#and my hair is up so he was just kind of scratching my head w his fingertips almost and im sorry i love head scratches i am a cat maybe

[nanaslutt]

pls super nasty smut w todo where we are his favorite idol 🙏

Todo FUCKS and i know it………

contains: fem reader, fanboy!Todo, protected sex, quickie, hair pulling, dirty talk, rough sex, backshots, dacraphillia, using panties as a gag :3

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Todo had been waiting for this moment his whole life.. he was finally going to meet his idol. The large man stood behind a group of shorter guys, all giggling as they watched you hug a sweet-looking fan. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest, he was so close he could smell your perfume. Just the annoyingly giddy group of boys in front of him and it would be his turn.

He had gone over this exact moment over and over in his head. You looked so pretty in your light pink dress, frilly thigh highs to match, that squished the fat of your thighs at the top, making his eyes roll back in his head in disbelief at how anyone could look so perfect. Todo had been a fan for years, he had watched every show you had been on, every special, he had seen every magazine, poster, and any form of media there was of you he had seen; he would like to own all of it but his collection was quite impressive already.

"Thank you for your support!" You spoke kindly, averting your body to shake hands with the boys instead of hugging them. You could tell he looked dejected, but the boy smelled like BO and you had noticed his lock screen when he went to take a selfie with you-- it was of a young-looking anime girl in a bikini.. not exactly the kind of guy you wanted up in your personal space, but by the way he gripped his hand and stared at it in awe when he walked away you could tell he was more than satisfied.

You sighed, growing tired from meeting all the fans, sure you loved seeing all their cute faces and tears of appreciation, some even bringing you gifts, but you had been standing in the same spot for almost five hours now, the heels you were wearing felt like they were slowly melting into your feet and becoming one with the skin. You looked over to your manager, keeping a faux smile on your face as you did so, but widening your eyes to let her know you were going to cry if you didn't get a break soon.

"U-um, H-hello my name is Todo Ali Its-" A deep voice broke you out of your silent plea to your manager, snapping your neck to behind you a man more than twice your size stood in front of you, fiddling with his hands in his pockets as he took everything in. You knew you had quite the male-dominated audience, but this man didn't fit the description for your usual fans.

He was handsome, extremely fit; so much so it looked like his pecs were going to burst through his shirt and you could faintly make out the indents of his abs; he smelled amazing, which was refreshing after all this teen boy musk, his voice sent tingles down your spine, and he hadn't immediately tried to touch you in some way when he stepped into your space. "Hi there big guy~" You responded, reaching your arm out to grab onto his bicep, stroking it friendly (also simultaneously trying to cop a feel.)

Todo blushed, you were touching him right now, not just touching him you were stroking his arm. He had to take a deep breath in order to not pass out. "I've been a fan for so long when I found out you were coming to Kyoto I-" Your giggles cut him off, your sharp acrylics lightly scratching down his arm as you pulled one of his hands out of his pockets and took it in yours; you couldn't help but notice how much larger it was than yours. "I'm so glad you came Todo~" You cooed, swinging your hips in circles as you looked up at him from under your lashes.

Todo froze, his face turning an even darker shade of crimson. He gulped, watching you caress his fingers with your smaller, more delicate ones. You were so much shorter in real life, the size difference between the two of you was making his brain short circut, and simultaneously all of the blood that was being drained from his head was getting sent to.. another head. "Y-yeah?" He replied, giving you a quick one over before he swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth.

A lightbulb went off in your head at that moment. This was a handsome man who looked to be about the same age as you, he looked like he could bend you in every way your body would allow him to, and you bet he wanted to, from the way he was blushing and shaking with adrenaline. He must've thought he was being sneaky when he would steal glances down the low cut of your dress that showed off a generous amount of your cleavage.

You're not sure where this sudden arousal came from. Maybe a combination of being an idol with such a strict team; never allowing you enough time to go on dates; your exhaustion, you were on your ovulation week.. and Todo had been the first person you saw today who was handsome AND didn't try to invade your personal bubble in some way; combined with all the other amazing things about him. You were about to go on a break anyways, this might just be perfect, you thought.

"Yeah~ It's so refreshing to see someone like you here, you're so handsome and you speak so politely ~" He felt his pants get tighter at the compliment, briefly looking down at them he prayed you wouldn't see the imprint through his pants. You looked around, making sure no one was close enough to hear before you leaned it, standing on your tippytoes you used one of your hands to steady yourself on his solid chest. Taking the thin material of his shirt between your fingers, you pulled him down so your lips were by his ear.

"To be honest, a lot of these guys are sooo creepy~" Todo could feel his heartbeat in his fingertips, the loud beat of his racing heart almost drowning out your sultry voice, "But you would never treat me like them.. would you Todo?" The man was sure he was at full attention down there, he tried to adjust his shirt subtly enough so you wouldn't see him while you were by the crook of his neck, but he was sorely mistaken. You grabbed his wrist, stopping him from covering the now very obvious tent in his pants.

From what you could tell, the outline looked huge, what about this man wasn't? You smiled at him, tipping your head to the side. "I've never done this before, but I think I like you Todo~" You spoke. The world seemed to slow down, everything around you besides your voice was drowned out in the man's ears as you spoke your next words. "I'm about to take a little break, wanna help me relax?" Todo swallowed, hard, before nodding his head and watching a sinister little smile appear on your face.

--

"Fuck f-fuck Ohm-" A massive hand slapped over your mouth, muffling your loud cries. "Shhh pretty girl, stay quiet for me okay? Know you can." Todo cooed. Was this really the same man who was blushing and stuttering just a couple minutes ago when you finally met for the first time? He must've imagined the exact scenario before because he was fucking giving it to you.

Todo stood behind you, your back to his chest, arched agaisnt his pelvis as he fucked into you harder than anyone has. He had one hand wrapped around your body, rubbing your sensitive clit between his fingers and his other hand was pressed over your mouth. One of your hands was steading yourself agaisnt the sink ledge, the other gripping his wrist as you looked at him with teary eyes and scrunched eyebrows through the little bathroom mirror he was fucking you in front of.

Your panties had been pulled down your thighs hastily and stored away safely in Todo's pants. "That's a good girl~ Fuck, you look so pretty." He groaned. You watched his eyes look down between where the two of you were connected, shaking his head and his jaw dropping in a little o as he watched his thick cock split you open, your sore walls having to make quite the stretch to fit him inside. "Your pussy is eating me up-" He moaned, pulling his lip between his teeth as he gave you harsh thrusts, relishing in the loud squelches that met his ears.

"You needed this, huh?" He asked, bringing his eyes up to make contact with yours once more. You nodded against his hand, tears of pleasure falling down your face at the precision with which he was fucking straight into your sweet spot, making your legs feel like jello. Todo let up on your clit, his hand digging in his pocket briefly before he pulled out your panties. His hips stilled against your ass, burring his cock as deep as he could inside you as he released the hand on your mouth, brining the other holding your panties to meet your lips.

He balled them up before pressing them agaisnt you, "Open." He instructed. You were quick to follow, opening your mouth you let him press the fabric between your lips, the taste of yourself flooding onto your tongue when he used two fingers to push the fabric deeper into your mouth, making sure you would keep in in. "Good girl." His deep voice praised, making you giggle against the fabric. You were able to notice when all the motion from his thrusting ceased that he was shaking like a leaf.

You were wondering how he was staying so calm and composed, but in reality, he wasn't all that composed. Todo was grateful for the short break when he pushed your panties into your mouth; using them as a gag so he could use his hands elsewhere. Truthfully every time he looked into the mirror and caught your eyes on him he felt like he was going to cum, it was a miracle he was able to hold out for this long. The only thought keeping him going was not to embarrass himself in front of you, but god the though of cumming inside his favorite idol was right there on the forefront of his brain with it.

He pushed your lower back down into a mean arch, your forearms resting against the sink as you waited with bated breath for him to continue. He knew you didn't have a lot of time, so if he was going to bring it home soon he was gonna make sure you had the best orgasm on his cock before you went back out there. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, gripping strongly before he started fucking into you again, this time rougher and faster than before.

Immediately cries and muffled wines filled the room, more tears quickly welling up in your eyes as he bullied his cock into your tight cunt, yanking your head back by your hair to make your arch deeper. Surely he was messing up your hair, and your makeup would absolutely need a touchup, but you couldn't exactly find it in yourself to care at the moment. Todo's groans and heavy breathing into your ear was so erotic, making the coil in your stomach tighten with your impending orgasm.

"Fuck, I can't believe I have you on my dick like this." He breathed exasperatedly, his eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure. "And you're crying from it-" He finished, yanking your hair back, resulting in a loud wine from you, the fabric doing little to conceal that one. "Todooo~" You spoke his name through the fabric, the sound successfully reaching his dick, making it jump inside you. Todo grit his teeth, without a second thought he released your hair and ripped the panties out of your mouth, throwing them down on the sink.

He grabbed the side of your face, not letting up his incessant hips as he fucked into your sloppily, his hips losing rhythm, "A-again say my name again-" Todo begged against your lips, your skin grazing each other as your slack jaw moaned against his mouth. "F-fuck Todo!!" You cried, resulting in a groan from the man as he pressed your lips together, slotting his tongue with yours in a messy kiss, filled with lust and need. "Again." You heard him speak against your lips, his thrust speeding up, you felt your own arousal drip down your thighs.

"Todo-" thrust "Again." thrust "Fuck! F-fuuck! Todo I'm cumming, you're gonna make me c-cum!" You gasped into his mouth. He quieted you with his own, his moans increasing in volume as his own high rapidly approached him. At the exact moment, your jaw went slack against his lips as he felt your cunt squeeze him rhythmically, his own orgasm crashed over him. "C-cumming- f-fuck-" He pretended his cum wasn't currently filling up the condom he had on, and instead was shooting deep inside you, filling up your womb.

Your legs were shaking and wobbling as you came around him, his shallow thrusts working you through one of the most intense orgasms you've ever had. Todo groaned long and loudly against your lips, both of your jaws open and eyes squeezed shut as the two of you rode out the aftershocks of your orgasms together. The room was filled with your pants and gasps as the two of you frantically tried to catch your breath. "Fuck.. thank you, did so good, thank you," Todo whispered.

You turned your head forward once more, staring at Todo behind you, who currently had his eyes glued to your cunt as he slid his massive softening girth out of the comfort of your warm walls. You winced in overstimulation as he slid out of you, leaving your walls with a lewd squelch. "Sorry, are you feeling alright?" He asked, holding your hips in his large hands and rubbing the skin there. "I'm more than alright Todo, my legs are a little compromised but other than that I'm alright~" You reassured, rubbing your hand atop his, making his blush deepen.

The man looked back down between the two of you as he started pulling the used condom off of his cock, cringing at the feeling. "Todo." Your voice echoed into his ears, making him look up at you, blushing at the use of his name--he would never get sick of it. "I'm not leaving this room till I have your number in my phone." You said, picking up your cutely decorated phone from the sink in front of you and waving it side to side.

You've never seen someone nod so eagerly in your life, making you giggle. "Need to take care of you first." He said, kissing the back of your neck, throwing the tied condom in the trash by his feet before his hands started to make work on smoothing out your wrinkled dress. "Todo, I have an entire team out there for that, you can take care of me by putting my mind at ease and letting me know that this will happen again, by giving me~ your phone numberrr~" You drawled, turning your body around as he held your hips, your hand pressing the device into his chest.

The man hesitantly took your phone in his hand, staring at you with disbelief. You leaned into his large frame, pressing a kiss to his solid chest and making him gasp before you pulled back, bringing your hand up to his head to push away any stray hairs he had, "I like you, you better call me~"

[bloodlust-1]

Would you be okay with writing something with a Tav who is a virgin that is kind of scared of sex but still desires Astarion?

Totally! I imagine Astarion to be completely shocked, but relieved. Why? Tav would never have to experience the sexual abuse he had. Some lovey-dovey Astarion, anyone?

Hope this is good enough anon! <3

˚ ° A purity like yours ° ˚ part 1

Astarion x fem Tav — fluff, Explicit 18+

Summary: Tav has a secret that’s been heavy on her heart. Her virginity was a topic she ran away from, but it’s time for Astarion to know the truth.

Notes: I LOVE making companions in love, it makes me whelm all up inside🥹 Not exactly smut, but talks of explicit topics. Part 2

Tav sat quietly, her eyes focused on the floor as Astarion licked the last of her blood from his lips. Tav was unusually silent and he wasn't sure what was bothering her so much of lately.

He paused and narrowed his eyes, "You're rather quiet this feeding, my sweet. Is something wrong?"

Tav lifted her head slightly and looked up at Astarion. "I'm just...thinking," she said softly.

To Astarion, Tav was always thinking of lately. Especially when he's done feeding from her. He was confused if maybe he had done anything wrong? Was she having any doubts about their relationship?

Astarion brushed Tav's hair away from her eyes and smiled. "About what?"

Tav looked away again, her brows furrowed in concentration. "Just...us, and our intimacy." She shook her head, pushing away the thoughts. "It doesn't matter. I'm alright."

Astarion cupped Tav's face in his hands and looked into her eyes. "It does matter. Tell me, what's wrong?"

Tav sighed. "I feel so...embarrassed." She mustered any courage to finally look at him, her eyes glistening. "I feel like there should be something more to this. W-When you feed from me, I mean."

Astarion tilted his head confused, "You're embarrassed because you want to do something more?"

Admittingly he was blank. But when Tav opened her mouth his eyes widened in - anticipation. Even his ears pointed up with shock.

Tav didn't know which stung more, the fresh punctures on her neck or her confession.

"I just want to make you feel good and I want to have sex with you but-"

Tav bit down on her lower lip, she could feel the heat running into her eyes as her vision became blurry. "I just don't know how...I've never had sex before."

Tav finally allowed the emotions that had been building up inside her to come pouring out. She felt a deep sense of relief, but at the same time, a wave of shame washed over her. She felt embarrassed for even having to ask Astarion for sex, feeling naive and inexperienced.

At the same time, Tav felt so inadequate when it came to physical intimacy; Astarion was the only one who had any sort of skill in that area. And it made her feel so small.

Astarion's expression softened as he realized what Tav had been hiding from him. "...No -...you?"

Tav wiped away the single tear, nodding.

Astarion felt his face burning as his heart raced and his palms grew sweaty. Tav was absolutely stunning and he had been wondering why she had grown so flustered and shy when her body trembled and begged for him. Now it all made sense.

"But..." Astarion cut himself short in the midst of his thoughts, overwhelmed by the magnitude of her offer.

He was taken aback by her beauty, her inexperience, and her willingness to give him something so special, something so treasured and valuable.

But Astarion felt undeserving - he couldn't help but feel guilty. He knew she deserved much better and that her virginity was too precious to give to someone like him.

He chuckled softly and scratched the side of his head, "I am the worst person for this." Meaningful sex? This was completely foreign to him. How could she even ask him that? Of course, he wanted her more than anything.

He leaned over and with the pad of his thumb, he wiped away Tav's damped cheek, "Now, now, little love." His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer until she sat on his lap. "You should not feel ashamed of something like this. I mean, look at me."

Astarion's ears lowered in shame as he half smiled, "I can't remember half the people who used my body. I wish I knew a purity like yours." He rested his head on Tav's shoulder, "I'm just relieved you will never feel what I've felt."

Astarion felt protective towards Tav more than ever, he wanted to keep her safe. No harm would come to her as long as he was there to watch over.

Tav threaded her fingers between his white curls, sniffling away the embarrassment, "I want to feel you in every way possible, even if you think you're unworthy." Her lips connected with the skin of his forehead. "You were always special to me, Astarion."

He shifted his head up, catching the glisten in Tav's eyes. She chose him and still continues to each day. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?" He scuffed sarcastically before pulling Tav into a kiss.

His hands gently caressed her spine down into her back dimples. Astarion felt Tav shudder under his hold. She started to breathe heavily into the kiss, "I want you to know how much I love you..." Her eyes locked with his.

"Darling, you don't need to prove yourself with your body." The tension around them went soft and he held tightly onto her body, laying them both down against Tav's bedding.

Astarion cuddled Tav closely against his chest in an embrace. "On a perfect night, when the sky is clear and the environment is forgiving, I will take you into me and make you feel things you've never felt before. Ecstasy, my love."

"What if I don't know what to do?" Tav nervously glanced up at Astarion, who was quietly gazing out into the distance while gently stroking her hair. He was trying to be patient and not pressure her into making any decisions.

He wanted to take her under a bed of stars, and tonight he just wanted to hold her in his arms. Shield her from anything like he wished someone did for him. He would be that somebody he needed so long ago.

"I'll teach you, of course." He reassured her softly, still stroking her hair.

"You're not the only one who would be learning something." He peeked down at Tav, a smile tugging on his lips smugly.

"What, how?

Astarion's hands ran down Tav's side. His touch was gentle yet confident as he moved lower and lower. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear, telling her how beautiful and perfect she was. "I need to learn what gets you hot - "

Astarion smiled slyly as he felt her body react to his touch, knowing that he was driving her wild. His hands moved with a sensual grace as if they had done this many times before. "Where you shiver - "

"Where it hurts - " his hand gripped Tav's ass firmly, making Tav blush and squirm. Astarion continued to fondle Tav's ass, enjoying the feel of it in his hands and the way that the heat from Tav's skin seemed to seep into his own.

He leaned over Tav's ear, whispering teasingly, "Where you would want me to cum. Inside your tight cunt, or outside your soft stomach…"

Tav's body grew hot and her heart raced as Astarion's hand explored her body. She gazed up to look at him, her eyes wide with surprise and pleasure. Astarion smiled and leaned in to kiss Tav, their lips lingering together as he continued to caress Tav's ass. Intertwining their tongues together in a harmonious dance. She felt herself melting into his embrace, her body trembling with pleasure.

After what felt like an eternity, Astarion finally pulled away, and a satisfied smile tugged his lips. Tav blushed deeper, wondering what Astarion was thinking.

He chuckled, leaning in to kiss Tav's cheek. "You're so beautiful," his voice low and husky. Tav felt the aching between her legs, but she smiled, feeling her heart swell with happiness instead.

Sex was a scary thing for Tav. However, Astarion made her feel safe and seen, so maybe it was all in her head. She looked forward to when Astarion would take her as his.

They lay there in each other's arms for a while, their bodies intertwined in a peaceful embrace. Love was more than just sex, and it proved a hell of a point to them both.

Part 2 here

Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!

[fleurhcss]

Channie being a proper dom like really intimidating n stuff- when you first signed a contract w him you kind of just misjudged him as more of a sweet guy

That's sound so interesting so I'm taking this request very happily 🤍🤍 let's make this as a sort of fifty shades 🥰🎀

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚. 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐒𝐨 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 - Chan x FEM Reader!

cw : something like 50 shades ??, contractual sex, co-workers/boss, possessive hard dom chan, naive reader, you though he was a sweet guy but he's an actual daddy

sw : hair pulling, choke kink, anal, blowjob, scratching, hard dom, little mention of blood, spanking, size kink, thigh humping, breast playng, biting, marks, fingering

wc : 6.6k

synopsis : You always did your work with dedication and diligence, your boss Bang Chan always complimented you for every job you completed on time. He was always very kind to you, always smiling and helpful when you needed help. You never expected that one night, when you were working overtime, he would approach you and ask you to come to his office to sign a new contract that would give you a promotion. Too bad, maybe not too bad, it was a completely different contract. This led to a new kind of passion that you never thought you'd get caught up in. And that Bang Chan was not as sweet as he showed you during the day.

a/n : hii, i'm back with another fic ! This was a request so I hope anon can enjoy this like all of u 🩷 it was so exciting to write and i hope u could like it - im obsessed with dom but apparently sweet Chan 🫣🫣 Enjoy 🫶🏻

[ HARD SMUT ]

It was another typical working day for you, you were sitting comfortably in your chair, going through the last of the papers your colleague had sent you for final checking. You had gotten a little hungry and had started to munch on some carrots, taking them out of your lunch box. You worked as a secretary for a big company, so you had to check all your colleagues' work and correct any mistakes before sending it to your boss: Bang Chan. A lot could be said about him as he was truly a man of gold. He was always kind and helpful to all his subordinates and to you, his secretary, he was no less, always greeting you with a smile and a pat on the back. You couldn't even deny how attractive he was, you were really lucky to have such a boss. Bang Chan was like the forbidden dream of every employee in the company, even the older ladies. He was a not so tall man, well built and very muscular. A distinct sense of style and elegance and a face like few others. Simply gorgeous, you thought.

