot before. it felt unbearable; you needed to be relieved. and luckily, malleus was there, leaning over with his gaze searing through you evermore.

he forcefully propped your shaking legs up against his waist with one hand, immediately snatching your face to make you look at him. however, for a moment, it looked as if he had forgotten what had led you two to be in such a predicament and simply loomed over you, staring at you. his gaze almost switched to a softer one, feeling the urge to gently caress your cheek. though that was quickly discarded, and immediately that familiar look of disgust soon reappeared on his face.

malleus moved his hips closer to yoursーfinally feeling his hard erection brush against your twitching core; you wincedーwishing you could throw your arms around him and bring him even closer to you.

malleus, however, was not in the mood to be so courteous to you and certainly didn't want to take up any more time than had already been lost.

without any preparation, you suddenly felt malleus drive one of his cocks into you. you screamed out, feeling him sliding and bottoming out of you with just one thrust. swiftly, with three of his fingers then violently thrust into your mouth, you gagged and choked, tears beginning to spill down your cheeks,

“bite down. good students know not to be noisy.”

you tried to pathetically choke out to malleus that it was too muchーyour body shook and convulsed from the agonising splitting pain of his long, hard cock bullying its way into you, poking and prodding at your cervix. you sank your nails into the desk, biting down hard on his fingers as he pushed and slammed his hips into you, your cries for help becoming louder by the second. within minutes of him thrusting into you, you felt pressure rapidly build in your stomach, causing you to clench and squeeze against him.

“oh? what’s this? don’t tell me you’re going to cum already?”

you wailed, but his insulting remarks just made you feel worse about your own increasing arousal. still choking on his fingers, you nodded frantically when you then felt sharp cramping throughout your body as if you were about to cum. he swiftly slipped his fingers out while he was still thrusting into you just so he could hear your pitiful cries.

you felt your body shudder against the desk as a wave of scorching hot pleasure swept over you, pouring and seeping down onto the hardwood under you. you tried to catch your breath, gagging and choking as you already felt so sore and painful from just one orgasm. but it was obvious that malleus wasn't through with you just yet. it was, if anything, just the start.

he gave you time to calm down, your breath slowly easing as you shut your eyes, thinking this torture had reached its end.

of course, malleus would not let you off that lightly. his rage persisted and seeing you believe that this punishment was over just made him more spiteful.

he leaned in, his breath hot, “i’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself. now put your arms around me.” his tone was once again mocking, but this time it felt more serious, like everything you did would simply enrage him more.

he suddenly forced you into a mating press, your legs wedged up against your chest as you struggled to wrap your trembling arms around his head. you cried out and started to think that your body wouldn’t be able to handle thisーthat he might actually break you.

as he started to softly drive into you, drawing more weak and muffled groans from your lips, your hands connected to the base of his horns, clutching and scraping your nails across them. he started off slow, almost giving a relaxing quality to his thrusts as he softly kissed your forehead and smiled sweetly against your face, much to your surprise. your body relaxed as a result of his sudden shift in attitude, enjoying the fleeting moments of him lovingly moving his hips against yours, which were only going to abruptly come to an end.

your eyes were closed, not being able to see the horrific smile malleus suddenly had across his face. you assumed that the strange sadistic side of him had long since vanished, as evident by your voice becoming moans of pure pleasure rather than of pain. regardless of his disposition, he enjoyed seeing you this way. seeing how you moaned so quietly and softly only made the urge to completely ruin you that much stronger.

“are you enjoying this?”

you slowly opened your eyes, malleus still gently pushing into you as you lazily nodded, whimpering as the pleasure inside you continued to become greater. “mmm…malleus. it feels so good…don’t stop.”