Nothing had changed that day either, Chan had arrived smiling, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, no tie and his jacket in his hands. He had walked up to you and patted you on the back, smiling as if you were good friends. "Good work, Y/N, I want you in my office tonight to discuss a new contract." He said as he squeezed your shoulders and walked into his office. You were almost out of breath when he touched you. His hands were warm and you felt as if he wanted to hold you. But it was all in your head and he was your boss, certain things were not appropriate. You wondered what kind of contract he was talking about, since you had been promoted just two weeks ago - and with it a pay rise. Now you were very curious. It didn't take you long to ask your colleagues if Chan had been giving out raises lately. The man never ceases to surprise you.

You could see him making himself comfortable at his desk, taking off his jacket to give you a good view of his blue shirt, which clung well and perfectly to every single muscle. The man was truly amazing, a walking constant provocation, and of course you felt a little guilty having certain thoughts about him, which did nothing but show you sweetness and dedication to his work, as well as respect for you. You spent your morning working hours before your lunch break reviewing documents and glancing at your boss as he received corporate clients in his office with a beaming smile. Sometimes you wondered how he could smile so sweetly at everyone....

You could hear your colleague muttering things like "but what's he smiling about" or "why does he always have that happy expression on his face", well bless him? Chan had never shown his employees that he was tired or angry, except once when your company was fined for a cheating customer. You remember Chan's angry expression as he shouted in his office, the vein in his neck throbbing. And it was typical of your colleague to sulk about everything, wondering what he was doing there if he hated the job, when his boyfriend, Chan's childhood friend by the way, had suggested he go to work with him. But that was how Hyunjin was, you remembered when he described the pain in his bottom after sex with his friend Changbin in his dramatic way.

"You know what Chan is like, Hyune, he never gets tired of doing what he likes," you chuckled, catching a small, pouty smile from your friend. "Are you busy tonight?" he asked as he approached you with his chair. "Chan asked me to come to the office to review the contract, I have no idea what it's about," you threw your head back in frustration. "That sucks, I wanted to get something to eat, Changbin is busy with Jisung in a new group they are producing," you smiled at Hyunjin's adorable pout and tussled his hair, causing another pout.

Time seemed to fly from that morning, so much so that you found yourself sitting at the cafeteria table with your best friend Ryujin and Hyunjin, having lunch as usual and gossiping about your colleagues. Unfortunately, you weren't sure where the conversation was going when your best friend opened up about none other than Chan. "In my opinion he fucks hard, I mean look at him," she said, causing you to choke on a vegetable thread. You looked at her in a mixture of shock and bewilderment, then at the man himself, who had rolled up his shirt sleeves to show off his buff arms. "He gives me the impression of a vanilla with all those sweet smiles he gives out, although Bin says one of his exes left him because she couldn't sustain his sex life," at which point you also choked on water. But were these conversations to be sustained over lunch?

"Why exactly are we talking about how Chan fucks, in the cafeteria and with him just a few steps away from us?" you asked, quite confused by the situation. Your friends were out of their minds. "You haven't said a word, what do you think he's like?" Ryujin asked cheekily, leaving you speechless for the umpteenth time, and you let out a long sigh before answering. "In my opinion, he's sweet, I don't see him doing dirty things in bed or in general," Ryujin burst out laughing and you blushed at your own words. "But have you seen him? That minimum will destroy you!" she said, convinced of her words. You swallowed the last bites of your lunch before choking again. Sure, you had some thoughts, but certainly not in a place where the whole company you work for could hear you. You left each other laughing and went back to your desk, where you stayed until closing time, when your friends said goodbye to you.

You were reluctant to knock on your boss's office door, you could see through the glass walls that he was concentrating on printing out various papers and wondered why he had not asked you as his assistant, then he raised his head and smiled at you, signalling for you to enter his office, there anxiety pervaded you. You did as he asked and were greeted with a warm smile and a gallant invitation to sit down in front of his desk, which he leaned on. "So, I've called you in to discuss an exclusive contract as my personal assistant, let's say I've upgraded it a bit: I'd like you to move into my house from Tuesday to Friday and also to accompany me on my business trips, which will become more frequent as I've expanded our partnerships, and I'd like to discuss a much more... delicate side of the contract over dinner, perhaps over a nice glass of wine. I just wanted to let you know today. Come to dinner at my house on Saturday, you will have the correspondence, you can sign the contract extension and know the rest," he smiled.

But your brain had been given too much information to digest and process, you had stopped at the moving out in his house part... You didn't know how to react to the news, it had all been so unexpected that you still had to process it, and he understood that well from your expression, which was a mixture of confusion and disbelief. He laughed - and no, Chan, there was nothing to laugh about - "Well, I understand it's a lot of information, you don't have to answer me right away, we'll talk more about it on Saturday, like I said," he gave you another sweet smile and you nodded, trying to return it and getting up from your chair you saw that he had already started to turn everything off and had followed you to the exit. "Good night, Chan," you whispered with a small bow, which he returned with a smile and a pat on the head that made you blush. "Good night, Y/N."

Ryujin and Hyunjin would have liked that.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

"He proposed to you WHAT?" Hyunjin almost shouted when you told him what Chan had told you in his office that evening. You were still in a state of disbelief; in short, living under the same roof as your boss was not exactly the best ... Especially when you felt guilty about fantasising about him after he had been so nice to you. "Yes, I'm still in shock and I have exactly three days to think about it, because he wants to have dinner with me at his house on Saturday," you whispered as if you were intimidated, and well, you definitely were a bit. So much so that the three days went by quickly and you were still standing in front of your boss's house. Hyunjin had been kind enough to be your stylist and you were sure that he had done his best to make you sexy, had even advised you to throw yourself into the experience, Chan certainly wasn't going to eat you up.

Or so you thought.

But Chan was a man of many surprises, and he was about to prove it. When he opened the door, you saw an Adonis, an ethereal Greek god smiling at you, opening the gates of Olympus. He was magnificent and uniquely beautiful, a man like few others, you thought. The tight white turtleneck accentuated every single muscle in that chest - from the pecs to the belly, you could count them one by one - and the dark denim trousers wrapped well-trained thighs, and you let your mind wander a little too much. You wore jeans that were a little tight from the thighs down to the ankles, a black lace top that allowed a glimpse of your bra - damn you, Hyunjin - and a simple jacket suit of the same colour. Your shoulders were crossed and you watched as Chan invited you in with a beaming smile. "Please, come in and give me your jacket, the dining room is that way, I'll be there in a few minutes."

It was certainly a nice apartment, modern, bright and very spacious for one person, so much so that you wondered if he might sometimes feel lonely in this environment. Then you remembered his suggestion and blushed. You made your way to the well-appointed dining room, where the food was well served and covered with special thermal lids to keep it from getting cold. "Here I am, Y/N, please have a seat, I went to get the paperwork for later. How about we start with a good glass of red wine? This is very good, a friend of mine sent it to me from Italy, imagine that," he chuckled and then moved your chair and made you sit down. He really was such a kind, decent, gentle man. So sweet. It suddenly occurred to you that it might be a good idea to share a roof with him. He sat across from you, sipping some wine and putting a piece of steak in his mouth. What lips, you thought. You looked like a maniac.

"I'm sure everything will be delicious, and besides, I love red wine," you reassured yourself, unaware that he knew the detail because he had asked Changbin to ask Hyunjin, who, being scatterbrained as he was, had not suspected anything. "Oh well, lucky shot. So, have you thought about my proposal these days, sweetheart?" for a moment you forgot how to speak in front of the nickname. "Um, yes, I'm very much inclined to accept your proposal," you told him as you drank some wine, you needed it, and a lot of it, otherwise you wouldn't have survived the evening. His eyes lit up and he smiled at you, he was really handsome, damn. "I'm very happy that you accepted, there's just one more... delicate additional clause that I'd like to talk to you about. You're not obliged to accept it, of course, and it won't affect the contract I mentioned before, it's a separate thing, let's say another contract", you were confused, what else could he want from you? With your glance you encouraged him to go on.

"That's it, I've been alone for a long time without a woman by my side and the physical needs are starting to kick in. My last serious relationship ended because she was, so to speak, unable to support me in bed. So I need a woman who I consider to be strong and stable as well as beautiful like you, and since we will be together most of the time, I thought we could take advantage of that. Of course I have inquired whether you have someone at your side or not, I would never allow myself to ask such things of a taken girl, much less are you obliged to accept. I also want to emphasise that I do not see you as an object to vent my sexual pleasures, I have great respect for you. Having said that, I look forward to hearing what you think."

Your face was indescribable at that moment, your fork hanging in the air, your mind urging you to accept such an absurd proposal. It was amazing, by the way, how he was such a sweet gentleman and so respectful to even ask you such a thing. It almost made you hate him. But the truth was that you were quite tempted, even though you shouldn't be. "Excuse me, I have to go to the toilet," he said, understanding your surprise and not being hurt by it, he took a sip and wiped his lips before showing you where to go. Where, by the way, it didn't take you long to make a group video call and tell your best friends what you had gotten yourself into.

"I'd love to accept, I mean have you seen him? He's definitely going to fuck like hell," said your best friend. "Accept, what have you got to lose? You're sexually frustrated and haven't had sex in ages, not to mention that your taste in men sucks. He's a gift from heaven right now," Hyunjin said, since when was he so wise? And he was right, after all, neither of them had anything to lose.

When you returned to where you were sitting, you drank the Goblet in one go: "I'm in, what do I need to sign?" you said. Chan's eyes lit up, a mixture of disbelief and satisfaction. "I've got all the contracts over there, calling me by my name, and you don't know how happy you've made me. Obviously we're not starting tonight, I'll help you get your things over here, and if either of us feels like it on Monday, maybe we can try something," he smiled broadly at you, and you really couldn't help but smile back.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

When you arrived at work on Monday morning, your best friend gave you a sly look because you had texted him about the rest of the evening with your boss - now boss with benefits? - who, after dinner, had accompanied you to his office to sign the rest of the contract, not forgetting to caress your skin or wrap his arms around your waist. You had noticed that he was a man who sought physical contact and was very affectionate. Ever since he had promoted you to be his personal assistant, he had not missed an opportunity to pat and squeeze your back as a sign of encouragement.

He had offered you more wine and shown you around his apartment, which was very large indeed, he had a sort of library room, you were surprised to see how many books he had, and most of them he had read. He had taken you into his garden where he had a small vegetable garden and small flower beds and finally, after showing you what would be your room, he had taken you into another study where there were musical instruments and other tools whose names you did not know. He had just confessed to you his passion for music, which he practised on his days off, sometimes in the company of Changbin and his friend Jisung.

You were shocked that one man could have so many passions and still find time for everything. He looked like Clark Kent, but without the glasses and the weird superpowers.

By the time you had taken your seat, Hyunjin had given you another look, pointing out a beaming, smiling Chan in his office - which was not much different from the usual one, but he had a different aura than his usual working days. When he saw you, he gave you a smile and a wink that made you blush and even earned you an elbow from your friend to tease you, you had not yet settled into your new job, but already that morning some of Chan's employees had come to pick up your things, you would not be there for a whole week, so you did not have to bring everything exactly, but the essentials you would surely need, after all they had also brought suitcases and bags full of personal belongings, clothes and things like that.

He signalled you to follow him to his study, and as soon as you turned on your computer, you proceeded to him. The question, "Good morning, sweetheart, how are you?" was somewhat unexpected, although not because he could not ask you the question, but because you were expecting a different kind of question. However, we were discussing Chan, and he was still the sweetest guy you knew. This prompted you to consider whether there might be a side of him that he had yet to reveal in private. "Um well, you?" you rocked back on your heels. "I'm fine. So we're going home together tonight, my boys have finished bringing your things, you just need to get them set up in your room. I would like to request your assistance in my home office for a few additional hours. A significant contract must be negotiated with a German company. Additionally, I would like to spend some time with you." He whispered this last sentence, and, besides blushing, you experienced a physical sensation of goose bumps. His gaze was different, more penetrating, with a different light, and his voice had dropped an octave. You observed what you believed to be a change in his eyes, which appeared darker and more intense. This observation was accompanied by a sensation of trembling in your legs.

Your underwear was visibly moist; however, if he had observed your state, it was unclear how he would have react. He dismissed you by returning to your usual work room after you nodded off, and when Hyunjin saw you in such a state, he did nothing but tease you until lunch. That was when Ryujin joined in. Your expression was comically pathetic, and the two of them would not stop teasing you. At this sight, Chan , who was directly involved in the aforementioned incident, joined in. He approached you with a kind smile and patted your shoulder, which caused you to shiver. "Have a good lunch, Y/N, guys..." he said. It was evident that Hyunjin was attempting to restrain himself from laughing in Chan's face.

"Should I inform him that he caused your panties to become wet? It would undoubtedly make the entire situation more epic”, Ryujin jested, causing you to laugh slightly less due to the presence of Chan, who was behind you and had overheard every word. This resulted in Chan giggling. You were in a difficult position, both literally and figuratively. You were forced to thank your best friend... You observed Chan direct a gaze at you that you were unable to identify, yet you were certain that he licked his lips in anticipation of capturing them between his teeth. You were compelled to concede that you were entertaining the notion of engaging in the same act. Hyunjin's interjection served to disrupt your train of thought. You were, in fact, digging your own grave, having already initiated the process by falling into it. You were now merely attempting to cover yourself with dirt.

The day passed more rapidly than you had anticipated, and you found yourself in the evening having to bid farewell to your friends, who were still laughing at you. As you were tidying your belongings, two arms wrapped around your waist, and it was evident who it was. His warm breath brushed against your skin, and you were certain you would not be able to endure much longer. The man was the end of you. He commenced to bestow wet kisses upon your neck, and without intending to and realising it, a small moan escaped you. You were now definitively ruined. He chuckled against your skin and turned you towards him, smiling. It was incredible. "So, my dear, are you prepared to return home?" he whispered. It was as if, when the office emptied, he became another person. He was inches from your lips and they were too inviting and full to remain that way. Consequently, you set aside your shyness and initiated a kiss.

The kiss was markedly different from any previously experienced. It was passionate, as if the man had not kissed a woman in years. Chan was passionate and engaging in his every move, and it was as if melting in his arms was inevitable. He was just as physically attractive as his body suggested, and he was an impressive individual. His hands tightened on your waist, massaging your hips. You could feel his thumbs enter your skin as his full lips pulled yours into a kiss that seemed to last an eternity. In your stomach, you experienced a series of unusual sensations. His tongue penetrated your mouth, and gradually, his lips began to move along your jaw, down your neck, and to your shoulder, where he focused a little more. You were certain that he was going to drive you insane very soon.

He grasped your thighs and positioned you on your desk. The mere possibility that the janitor might have entered the room at any moment and discovered you aroused you considerably. "You have no idea what I would like to do to you right now, sweetheart," he whispered into the crook of your neck as his hands went up your thighs, squeezing them. Your lips emitted a series of gasps as your hands made space for themselves in his now disordered curls. You uttered a curse. This was undoubtedly the end of you. "Why don't you do it then?" you sneered, gaining some confidence. You observed him return that grin as he took tufted hair and tied it in a vice, pulling it backwards to reveal your callus, which was far too clean for his taste. In point of fact, I did not employ the use of molt to inflict marks and bites upon him. "I would suggest that it is time to return home, or do you wish to remain in these wet panties for an extended period? It has been several hours, has it not?" he laughed, recalling your conversation with your closest companions that afternoon at luncheon.

You blushed and placed your hand on his arm, indicating that you wished to compose yourself. He took you in his arms and you observed that he was also experiencing a similar problem, as evidenced by his obvious erection. He smiled at you and, after saying goodbye to the janitor who was about to enter the office, you proceeded together to Chan's house. The car ride was an ordeal, as his hand remained on your naked thigh and squeezed it. You had by now admitted to yourself, while lying down, that the only thing you wanted was for him to insert his fingers into your panties and then into you. What was the man doing to you?

Upon your arrival, he did not allow you the opportunity to remove your jacket; instead, he took care of it himself, with great eagerness. His lips followed yours as he whisked you to the door, taking your legs and tying them around his waist. You felt his erection pushing against your clothed pussy. You longed only for him to undress you. He swiftly removed his shirt, and you were captivated by the beauty and musculature of his physique. You felt as though you were experiencing a hallucination. Was there truly such a flawless man? Not to mention the extensive tattoo that extended down his right arm. You lingered for a considerable period of time, admiring it, before running your hands down his chest and arms, caressing his warm and velvety skin. You could perceive the degree of physical conditioning he had achieved merely through touching his arms. "Do you like it, my dear?" he inquired, his voice a mere whisper in your ear. It was a rhetorical question, of course, but one that could be answered in the affirmative by anyone.

"You have no idea how much," you replied frankly before initiating another kiss. You believed you had merely provided a sort of addiction to the latter. He giggled before leading you down the hallway to the kitchen table and setting you down on it. "Good because I'm really ridiculously hungry so allow me to satiate myself," he said, his tone indicating a change in subject. From that point on, you were no longer in earnest. Passion and lust had evidently overpowered you. You observed him disappear between your thighs, spreading you wide as his nose pressed against your still-clothed but completely soaked centre. He left it a kiss and then pulled the fabric with his teeth. You were convinced that you felt them sink into the flesh of your clitoris as well. By this point, you were no longer holding back, as there was no point in doing so. You were a moaning mess.

"You smell very pleasant; I imagine your taste is similarly agreeable." This was the most dirty image you had ever seen. He removed your underwear and began licking your labia minora, which caused you to close your eyes. Your left hand descended from your hair to your shoulder, where you dug your nails into her skin, certain that you had done so.

He emitted a moan, which surprised you, given that you had always considered him to be a sweet guy. However, given his reaction, you increased your grip and scratched deeper into his now reddened skin. Meanwhile, he was working his way between your walls with his tongue, sucking on portions of your skin before penetrating you with it and fucking you with his tongue himself. This caused you to lose your breath. It was evident that the state of your body would not withstand the prolonged stimulation. Your own sensitivity was already considerable, and the fact that you had not had a relationship for a considerable period of time, coupled with Chan's unexpected skill with every touch he gave you, was driving you to the brink of insanity.

Your prediction was correct as you freed yourself in no time on his skillful tongue, which totally cleaned you up, even licking your lips. The experience was so intense that you were overwhelmed. "It was exquisite, and I may never get enough," he said as he approached you, who were now panting and short of breath. However, you noticed that his problem remained unresolved. "Take off your pants," you intimated, pulling him by the belt. He was perplexed by this turn of events and clenched his fists on your thighs. "Are you attempting to issue commands, princess?" he inquired with a hint of amusement, then proceeded to remove his belt and tie your wrists behind your back. However, he was uncertain as to the purpose of this action.

"You are not able to touch me, as I am in control of the situation. Should you wish to cum again, you will do as I say. However, I will not have sex with you at this time. I wish to cause you suffering first" he sneered. This is contrary to the image of the sweet boy that he presented. He undressed you completely, admiring your body from a distance once you had nothing to cover yourself and then disappeared to get something. He returned with a bottle of wine in his hand and a full goblet from which he was drinking. "You know I love wine. I wonder what it tastes like if I pour it on you. What do you say? Shall we try it?" He bit his lip as he moved closer to you and kissed you with the same frenzy as before. The wine tasted like red wine, the same one he had offered you nights before. What remarkable coincidence was that ever? You felt a liquid, which was not particularly cold, run through your breasts and the rest of your body. The liquid had made its way up your stomach to your thighs, and Chan was gradually descending with his lips, as if he wanted to consume you.

His lips fixed themselves first on your collarbones, which had been previously treated with a little bit of wine. He proceeded to drink the liquid and begin to leave bites and kisses on your breasts. You were certain that he was consuming you and that you would find purple marks all along the way, particularly around your nipples. With one hand, he was holding one of your breasts and massaging it, while playing with the nipple that was stuck between his index and middle fingers. His mouth was on the other breast, licking, biting and sucking the nipple. It was clear that nothing could be more pleasurable than the experience at that moment. The head was thrown back in response to the intense pleasure. "What a delight you are, princess," he said, his remaining hand clutched at her throat. All she could produce were disjointed sounds devoid of meaningful words. He proceeded to descend with his tongue, licking the wine from your stomach to your thighs. He then proceeded to bite and leave hickeys all the way to your groin.

Upon raising his face, one observed a smug expression. Saliva was observed to be dripping from the sides of the lips, and the subject was perceived as a potential meal. In contrast, Chan had never known a woman like you, and your every move drove him crazy. Your scent and beauty had been the first thing he had noticed when he first became interested in you. The sensation of your vaginal walls constricting around his tongue was a profound experience, one that sent him to a state of rapture. He contemplated the sensations he would experience when he penetrated you with his penis. You observed him grin repeatedly, and you gasped when he was completely naked in front of you. Perhaps you understood why his former girlfriend had found sexual intercourse with him to be an unbearable experience. It was a complex array of sensations. He was of considerable girth and possessed a notable degree of vascularity. You observed him for a few moments, during which time he elicited a sarcastic chuckle.

"I can see you quite like what you see, sweetheart," he laughed, only to have you spread your legs and begin rubbing his length over your thigh, grazing your clitoris with the tip. This was a spot to which, by the way, he was the subject of the torture of his thumb moving quickly over it. He was fucking you until you were dumb. And not in the literary sense, unfortunately. "Chan...please..." you implored him, this being perhaps the third or fourth occasion on which you had reached orgasm that evening, with the intervals between the events being relatively brief.

"Be patient, my dear," he whispered in your ear. The speed with which he was rubbing his penis had increased significantly, and seeing him moaning like that, with those expressions contributed greatly to accelerating your orgasm, which occurred a few minutes before the one that Chan released on your thigh. With two fingers, he took some of the semen and brought it to your lips as he squeezed your neck, indicating that you should open your mouth. He engaged in oral stimulation of your tongue until his fingers were clean, then withdrew and proceeded to clean you. He then inquired as to your preferences for dinner. He proceeded to bite his lip and extend an invitation for you to take a bath with him.

The duration of the cohabitation would be long.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

The last thing you ever imagined in your life was living under the same roof as your boss. Yet here you were, in the car with him, driving back to "your" home. It had been two weeks since you had signed that contract, Hyunjin and Ryujin were doing nothing but trying to extrapolate information and gossip to you about how Chan was fucking. But no, you didn't know either - you weren't always doing something, every day, there were days when you were really busy or days when Chan didn't go out except to go to work from his studio. But when he was in the right mood, he didn't hesitate to call you into his studio and drive you crazy with his touch. You experienced things you had never tried before, like wax play, and one night he even tied you up with a rope that was thicker than you thought. Not to mention the first time he had fucked you in the mouth. He had been so rough - not that you had minded - that you had trouble moving your jaw for the next two days. But Chan had been very kind to look after you.

Now he tightened his hand around your thigh, almost as if he were angry, and you wondered what was going on in the boy's head at that moment. When you got home, he gave you a look that you could not decipher and took you in his arms - at which you let out a cry of surprise - and took you to his room, where you had never been before.

"Get ready because you'll be up a lot tonight," he said as he tossed you into bed. From then on you understood that this was the moment after two weeks when he would not feel pity for you, and in the end you were not so sad. He laughed at the sight of your face, which was a little confused and shocked at his sudden disappearance, but you wondered why he looked so angry. "Did something happen?" you innocently asked the boy who was now towering over you. He laughed as if you had just said the funniest thing ever. "It really bothers me that the typist won't stop looking at you, trying miserably to get your attention. I have to do something to let others know you're mine," he whispered in your ear, making you shiver. You had no idea what he was talking about, but you were sure that seeing him so possessive of you had had an unexpected effect on you.

"Do it Chan," you said as you tugged at the collar of his shirt; you were going crazy for this man and seeing him like this only made you more vulnerable to his mercy.

You didn't even notice how he unzipped your clothes, how the room had suddenly become extremely hot, as if someone had lit a fire or a stove. Chan didn't need to move to show you what was hidden under his clothes, what a wonderful god he was under those now useless and discarded robes on the floor. You had seen him walk away and take something from the cupboard and were almost surprised to see handcuffs in his hands. You hated being touched when he was in charge, you had learnt many things about him in those weeks, one of which was that Chan loved to feel in charge, to be in control. And how he loved it. And you didn't mind seeing the smug look on his face when he knew he was having an effect on you. He grabbed your hands and brought them behind your back, stopping them with the metal object, his expression was something indescribable. He was so attractive, you could have come just by looking at him.

He positioned you with your head dangling from the foot of the bed and lowered himself to your level, stroking your red lips with his thumb as you gasped. All this was already having an effect. "Look how beautiful you look," he whispered as he moved his lips closer to yours, "so beneath me, at my will, ready to receive all I have to give you... you are a feast for the eyes. "If you only knew you..." she whispered through his lips, boosting his ego and pushing him even further to initiate a ravenous, almost violent kiss. He pulled his tongue out with his teeth and sucked on it. "Chan... please..." you said almost imperceptibly, which amused him greatly as he loved to see you like that.

He stood in front of you, his figure was imposing, statuesque. You could see his full length. He winked, made you open your lips with his thumb, played with your tongue. If only he had put a finger between your legs, you would have known immediately the effect he was having on you. "Be a good girl and take it all in your mouth, princess," he chuckled as he began to work his length down your entire throat, the fact that you were upside down on the bed making it even more exciting. But it wasn't like Chan to stand still while you gave him pleasure. And while he held your hair in a tight grip, he enjoyed using his other hand to caress your breast and play with your nipple. This drove you crazy as much as it drove him crazy that the moans he was making you make his cock quiver in your throat. This really drove him out of his mind.

His hand went all the way down your chest to your belly as he mercilessly fucked your throat. He squeezed your side and reached down to lick your navel with his tongue. His hand wanders to the naked centre of your intimacy: "Look how sensitive we are today. Two fingers begin to make small circles over your clitoral hood and this immediately makes you moan again along its length. He inserts one finger and then a second, fucking you with them first. You throw back your eyes as he reaches your sensitive spot and begins to curl his fingers. But he doesn't go for it, he doesn't want to come like that, he doesn't want you to come like that. "I'm going to fuck you mercilessly, princess. Don't scream too loudly, you don't want the neighbours to complain," he whispered in your ear after leaving your lips and towering over you.

He brought your knees up to his shoulders and paused to watch your hole shrink around the nothing. "It's going to be really wonderful to fuck you." And he entered you. "Ah!" you moaned, unable to stop yourself. You felt full. Good. Filled. "'Damn darling, you're so tight, even after my fingers... I'm going to start moving now, okay?" he groaned, then pulled out of you and suddenly thrust back in. You moan. "You like it, you want more baby," he chuckled then watched as you begged him pleadingly with gestures and disconnected words. And if he only knows how much you wanted it.

He begins to move without stopping, trapping you between his elbows as if to let you know that you are his alone. At first he pushes himself into you slowly, until you get used to it and start to want more, pushing your hips against his. He speeds up and you almost lose your breath, your moans now a poor diastro. You feel like you could come at any moment and he can tell by the way you tighten around him. "Come for me, Y/N," he says hoarsely into your ear, then takes you in his arms and kisses you roughly until your lips bleed. But he doesn't miss a drop and licks up to the end of your chin when, without warning, you come and he's inside you.

He slowly leans you back into the mattress and gets off on top of you. But you are not tired, you want more. "What is it, Princess?" he says, looking at you. You have noticed his gaze. "I want to do it again," you whisper breathlessly. He looks at you amused and chuckles, towering over you. "You really are insatiable," he says, turning you over and letting you rest on his lap, your hair quickly clenched in his fist and pulled towards him, making you moan immediately. "Now I'm going to fuck you from behind, baby," he whispers in your ear before he enters you. It was slow and almost excruciating but you loved the feeling of him rubbing inside you, maybe you loved the feeling of just having him inside you. "Inside you is like being in heaven," he whispers in a rough voice as he increases his thrusts, making them almost animalistic, everything moving with you, even the bed. You moan, loudly, and once again you clench around him. "Come for me, baby," and with just one word you scream his name and come on his hand, which had reached down to your clit to collect your fluids.

He makes you lie on your side and smiles, then caresses your cheek and leaves a bite on your shoulder before licking your fluids away.

"I could go on until dawn."

"Fuck me."

In the end he wasn't so sweet like you thought, not in bed.

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[luverboychris]

𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀𝑺𝑨𝑻 𝑷𝑻. 1 | 𝑪𝑯𝑹𝑰𝑺 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑶

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

IN WHICH.. the boy your older sister used to babysit for when he was a little kid is now all grown up— and you are too. never been touched before except for his own two hands until you finally show him what pleasure really feels like. but, don’t you dare think he’s not dirty minded…

sub!chris x fem reader, fluffy aw!!, losing virginity, riding

note: im such a slut for shy chris — 3.2k words

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

chris has always been the quiet kid. sitting in the back of the class, knowing the answer but too scared to raise his hand. feeling the sweat forming on his forehead ready to drip down due to worrying if the teacher is going to call on him.

he thought maybe as he got older, grew more mature, he would finally get out of it. perhaps it was a phase. but he was now twenty.. and still the same shy kid from middle school.

he just didn’t get it. he knew his thoughts had so much potential to show his true personality and colors but it was like he had a wall that stopped them from spilling out.

chris drives into the walgreens parking lot, finding the nearest open spot. he gets out of the car and walks inside. he was in desperate need of a refill of his anxiety medication and he was rushing.

but just when the pharmacy was making his prescription, he wanders through the aisles of the store and grabs a snack and of course, a pepsi. chris isn't chris without a pepsi in his hand. he shuts the fridge door and turns his head, seeing a girl.

but he thought she looked familiar, squinting his eyes a tad thinking that would zoom in his vision. she turns her head a little more and thats when he realizes he does know her.

it was his old babysitter, how could he forget? she turns her head back and starts walking out of the aisle he was in.

“w-wait!” he shouts. her hair flips back, snapping her head towards the shouting boy.

“oh my- what the?! chris?” she exclaims. she makes her way towards him as he does nothing but stand in the same spot and smile.

“you’re all grown up, i’m freaking out right now.” your sister says. she pulls him in a hug and he lets her. he appreciated your sister so much. not having a sister of his own yet he felt like she was his big sister in a way.

she always helped him. wether it was when she would pick him up from school and he was covered in bruises from getting beaten up by the kids in his class. or, always reassuring him that everything will be okay in the end. he truly admired her.

but another thing that chris absolutely loved about her, was her little sister that was in his class at the time. and that was you. you were nothing but sweet to him. you hated how people treated him in middle school.

after middle school, you guys went your separate ways since he went to a private school, and you didn’t see him since.

when he saw your big sister, he instantly had you in mind. wondering what you were doing in life, what you look like now, if you still have the same interests as you did in middle school. and the most he was thinking about.. how your love life was.

of course his was non-existent. and he was kind of okay with it, he learned to accept it. girls never looked his way, and no way in hell would he make the first move.

you obviously didn’t know of this, but chris had the utter most biggest crush on you throughout middle school. he basically thought you were an angel sent from heaven to protect him.

chris scratches the back of his neck, “so, uh hows y/n?” he asks. he was in shock he had the balls to even ask that— but he knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he walked out of the store without knowing.

your sister laughs, “she’s good! really good..” she says, “well except for the fact she just got out of a long relationship. fuck that guy, he was an asshole.” she adds. chris lets out a little laugh, your sister always overshared and he liked it.

turns out it was one of the boys that used to bully chris. fuck, did he hate that guy. and no wonder you guys didn’t end up working out, you needed a sweet boy— he thought to himself.

“she’s going to be very happy when i tell her i ran into you!” she says, “would you want her number? maybe catch up. i’m sure she would love that chris.”

his eyes widened, without making it seem like he was a nervous wreck after those words came out of your sister’s mouth. with everything in him, he wanted your number.. but he was scared. what would he say to you? would you respond? what if you block him after he presses send to the first text?

“c’mon chris.. she will love to hear from you. just say yes.” she giggles. your sister knew chris too well, always was able to read him like a book. he swore she was some type of mind reader.

“i, uh.. okay. please. yes, can i have her number?” he practically begs. she nods her head and grabs her phone, giving chris your contact. he thanks her and pulls her into a hug before saying goodbye.

but now he was home.. laying in his bed with his face up towards the ceiling. his phone right by the side of him. it was like his phone was taunting him and calling him names for being an absolute pussy. calling him out for not just turning his damn phone on and texting you already.

thoughts rolling around in his head. should he do it now? or is it too soon since he basically just got back home from catching into your sister.

should he do it later? like late at night? but no, it would look like he is hitting you up in a sexual way if its too late. he didn’t know what the fuck to do.

he lets out a big sigh. finally forcing himself to overcome his anxious thoughts and concerns as he lifts his phone up to his face. should he call you instead of text? he would be a stuttering mess if he called you— he thought to himself. but something in him did it anyway.

his hands begin to feel sweaty, the grip on his phone tightening as he presses the tip of his finger on his screen and tapping on your number.

the sound of the phone dialing, which felt like centuries for chris started to make him worry. what if you don't answer because a random fucking number is calling you? please.. please answer. —he thought to himself.

"hello..?" your voice so soft and delicate, with confusion laced in your vocals. even though chris hasn't heard your voice in years, he still instantly just felt at ease. he closes his eyes and smiles to himself.

"h-hi.." he clears his throat and tries again, "hey y/n, it's chris... sturniolo." he quitely slaps his forehead, feeling like he sounds like an absolute nerd.

"oh my go- chris? my sister was just texting me how she bumped into you at the store. damn i kind of regret not going with her now." you say. that sentence alone was enough for his cheeks to flush up in color.

he let out a nervous laugh that bounced through his speaker to your ear. "really?" he mumbles, "anyway, how are you? it's been a while, and oh.. i am sorry to hear about your breakup.." he adds.

"what the fuck? my sister told you about that? i'm going to fucking kill her i swear.. always telling people my buisness." you groan, "but, thank you chris that means a lot." he fidgets in place, knowing he shouldn't have said that to you.

"i, uh sorry.. that's my fault." he mutters.

you drag your fingers across the desk in your bedroom, holding the phone against your ear with your free hand. "hahah, no chris. i was kidding.. kind of. it's okay, that's on her not you." you catch yourself basically blabbering and you feel awkward.

"you know.. i love that you called me but i feel like we have so much to catch up on in eachother's lives." you say, "why don't you come over instead of talking back and fourth on the phone? it'd be nice to see you all grown up too." you add.

chris sits on the edge of his bed now, his hand covering his mouth to not make a single sound because fuck how much your words felt like flirting to him. even if those weren't your intentions, he loved you were at least making an effort to see him in person.

"t-that, that sounds nice yeah." he replies, "i'm free all night."

"you're in luck mr. sturniolo because i also am free all night. come to my apartment?" you ask. he takes a big gulp. he thought you would maybe ask to go to the mall, or go get ice cream. but, going over to your apartment? alone.. he was scared but no way he was letting this offer down.

"y-you sure?" he asks. he didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable, but you were far from it. you were actually excited.

"of course. why don't you come around ten-ish, huh? i'll give you my address. i'll see you then." you reply. chris gets up from his bed, looking at himself in the mirror and catches himself with the most child like grin.

he repeats your words, "see you then." and you hang up the phone. it took him a few moments until he actually removed his phone from his ear. fuck.. was he so happy. he didn't know him picking up his anxiety medication a little later than usual would end up with him being able to see you.

—that night, at your place

chris didn't feel like this was real, standing outside your door with flowers in his hand. a rush of nerves squirm throughout his body as he builds the encouragement to bring his knuckles against your apartment door.

he knocks, and he hears you rummaging on the other side of the door walking towards your entrance. you snap the door open, you look down to the floor straight up to him meeting up with his eyes.

you were not expecting him to look that cute.. yes, he was always an adorable boy in your class but now he was tall, his jawline clenched and just his whole appearance together was insanely attractive.

you lower your gaze to meet with the flowers in his hand, "flowers?" you say, "what is this? a date chris?" you laugh.

his face immediately goes red, "n-no, i, no i know this isn't a date." he replys rather quickly, "my mom just always says to bring a girl flowers.. i'm sorry."

you pull him into your apartment, "aw no chris, don't worry. i was only kidding. i love these flowers and that's very thoughtful." you almost forgot how you needed to tone it down a little with the jokes because he was a sensitive boy. "they are beautiful." you take them from his hands and walk towards your kitchen counter and gently putting them down.

you were so caught up in the flowers, while chris was doing nothing but admiring you. he always thought you were the most beautiful girl in middle school, but how did you grow up to be even more perfect in his eyes? it made him stunned.

you weren't wearing anything fancy though, just lounge wear with your hair pulled up. he stands still, staying in the exact spot you made him go in the first place. which was right by your apartment door. you turn around from the kitchen to him, "don't be shy chris. you can walk around." you say.

he snaps back, realizing he was just thinking about how good you looked without any dash of effort. he clears his throat, "right.. sorry." he says as he walks towards your couch.

"chris you know.. you don't need to apologize after everything." you mutter.

he finally gets comfortable on the couch, "you're right sorry." he says. you walk to the couch, his eyes looking up at you while you're standing right above him giving him a 'really?' look.

"i-it’s a bad habit of mine.." he whispers. your heart shattered a little when he said that, he barely said it out loud but it was enough for you to hear.

you pout at him, now sitting next to him on your couch. "you're cute, you know that?" you say. you rest your face on your hand. he tried maintaining eye contact with you but after you just threw that compliment in the air, there was no way he could.

he swallowed, "i'm cute?" he mumbles. you inch yourself just a little closer to him, now your thighs touching each other.

"oh you know you're cute." you say. he finally is brave enough to look at you now, but then looked down to your glossed lips.

"no i don't. i don't think i'm cute." he replies.

even though this was your first time seeing him in years, it already felt like you guys were back in the third period, lab partners and not paying attention to the lesson because you and chris would just talk, talk, talk.

you were always his partner in class, because no one else would. since nick and matt weren’t in the same classes.

"well you should." you snap back. you knew he needed the validation, and you didn't mind showering him with all the compliments in the world.

chris felt like he was doing a good job with keeping his composure, but he really was deteriorating on the inside. his heart rate going up through the roof and he felt a zoo of butterflies flying around in his stomach.

"i'll try my best to think that.." he mutters. you let out a giggle before unzipping your jacket completely, taking it off and letting your arms be exposed with the tank top you were wearing underneath.

"i'm sorry.. my apartment is so hot right now. i love summer but fuck am i dying of heat right now." you moan out, fanning yourself with your hand. he did everything in his power to keep his eyes focused on your face, and not let them wander to your body.

you stand up a little, your knees on the couch as you reach for the thermostat that's right next to you on the wall. you didn't even mean to, but you were completely bent over in front of chris and now he has failed. his eyes burning into your lower half. your shorts a little too short for his liking because the right amount of your ass was being revealed to him.

you were teasing the fuck out of him without even knowing it. you lower the temperature, going back to sitting right next to chris. "ahh, okay it'll get colder in here soon." you say. he just nods, trying his best not to replay the image of you bent down in front of him over and over in his head.

but his hormones didn't let him, resulting in his dick to grow underneath his boxers and shorts. fuck.. the last thing he wanted to happen was to get hard by you infront of you. he began to feel embarrased, making sure you wouldn't notice.

he looks down at his boner for a split second then back up to you, pulling his hands to cover his area in a nonchalant way. but no girl is stupid.. and they can always tell when a guy is trying to cover up a boner.

he readjusts himself on the couch as you guys are talking back and fourth about your life. you catch him fidgeting his legs, "chris.. are you okay?" you ask.

"wha-? oh, y-yeah. i'm fine." he says. here comes the stuttering.

"it doesn't look like you're fine." you reply. usually he would keep denying it, but he trusts you.

"if you want me to be honest.. and i'm sorry before i say this if it makes you uncomfortable.." he says, "i'm hard and i was trying to make sure you didn't see."

his hands part away, now letting you see his dick poking through his shorts. you feel yourself become warm, and it wasn't because your apartment was.

a brush of horniness absorbs into your skin as you keep looking down, him looking at you with innocent and guilty eyes.

"oh, uh it׳s okay.." you mumble out. he felt like you were disgusted by him, grabbing a hold on your arm.

"n-no fuck! i'm sorry, i really am. i didn't mean to make you grossed out i swear." he pleads. you look down at the grip he has on your arm and then look back at him.

"chris, seriously don't worry.. do you know how many times a girl gets wet from something and has no control over it? it's not your fault that for guys you can physically see when something riles you up." you say with all honestly. that relieved him, instantly making him feel better.

"besides, it's kind of hot." you blurt out. your words make his head snap back towards you, a wave of shock hitting him.

"wait uh, w-what?" he says. you shrug your shoulders, as you clench your thighs together.

"you got hard from thinking about me. it's hot. you have a problem with that?" you ask. he shakes his head ‘no’ so much, his head almost fell off.

"n-no. i don't have a problem with that." he says, "i just am not used to this. i haven't been alone in a room with a girl."

"chris what?! does that mean you're a virgin? wait.. have you even kissed a girl?" you ask. you know he was shy and innocent.. but not that innocent.

his face turns red, attempting to cover his face with his right hand. "yes, im a virgin. and no i haven’t kissed anyone.." he mumbles into his hand.

his pureness was honestly attractive to you.