“heh. so you think you can tell me what to do? your disrespect truly knows no bounds.”

your growing sense of pleasure abruptly gave way to a dreadful fear as he pushed your legs higher onto your chest and over his shoulders, making it clear that he was absolutely certain you couldn't get away. not understanding what he meant, your lip began to quiver, only for him to rid you of your confusion by suddenly thrusting into you aggressively. you screamed out, tears soon welling in your eyes again as he gave you no time to acclimate to the sudden pace. he licked his lips, savouring the view of you struggling and wailing underneath him as he gradually began to envelop your neck with his fingers. he hovered his face close to yours, sticking his long, forked tongue out before sloppily kissing your lips, still continuing his ruthless pace. you groaned under him, feeling yourself beginning to choke from both his tongue and his fingers, which were slowly beginning to squeeze your throat once again.

it was all far too muchーyour vision starting to blur, and all of your senses drowning and bleeding into one another as he kept pounding his thick cock into you, causing you to harshly grip and pull his hair.

he immediately drew his face back and tutted at you, but seeing the way your eyes began to roll into the back of your head only made him want to quicken his paceーif it was even possible.

“haha…perfect. so perfect…”

the words coming out of his mouth didn’t make sense. he was praising you yet abusing you with every thrust and squeeze of your body, not even giving you a chance to cry out as your head slowly began to feel faint. all of the pain and pleasure made you lose your mind, feeling your orgasm approaching rapidly as he started to lick and nip at your ears.

he throbbed and twitched inside of you and felt his own climax begin to rise, eventually making the decision to be generous enough and remove his vice-like grasp from around your neck. you gasped and cried out, finally able to breathe and mewling as a result of his cruel touch.

“malleus...ーpleaseーit’s too…ーmuch... ’m gonna-” he smiled at your pleas, pressing your legs harder against your chest, allowing him to thrust even deeper into you.

“heh, are you going to cum? haha…then do it. cum for me.”

it seemed as if he had put you under a spell with how immediate and intense your orgasm was, your walls clenching down on his throbbing cock with tears dripping down your chin. you felt the sensation of hot, burning pleasure wrack through your body once again, not even hearing your own screams from how strong it was.

malleus didn't even allow you to come down from your high. instead, he kept pushing to reach his own climax, feeling his body start to shudder and throb as he kissed you. “i’m…close…you’ll allow me to cum inside of you, won’t you? i know you will.”

you didn’t even care anymoreーyour legs continued to shake and tremble as you feebly nodded with your eyelids flickering. it seemed like malleus would fulfil his word, for a few seconds later, he let out a moan as he unleashed and pumped copious loads of white cum into you, causing you to whimper as you felt him completely fill you up.

his breathing evened almost immediately. wiping the sweat from off your face, he delicately slid his cock out from inside of you to admire his work, gazing at the way your body jerked with his cum spilling and gushing out of your abused hole.

…

“heh. maybe tutoring you every week won’t be so bad after all.”

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zoropookie · 5 months

Text

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter twenty-six — br(ok)en (💋)

You stared at your phone light up for the twelfth time within five minutes with a dull expression.

Admittedly, you felt angrier knowing that Scaramouche still had the audacity to even text you after everything. After tormenting you for years and years, what kind of shame should someone feel after that, you wonder. The relentless pursuit of making your life miserable—to which he failed at, but it did make you wonder.

Did you do something to deserve it? Each notification felt like another jab that he took to the heart, reopening your wounds from each time he said something messed up to you. As you laid there motionless, with no light ruminating in the room except your phone, you began to feel tears well up in your eyes for the thirteenth time today.

Pursing your lips, you swiped up to read the messages and only felt reminded even further of every harsh word he said. Every cruel taunt, every moment of humiliation...and yet...

He was still right, despite being the biggest hypocrite known to man. And it pissed you off.

Why were you even laying here? Ignoring the world, rotting here like you're a vegetable. You knew that you were something to people, you knew that you were valued.

There wasn’t anything that was particularly motivating for you to get up, however. You ignored every need that you could have possibly wanted, subjecting yourself to sparseness. No matter how much you wanted to, the thoughts always came back and you didn’t know how to deal with them.

A small knock echoed from the front door. It was loud enough to hear, and you still shoved your head in the pillow and hoped it went away.

The longer time you went without answering it, the knocks became more frequent. It wasn’t Thoma, that’s who you could observe without getting up.

You finally managed to drag yourself out of bed, lazing about sounded so much nicer now that you were dreading who’s at the door. With a frustrated sigh, and irritation already to its peak of your heart, you opened the door to a familiar-ish face.

Little girl?