"wow." you say, "but have you atleast touched yourself?"

the truth was, he touched himself a little too much. the amount of times he has watched porn and jerked off was an unhealthy amount. or even just using his imagination. and, there was no way he was going to admit to you that you have crossed his mind while he was stroking himself.. picturing what you looked like all grown up.

and you fit his description perfectly, as you were now sitting right next to him.

"yeah, i have.." he mumbles, "hey listen.. just because i'm a prude doesn't mean i don't have a d-dirty mind." he adds. you raise your eyebrows at him, shocked that he said that to you.

"dirty mind? i don't believe you chris." you smirk. he didn't even know he slipped that out, his breathing becoming uneven.

"yeah." he says, "i know when the time comes, i will make my girl feel really good." suddenly confidence was rushing through his veins. and it was making you bite your lip at him.

"oh yeah? you will make your girl feel good? i don't know.. i can't believe that." you reply, teasing him.

"i swear!" he softly yells out. you were trying not to get wet at the sneaky plan you were thinking in your head.

"care to prove it?" you snap back. and that's when his confidence that was building up inside him disappears. his palms are sweaty again and his cock was just growing by the second.

“mhm..” he says with a shaky tone.

go read—> press here part 2

─── aid speaks ᝰ.ᐟ ───

╰┈ ⌞₊˚ est. jan 23 2024🗒 ˎˊ˗ ⌝

okay this is lowk long and i want the smut to be in part 2 or else this will be as long as a harry potter novel ong. hope u enjoyed it i love u guys so much?! like thank you for reading my other story, i cant believe it hit 100 likes im stunned. here are tags of people who i wanna marry so badly bruh

@mattslolita @gamermattsgf @plasticferal @m4ttslvr @mattybsbitch @recklessmatt @sturniololol @angelic-sturniolos111 @mattshands @sugrhigh @imwetforyourmom @sturnspoison

[xhoneygirlxx]

Scream For Me

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: there's just something about your boyfriend in a Halloween mask.

warnings: fluff towards the end. smut. Minors DNI 18+ only!!! unprotected p in v. creampie. mask kink. talks about knife play. Eddie and Reader are both 20+. size, ethnicity, and skin color are not described. reader is described as having hair. pics are for aesthetic purposes only. grammar errors/shitty writing. not proofread! If I miss anything please let me know.

If you are an ageless/faceless blog DNI, you will be blocked.

a/n: Happy late Halloween love bugs!!!!!! it feels like forever since i've posted anything! this month has been nonstop for me as far as personal life goes so i haven't had time to really post anything. i know this isn't that long of a fic, it's more of a blurb tbh, but i really wanted to get something out for you guys. thank you all for being so patient and loving! i hope you all enjoy :)

"Fuck you're so dirty, baby." Eddie pants harshly, the words are slightly muffled underneath the mask.

He's right, you're downright filthy for getting off on him wearing the mask of a famous fictional character. It shouldn't be as arousing as it is, Ghostface leering over you, but the wetness that seeps out of you as Eddie continues to fuck you won't stop.

His thick cock continues to pound into you, hitting that spot you can never seem to reach on your own, making you moan loudly. The sound of skin slapping against each other, the squelch of your sopping heat, and the grunts of your boyfriend only turns you on further.

"Can't believe my girl gets turned on by a mask," He says breathlessly, "All those -Fuck-, all those times we watched that movie, must've been soaking every time, huh?"

You can't help but clench around him, just the idea of you secretly getting off without your boyfriend ever knowing really does something for you.

"Ah shit, you really like that? Liked imagining me fucking you just like this all those times?" Eddie grunts, snapping his hips even faster than before.

You begin to claw at his pale skin, leaving red scratches along the expanse of his back as he continues to abuse your g-spot so perfectly.

"Yes, fuck yes!" You scream as your eyes roll back in pleasure.

Eddie chuckles deeply, almost dark and twisted like he's enjoying watching you completely unravel underneath him.

"Bet you'd like it if I marked you up, yeah? Want me to carve my initials into you?" Snaking one of his hands between the two of you, he begins to draw tight circles on your abandoned clit, making your hole hole grip around him tighter.

"Please, Eds. I w-want that s'bad. Please give it to me." You're beyond babbling at this point. The line between reality and your impending orgasm are starting to blur, the thin string that holds you together ready to snap at any moment.

Going faster than before, Eddie picks up his pace not only for his sake but for yours as well. Even under the the protection of his mask you know he's going to break any moment just from the gasps and whines that falls from his mouth.

"Shit, you're so good. S'good for me, always so good f'me." It's panted in between thrusts, the slap of his balls off of your ass filling the silence between words.

"Gonna let me cum in this tight pussy, huh? Gonna -fuck- gonna let a masked killer breed this pretty cunt?"

"Please, wanna feel it drip out of me." It sounds airy and light despite the weight of your request.

It could've been the words that were spoken between the two of you, or maybe it was the visual in your minds, either way it sets the two of you off like fire works.

You release around him with a silent scream, the kind that has your head thrown back and your body arched into his chest. Eddie, on the other hand, moans loudly while tucking his masked head into the crook of your neck.

As the two of you come down from what has probably been your biggest orgasms, you relax into each other. His chest on yours, breathing slowed and synched up, and hearts banging against one another in a soothing rhythm.

Pulling away from you too quickly for your liking, Eddie pulls out of you causing you to hiss from the loss. Pulling off the mask, Eddie looks at where you were once connected, watching as his seed drips from your clenching hole.

"Fuck, that's hot." He rasps out.

You can't help but cover your face with your hands, embarrassment stinging at your cheeks at his raunchy words. Eddie seems to notice your flustered expression, a dopey smile spreading across his red and sweaty cheeks.

"Don't get all shy on me now, baby. You were just begging for this exact thing." It's teasing and playful when he says it but for some odd reason it makes your belly flip with excitement.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." You roll your eyes, even though you're no where near annoyed. "Thank you for doing this for me by the way, 'appreciate it."

The two of you stare at each other with love sick smiles for just a moment, then Eddie is quick to lean over and meet your lips with his own, something you've been wanting this whole time.

"No need to thank me, bub. You know me, willing to do anything and everything your little heart desires." Boping your nose with his ringed finger, he continues to look down at you like you've hung all the stars in the sky.

"Speaking of," He begins to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear nonchalantly, "Any other masks you're into that I should know about? Ya know like Michael Myers, Jason, I don't know the Phantom of the Opera?"

"Stooop it." You drag out, turning your face in order to hide your embarrassment.

"Okay, I quit. M'sorry." Eddie laughs, placing a loving kiss on the heated skin of your cheek.

Excepting the warm embrace, you hum into the feeling of his kiss, letting your heart light with love. The sweet moment is over way quicker than you'd like though, your boyfriend being too quick for your liking.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say it's the Myers mask."

Reaching for a pillow, you throw it right at Eddie's head with a loud thwap. The metal head falls on top of you with a muffled oof, followed by the loud boom of his laughter.

"You're not funny, Mr. Munson." You chastise him, the brown curls of his hair tickling the tip of your nose.

Lifting his face to look at you, his brown eyes are warm and sweet, and his smile is big and bright.

"Yeah? And I think you're beautiful." It's sincere falling from his pretty pink lips, sickeningly sweet. It's so sweet in fact you could get a cavity.

Wrinkling your nose, you try with all your might to stop the smile that begs to be shown. You're quick to lose the battle as your mouth curls upwards and your teeth begin to poke through, shining like the lights on a Christmas tree.

"Also, I love you." Eddie adds, the dimples on his cheeks deepening as his lips stretch more.

Again, you roll your eyes playfully before kissing the sweat soaked skin of his forehead.

"Yeah, well you stole my line, lover boy." You say with a playful kind of irritation. "I love you too."

Thank you all for reading! I'm sorry this was short and not so good. I hope you all enjoyed it. Happy Halloween <3

[bokuroar]

12:17 — few years later | 🛬❤️‍🩹🎇 iwaizumi h.

“you’ll be there, right? right? right?!”

if it’s anotamically possible to cut your ear off without passing out because of oikawa’s incessant nagging, you would’ve done it the first few seconds he begged you to accept kuroo’s reunion dinner invite before the all-star game. you were seijoh’s babysitter manager after all so, according to kuroo, it’s just right you’re there, in which you only replied with a i’ll think about it.

“haji’s gonna be there.” oikawa says in his annoying singsong voice and you swear you could hear his smirk right through your phone.

you bite your lip as if oikawa could see you blushing and smiling through the call. after years of graduating from high school, you wouldn’t have thought just hearing his name will elicit the same effect on you.

“and?” you reply nonchalantly because you would rather crawl under the earth and bury yourself alive than let oikawa confirm your cutesy, little high school crush on iwaizumi never really went away.

oikawa being your best friend saw through your reply and snorted, “pft, if i know you’ve been looking at his instagram every night before you sleep just because you’re too much of a scaredy cat to hit him up. don’t act as if you don’t zoom in on his shirtless pi—“

“oh my god, fine! i’ll go to this freaking dinner so please for the love god shut the hell up! ” you exasperatedly sigh wanting to tolerate oikawa’s teasing no longer not because it’s untrue but because you felt like you were caught committing a crime. it’s a curse and a gift you have a best friend that knows everything about you.

you hear oikawa shriek through your phone in celebration and about being there at 6, so you mutter a good bye before he lays out a plan that involves dragging you wherever into the night.

as if on cue, your phone lights up with a notification from your old group chat when the call ended,

✉️ t. oikawa: see you all on saturday!!!! no backsies!!!!!! :p

you roll your eyes knowing he’s talking about you. you were about to hit send on a message something about being him still being an annoying ass when another bubble popped in your screen that made you rewrite everything you were about to say.

✉️ h. iwaizumi: im back too 🇯🇵 see you guys :)

✉️ you: i’ll be there ☺️

come saturday, you’re standing in front of the restaurant which every nook and cranny you’re familiar with as this was a popular go-to after-school-dinner-place during your younger years with the team. you try your best not to look frantic while you check your phone at least every 10 seconds to tell oikawa “wru >:(”

you were about to hit the call button when you hear somebody clear their throat. as a reaction, you step away from where you were standing thinking you were probably blocking the entryway.

“sorry i was just w— oh. haji?” you take these few seconds to take him in—the way his shirt hugged his biceps, the watch that also somehow added to his attractiveness, his skin that’s more tanned, his freshly cut hair, and his smile. god, that smile. so many things have changed about him since he last visited home but his kind, subtly giddy smile still reached his eyes.

“been awhile, hasn’t it?” iwaizumi sheepishly say and you hold back a gasp when he scratches the back of his head that flexed his arm.

“it’s been.. yeah? yeah, it has. i mean. yes..” you nervously laugh, mentally kicking yourself for tripping over your words.

you feel your cheeks redden, not from the cold air of the darkening day but because of the manly, handsome laugh that bubbles from iwa’s chest. “watcha doin’ out here, though? waiting for a someone or..” he drags his sentence hoping you don’t hear his silent prayer that you are romantically available.

you snort before you could even think about it, “no, c’mon it’s not like that.” you laugh and went on to tell the tale of oikawa begging you to come, “i’m waiting for that idiot tooru who went several measures to make sure i’m here.”

“you two were thick as thieves, weren’t ya? i’m glad you stayed in touch even if that shithead went abroad.” iwaizumi smiles and you can’t resist staring at how he threw his head back when he laughed at oikawa’s typical antics.

“wish we did too, y’know. i missed ya.” iwaizumi suddenly confesses, “i just found myself wanting to talk to you when i was out there.”

to say your heart felt like it dropped on your feet was an understatement. it’s like everything froze—the leaves halted midair, the world went silent and the only sound you could hear was the loud thump of your heart. all what you manage to let out is, “o-oh? you did? really?”

iwaizumi looks at you like you just asked the most ridiculous question, “‘course i did. we talked every day then! remember how i used to walk you home after our trainings then stop by that dang old ramen place that was there since forever? missed hanging ‘round with you and the team ‘tis all.”

you smile as you look at the ground, shyly but fondly recollecting all the simple but sweetest moments with iwaizumi you cherish so much. with his sudden reminiscing, you recall the sort-of debate you had with him because he kept on insisting he should always walk you home.

“r-right. the team. yeah, i missed them too.” you say as you shake your head along with the thought of having a chance of romance with your longtime friend.

“we should go inside. fuck that tardy tooru i think a lot’s of them here.” you casually laugh and walk towards the door until you felt a hand on your wrist.

iwaizumi shoots you a grin, “what do you say the two of us go grab that ramen? for old time’s sake?”

a/n: so .. uh … im back ! hope everyone’s still here 😅🫣 anw this was supposed to be just a drabble but i got a lil carried away & im alr thinking of writing a pt 2 .. wdyt hehe

[miraclewoozi]

DRIVE. - l.c

DRIVE -- or, the night you realise it's actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place.

pairing : chan x fem reader. content : fwb > lovers. angst, smut (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT), fluff. more or less in that order. they’re both dumb as hell. not explicitly put in any detail but this was written with a more 70s vibe in mind so feel free to bear that in mind when thinking of the car/tech/styles etc if u like. w/c : 7.8k warnings : lots of swearing. it’s all a big fuckin misunderstanding because i am a whore for that. weed & alcohol mentioned (neither party is drunk or high at the time of this taking place). mentions of past cheating (neither mc or chan are the cheater). some pov switching because i said so. let me know if i've forgotten anything. proofread exactly once so if there's a typo, no there isn't. SMUT TAGS UTC.  notes : dino. get the fuck off my ass. i’m so serious i am not strong enough to handle the very real feelings i have for you. go away.  notes 2.0 : i listened to halsey’s drive for some inspo for this & took that as the title, so feel free to give it a listen if you want!

SMUT TAGS : dom!chan. car fuckin', making out, hair pulling, grinding/dry humping, fingering, finger sucking, dick riding, marking/scratching, unprotected sex (make good choices), overstimulation, multiple orgasms. praise. chan calls reader ‘baby’ & ‘sweetheart’. he’s a BIG talker during sex (sorry).

You’re not stupid. You heard his car pull up outside your house almost an hour ago. 

Since then, at random intervals ranging anywhere between thirty seconds and five minutes, there have been clinks of a thrown stone at your bedroom window, a piece of the gravel that lines your driveway. Each time, it makes your jaw tense, makes your fingers tighten in the bedsheets you pulled all the way up to your chin in a foul mood at 8pm. It’s been the same now for almost two weeks — you’ve been getting home from work, showering the day away, eating your dinner and retiring to your room as early as you possibly can. Your roommate tried to find out what was wrong around day three but you very promptly shut her down — she’s since learned that the best she’s getting out of you currently is a dismissive wave of your hand or some kind of a grunt. She joked one evening that it was like she’d adopted a teenager; you scowled so violently that she went to her room. 

Hardly any of your other friends have seen anything of you, either, despite the fact that several have come knocking to check if you’re all right. 

You’re very much not all right, as it happens. This is perhaps the most upset you’ve ever felt, and that’s going quite some way. The angriest, too. It’s worse than when that middle aged woman threw her entire bucket of popcorn at your head when you gave her salty instead of sweet, and you were picking kernels out of your hair for the rest of your six hour shift. It’s worse than when your nasty supervisor ‘forgot’ you were in the bathroom and ended up locking you inside the cinema overnight, because you didn’t have your own set of keys to get out and the people whose numbers you remembered weren’t answering their phones. 

It’s somehow even worse than when a summer crush from a few years ago broke things off by telling you that he already had a girlfriend back home and that you were basically just a means to pass the time and get his dick wet. God, and you thought that was the lowest you could possibly be.

Here you are, though, so far beyond all those things it would be comical, if it didn’t hurt. Chan has really done a number on you, and you’re not sure how you ended up getting so emotionally involved in your situationship with him that this is what you’ve been reduced to. For days now, you’ve been swallowing back tears of frustration (both with yourself and with Chan), rolling around in your bed night on night, unable to get to sleep because all you can think about is him.

Him, and the way he sounded genuinely horrified when his friends asked about the ‘movie girl’, and he laughed, ‘God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen’. It was impressive, how quickly your face fell, in no way aided by the squealing giggles that rang through the house as a very, very drunk girl came running out of the living room and shut herself in the toilet, drowning out a chunk of the conversation you were listening in on. Somehow, it hurt even more when he went on to say ‘besides, there’s… someone else’. 

And when you have managed to drift off after hours of staring at the walls and the ceiling, hearing those words on a loop on your fed up brain? Of course he’s been in your fucking dreams, too.

In your defence, all you were trying to do was use the mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen he and his friends were standing in, readjusting your top to cover the hickey that he had so kindly left on your collarbone just the night before. It wasn’t as though you sought him out to listen in; it was a coincidence. And okay, fine, maybe you should have walked away when the conversation turned to the topic of Chan’s love life. Maybe you should have not crept closer and held your breath to be able to hear them all better. Maybe, even, you should have stayed around long enough to ask what he meant by it then and there instead of hopping in a taxi and going home without saying goodbye to anyone. 

Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.

Never gonna happen. Well, Chan seemed quite happy to ignore the fact that it already had happened. Several times. At least four of those being in the very car currently on the street outside your home. The car he’s used on countless occasions to drive you up to lovers’ lookouts in the dead of night, letting one of his many mixtapes play through the tinny speakers, where he’d kiss you breathless and cradle your face between his palms, as his fingers would delicately explore beneath your clothes, as his broad shoulders would slot between your thighs, as his hips rol–

And maybe you aren’t stupid, but Chan seems determined to prove that he sure as hell is. He came to pick you up from work the day after the party like nothing had happened, and couldn’t figure out why you said you would rather walk home in the rain than get in with him and stormed away without any further explanation. Then, he showed up on your doorstep on the morning of your day off with your favourite coffee and a breakfast bagel, asking if you could talk. He still didn’t realise what he’d done to upset you, so you slammed the door in his face. Finally, just earlier today, he ran after you in the mall, persistent as you’ve ever known him to be, and laid a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t turn around to just the sound of his voice calling your name. 

You pushed him off so hard he almost fell over. 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” You had barked, shrugging your shoulders to try and realign your jacket. “I don’t want to talk to you. What’s not clicking?”

His face resembled that of a scolded pet when he took a step back and frowned at you. “I just wanted to–”

“I don’t care what you want, Chan,” you spat. “Give it up. I’m done.”

You could see the desperation swimming in his eyes as he scrambled for what to say and your heart felt like it was being weighed down all the way into your stomach. You supposed that was the part of you that was causing all this ache in the first place, and further that it was to blame for your current state of misery. But you steeled yourself and stood your ground nonetheless. He wasn’t going to win you over with puppy eyes and a pout. Not this time.

In his silence, you only then noticed how hard your breaths were coming, each slow and long but still dangerously unsteady. You lowered your voice, top lip curling at him as you muttered, “You’re embarrassed of me enough to lie to your friends? Fine. I don’t give a–… but shit, next time, tell a girl that to her face instead of behind her fucking back.”

It’s been seven hours, and you keep replaying the last thing he said to you as you stormed away (how his voice got quieter when he realised you weren’t turning back; how he sounded so hoarse, so sorry). 

‘I’m sorry if I hurt you - I— I never meant to.’

If. If. If. Were you not making it completely fucking obvious that he had, most definitely, hurt you? Part of your brain is even now starting to go down the route that he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s some twisted sort of damage control, that he hopes maybe if he plays dumb for long enough, you’ll forget what you were mad about or maybe start to second guess what you heard. But if that’s what he thinks, he obviously doesn’t know you very well at all. That’s never going to happen. 

Hell, for someone you were being so careful to keep in the appropriate lane in your head, Chan really has you thinking yourself in circles. You’re sick to your back teeth of him, and his stupid voice and his stupid smile and his stupid –

Clink.

Stupid. Fucking. Stones.

A groan loud enough to definitely catch the attention of your roommate sounds from deep within your chest at this interruption to your spiral and you finally, finally concede. Whatever argument he’s so clearly longing to have at 11 o’clock on a Thursday night? Fine. He can have it. If it means he backs off for good, you’ll give him his one last ruck.

You pull the window open none too gently and lean enough through it that Chan comes into view. He isn’t even looking up, you realise, too busy sifting through the driveway trying to find his next little projectile, and you hiss his name to get his attention. It startles him so much that he drops the indiscernible bundle in his right hand. He blindly scrambles to pick it up, those big, earnest eyes gazing at you as if you’re floating in midair before him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask him, trying not to raise your voice too loud but at the same time, needing to generate enough volume for him to hear. He holds the bundle in both hands, now, and they catch the light of the lamp by your front door. Flowers, you register, squinting to try and make them out, your brows furrowing so much that your forehead hurts. 

Black dahlias.

You choke back a laugh. Ah, the joys of fooling around with the son of a florist. Are they all so damn dramatic? (Or does he just know that they’re your favourites?)

Whichever it is, you tell yourself that’s not going to work. You won’t let it. Through gritted teeth, you say, “go away. I’m serious. I’ll call the cops on you.”

He shakes his head, begging as he steps just a little closer so his face is more visible in the amber light too. “Please–” he hurries, biting his bottom lip. “Please, don’t– just… tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Please.”

He never begs like this. In all the time you’ve known him, you swear Chan has said ‘please’ to you fewer times than you could count on your fingers. Which is by no means a bad thing — that’s just always been the very comfortable nature of your friendship, and later, the -with-benefits tag that you ended up sticking on the end. 

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and fighting not to shiver in the cold nighttime air. Note to self: don’t do a Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the fucking winter without layering up, first. “What does it even matter?”

“What do you mean, what does it matter?” He asks, looking down at the bunch of flowers in his hands, then back at you. “I-... you know I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. Please, just… if I did something–”

“There’s someone else,” you echo, fed up with his pretending. He’s a fair actor, you’ll give him that – he might even have been able to convince you, if you hadn’t already heard the other half of this tale he’s doing his best to spin in his favour. 

His face screws up, thinking he’s misheard. It’s his turn not to understand now. If you’re telling him you’ve met someone else, he’s got questions, because you’d promised to be open and honest with each other if that ever happened, so that you could call things off and go back to being just friends without it becoming a big deal. That was always supposed to be a calm conversation, not… whatever this is. You talked about it, right at the start. But… those are the words you’re saying, aren’t they? And why would you be mad at him if you were the one whose circumstances had changed? 

“What?” he asks, finally. “What do you mean?”

“God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen. Besides, there’s… someone else!” You raise your voice without really meaning to, before swallowing hard and glancing back inside your room. “You said that, Chan. Don’t piss me off by coming here and pretending like you didn’t.”

Chan starts to look like he’s trying to figure out an algebraic equation in his head while only having half the required information; his eyes fall down to the gravel, his lips move without any sound coming out of them, his features tighten until there are definite lines between his eyebrows. Then, it clicks. The lightbulb moment. He slaps one hand to his face and shakes his head furiously, and you just know he’s going to wake up with an ache in his neck tomorrow because of it.

“Oh fuck,” he curses. “No, no, no, no, no – that’s not–”

“What did I just say?” You spit down at him. “Don’t piss me off–”

“Listen!” He shouts, and you gesture with your hand for him to lower his voice, interrupting his flow of thought and rendering him silent for a moment. “Fuck, please. Come down here and talk to me. That’s not what you think it is.”

You’re in every mind to slam your window shut and leave him out there in the cold. It would work if you got out your headphones to drown out the sounds of him trying to get your attention, which you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he would do. And maybe then he’d get the hint; maybe then he would understand that you’re not just some pushover who he can just pick up and play with when it suits him. 

But he’s still holding those fucking flowers like they’re a lifeline, still looking up at you without a single lick of anger on his face. Not stress at having been discovered, which you would have expected him to be swimming in right about now. He looks… kind of beside himself, as if nothing could possibly be worse than what you’re threatening to do.

All this, for you? It just doesn’t make sense. 

“Please,” he says again, quieter, weaker. For the first time, you pick up on the hint of a shiver in his voice, and you swallow. Whether you’re gulping back your pride, or your resolve, or the last remnants of your sensibility, you don’t know. 

Does he deserve for you to hear him out? You’re not sure.

But does he deserve to be stuck out in the cold in just his stupid leather jacket and a pair of jeans? 

With regret, you think, no. He doesn’t.

All you give him is a scowl before you disappear from view entirely, pulling the window closed and drawing your curtains again. Faster than you think you ever have before, you throw on a sweatshirt over your pyjamas, grab your keys, and hurry down the stairs as silently as you possibly can. 

He’s stood in exactly the same place when you edge outside and pull the door closed behind you. Up-close, you can see the tiredness on his face: this is a man who has exhausted himself in worry, you think, and yet he still smiles a little when he sees you in full. He still holds the flowers out for you to take. He still purses his lips and blows out a stuttered cloud of air. Nervous, and not in the way you think he ought to be. So when you walk straight past him and don’t take the dahlias out of his hands, instead standing by his car and waiting for him to unlock it for you, you start to feel overwhelmingly guilty. 

Chan is many, many… many things. But he really isn’t this good of a performer, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself all week. For God’s sake, why is it so much easier to be angry at him when he’s not standing right in front you?

You slip into his passenger side as he fumbles to set the flowers down on his backseat again, and he joins you up front just a few moments later. His hands are shaking when he sets the keys into the ignition. His whole body is. When you cast a real look over at him, the tips of his fingers are pale and his lips are lacking their usual rosy, pink hue. Your own teeth are chattering despite only having been truly exposed to the cold air for a matter of seconds; you dread to think how frozen he must be.

“Are we driving?” You ask to break the silence. Since he got into the car and fiddled with the heating settings to try and warm things up a little, he hasn’t said a word. It’s awkward. It’s horrible. You already miss the comfortable way you’ve been able to sit for hours together, barely talking, just watching the lights of the city and the cars travelling through it. 

You already miss him. Which is a strange thought, seeing as he’s only about ten inches away. 

“If– if you want,” he says, stuttering through the frost in his lungs. “We can go—...”

“Drive, Chan,” you say. It’s not just because you want him to stop falling over his words – which, to be fair, you do. Chan has always been very confident, carrying himself with the air of someone who knows exactly their worth. It’s one of the things you treasure about him. So this? Is fucking weird. But a big part of it is that you know his car will heat up faster if it’s in motion, and right now, you think maybe he’s at risk of losing a finger or two if he doesn’t get some circulation back.

He steps on the gas and the car pulls away from your home. It’s the first time you’ve ever been in his car without there being some sort of music playing, whether that’s historically just been the radio or a tape he put together with the help of one of his older friends. (The tapes that always had your first initial on them. The tapes that he never failed to ask your opinions on when he dropped you home – as if he’d compiled them with only you in mind.) The silence feels jarring and you can hear every rumble of the engine, every squeal of the brakes he definitely needs to get serviced. 

But the car does warm through, and you sigh out relief as the bones in your hands move a little easier, as your fingers curl and uncurl to less resistance from your taut muscles. Chan feels it, too; his body relaxes, his breaths stop coming out in fractions, his face gets some colour back. The timing feels a little less awful when you finally say, “go on, then.”

Chan glances over at you as he drives down an unlit street. Only for a second, like he’s checking you’re still there, before his eyes train back on the road. He’s going to one of your favourite spots. It isn’t a lookout – it’s somewhere completely shut off from the rest of town, hidden by the trees near the railway tracks, somewhere you’ve never had to worry about being seen or heard. Maybe he’s anticipating a screaming match. Maybe he’s expecting something else. Maybe, even, he just cares about how much you love it there. 

“I didn’t know you heard that conversation,” he starts, sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, reach over and thump him, ask if that makes what he said okay, but you don’t. You stay looking out the front windscreen too. Waiting. “I… all right. I was out of my ass drunk.”

You click your tongue, pressing it afterwards against the inside of your cheek, but again, you stay quiet.

“I don’t think you heard what you thought you heard, though,” he goes on to say. “‘Cause– ‘cause it wasn’t…”

But you can only be quiet for so long in the face of this mess. Especially when he’s apparently working towards a doctorate in beating around the fucking bush. “I heard you tell your friends that it was never gonna happen with ‘movie girl’.”

Chan’s face brightens, and you can’t help but wonder what on Earth is wrong with this man. Why does he find that funny? Why is his chest moving like he’s trying not to laugh?

“And you… thought you were movie girl,” he says, nodding. “Okay. Okay – shit. I’m sorry.”

You look at him properly, now, as he indicates to the right and takes the turn that leads him down the lane to your spot. “What are you talking about?”

“I get it,” he says. “You work at the–... but you’re not movie girl. Not that movie girl.”

“Stop talking in riddles before I get out of this car, Chan. It’s too late for this shit.”

He holds a hand up as if to apologise and settles back against the head cushion, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he did thirty seconds ago. He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lips, before sucking in a breath and letting himself go on.

“You’re not movie girl,” he says again, successfully clarifying nothing. “There’s this chick I used to dance with — years back, before… God, when we were in school, like, forever ago. She moved away when we were sixteen.” As he talks, he reaches your destination and sets the car into park, before he unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face you. You do the same, shifting your weight to tuck one leg up beneath you, and with your undivided attention, he goes on. “I ran into her recently. She’s back in town now, I guess. It was like, two weeks—?”

“I’m gonna be all-over grey by the time you finish telling this story,” you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Can you please give me the short version?”

“Not if you want it to make sense,” Chan shrugs. Begrudgingly, you let him keep talking. “She said it would be cool to hang out, maybe catch a movie or do lunch or something — and look, I didn’t know she was asking me on a date, I thought she was just being nice, y’know? Trying to be friends, but… you weren’t working that day, it was when you had that… that stomach thing going on? And I brought you the soup my mom made, remember?”

You nod; of course you remember. At the time, you wondered why on Earth this grown man’s mother was making you food — you asked yourself whether he’d told her about you, or if she thought it was for someone else. In the end you decided he must have just been bringing you leftovers. But you’d been too worn out to start asking questions; instead, after you’d eaten, you let yourself fall asleep with your head in his lap as he patted your hair and hummed his favourite songs. You hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it since. 

“Anyway. We were sat watching the movie and she, uh,” he glances down at his lap, tips of his ears burning pink. “She put her hand, sorta, on my thigh? And then I was like, shit, I didn’t read this right, like… at all. So I moved it off and she took the hint — and after it ended I said to her, you know, I was flattered, right? But I wasn’t interested. And then I went home and got that soup and—… yeah.”

He came straight to see you. To look after you. Hell, you didn’t even fool around that night; in retrospect, it was all uncharacteristically domestic. And slowly, the pieces you’ve spent days struggling to fit together start to fall into place. It makes sense. The only question that remains is do you believe him?

Well, tell a lie. 

There is one more. 

“You said there was someone else,” you add quietly. 

You’ll die before you admit it, but this is secretly the part that was hurting you the most. 

You can’t even look him in the eye, right now; your cheeks are burning with the embarrassment of even caring. As much as you want to tell yourself that the only reason you’re pissed is just because of the dishonesty, you can only stare at yourself in the mirror and point-blank lie so many times. Someone else. You hate it. 

Just the thought of him seeing somebody else, taking them out on dates, smiling at them, laughing with them, kissing them the way he kisses you, touching —

A shiver runs the length of you and you cross your arms, thrusting your sleeve-covered hands under your armpits. 

Chan takes a deep breath in and exhales it slowly, like he’s blowing smoke out of his lungs. “There is,” he admits, nodding slowly, avoiding your eyes, too. “There is someone else.”

“When were you going to tell me?” You ask. 

Chan doesn’t respond straight away. You don’t notice, but eventually his eyes do land back at you; it’s only when he clears his throat to get your attention that you look at him long enough to realise he’s quite deliberately staring. His lips are lifted on the right in a lopsided smile, his eyes soft as he reaches across the seats towards you. You stare blankly down at his hand until he wiggles his fingers, and you think briefly that this is the most fucked up ending to a situationship you’ve ever been through. 

You drop one of your hands down and let him hold it, though, staring at his face as his thumb brushes over your knuckles and you wait for him to finally say it out loud. For him to announce that he’s fallen for somebody and that he can’t see you anymore. To put the nail in the coffin. Don’t tell me their name, you think. I don’t want to know anything about them. Please, just don’t.

“For someone so frustratingly smart, you’re really fucking dumb,” Chan says, finally, swallowing around his words and squeezing your fingers. Whatever stoic expression you had forced onto your face at the start of this conversation dissolves into irritation and you snatch your hand away from him again, letting his own fall and collide with a thunk against the handbrake. 

“Oh, sorry that I didn’t realise you were sneaking around behind my back when that’s the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do,” you snap. “God. The only stupid thing I’ve done here is get involved with you in the f—”

“You’re the someone else.”

Oh. 

Oh.

“I’m—?”

“You.”

The admission hangs heavily between you, as does your nonsense, unfinished insult. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves except sit perfectly still and try to somehow deal with your increasingly dry throats. When Chan moves, it’s only to turn down the heating dial when his cheeks burn a bit too hot; you appreciate it, in part due to the bead of sweat currently running down your back, but you don’t say so. 

“You could have started with that,” you say weakly, wrestling with all your strength to keep even some of your cards close to your chest. It’s not working though. Your attempt to conceal your elation is a bit like throwing a single leaf on top of a bison and calling it camouflage. 

Chan commits to laughing, finally, your sentiment breaking him too. Now, you do crack that smile, albeit mostly just at the sound that comes from him. It’s bright and airy, lighting his whole face up as he drops all the way back and leans against his car door, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I was trying to build to a moment! It’s not my fault you hit every branch of the anti-romantic tree on your way down.”

“I am not anti-romantic,” you scoff in protest. 

“Yes — you are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“No, you’re just an idiot.”

“Says she who didn’t realise her fuck-buddy had feelings for about six months, Jesus.”

“Chan—” You start, your voice laced with a playful warning. 

“Here I was thinking I was making it completely obvious,” he rambles on. 

“— oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Dropping hints left and r—” … “Huh?”

He stops short a fraction of a second after you finish, stumped and silent, frozen with everything but a little buffering symbol above his forehead. Kiss me, you said. Chan, […] just shut up and kiss me. All right, you’ve asked him to do that before, but not like this. Not as if you’ll wither away should you not get a taste of his lips this instant. It takes him some time to process it, but he does move in first, eventually. The way he always does, closing the distance between you like he’s been shot out of a cannon, one hand either side of your face, crashing feverishly against your mouth. 

Every now and again, he’ll be happy to let you take charge and set the pace: mostly just if he’s feeling lazy or especially generous. Tonight isn’t one of those times, however. He holds you and kisses you possessively, like you’re his, like this is how he finally gets to lay claim on you, licking between your gasp-parted lips after he moans straight into your mouth. He’s spearmint sweet, edged with that one cherry flavoured chapstick he stockpiles as he grins up against you, rolling his body fluidly with every separation for air, every changing angle. 

He pulls your sweatshirt up over your head and throws it down into the footwell on the passenger side, straight away hurrying to kiss you hungrily again, hands cupping your neck. His tongue is in your mouth once more, there’s no way you could possibly differentiate your breaths from his: you’re one, in every way you can be with your clothes still on, but it’s not enough. 

“Want you,” you whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pleasure rushes through you from head to toe. 

“You’ve got me,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “I’m all yours.” 

“No,” you insist, whimpering when his cute little nose drags across your cheek until he’s pressing hot kisses to your jawline. “I— fuck—”  He suckles on the sweet spot below your ear and your spine tingles, head tilting to give him better access. “Chan, I want you.”

Chan settles back from you, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now darkened with desire. All he gives you is a singular glance sideways, but you know exactly what he’s suggesting. You nod, breathing deep, biting the inside of your cheek; he turns off the headlights and it’s all systems go. 

There’s a rush to scramble into the back of the car. Chan takes the keys out the ignition and climbs through the gap in the seats; you opt for the less hazardous approach of getting out of the vehicle entirely and re-entering it instead. Not that it bothers him — no sooner is the door closed behind you, Chan’s hands are on your hips and he pulls you on top of him, your leg knocking the dahlias off the leather and onto the floor in the process. You gasp and glance down but he averts your attention with two fingers under your chin, guiding you to look back at him. 

“What? You think this is the last time I’ll bring you flowers?” He asks, capturing your lips as he leans up to you; at the same time, his hands drop low and he starts to slide open the buttons down the front of your pyjama shirt. “Baby, m’gonna get you so many more.” 

You sigh at the affectionate name, at the change in its use; until now, Chan has only called you baby while he’s buried inside you, bruising you inside and out with sharp thrusts and rough-gripping fingers. But as much as you can feel him growing hard against the inside of your thigh while you try to get comfortable, one knee planted either side of his hips, you can’t help but feel as if this time, it means something different. 

(He’s had feelings for six months: it always meant what it does, now. You know that, deep down.)

Somewhere in amongst the never-ending sloppy kisses and constantly travelling hands, you manage to strip both his jacket and T-shirt off him and you’re pressed bare-chest-to-bare-chest with Chan, feeling every little hitch of his breath in his lungs, every thump of his heartbeat, every tiny increase in the temperature of his skin. Your desperate search for friction between your legs has you rolling your hips down against his hard-on, drawing grunts and making him squeeze at your tits when you rock against him the right way. His head eventually drops to your chest and he replaces one hand with his mouth, freeing his fingers to slide down the front of your pyjama bottoms. 

It’s honestly rarer for Chan to get straight to the point than it is for him to tease you a little first, so when he flattens his palm against you and brushes his fingertips over your already aching clit, you let out a squeak of surprise. He shivers, releasing your nipple from between his teeth for a moment; once he’s collected a little more arousal to ease the friction, he continues to rub at the bud, slowly building the pressure inside you.

“No panties?” He asks, struggle clear in the roughness of his voice. 

“I was in bed,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. It’s for the best that it happens out of pleasure, really, because you’re not sure you’d be able to stop yourself rolling them in exasperation at his remark otherwise. You shuffle a little, lifting yourself up on your knees more, breath hitching when he uses the newly granted space to dip his hand lower and press a finger against your hole. “Please, Chan — this can’t be comfy— just…”

“S’fine” he argues, shaking his head, despite the fact that the angle of his wrist is actually kind of painful, right now. The truth is that he can’t bring himself to care: not when he can smell your fabric softener on the shirt still hanging off your shoulders, the shampoo in your freshly washed hair, all so pretty mixed with the damp scent of your desire. Not when you clench around him as he slides his finger in and out of your cunt. Not when he could get you to soak all the way through these pretty satin pants. 

Your arms snake around his neck as he dips a second finger inside you to join the first. The way your thighs tighten around his hips could — should — be embarrassing, the fact his sturdy lap holds you open enough for your pussy to be toyed with even more so. You almost always do this too music, too — for what might be the first time ever, you can hear every single wet sound your body makes, every hitch of your own breath, every grunt he gives even though he’s not the one being pleasured. 

You don’t even realise how you’re rocking up and down against his hand until Chan licks from the base of your neck to your jaw, smirking over your pulse point and says, “gonna ride my cock this good too, baby?”

And if it was anyone else talking to you like this, you would be embarrassed. Mortified, at being so needy you’re here doing all the work for him. At the cry you give as he splits and scissors his fingers to stretch you out. But instead? You feel another rush of arousal drool out of you as you press your nails into his shoulders and nod, bouncing harder and watching how his bicep tenses up solid with the effort of keeping his arm steady for you to use. 

“Wanna,” you gasp. “Want it so bad, Chan—”

Despite your pleas for this to move further, when his hand pulls back out of the elastic of your waistband, you feel like you could throttle him. The urge ebbs away when his soaked fingers press to your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you, though — you end up suckling them clean, licking up every trace of your own slick. You lock eyes with him as you do, slumping on your thighs so your drenched core sits right over his tweaking length, the seam of your pants giving just enough friction to your clit for it to feel good as you grind down on him again. 

“Get those off,” he instructs, trying to sound hard and dominant. Which would work, perhaps, if his voice didn’t crack in the middle of the sentence. “Now.”

Even though you’re overcome with a need to tease him, the desire you have to be split open on his length outweighs it, so you do as you’re told and hold it in for later. It’s not easy, but you manage to manipulate yourself in his lap to work the satin down your thighs and past your knees. He helps you tug them the rest of the way past your ankles and feet, shoves them onto the floor — Chan’s hands settle back on your hips and yours skim down his stomach at the same time, fingers grazing over the little hairs that trail from his bellybutton down into his jeans. 

“Can I?” You ask, playing already with his belt buckle. 

He hums assent and you slip it all the way open, tugging as he moves his hips underneath you so you can pull it free from the loops. Between you, you manage to get his jeans unfastened, to pull both them and his boxer shorts down over his ass and to his knees; finally, fucking finally, his cock sits pretty and leaking and free between your stomach and his. It’s getting cold in the car now the heating isn’t on, but you’re already burning up in anticipation for him to ruin you; the way his abs ripple as he takes his shaft into his hand and strokes himself a couple of times to prepare tells you he’s in the same boat. 