“Did you forget that you exist?” She said with a smile. “Welcome back to Earth! I didn’t know how long you’d be cooped up in here so I brought treats.”

You stared a bit longer than you meant to at the Tupperware of Asafiri in her hands, momentarily taken aback. “Heh?”

“Yanfei sent me here. Looks like you’re having a little bit of trouble getting back on your feet. I take it you know her?” She inquired.

“Yeah.” You blinked slowly, before holding the door a little wider. “Uh…come in, I guess. Thanks for the…treats.” You cringed. “Wow, I get why Heizou keeps being called a creep now, this can look so wrong.”

“The difference is that he does it to himself.”

The warm water on your body was oddly refreshing.

Getting out of the shower was harder knowing that you'd come back to the gust of wind in your living room, but knowing you had fresher pajamas on was also a plus. Things didn't look too great on your mental, especially since you were accustomed to showering a lot in your fresher mind.

You put on the Lightning McQueen slippers you quite often wear, and moved to the kitchen after hearing soft chops of a knife. You wondered what Nahida was up to, staring at her cut apples and bananas before putting them into a huge bowl she found in your cupboard.

"This is a very odd fruit salad you're making." You drew attention to yourself before her eyebrows furrowed. "I don't know whether or not to tell you to be careful with knives."

"I'm smarter than you think I am." Nahida cooed. "I'm used to people being condescending."

"Oh...I'm sorry— You're killing me here, kid. Lady? Are you a child or not?" You asked desperately.

Nahida turned to you, her saturated green eyes stared at you with obviously deliberate thoughts roaming her head before she took a sharp breath. She pointed the knife at you. "Do you feel better?"

"Not...really? I mean, it happened. All of this at once." You tried to process it quicker, but your head failed you. It's like how you actually felt in the moment was blocked. "I feel like I'm in limbo, I don't want to see the sun these days."

"Your thoughts are your biggest enemy right now. Easy to overthink. It's a lot to deal with on your own, good thing you aren't, right?" Nahida lowered the knife, her expression softening. "I cut you up some fresh fruit. It's better than the Asafiri for now, you don't need that much sugar after not eating for a while, or you'll crash hard. And get a headache."

Looking at the bowl loaded with bananas and slices of apples, you couldn't help but wonder why you were even granted this much care anyway. You were in mild disbelief, sitting down at the island counter in front of Nahida. "Why are you actually here?" You said in defeat.

Nahida stopped cutting the fruit, gaze shifting from it to you. She couldn't find what she could say to answer you, but she did press her lips together. "Do you want me to be honest?"

"A little." Your voice lowered.

"Yanfei and Heizou," Nahida paused, trying to find her words, "They wanted to see if I could convince you to start streaming again."

You frowned immediately. "Oh. Thanks for being honest."

"You made progress today, but I don't expect you to be up to it. It's a really big step." She asked you, but you couldn't even decipher the intentions behind her eyes. It was impossible to detect what anybody was thinking nowadays. "They just told me to come over so they can hope their investigation moves."

You sighed, leaning back in your chair once you felt the bitterness course your body again. Hearing that made your mood possibly worse than what it would've been if you were in bed. "Not happening. Thanks for checking on me though, you can leave if you want."

"I knew you'd say that. I guess it's fair, people are...going crazy right now figuring out whether you're okay or not." Nahida smiled once you looked back up at her. "Both Scaramouche and your fans are trying to get anything they can on your wellbeing. It's better to wait it out."

Your hopeful face turned into a sullen one, shoulders slumped at the mention of his name. "I don't know if I can even go back at all."

"I'm not sure how hard this is for you, but with what happened, you've obviously been through enough. While it's your choice to go back, Yanfei is under the impression that you can get revenge." The shorter girl explained. "In my eyes, though...I think you're able to decide that for yourself."

You felt the weight of the memories heavily, your head daunting enough for you to let out a shaky breath. "You think so?"

Nahida nodded, humming, "You don't have to stream, but don't give him the satisfaction if you're upset. You shouldn't let him know that you're suffering because of what he did. The worst thing that you can do is prove him right."

Funnily enough, as soon as she said that, you felt tears well up in your eyes again. It struck a cord, and you knew she was right. It was just knowing that anybody would say it verbatim. "That's the same thing he told me too." You blinked back your tears, more resilient than you were a few minutes ago, but also to the brim of misery.