It’s like clockwork, from here. You shift into position as easily as you settle into bed after a long day. Chan rubs his tip through your folds, feels the warmth of you and hisses through his teeth with fluttering eyes. Just like always. This never changes. He can’t ever get enough of that first feeling of his cock against your pussy: it’s like the first hit of a blunt, like the first sip of a cold beer, the first full-body stretch early in the morning. He’s sure it’s what arriving at the gates of heaven must feel like. 

You sink down onto him slowly, fluttering around his tip and stilling to give you both a moment to get used to the feeling. He’s thick inside you. Thicker than his pretty, dainty fingers have ever been able to stretch you enough for. Even as wet as you are, you still need to suck a deep breath into your lungs before you can relax your hips further and let your heat swallow him all the way to his base. 

Chan’s head is tipped back in pleasure, he’s biting his lip at the sting of your nails pressing hard into the back of his neck. He loves it, though — loves how the pain shoots in waves down his spine, how it tingles in his brain, how he knows you need to anchor yourself this way or you’ll lose control. He kneads at your ass as you sit against his thighs, listening to you whimpering at how deep he is inside you.

“So fucking tight around me still,” Chan groans, focusing all his willpower into keeping his hips down on the leather beneath him. “Shit, baby — you feel so good…” His neck softens and his head drops forward again as you start to move, rising and falling over and over. He kisses your throat and down to your collarbones while you work up to a rhythm, sliding his palms up your back, hugging you close to him. 

He isn’t even the one putting in the hard work, but within minutes of this, his soft, fluffy hair clings to his forehead. A light sheen of sweat makes him radiant under the moonlight breaking through the trees. He’s breathing heavily, the top of his toned chest painted a soft pink — you don’t think he could possibly look prettier. Not until he cups your jaw with his hands and you look upwards: you land on his smiling face, those plush, swollen lips, his devilish but sweetly glittering eyes. The sight of him, looking at you like you’re some kind of Goddess, makes your pussy tighten and your tiring hips stutter. You slip your pyjama top all the way off your arms and curl your fingers into his hair, meeting him in an open-mouthed kiss, through which you’re both just beaming. 

You’ve never kissed him this much. When it all started out, you sort of had a rule against it, but now? Neither of you can stop. As he starts to fuck up into you, taking the reins and letting your burning thighs rest, he keeps your face steady with his hands and freely allows his lips to slide against yours. It’s not refined. It can’t be. Not with how hard and fast his movements quickly become, not with the onslaught of curses and moans and babbled praise coming from the both of you. One particularly sharp thrust makes you yelp out a squeak of his name and he just swallows it down, making a point to keep aiming for— and hitting— that same spot inside you. You’re a mess. 

He could do this all night. When your orgasm bubbles inside you and he starts pinching at one of your nipples, sending you over the edge, he’s nowhere near finished. Even though your cunt massages at his length, throbbing and pulsing through your climax; even though your voice is so high by now that only dogs can hear you; even though you nearly collapse on top of him with almost all your weight in his lap, and he has to work twice as hard to keep this going, he barely slows. He definitely doesn’t stop. 

“You can gimme one more, right sweetheart?” He asks, grunting into your neck. “Always feels so fucking good when you come.” You choke up an ‘mhm’, to which he responds by slipping a hand between your bodies and down to where you’re connected. His thumb presses against your clit again — not moving, just applying enough pressure to make you stutter when you say his name. 

Your thighs are still twitching when you try to lift yourself a little, try to meet his movements as he chases his orgasm too. The “problem” with Chan is that his stamina is otherworldly. You couldn’t keep up if you wanted to. 

“Relax,” he says, tensing his jaw, doing the opposite himself. “Fuck — lie down.”

It’s pretty cramped and hard to move, but you lift yourself off him and only slightly lament at the sudden emptiness between your legs. There isn’t time to get too upset, however: moments after you get comfortable on your back, Chan shoves his jeans the rest of the way down and stands with one knee planted on the seats, lifting one of your ankles up to rest it on his shoulder. He slips back inside you easily then, gripping around your calf to keep you both steady. From the word go, his pace is relentless. You scrabble around for something to hold onto but the entire car seems to melt away; you ball your hands into fists at your sides instead, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. 

“Mm-mm. Look at me,” Chan hums, tightening his grip on your leg. “Wanna see those pretty eyes.” 

You obey, opening your lids to look up at him while he pounds into you hard enough to make the car shake. Over, and over, and over, and over. Rougher. Faster. For how long? Who even knows. All you’re truly aware of is how good it feels. How the windows grow foggy with the  steam of your laboured breaths. How his sweat mingles with your own. 

When his fingers on the other hand get reacquainted with your clit, when he bites down on his bottom lip, when his thrusts start to get messier and more erratic and the veins in his arms start to bulge out, you know he’s getting close. He doesn’t need to tell you out loud. The smirk he wears speaks for itself. 

“Where d’you want it, baby?” He asks you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle. 

“In— mmh, in-…side me—” you stammer, hips jolting as you near your second orgasm to match his first. “Please, Chan — want it all…”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah—”

Well, he must’ve been holding himself back something spectacular, because a few thrusts later you watch all of his muscles contract as he tips over the edge, and you go hurtling with him. It’s all so much. All your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and your vision starts to blur at the edges; it’s not long before you have to close your eyes to shut one of your overworked senses out, completely. Your muscles are sore. Your throat hurts. Even your lungs ache. 

God, he hasn’t gone that hard in so long, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can barely speak — it’s going to take you a week to recover from this, minimum. 

He stills deep inside you, feeling his cock throb with the last pumps of his release. Your leg slips off his shoulder and your foot lands down with a thud onto the car’s (thankfully clean) floor; he bends forward to kiss you, still breathing heavily against your lips. You’ve come over completely boneless and reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair again feels like running a marathon at sprint pace. You’d fall asleep right here, right now, if you could, but with sweat cooling rapidly against your skin, you know that’s probably not up there as one of your finest ideas. 

“You really think getting involved with me was stupid?” Chan asks, nudging your nose with the tip of his own. He’s never been less serious than this in his entire life, which stops you feeling too bad when you lightly slap at his rock solid chest and try to push him off you.

“Yes,” you lie, attempting to reach to the ground for your pyjama shirt while he grips your chin and attacks you with tiny little pecks all over your face. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

(Chan chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s quite happy to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, really. He can stay that way, as long as you promise never to stop.)

thank you so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it - likes, feedback, comments, reblogs are all so appreciated.<3

[swee7dream]

hi vixy! i miss you sm 😞🫶 being here is just not the same when i'm not interacting w/ you (ノ_＜。) and im here in your inbox for a request!

remember when i always gush about your use of endearments? atm, im craving for a hc fic of 7dreamies using their favorite endearment/petname/nickname for reader >< i absolutely think that they have their own ways and the oddest yet the most endearing nicknames for their special ppl and i think about it everytime i read your fics bcuz there is that kind of spice of it in your works (*^-^) and i love it ^^

i hope you're doing well, love! have a great day (人´ｴ`*)♪

xoxo, wynnie.

7dream's nicknames for their partners nct dream x f!reader

genres fluff, established relationship warnings feminine pet names used, quasi-suggestive but not really ( renjun ) author's note omg not the love letter in my inbox !!! love u 5ever wynnie . sorry the bulletpoints are kinda short, i tried to make up for it in the mini-fics ! ty for the request + i hope u like it !

mark lee (ᓀ‸ᓂ)

a very simple, casual guy

babe, dude (romantically), my girl

he can’t even tease you when you tell him it gives you butterflies because he’s the exact same way, giggling into his hand and turning away to hide his silly grin from you

call him dude though? he’ll be sulky until the next day (as if, he melts into a puddle with just one kiss)

“dude,” mark calls out from the hallway, still unsure where everything is still, being your first sleepover. “have you seen my charger? i don’t know where i left it.” “i dunno, man. you should ask your girlfriend.” “wow…” he extends the word in between laughter. he shuffles in his slides back into the bedroom, doubling over your body laying comfortably under sheets. “you are my girlfriend.” “nuh-uh. i’m your dude. your bro. your homeslice.” you over-emphasize the last word, flicking your tongue like a snake. “more like my homewife.” he giggles, reaching up to peck your lips. “that was terrible.” “come on! that’s worth at least half a point.” “negative eight thousand points.”

huang renjun ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა

my love, darling, sweetheart

in my heart of hearts i view huang renjun as the definition of a romantic

maybe he won’t have diamond necklaces for you every date night, but he always makes sure to show his love in the small, important things

he has your favorite snack for when you get home, changes the bedsheets when you forget to, and refills the soap bottles in the bathroom before you even notice you’re running low

“you took care of the dishes.” renjun jumps in his seat, not even hearing when you came in. “i did.” he turns from his canvas to look at you, smiling as you’re already wrapping your arms around his waist. “how was your day, my love?” “exhausting. you are the sexiest man alive, you know that?” you mumble into his hair. “for washing dishes?” “so hot.” you nod, squeezing him tighter. “gee, thanks,” he chuckles, reaching a hand up to scratch your head. “how about a bath? wash away all that exhaustion.” “join me?” you pout. “of course, darling.”

lee jeno ૮ .◜◡◝ა

doll, baby, babydoll

you are a living, breathing doll to him and everyone needs to know!!!!!

he forgets he’s literally mr. ferragamo sometimes and just stares at you with super heart eyes like:

wow (ෆ人ෆ) that’s my baby

“what about this one?” you spin in to give jeno a 360. “i really liked it in the store but i’m not so sure about it now.” “you’re the prettiest girl ever, doll.” jeno sits with his legs spread, his hands in the middle holding the edge of the chair he sits on. “pretty, pretty, pretty.” “thank you, jen.” you look at him. “but i’m asking about the clothes. i don’t know if this shade suits me! or maybe it’s the texture of the clothes? actually, it might be the material.” “everything suits you. if it doesn’t, it’s because the designer was stupid. you’re the pinnacle of fashion, babydoll.” “you’re silly.” you giggle, walking toward him to dig your fingers into the back of his hair. “you don’t think i should return it?” “absolutely not. you look great in red, baby.” “this is white, jen.” “whatever. gimme a kiss.”

lee donghyuck ʕ˙Ⱉ˙‧:ʔ

baby, sunshine, sweetheart (derogatory)

outsiders looking in eavesdropping on your conversations don’t know if you’re about to bite each other heads off or make out against the wall

what else could you expect from haechan ‘dating is so boring, let's be best friend and act like in a relationship’ lee

you feel a dark energy looming over your shoulder, as you often have since saying yes to your first date with hyuck. you continue to feel it as your card taps on the reader, beeping happily at the successful payment, unaware of the incoming chaos. “oh heck yeah! thanks for the food, sis!” haechan’s hand sneaks around to hold the back of your head, pulling you into a deep kiss. he only squeals like an anime girl as your hands slide up to push him away and turn to the cashier, apologizing profusely and failing to convince them that you’re not, in fact, related. “thanks for treating me, sweetheart.” “hey siri, search shooting ranges near me.” “wait, baby no-”

na jaemin ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

lovey, princess, my muse

fun fact: he loves being called prince. having matchy matchy names makes his heart full and gives his life purpose (his words)

i put those three down but honestly, it really depends on the day. he’s constantly making new ones every single hour

he sees you in the flowers growing in the cracks in the sidewalk (‘petal’), in the songs of the birds outside (‘birdy’), in that one painting he saw back in a museum in italy (‘angel’)

“oh wait, i like these!” you swipe through some candid photos jaemin took of you of a trip you two took a while back on his phone. “how come you didn’t send me these?” “if i sent you every picture i took of you you would think i’m a crazed stalker.” “i know you are and i still love you.” you smile at him before turning back to the phone screen. “urgh. you’re always changing my name in your contacts. what is it now?” “munchy.” “munchy?” you stare at him with your eyes furrowed, having turned in slow motion as if you heard him wrong. “that was the name of one of the tortoises we saw at the zoo. he was so cute. it reminded me of you when you eat pasta. so you’re munchy.” “…okay, jaem. thanks, i think.”

zhong chenle (ᯟ︿ᯏ)

babe, dollface, beautiful

surprisingly, not a big petname user. not at first at least

but one time he clocked you getting pouty and in your head and learned that you liked being called sweet things other than your name.

“what’s wrong with your name? i like your name, dollface.” you can see something switch inside of his mind. “mmm, okay. i’ll try.”

“i miss you…” even through the phone, chenle can’t help but smile at your voice. “please don’t die.” “i’m at the grocery store for ice cream you asked for, dollface. i’m not gonna die.” “what if you get hit by a car?” you sniffle, hormones overwhelming you. “i’ll survive.” “how do you know?” “i just do. you should know by now i’m superman, babe.” “fly home, le. wanna cuddle.” “don’t threaten me with a good time.” he chuckles, phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder as he places your ice cream—and a couple other things he thought you might appreciate—on the counter to be rung up. “stay put, beautiful. i’m coming.”

park jisung (∩˃o˂∩)

babe, dude, pretty (used EXCLUSIVELY behind closed doors)

bro gets embarrassed just breathing air, you think he’s gonna have the guts to be cheesy with you in public?

even calling you babe in public has him with his voice lowered.

it’s really counteractive considering being so shy about things brings only more attention to him from his friends

“could you pass me my phone?” jisung’s request flies over your head as the group conversation is alive and well around you. “babe,” he mutters, finally getting your attention. “can you pass me my phone?” in good 7dream fashion, all the boys ‘ooh’ at him, haechan and mark fangirling obnoxiously. “baby darling sugarplum angelface!” donghyuck mocks, laughing at jisung holding his head in his hands, being consoled by your rubbing his back. “could you pass me my phone, my darling sweetheart pookiebear cupcake?”

author's note i fear i'm running out of themes for fic headers !!!!! why was i not blessed with the moodboard bone all my other lovely mutuals have D:

[literallydontknowdontcare]

I’m literally BEGGING a Vanessa x fem!reader where Vanessa gets jelly and it ends up in rough/angry sex

You DO Own Me

Vanessa Shelly/Afton x Fem Reader

PLUS this request: “Can we get Vanessa fucking y/n roughly? Like pulling hair, biting neck and scratching back type of rough?”

a/n: yessir 😜 merged this request with another anon as they coincide… sorry for the delay in fics. I am still sick but that not my excuse: my excuse is I'm lazy lol. This may be shit, sorry ;')

Content/Warnings: Top/Rough Vanessa, Bottom sub reader, smut, choking, strap use [r receiving], rough sex, not proofread/edited, Vanessas kind of an asshole but that's hot

w/c: 2024

The ride home was silent. Well, not completely. Though Vanessa was extremely unimpressed, her lips pressed together and her hands gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned white, you were having the time of your life. Under the influence of alcohol, you were giddy and chatty, oblivious to your girlfriend's simmering anger beside you.

“And I literally told Mike that he was insane for thinking those robots cut him in his sleep, but of COURSE he decided to ignore me and continued to take those pills. I mean, really? The poor man is half asleep most of the time!”, you huff, recalling your last shift. “What do you think?”, you turn to Vanessa, your half dazed, half-blushed face informing her that you really did have no idea that she was mad.

“Mm”, she replied, uninterested. You, again, didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. “I know! Maybe I should replace them with some melatonin gummies.. He probably wouldn’t notice”, you giggle, rolling down the front window to breathe. Fanning yourself, the alcohol making you overheated, you gaze at the stars outside in awe. The outdoors really does hit differently when you’re drunk. Unbeknownst to you, Vanessa was seconds from snapping. Pulling into the driveway of your shared home and parking her personal vehicle beside her cop car, she immediately stepped outside as soon as the gas turned off and slammed the door shut, ignoring your own door and walking to the front of the house. You frown, beginning to zone back in.

“Maybe she just forgot”, you think, in reference to her not racing to open your door or offering to carry you inside as she usually would. Stumbling out of the car, you follow behind her into the house. “Vanessa?”, you ask aloud, wondering where she disappeared to in the span of two seconds. Pausing, you try to listen for any footsteps around the house for any indication of her location. Nothing. “Vanessa? Baby?”, you repeat, concerned now. Half limping, you shrug off your jacket and kick off your heels, wandering around the house. Finally, in the corner of your eye, you see the upstairs office light getting turned on.

Sprinting up the stairs, going as fast as your tipsy body would allow you to, you head for the office. Before you could open the door you heard a mumbling sound. Cracking the door open, you witness your girlfriend pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance, talking to someone on the phone.

“Yes, yes. I understand. I just thought- no thank you. I’ll be alright. Sorry for the misunderstanding”, Vanessa answered someone on the line, grinding her teeth when she saw you enter. “Thank you. Have a good one”, she hung up the phone, turning away from you and leaning against the desk.

“Vanessa? What’s wrong?”, you whisper. She snorted.

“What? Now you notice?”, she spits, still not turning around.

You bit your lip, anxious at her reply. “What was the phone call about?”

“Work. Nothing for you to worry about”, she then laughs. “Not that you were, to begin with”. She leans over the desk, reaching for a pen and paper to jot something down, and you try to not let your mind race with thoughts of her rolling her hips forward as you can tell she needs comfort right now, not a horny girlfriend.

You walk towards her nervously. “Are you okay baby? You were fine in the car-”

She snaps at you. “No. I wasn’t. If you weren’t so lightweight you would know that”. Stillness filled the air, the only noise coming from the scribbles of the pen as Vanessa jotted down the information from the phone call.

Coming up behind her, you gently place your hand on the back of her arm. “Is this- is this about Mike?”, you watch her jaw clench from the side. Blinking in surprise, you reiterate. “It is? Isn’t it?”

“Drop it”, Vanessa scowls, shoving herself off the table. Your foggy brain couldn’t help but think ‘muscle memory’ with the way she practically ground against it in annoyance.

“Are you serious? He’s a respectful guy! His old crush means nothing”, you protest.

“Nothing? You make me sick”

“What do you want from me? For me to spit on him and never talk to him again?”, you snap, frustrated now.

She crosses her arms. “Preferably”, she snickers. She comes closer to you. “Or maybe you like the attention? Hm?”

You pull away, hurt. You’d like to believe she was drunk saying this, but she was completely sober. “Vanessa-”

“Poor you, huh? Do I not give you enough attention? Is my poor baby always so needy”, she mocked, snarling.

You blink away tears and begin to walk out of the office when you feel a gust of wind and a sudden thud against your back. Gasping, you slam into the wall, your head narrowly missing the collision. Before you could turn around, you felt Vanessa pin your hands behind your back, her cuffs clenching around your wrists and shutting with a loud ‘click’.

“What the fuck Van-FUCK”, your sentence gets cut off as you hear a loud smack; Vanessa had just hit your ass. You feel numb for a few seconds, and then everything after that. You whine out, trying to cover yourself as she grabs your cuffed wrists and pins them above your head, her other hand coming around your waist to arch your back towards her. “Always whining. Never taking what I give you”. She slaps you again, the force of her hand biting your skin, surely leaving red marks that would turn purple tomorrow. You bite your lip, pain, and pleasure fighting to take over your emotions. You settle on both and she digs into your scalp, raising you up to her. You whimper out as she turns your head to the side and begins to suck at the front of your neck. Your life flashes before your eyes; having to walk in tomorrow at Freddy’s, a hickey so prominent that any efforts to hide it with makeup make it look evening trashier, and Mike seeing exactly what she did to you. You never understood her anger when it came to Mike; she liked him well enough. You just were never allowed to talk to him, apparently.

“Vanessa, please”, you whisper as she bites the side of your neck, pain seeping in. Squirming, she finally releases you. You flop against the wall, breathing heavily as she stares you down.

“Look at you”, she hisses. Everything about Vanessa commanded respect. Not one part of her demonstrated sex except for her slightly flushed cheeks and large pupils. Her hair was perfectly in place, her shirt was properly ironed. You, on the other hand, were tied up, beaten, and most definitely not commanding respect. It was exactly how Vanessa liked it on days like this.

She leans forward, tangling her hands gently in your hair. She tugs on your strands gently, lulling you into a false sense of security as you close your eyes, content. You should have known it wouldn’t last. “Pathetic, you are”, she says. Suddenly, she drags you to the office desk, making you gasp out in pain, flinging your hands to hers in a poor attempt to release her grip. Shoving you over the desk, she had you right where she wanted you in the first place; bent over and tied. “What, you thought I was going to treat you?”, she laughs. You stutter, words being unable to properly form. “Nothing happened! You were there the whole time! Why am I being punished for your jealousy issues?”, you yell out as she begins to scratch your back deeply. Her nails dig into your skin, fire spreading everywhere you touch. Wailing and twitching in her grasp, you hear her from behind. “Stupid girl. So disappointing when you act out against me”, she taps on the handcuffs. “Are you forgetting who protects you? I can harm you instead if you want baby, just ask”. She pauses, waiting for your reply. Nothing.

She smiles. You can feel the cockiness being emitted without even seeing her. Instead, you intently stare at the table, wishing you were in bed right now instead of feeling the humiliation of your girlfriend lifting up your skirt to check your panties.

The cold table was a harsh polarity to your pussy; you hated how your pussy was throbbing faster than your heart. Vanessa hummed from behind you, clearly amused and proud of you. Leaning over you, the shape of her breasts being felt against your back despite her clothing, she whispers a soft “I love how much of a whore you are”, before standing back up and softly grinding her front against your bare ass. You widen your eyes as you feel something hard press against you. You love how hot and cold Vanessa can be. No matter how rough and angry she can get, she can never resist treating you first.

The sound of her unzipping her pants was as close as you were ever going to get to hearing church bells. Hell, even angels singing couldn’t replicate the sound of her strap slapping your pussy. Shutting your eyes, your brace yourself against the table, moaning as her cock dipped into your soft entrance.

“You think you deserve this?”, she asks, moving your hair back with her hands, a gesture she couldn’t help doing. Not when she knew you did nothing wrong.

You nod desperately, grinding your ass back into her strap, your pussies walls clenching around nothing in a desperate attempt for friction.

Vanessa stayed silent as she plunged her cock into your pussy. You, however, most definitely did not. Your screams filled the quaint neighbourhood as she thrusted into you at a brutal pace that didn’t account for your lack of adjustment. Your hands gripped anything on the table in sight, your body becoming simultaneously needy and overstimulated. “P-please Vanessa slow- oh FUCK yes-”, you cry out, conflicted with the pain.

She rakes her hands over your ass, switching between slapping your reddened cheeks and clawing at your lower back. Hearing her deep, ragged breaths, you knew she was close; the strap hit her clit at every thrust, making her let out lowly strained moans. “Van-”, you roll your eyes back, your vision turning white. She was hitting your gummy walls so right that it felt insane. Your arousal was streaming down the table and her legs, which Vanessa acknowledged by letting out a snort.

“Need to come, baby?”, she hummed. You whine, grinding back. You needed this release so badly; anything Vanessa had told you had already been forgiven.

“V- nessa I need to.. Please”, you bite your lip and squint your eyes, begging yourself to not release before she allowed you to do so. You couldn’t risk more punishment. She sighed as if thinking about it. She sped up the pace, pounding the strap in a way that made it ten times more pleasurable for her as it did for you.

As your fingers grabbed at the table, she let out the smallest whimper that made you go feral. You pleaded, over and over again, to come. You felt extremely betrayed and turned on as Vanessa slumped forward, her chest heaving from cumming quietly. “Oh y/n”, she moaned, “Cum now baby”, she snaked her arm around your waist to bring your ass up even higher as you came with a loud cry.

You let go of the table, your body now going limp. “Vanessa”, you sigh, unable to move. Despite your comfortable position, consisting of you flopping across the table and Vanessa holding you loosely with her strap still half inside of you, she pulls out and forcefully slips you over way too soon for your brain. The pleasure was turning into pain again, and you hiss as your ass makes contact with the table, the marks making it unbearable.

“Don’t think this is over”, she murmurs as you pull her closer.

You look at her, confused.

“It’s only 1 am. If you think I’m done with you, you are sorely mistaken”

[suguru-getos]

-> 𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖𝕤 - 𝕘𝕠𝕛𝕠 𝕤𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕦 𝕩 𝕗!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

a/n: it’s been a while since i wrote something comforting w/ my baby 🥺🩵 | warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, smut, oral, breeding, baths 🛁, aftercare

the weekend! the bloody weekend! you could swear everyday at work you’d wander off to the thought of getting some much needed rest, getting some solace & some soft and tender slow-ness to your otherwise fast paced routine. it was getting mundane — coming home from work, having dinner with your husband, sometimes (oftentimes) having dinner alone, and then being too exhausted to do anything but surrendering to slumber.

satoru was couped up in missions, busy as ever. being the gojo clan’s head and one of the key members of sorcerery had it’s disadvantages. sigh. at this point, you’re starting to get cranky with just how much you ache for him, just how much you miss him.

your thoughts are hazy, the only thing that’s keeping you going despite the sheer exhaustion your body is going through is how satoru will lose it. he bought your last company — because they wouldn’t give you sick off. you snickered at the rollback of memories. now that company is one of the prominent ones in japan. you could may as well be the ceo & enjoy, but satoru knows, or as he says, “you’re a masochist aren’t you princess? love tormenting yourself?” yeah, you kind of… do. you just want to work because it helps you not get bored… and makes you realize that you could have it if you wanted to; without anyone’s help. so, when it comes to your job, you truly try your best to keep satoru at bay.

you drive home and get inside, opening the locked door. your beautiful cat comes and nuzzles against your leg, and you kneel, kissing his forehead & letting him boop his nose against yours. the smell of home was always divine, always soothing & always comforting. you wonder if satoru does something to this god damn gojo estate to make it so inhabitable.

“oh? jesus he’s trying to compete again?” his footsteps echo and your blush creeps in instantly at his voice. despite being married for a few years, he still manages to give you the same butterflies as he did on the very first date. wearing cushioned slip ons, walking towards the door as looming & large that he is, his soft baby grin is demanding a kiss. “i told your little kitty that i’d be the first to kiss mama. look at him though.” he grins, leaning in to reach your stature and capturing your lips in a soft, exquisitely gentle kiss. the pads of his fingers grip your chin, his hunger for you is insatiable yet, satoru makes sure to love you in a way you’ve always needed. you often wonder how he does that — how he knows when you need your guts rearranged and when you need reassurance. you suppose you’ve just gotten lucky in choosing the perfect man to exist.

“i missed my baddie.” he winks, leaning away, his usual glossed lips shining so much more with your saliva coating them. “come on~” he coos, holding your bag and letting you rest. the next moment you’re embraced princess-style, leaning against his chest & all thoughts whatsoever frighteningly subdued with his cologne. “i love you, toru, missed you.” you managed to mumble out, barely audible.

it’s truly magnetic, how he manages to make such a putty out of someone so formidable & so unbending, so firm & so stern with anything & everything. if the people around you would see you with your husband, they’d get confused with your entire being.

“i love you so much more, missed you every second, every minute of the day.” he hums, nuzzling his nose against you & kissing the crown of your head. “i’ve ran a bath for you pri-”

you cut him off, not your fault he looks entirely godly, unfathomably devoted & so nurturing. you had to cut him off with a kiss. lips hungrily devouring his, hands threading against his hair and scratching his undercut. it’s like you turn a different switch on whenever you teasingly caress his undercut. it smells so good — he’s already making you loopy.

you’re the only one who cuts off the kiss, leaning back and panting softly. “or… maybe she can have a bath after.” satoru coos, gentle as ever. leaning in and exhaling against the shell of your ear. “after she’s given what she needs… mm?”

and just like that you’re nestled against the plush mattress of your master bedroom. the lighting dim enough to unwind, satoru’s large & looming hands threading through your clothes and unlayering you. “my sweet present!” he chirps, grinning and rewarding you with sweet kisses with every layer of clothing that’s discarded.

your giggles echo through the room when you’re finally naked, his own tee leaves his body, granting your parched senses the sight of his abs. he smiles, holding your wrist and letting your palm brush against his abs. “all yours.” it’s like a prayer, no — it’s the inverse of it, it’s like he’s declaring something for the both of you. that no matter what the ring on his finger & the name on his heart will always be yours.

“wan’ you so bad.” you managed to whine, needily glazed at his face & pouting. “me too, little baby. want you so bad. need to feel you, need to taste you.” he smiles softly, leaning in and holding both your wrists in one hand, pinning him atop your head against the mattress while his mouth continues to labor against your supple skin. muzzled! satoru needs to get muzzled — with how his teeth graze at your skin, how his mouth marks and breaks your skin with prominent hickeys.

your submission is evident with the way you squirm under him, panting heavily. “please- mm~” the sweet ache in your pelvis is too much to bear. especially when his mouth wraps around your tits, suckling softly, nibbling at it softly. “that’s it, sing for me.” he hums, kneading the other one & pinching the lonely nipple.

your wrist is having a mind of it’s own, struggling to touch him, to feel him. it enables a soft smirk out of him. it’s always nice to have an example of you wanting him as much as he does. his hand leaves your chainned wrist, rendering you free & letting you touch & caress his muscular, broad back, play with his hair, respond with kisses and hickeys of your own.

a soft trail of kisses from the valley of your breasts to your sternum, reaching your waist, followed by a needy inhale of your dripping cunt disarrayed your thoughts completely. “aw she missed me too.” satoru nuzzles his nose against your puffy, needy clit, spreading your pussy-lips with his thumbs. “my little girl missed me too~” he always talks to you down there, how could it not make you hoplessly throb?

he chuckles when you do so, “yeah? wanna kiss me?” he leans in and starts suckling at your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“gah- toru! nn~” you moaned out at the warmth of his mouth against you, at the way his tongue flicked at your clit over & over. so skillful, all-knowing of your pleasure points. his thumb comes to play again, pushing the protective hood up & exposing your clit bare. your eyes widen when he starts licking and suckling rhythmically and you scream out at the soft, but firm nibbling of your nerve bundle. you could come undone so easily it was almost embarrassing.

“m’ close! sah- mm~ toru- oh god-”

your moans are making the tent in his pants ten times harder to bear, pre-staining him as he continues to ravage you senselessly. parched. hungry. starving…

your body betrays you as you topple off the apex of pleasure, shivering like a dried autumn leaf beneath him and letting the powerful waves of pleasure take you for a ride. satoru’s tongue mercilessly rides it out for you, half-lidded at the taste of you. you’re molten sin.

“good girl, that’s it.” his lips shine with your essence coated, and he licks em’ with his tongue and grins. high on you. dazed on you. the sound of his zipper echoes through the room, dwindling with your panting.

a sinful moan escapes you when his fat mushroom tip plunges against your sobbing hole, his own disarrayed groan prominent. the stretch and the ache is undeniable, your hands helplessly latching onto his back and your pussy twitching & clamping to get used to him. satoru is big. you’d think you’d get used to him after all these years but not quite so…

his tongue wraps around your nipple as he hums. “so warm and tight, so fit to be my breeding baby.” the words out of his mouth are filth. and yet with the way you helplessly twitch around him he knows you love it. his cock starts to move inside you, rutting against the sweet spots you have and smirking at the lewd noises your cunt makes for him. “fuck- fuck- feels s’ good! ca-can’t oh my god-!” you cry out, eyes losing focus, mind and body tamed just right.

“yeah? m’ your god baby? the honored one? hmm?”

satoru hums, leaning in and kissing you passionately, eating away at your moans and your helpless whimpers. your nails have indented & scratched his back just right. the dull ache of it only makes him rut against you harder.

his fingers trail down again, pressing against the sweet bundle of nerves and rubbing in circles. you need to cum with him, you have to cum with him.

you’re seeing stars soon, the ache builds again, ragged breaths and bated pants echoing through the sanctuary of your bedroom. “yeah baby, i know- i know- you’re close, go on. show me what my princess can do. milk me like a good girl. don’t waste a drop.” he groans, leaning his head back as his adam’s apple bobs. his own thrusts are getting sloppier. he needs you carnally.

“gah- shit! fuck- fuck- mmgh~” it’s not too long before you tip off the edge again, gummy walls clamping and massaging the shaft of his cock and stopping only at the taste of his seed in your womb. stopping only at the familiar warmth soothing your bruised pussy.

satoru kisses your jaw, muttering soft, apologetic praises. “that’s it baby, you feel so good, you take me so well, couldn’t do it without you-” you’re latching onto his every word, half-lidded and drunk on pleasure, hugging him softly. now comes the wave of content exhaustion.

satoru keeps you cockwarming him and hugging him as he leans you against his chest, hands caressing through your hair and peppering soft, feather-like kisses all over your face. “i love you, sweet girl.” he muses, “love you too- toru,” you respond back, sighing happily at the warmth of his skin.

satoru takes you to the bathroom, and your eyes gleam at the way he’s prepared your bath. you could almost cry from the intense spoiling. your favorite space-galaxy lamp, your favorite scented candles, flower-petals, bubbles just right, jaccuzi working just fine. “see? told ya~ gonna help you unwind.” he croons. smiling when your eyes light up at the setup. he knows you loved it.

he’s quick to kiss your forehead and settle in with you, hands massaging your body and letting you nap on him. these are the times when satoru considers himself the most lucky. he has someone he loves with the entirety of his being — and they love him back? how fucking lucky!

and you do, you do love him back with all your heart & soul. you’re blessed to have someone like satoru gojo.

[yxngbxkkie]

personal trainer (s.c)

hello, hello!! this took me quite a while to finish, but i'm glad i completed it 🤭 i hope you guys enjoy this cute piece! let me know what you think 🩷

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

“Holy shit,” you mutter to yourself, getting out of the Uber's backseat. You quickly thank the driver and shut the vehicle's door. The driver takes off, waving to you as he drives away.

This place is huge. You think to yourself while walking up to the front door. You hike your gym back up on your shoulder, taking the weight of it off for a few seconds.

“Man, I'm nervous,” you laugh to yourself, rubbing your hands together before pressing the doorbell.

A few days ago, you found a post on Instagram stating that they're a personal trainer looking for clients. You've been trying to get back into your health kick, but it's been a little difficult. After debating with yourself for a good half-hour, you finally made an appointment.

The door opens up, snapping you from your thoughts. A man who's a little shorter than you stands in front of you, a smile on his lips. “Hi! Thanks so much for coming,” he greets warmly, making space for you to come in.

“Thank you for having me. I've never had a personal trainer before,” you giggle, stepping inside the fancy place. “I didn't realize your place would be so… stunning.”

He blushes at your words, his eyes looking around his parents' house. “Oh, thank you. It's actually my parents. I don't have a gym in my apartment, so they let me use theirs,” he mentions while scratching the back of his neck.

Your eyes widen. Oh, this is his parents' house? Wow. You think as you look around, admiring the infrastructure. “That's so nice of them,” you tell him, adoring that his parents are helping with his career. “I'm Y/N, by the way.”

The black-haired man shakes your hand, grinning at you. “It's nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Changbin,” he introduces himself. “I want to thank you again for reaching out. I honestly didn't think anyone would go for it.”

“Oh, really??” You ask, surprised. “I've been trying to go back to the gym, but no luck. I figure this would be better motivation for me.”

“Well, you're in luck!” Changbin rubs his hands together, leading you through his parents' place. “Our home gym has everything one needs, no matter what type of route you're going for.”

You smile at his excitement, blindly following the handsome guy. Your jaw drops when you two enter the home gym, and it looks absolutely stunning.

“Oh, wow!” You whisper, stepping further into the room. You set your bag on the floor as Changbin moves to grab a clipboard that's nearby.

“Okay, so, could I just have you fill this out? That way, I know what you're experienced with and what you're looking to achieve,” he explains while leading you towards a seat.

You sit down and take the clipboard from his hands. “Oh, so fancy,” you giggle, taking a look at the questionnaire he made.

Changbin's cheeks blush, and he hands you a pen. “It sounds okay? This is my first time having a client,” he laughs. “I just graduated a couple of months ago, and I've been so excited to start my new career. I didn't realize it'd be so hard to start up.”

“Oh, my god! Congratulations on graduating, and I'm glad that I can be the first to upstart your career,” you say to him, crossing a leg over the other. “I'll be sure to boast about you to all my friends.”

He smiles at you, breathing a sigh of relief. “You are so kind, oh my god,” he giggles, not expecting it to be so high-pitched.

Your heart flutters in your chest, finding this man in front of you to be so fucking adorable. You press your lips together as Changbin excuses himself really quickly.

“I'm going to get some water. Do you have any?” He asks you, walking towards the double doors. He leaves after you nod your head, leaving you to fill out the paper in your hands.

You start to answer the questions he asked, making sure to put your name and number at the top. You know, just in case he needs to get in touch with you. The only reason. You try to convince yourself, not minding the idea of seeing Changbin outside of the gym.

You're just finishing when Changbin walks back into the room, drinking from the bottle in his hands. “Just in time,” you chuckle, holding out the clipboard to him.

He grabs it from you, and he reads it over quickly. “Okay, great, this is good,” he mutters, his eyes dancing down the paper.

“For today, we’ll just do a quick circuit,” Changbin mentions, setting the clipboard onto the table. “And, if you're okay with it, I can make a nutrition sheet if you need help with that.”

“If you would,” you agree with a nod of your head. “What do you want me doing first?”

“I'll have you start with cardio,” he informs you, leading you towards the treadmill.

~

An employee drops off your acai bowl before walking back towards the counter. You hum in delight, looking down at the delicious looking bowl. You take your phone out, taking a picture of it before sending it to Changbin.

It's been a few weeks since you've started seeing him, and it's been a lot of fun. He's the type of personal trainer that's not super strict if you fuck up, which is nice. Plus, he's fucking adorable.

Your phone vibrates against the table, seeing a notification from Changbin. You take a bite of your food, rolling your eyes back at how good it tastes.

You went!! I'm so proud of you! You'll enjoy it, I promise!

Changbin wrote a few healthy places for you to eat at, and after a few sessions, you finally convinced yourself to try it out. Your cheeks flush at his texts, specifically the words, “I'm so proud.”

You hide your face in your hands, not knowing how much more of his cuteness you can take. You text him back real quick before going back to eating your acai bowl.

You find yourself zoning out at the table, continuing your eating. A knock on the window you're sitting beside startles you, making you jump in your seat.

Changbin excitingly waves at you through the glass. Before you have the chance to return it, he's making his way inside. He plops down in a chair beside you, letting his bag fall to the floor.

“So, how is it? Which one did you get?” He asks you, inspecting the bowl.

“I got the tropical bowl,” you tell him, showing him what's inside the healthy dish. “And, it's so good. I never should've doubted you.”

He smiles at you and playfully punches your arm, a habit he does a lot. “I told you. You should be listening to your personal trainer,” he winks at you, grinning ear to ear.

You roll your eyes jokingly and shake your head. “Yes, Changbin, I should've listened to you! I'm so sorry!” You apologize dramatically, clasping your hands together.

“You're so cute,” Changbin laughs, leaning back against the chair.

A blush dusts your cheeks, tearing your gaze from him. He thinks I'm cute? You giggle softly, tucking some hair behind your ear. “Do– Do you want to try this?” You ask him, getting some of the food onto the spoon.

“May I?” He asks politely as you hold it out to him.

You nod your head, swallowing thickly. Changbin leans forward, pushing the spoon past his lips. You continue to hold the spoon, noticing how intimate this looks.

“Is it good?” You ask in a whisper, pulling the now empty spoon back.

He hums in response, nodding his head as he chews. “Very good,” he giggles, holding a hand over his mouth until he's finished eating. “Do you want to have a quick workout session? I haven't had my workout today, and if you want… I'd like to hang out a bit longer.”

“Yeah, I'd love to!” You beam at him, finishing up your acai bowl.

It didn't take very long to get to Changbin's house, a twenty minute car ride max. You're glad that you decided to wear leggings and a tank top today. Otherwise, all you'd be able to do is watch.

“Take me through your workout,” you say to him, walking into the spacious gym behind him. “I wanna see what personal trainer Changbin does.”

He chuckles but nods his head, walking over to one of the workout benches. You follow suit, crossing your arms over your chest.

His gaze moves to you once he sits on the bench. “Do you want to guess how much I can bench?” Changbin asks, a smirk settling on his lips.

You giggle before humming, tapping a finger against your chin. You don't say anything yet, taking a step towards him. “Well, if these are any indicators,” you pause, touching Changbin's bicep. “I would guess about 117.”

His skin warms up at your touch, making his head spin a little bit. “You're close! I can bench 130,” Changbin tells you, and your jaw drops.

“130? Holy shit,” you squeeze his bicep, not expecting that number.

He smirks and flexes his muscles. “Stand back, I'll show you,” he mentions while laying back on the bench.

You giggle, noticing how the correct amount of plates is already on the bar. “Did you set this up?” You ask before he starts, biting your lip gently.

Changbin scoffs, avoiding your eyes as he grips the metal bar. “No, no, of course not,” he plays off, feeling his cheeks blush. “I must've forgotten to unload it yesterday.”

“Mhm,” you play along with his lie, finding it cute. “So, you didn't plan any of this to impress me?”

He shakes his head, clearing his throat before starting his reps. You lick your lips as he swiftly does ten reps. Changbin places the bar back on the rack, sitting up after it's secured.