"He?"

You shook your head, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. "Thanks," You muttered, choking on your words. You couldn't manage to say anything else, otherwise you'd betray your steely posture. "I'll think about it. Just...stay here a little more with me, please. Maybe I'll...find the resolve or something."

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @kunisnaomi

@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi

@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

@kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @amvpk01 @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3

@alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith

@kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan

@yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123

@strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway

@agaygothicmushroom @levianamor @dragontammerz @wth121 @lylovw

@morgyyyyyyy @lovemari @suniika @melpomenelurks @yumejo89 @liuaneee

@franaby @tiddieshakeshownu (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

#zoropookie #hhab #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin #genshin impact #genshin smau #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #genshin x yn #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x you

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luvrgreyy · 2 months

Text

THE AMERICAN DREAM

leon kennedy x f!reader

word count: 2.4k summary: living the picture perfect marriage with leon. masterlist | taglist | ko-fi

18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE. typical american marriage, mentions of abuse, throwing up, drugging/use of drugs, gaslighting, leon being mean and condescending — he’s very ooc in this one, non-con, basically somnophilia, unprotected sex, p in v, choking, slapping, spanking, spitting, fingering(vaginal and mouth), degrading language.

a/n: 100 FOLLOWER SPECIAL !! thank you so much everyone <3 sorry if the writing on this ones a little sloppy, this one’s mostly self indulgent and i was half asleep when making this so i didn’t really know what i was writing down. anyways, hope you guys enjoy this, love you all xx.

you loved your husband. your relationship was everything you’ve ever wanted. a nice house in a beautiful suburb — white picket fence and all — a doting husband, and an idyllic life that seemed straight out of a hollywood movie. each day was laced with domestic bliss.

everything was perfect, living the dream with the perfect husband. you don't even remember the fact that he took you away from your family. or that he was systematically drugging you, slipping small doses of amnesiacs into your food and drink to keep your memory fuzzy and prevent you from remembering the fact that he was basically abusing and raping you on a daily basis. the drug kept you docile and unquestioning.

sometimes, you have nightmares about it, though you can’t really remember anything, and you think they’re just things your brain like to make up.

you woke up with a start, your hands clenched tightly into fists in the bed sheets as your breath came in sharp and fast. the room was quiet, except for the soft ticking of the clock. it’s the same nightmare, the same thing that leaves you feeling disoriented and unsettled, but you can't recall the details.

you felt your husband shift behind you, his warm body pressing against yours. "mm, baby," his groggy voice rumbled sleepily, his hands slipping around your waist to pull you closer against him, a touch meant to be soothing. his chin rested against your shoulder, his lips trailing languidly across the nape of your neck. “you okay?”

“another nightmare?” he murmured lowly, sensing your unease.

"i— i'm gonna throw up,”

a slight pause and then leon sprung into action. he immediately rolled over and gently pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest while he carried you towards the bathroom.

“it’s alright, sweetheart. let it all out,” he soothed, his voice a soft, comforting murmur as he cradled you closely. he leaned you over the toilet, holding your hair back as you wretched and retched.

he held you close to him, gently massaging your back with one hand, stroking your spine soothingly with his fingers, all while using his other hand to hold your hair back.

“i’ve got you,” he whispered softly, pressing gentle kisses on the crown of your head, his arms holding you firmly yet gently as you hunched over the toilet. his free hand reaches over to grab a clean towel and wiping away any remnants of vomit from your lips.

after a few moments, your body slumped and you gasped for breath, leaning against him for support. he continued to hold you gently, running his fingers softly over your clammy skin.

"tea?" you looked up at him with hazy eyes, still feeling queasy. the room was spinning and your stomach churned at the mere thought of food. but the idea of drinking something soothing sounded nice.

"yes... please,"

he ushers you into the kitchen, fetching a tea bag and a cup from the cabinet and pouring in some boiling water from the kettle. he sets the cup on the table and takes a seat across from you.

“here,” he hands you a steaming mug of tea, his large hand brushing against yours for just a moment. you take a sip and it tastes strange — slightly bitter and with a weird aftertaste. but it does seem to ease the churning in your stomach.

he sighs in relief as you take another sip of your tea, not noticing the small pill dissolved in the cup.

“there we go, sweetheart. i know you've been feeling a bit under the weather lately. that’ll help you relax and feel better in no time,”

he smiles warmly, pretending to care about your wellbeing, when in reality he's just trying to keep you sedated so you don't realize what a hellish existence you're living.

you blinked slowly, the warm tea feeling good as it slid down your throat. the room was still spinning a bit, but you felt yourself starting to relax. leon watched you carefully, relieved that the nausea seemed to be subsiding.

“feel dizzy,” you mumble slowly.

he reached across the table to pat your hand gently. "there, there sweetheart. why don’t i take you back to bed so you can rest? you’re clearly exhausted,"

without waiting for a response, he helps you to your feet and steers you towards the bedroom. you stumble and sway on unsteady legs, unable to resist as he guides you. once you're on the bed, he covers you with a blanket and tucks you in snugly.

"oh, my poor baby.. i’ll join you in a few minutes, just gonna wash up the dishes in the kitchen."

you can barely keep your eyes open as the drug pulls you under. your last thought is wondering why you feel so tired all the time, before slipping into a deep, medicated slumber. you snuggle deeper into the blankets, your eyelids growing heavier by the second. leon lingers by the bedside, watching you with a mixture of amusement and anticipation.

soon, your breathing evens out and your body goes limp, succumbing to the drug's effects. leon smiles, satisfied. he knows he has a window of opportunity before you wake up again. without wasting any time, he quietly slips up your nightgown, exposing your tender flesh to his hungry eyes and eager touch. his hands roam freely over your body, groping and squeezing as he pleases. he reaches up and cups one breast with each hand, weighing them appreciatively.

he leans down and starts planting wet kisses across your neck and chest, staying close so you don't stir.

then he's on top of you, shoving his pants down and mounting you roughly.

your moans and protests are muffled by your sleep-addled state as he ravages you mercilessly, using his big, strong hands to hold you down and shut you up.

“l-lee—leon,” you manage to mumble.

leon silences you by reaching down and forcing two fingers into your mouth, thrusting them between your lips.

"shh, ‘ts okay baby," he hums into your ear, giving your cunt a light slap that makes you yelp around his fingers. "such a good girl, taking it so well," he praises you with a growl as he works your mouth open with his fingers, stretching your jaw wide for his invasion. your protests are swallowed by your own gag reflex as he fucks your face with no regard for your well-being.

your mind is hazy and you can't seem to rouse yourself enough to push him away. he's just too strong, too overpowering. you're at his mercy, helpless to resist as he takes what he wants.

his fingers finally slip free from your mouth, coated in saliva. he uses that same hand to roughly spread your legs further apart, pleased with how easily he’s able to violate you in your vulnerable state.

he flips you upright and pulls your hips back, exposing your pussy to the air. he runs a finger along your slit, feeling how wet he's made you.

"look at you, getting all worked up over nothing," he chuckles darkly, spreading your lips and poking his big finger into your entrance.

“so wet f’me,” he coos, sliding his finger inside you and starts to pump it, scissoring it to stretch you. you moan and wriggle against him, still only semi-conscious.

leon ignores your attempts at protest, too focused on his own pleasure. his hips start rocking, his hard cock rubbing against your thighs as he uses you like a doll. “fucking slut, getting off to this," he growls, giving your clit a harsh pinch that makes you whine. his words are thick with insincerity, a mocking edge to his voice as he uses the pet name he knows you love. in reality, he despises you and views you as nothing more than an object to use at his leisure.

you try to push him away with your sleepy hands, clawing and flailing your arms, but he pins them to the mattress easily. he's too strong, and you're too weak from the drugs coursing through your system.

“be good and stay still," he growls, smashing his mouth down on yours to muffle any screams that might escape. his tongue probes aggressively at your lips, seeking entry. you cry out as he thrusts his thick cock into your resistance, splitting you open and making you scream. his hips start pounding into you with renewed vigor, bouncing off your ass as he breeds you hard and fast. the bed creaks and shifts with each brutal thrust.

"so fucking tight," he groans, starting to piston his hips, using your throat for leverage.

he grunts and growls as he ruts into you like a beast, your body sloppily pressed against his. your head is forced to bob up and down on his cock as he thrusts, drool streaming down your chin. your muffled whimpers and protests are lost around his shaft. “look at that, you take my cock so well baby," his filthy words are punctuated by sharp smacks to your ass and thighs, keeping you off-balance and unable to fully rouse. he's relentless, using your mouth and body for his own sick satisfaction.

your struggles weaken further as the air gets cut off from your lungs. he pauses to spit in your face, the slick substance mingling with your tears and drool. “what’s the matter sweetheart? can’t breathe?" he taunts, smacking your face. "just relax, you can take it." he punctuates his words with a sharp smack to your inner thigh, making you gasp and squirm beneath him.

the bed frame creaks ominously with each powerful thrust, threatening to give way and spill you both to the floor. his hands are everywhere, gripping your hips, pulling your hair, slapping your ass. he's completely lost in his own pleasure, using you as a means to an end. you try to squirm away from him, but it's futile. he's too strong, and you're too drowsy. he simply reaches up and clamps a hand over your mouth, muffling any cries for help.

"quit fucking squirming," he growls. but somehow, he’s lying. he wants you to fight back, to struggle and make it harder for him. it's more exciting that way. your throat burns as he continues to use it as leverage, twisting your head with every brutal thrust. tears stream down your cheeks, your eyes squeezed shut in fear and pain.

saliva and juices run down your thighs as he slams into you without mercy. your mind is fuzzy and disconnected, unable to fully process the assault on your body. all you can do is endure, a ragdoll for leon to use and abuse as he sees fit.

"atta girl," he hisses. "take it, baby." he punctuates his words with another sharp smack to the ass, the sting adding to your growing pile of discomfort.

you can only moan and mewl in response, too far gone to resist. your body is numb, your mind foggy and detached.

you try to nod, too weak to do anything but comply. he loosens his grip on your throat and moves his hand back to your hip, pulling you against him roughly. his cock throbs inside you, swelling up further as he gets close to coming.

"fuck, gonna cum," he warns, his hips redoubling their pace. you moan helplessly as he breeds you hard and fast, the bed creaking and shifting under you. he slaps your ass hard twice, the sound echoing in the room. he groans, coming with a loud grunt. your body is wracked with shudders as he fills you with his cum, your cunt clamping down on his shaft to milk him for every drop.

when he finally pulls out, you're left gasping and sputtering, drool dripping down your face. you lie there in stunned silence afterwards, sprawled beneath him in a puddle of your own fluids. leon collapses on top of you, pinning you to the bed as his chest heaves with exertion.

you're still drifting in and out of consciousness when leon rolls off of you and onto his side, facing away from you. your mind is a fog, struggling to process the events that just transpired. a small sob escapes your lips as you try to make sense of the pain, confusion, and shame that's flooding through you.

after what felt like an eternity, leon reaches over and pulls you into his side, pressing your body close to his. you can feel his warmth, his heartbeat, away his arms are uncomfortably resting atop your skin.

slowly but surely, the fog in your mind starts to clear. you become aware of the dull ache in your throat, the soreness of between your legs, and the disgust you feel for yourself.

fresh tears spring to your eyes as the reality of your situation comes crashing down on you.

"shh, calm down baby," he whispers, stroking your hair soothingly. but his touch is cold and clammy, sending shivers down your spine.

your body feels heavy and numb, your mind hazy and disconnected. slowly, your eyes flutter open. the room is blurry, the edges fuzzy. you try to move, but your limbs feel like lead. leon's face swims into view, his features distorted. "you had a bad dream," he murmurs, his voice sounding distant.

"just another nightmare, sweetheart. it’s okay, i'm here." his words are slurred, his face wobbly. you try to focus, but it's impossible. your vision starts to tunnel, fading to black. the last thing you hear is leon's gentle humming, lulling you back to sleep.

when you wake again, you'll have no memory of the nightmare, no recollection of the way he violated and degraded you. the drug will ensure that. all you'll know is that you slept fitfully and woke up feeling unwell.

tags: @crowleyco @arcane5019

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