“That's quite impressive,” you tell him, taking a step forward and resting a hand on the weights. “Maybe sometime you can try to bench press me.”

The buff brunette chokes on his own saliva, his wide eyes looking up at you. “W-What?” He stumbles over his words, his fingers gripping the gym shorts he's sporting.

“Oh, come on, you heard me,” you laugh, tucking some hair behind your ear. “One night when you're free, let's get together so you can bench press me.”

He watches as you chuckle, smiling cutely at him. Changbin stands up from his seat, his hands finding a place on your waist. “Will it be alright if I did more than bench press you?”

Your cheeks blush at his question, and you nod your head in answer. He brings a hand to your face, gently cupping your cheek. You look up at him, noticing his eyes glued to your lips.

“You can kiss me… if you want,” you whisper loud enough for him to hear, pressing your forehead against his.

His eyes flick up to look into yours, a smile coming to his lips. Your hands find a place on his biceps, squeezing the large muscles softly. Changbin leans forward, capturing your lips with his.

Your stomach flips as you kiss him back instantly, moving to wrap your arms around his neck. His hands travel down your sides to the back of your thighs, lifting you with ease.

“Are you free tonight?” He asks, pulling away from the kiss.

Changbin walks over towards the wall, pressing your body against it. “I'm free,” you mumble before reconnecting your lips.

“Would you wanna go out with me?” He asks another question, planting short kisses on your face and lips.

You nod your head, grinning ear to ear as you comb your fingers through his hair. “I'd love to, Changbin,” you giggle, pressing one last kiss on his lips.

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

[shojizbae]

Peeping Tom

Tamakixreader x mirio

Word count: 4K

Warnings: smut, voyeurism, oral (m&f receiving) jerking off, safe sex practices

Mirio didn’t mean to. He really didn’t. UA had very recently moved into the dorms when it happened. It was a Friday night, and he just finished a shower after getting home from his work study. Apparently, the walls were a little thinner than he expected.

Sometime around 8:30, he heard it. It started slow at first, talking. A movie played, but it changed so often that he couldn’t figure out which one. He had only a pair of sweatpants as he toweled off his hair when he heard it.

“(Y/n), woah!” It was the voice of his best friend and neighbor, Tamaki. His shy, elvish friend had finally confessed to his now girlfriend three months ago. (Y/n), a kind but rambunctious girl who had been dropping not-so-subtle hints for almost two years was one of Mirio’s favorites in the class.

Since getting together with Tamaki, she had drawn him out of his shell. It seemed tonight she would drag him out a little more complicated.

“What ‘woah’?” She gently placated

Now, Mirio, of all things, was not a snoop, but he was curious. Luckily, he wasn’t a cat, so he pressed his ear to their shared wall.

“W-we were just watching a movie. I didn’t expect you to get all handsy.” He said, and even through the wall, he could hear his best friend tucking his chin into his chest in embarrassment. So, they were finally gonna have sex?

Two weeks ago, Tamaki came to Mirio and Nejire with this concern. (Y/n) had very nonchalantly asked if he was ready or could consider getting physical with her. After about twenty minutes of gently calming him down, as he seemed to begin hyperventilating, he managed to say something he wanted meanly. Although his anxiety could try your patience occasionally, you were proud of the semi he was sprouting at the mention.

After that conversation, he went to Mirio, who coincidentally was with his girlfriend. He knocked at the door open (Y/n). Want to have sex with me!” He proclaimed in the closest voice he could muster. Unfortunately, he entered a scene from a magazine in the back of the store.

Nejire was in her school skirt and bra, her hair was disheveled but tucked to the side, and she was lying/ straddling Mirio's lap. Mirio was only in some checkered boxers and had one hand on her boobs and the other on her ass below her skirt. He managed a squeak before he spun around and slammed the door shut behind him.

His friends dressed quickly and chased him down, finding him with his head shoved deep into the dorm refrigerator.

“Uhh, Tamaki?” Mirio scratched his cheek but couldn’t hide his smile and his friend's antics

“Yeah, M-mirio?”

“Whatcha doing, man?”

“Uh, just getting a tea?”

“Yeah?” Nejire confirmed, “I thought Yaobara took the last ginseng one. And you hate the matcha ones?” Hado placated

“No, I think I see a Yuzu one back here.” He reached in and pulled out a can of lemonade and cracked the can open. He toon a sip just for show although not bringing himself to make eye contact “mmm refreshing. Well gotta get back to my dorm!” He tried to breeze past the couple until one of Mirio’s giant hands pushed him back by his chest.

“Slow down there, partner! What was this you said about you and (Y/n) having sex?”

“Mirio, not so loud!” Amajiki exclaimed

“Yeah, babe, why don’t we take this back to your dorm?”

“Right,” Mirio looked at his girlfriend with smitten eyes, then at Tamaki’s cherry-red eyes. “Why not yours?” He offered. Tamaki hung his head and pathetically followed the couple to Hado’s dorm room to discuss what this meant.

That was two weeks ago.

Ever since Togata had been anxiously waiting for some kind of sign that (Y/n) had gotten Tamaki into the sac. He felt like some religious fanatic awaiting a divine character, and here it was. Giggles and sighs, and the TV in Tamaki’s bedroom turned up a considerable few clicks.

He kept his ear pressed to the wall, but his curiosity was getting too powerful for him. Accidentally or subconsciously, he slipped through the wall, so his head and left should be passing ghostly through the barrier.- Now his head was in Tamaki’s dim closet where he always left his doors cracked for a long-standing fear of monsters. From his angle, he saw a scene that was downright painting-worthy.

You were sprawled over Tamaki’s lap with both hand tangled into the hair at the base of his neck. Tamaki had one hand up the back of your cardigan which was slipping down your right shoulder. It seemed he was fumbling with your bra clasp which frustrated Mirio because they had spent a considerable amount of time teaching him all about bras.

Frustratedly, you sat up and whipped your cardigan to the side, unclipping your bra and pulling it out of the front of your camisole slowly to tease your boyfriend. With the news he could see, Tamaki looked downright disfigured. His tie hung off his bedside lamp, the top three buttons of his school shirt had been hastily undone, and a speckling of hickies already decorated his neck and chest. Mirio heard him whimper below you as he braced his hands on your thighs.

“You’re beautiful (Y/n).” Tamaki proclaimed, which shocked both who’d heard it

“You don’t need to butter me up, babe, I’m already so wet for you.” You purred as you sunk back to his lips. Tamaki did his best to keep up with you, but the overwhelming barrage of kisses and the constant figure eight of your hips against his was becoming too much for him. Mirio watched in delight as you climbed. His best friend was like a hungry cougar. You gently placed your hands in each of his collarbones, pushed him back onto the plush pillows, and placed a gentle peck on his lips before shimmying down his thighs.

You landed softly on the carpet on your knees with your hands braced on his thighs.

“Uhh (Y/n), what are you…?”

“Shhh, babe, I want this to be special for you.” You held your pointer finger up to your lips in a hushing motion. Then you dug at his belt and enjoyed the iconic sound of a metal clacking against metal.

“(Y/n), You really don’t have to.” He anxiously pleads

“But, Ama, I want to.” That made something in Mirio’s stomach do Olympic gymnastics. There was a pleading glint in your eyes as you begged him silently. He closed his mouth and eyes and gave the subtlest nod known to man, and you dove back in. You tucked some hair behind your ear and undid the button and zipper of Tamaki’s green trousers.

“Take off your shirt, babe.” You ordered, and he obeyed happily as you tugged his boxers. He wriggled around and tossed his shirt into oblivion, and you fished his dick out of his briefs. “Woah, babe, you have such a pretty cock.” You stated proudly.

Mirio had to agree. Of course, he had accidentally caught glances in the locker room, but he was seldom hard in those situations. He could tell from this distance that your statement wasn’t just flattery. It was above average in length with a plump cockhead and perfectly flushed pink. Mirio watched as you took a lick from base to tip, and Amajiki warbled beneath your touch. You took his balls in your left hand and played with them.

Amajiki was notoriously neat, so he wasn’t shocked to see his friend had done some manscaping.

“(Y/n)~” he drawled the final syllable as you slowly sucked on his tip. Mirio could see his friend's abs flexing and twisting as he struggled under your mouth. “(Y/n)!” He groaned. Suddenly, he touched your shoulder and pulled off with an almost cartoon pop.

“Why are we stopping? Is it bad?” You added anxiously

“No! No, it’s. He wiped his eyes and tried to collect his thoughts. “It’s really, uhuh, really good. I don’t think I’ll last one second if you keep going.” He wiped his sweaty brow

“Aww,” you gave a downward smile, proud of yourself for being a natural. You started climbing up him again and gave him a long, searing kiss so he could taste his own precum on your lips. You started reaching behind you for the zipper of your skirt, but Tamaki caught your wrist before you could retake the lead.

“I’ll be taking care of that.” He stated as a wave of confidence overtook him. He held under your armpits and spun the both of you around, so he landed with a giggle in the tangle of his blankets. Often, you forget how strong your boyfriend is. Partly because he rarely wore tight or revealing clothing that showed off his sexy, lean muscles. They didn’t exude the confidence typical of people as powerful as him.

As he stood, he tucked himself back into his boxers but shucked off his pants and folded them at the waist before tossing them to the side. You laughed at his continued clean behaviors, and Mirio just enjoyed it. He claimed back over your abdomen to kiss your lips and your forehead.

Sensing his tiredness, Mirio returned his whole body to his bedroom and got some water. He brought his fist toward his chest in victory and recapped some water. He’s seen plenty more than what is appropriate, right? There should be no need to keep snooping? Right?

Mirio checked the lock on his door, relieved that he remembered to lock it while changing. Although it’s not as if everyone in the class hadn’t seen some part of him during training. He took another sip from his water bottle and plunged his head back into his ‘peephole.’

What he saw was miraculous.

Amajiki was laying shooter style between your spread legs. He had his right hand stuffed deep in your cunt, and with his left hand, he was holding yours.

“L-like this (Y/n)?” He sought your guidance and received only a high-pitched sigh

“Yeah! Mhmm,” you attempted to clear your throat to gain some composure. “Yeah, just like that, Ama.” You sighed

“Ok, but how’s the pace, or should I do anything else.”

“Y-you c-could play withhh my clit?” You offered. Mirio was gobsmacked. How did his shy, reserved best friend get his girlfriend to stutter like him?

“O-ok.” he unlocked his fingers from yours and started making gentle circles. He tried to find it, but notoriously, it seemed to be the eighth wonder.

“Um, a little higher, baby,” you took your once-connected hands and guided his left hand up to your clit and hiccuped. You found it, and Tamaki's gentle hands lay you out.

“Like this?” He smiled up at your pinked face

“Yeah, just like that, baby.”

“So this is good?”

“Yeah, hun, this is euuh,. This is really good,” you accidentally interrupted yourself. Jeez, Tamaki, Mirio thought you really needed more confidence.

“You know,” Tamaki jumped at the sound of your voice, “nothing's wrong, babe, just if you wanted, you could use your mouth.”

“D-do you want it?”

“Only if yoUU!” Before you could confirm, he placed his mouth right where his left hand was. The squee you let out emboldened both boys witnessing you. Until now, Mirio had been balancing on his knees and his right hand while his left hand pushed against the wall. Now, his left hand slid down to his navel and slipped under his champion sweatpants. There was a considerable pile of pre that had pooled in his pants, and he thanked his twenty-minute earlier self who had chosen to forgo underwear.

Quickly he was able to grab onto his cock as his gaze was fixed on you, the porno in front of him. Amajikis left hand had vacated your clit as his mouth took the promotion. Instead, he was grasping desperately at one of your boobs, and his right did its best to assault your g-spot.

Evidently, his right hand was doing a good job, and you moaned and writhed beneath your boyfriend's ministrations.

“Fuck baby, keep going,” you looked your leg over his shoulder and locked him closer to your pussy. Mirio started to circle his cockhead with his thumb as he heard your moans pitch up.

You sunk your right hand into his hair, which made Tamaki groan a little. Your left hand flew out to grip a nearby pile of comforter.

“Tama, uhh, I’m so close! Please, whatever you do, don’t stop or change anything.” And he obeyed happily, maybe adding to the intensity only emblazoned by your tenacity. Your other leg wrapped around the side of his ribs as you reached climax. All coherency left him as you came a jumble of Tamaki's names and various moans and squeals.

Mirio gripped his dick a little harder, and you squirmed and relished the first orgasm someone had provided you. Tamaki sat on his knees and wiped his mouth as he admired how wrecked you looked. Your hair was spread in a million directions, and your tank top was ridden up so he could see your belly as it rose and fell. Your skirt was flipped up, and your panties hung off one of your knees. Even your socks seemed to be slipping if your body as your boyfriend devoured the sight of you.

He had watched many a dirty movie, but nothing compared to how sexy you looked right now. Sweating, shaking, and your face was completely red.

Tamaki was doing much better. He, too, was out of breath and slightly damp, but most noticeable was his cock dancing and straining against his navy blue briefs.

“Aww baby, that looks like it hurts,” you reached for his waistband and tugged him so you were both sitting on the bed, “why don’t we take care of you.” You sat his back against the wall and almost tore his boxers off him. You stood up and pulled your camisole over your head, and brandished it to the side. You gave him a smile as his eyes locked onto your breasts. You saw him swallow and, for the show, fanned himself like a lady at church with his hand.

Boldly, you pulled the zipper of your skirt down and let the green pleats free fall, and you stepped out of it. Despite being buried in your pussy just a minute before, the sight of you completely naked and on display for him was golden. His cock stood at attention, painfully awaiting you.

You climbed back onto your boyfriend's and kissed him sweetly to reassure him. His confidence broke briefly as he awaited your insight.

“Here, hold onto my hips.” You place your hand over his and guide them to the fat of your hips. You rose slowly on your knees and used your right hand to guide his cock to your awaiting pussy. You paused right as you made contact.

“Fuck! I forgot condoms!” You put your forehead on his collarbones in defeat.

“That’s okay, baby,” he secured a hand on the small of your back and leaned the two of you forward. He slowly opened the drawer and pulled out a box of condoms, pulling out the roll and ripping one off.

“How did you?”

“After that night, I went out and bought some. I-I had to call Mirio for help.” He admitted, ashamed.

“Aww, baby.” Mirio stopped his hand as he smiled at the memory. It was nine at night when he got the call. It took ten minutes to calm down a very overwhelmed Tamaki and explain that most of the scented or rubbed condoms were not a good choice and that he should go with latex unless he knew you were allergic to latex. You weren’t, so he got some pretty generic-looking lubricated condoms with a little doctor-recommended check. He didn’t make eye contact with the cashier; he only handed her enough cash to pay and grabbed the box before she could give him change.

You both settled back into position and he ripped the foil open with his teeth. Your knees buckled a little at the sight and you helped guide the condom down his dick. As you slid him down your folds you paused right at your pussy and looked in his eyes.

“Mhmmm,” he managed to grit out, and you slowly sunk his head in. Both of you seemed to moan and were keen on the contact. Your hands flew up to grip his shoulders, and he sunk into the small of your waist. Mirio gripped his cock reignited by the double loss of virginity. Slowly you eased down his cock and experimentally brought yourself up and down once. You shuddered in his lap.

Tamaki slid his hands down your waist to your hips, and you picked up the pace, bouncing up and down his lap with more confidence. With his help, you rode him with a passionate curiosity.

Mirio picked up the pace as you two seemed to find a groove. The purple-ette enjoying the sight of you taking him for his pleasure and the satisfying squelch of your pussy around him. Every lift and drop of your hips forces his eyes to shut a little, but every time, he forces them back open to allow himself to soak you in.

You’re not doing much better. Already sensitive from cumming minutes earlier, the excitement of finally getting to fuck Tamaki swirled into a greater pleasure than you could imagine. Unfortunately, it was interrupted by the ghost of cowgirls.

“Ow ow ow!” You settled your hips

“What? What is it, baby?” He clamped his hand on the side of your face.

“Foot cramp.” You shook it and winced

“D-do you wanna switch?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded, and he kept his hold on the side of your face but gave you a gentle peck. Then he slid his hands under your legs and picked you, only to slam you down on the mattress. You bounced and laughed as you held his face for another kiss. You tucked some stray hair out of his face as he guided himself back into your sweet, warm pussy.

You made eye contact as a slight gasp slipped from your mouth. Tamaki leaned over you and placed your arms around his neck. He placed both hands by your ears and started up a slow and gentle pace. Before he realized your eyes were going the same rolling back/ force open pattern.

From this position Amajiki was hitting all the best angles. Mirio thought he was spoiled for getting the pleasure of witnessing this. Every grunt and every sigh even the squeak of the mattress beneath Tamaki’s knees was only fuel for his fist. He brought his hand up to his mouth so he could collect a weight bead of spit which he spread over his throbbing cock. He could feel his balls keening with the need to release but he was trying to time it with the movie he was witnessing.

On your side of the wall was bliss. You kept your arms around his neck but still wove your fingers through the thick hair at his nape. When you gave a particularly strong tug Tamaki crooned into you touch. He moaned a little harder as you tugged on him.

“D’yo like that, Ama?”

“Y-yes,” he managed to plead.

“Y’want me to do it again?”

“Yes-fuck, please!” You were shocked to hear your typically formal boyfriend swear at you. It was hot, so you pulled harder in his gorgeous silky hair. You only pulled more erotic sounds out of his lips, which were coated in a thin layer of saliva from chewing on them.

“Fuck again! I-I’m gonna cum!”

“T-Tama!” You nearly started laughing in surprise at his foul mouth. But the obsessive rhythm of his hips was bringing you closer to the edge again. “Just keep going. I’m ughh,” you groaned against your will as he teased your G-spot.

“Deeper Tama!” You begged. He grabbed each of your ankles at your request and brought them up by his ears. He leaned down on you and landed a searing kiss on your forehead and then brought his pace a little faster, lingering at the depression of his thrust.

“Ahh, right there! Please don’t stop!” But he was sputtering out from exhaustion and being on the precipice of an orgasm

“I can’t- I’m not gonna!” He sounded absolutely pathetic

“It’s fine, baby. Just keep going.”

“Do you want me to pull out?”

“Why would you wear a condom? Inside please” At that, any scrap of reserve fell away as he pounded into you, desperate to cum.

“(Y/n)! Uh, I’m gonna!” He parked his hips deep in your pussy as he came with a whimper. Your eyes rolled so far back that he was nervous; they might not return. As he came to, he felt like he was strangled by your pussy, clamping down and spasming around his cock. You raked your hands down Amajiki's back, desperate to cling onto something for fear you might float away.

If he were to look back on it, Mirio would say that the noises you made as you came sent him hurtling over the edge. In a split-second decision, he permeated his other hand through the wall to bite so he could damper his sounds. He shuddered, and his ear rang after he came. A nasty white matter on the wall was evidence of his Tom peeping.

He pulled himself back through to his room to assess the damage. He would need to change his sweatpants because of a big precum stain on the grey fabric. He laughed at himself and how live-action porn got him so riled up.

“Oh jeez,” he put his clean hand on his forehead. Directly after he had hidden the evidence, a pounding at his door nearly scared him out of his skin.

“Miri! Togata! Why is your door locked?” He zipped over to his door, unlocked it, and gave his girlfriend a kiss on the forehead as she sunk into his chest.

“Long day, baby?” He similarly caged her in

“So long,” she whined

“You want to hear something that will cheer you up?” He pulled back so he could look at her adorable little face

“Always,”

“They finally did it.” He admitted with a downward smile

“YOU SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH!” She leaped back, accidentally activating her quirk

“Yeah, I heard it all.” He smirked proudly. “You wanna go over and bust them?”

“Yeah!” She cheered sharing similar smirks and penchants for mischief. Mirio threw on a t-shirt and they crept next door. Stupidly the couple had forgone locking the door. The two bust through the door to reveal what could have been a sweet wholesome moment.

(Y/n) had her head laid on Tamaki’s chest and Tamaki had an arm over her shoulder and was stroking up and down with his finger tips. But as the couple blew threw Tamaki’s door sending the couple flying up and out of their sheets.

(Y/n) grabbed the nearest blanket and held it to her chest to conserve some of her modesty.

“What are you doing get out!” You screeched in embarrassment while poor Tamaki cowered, mortified.

“Ok ok,” Mirio backed out in surrender “did you kids have fun?”

“Out!’l you hollered. The incident did not stop you by any means from continuing your fun. You just remembered to lock the doors. But no padlock could keep out your neighbor of a peeping tom.

[elfenbensord]

hiya! i’m OBSESSED with your writing btw..

i was wondering whether i could please request smth with george w x fem reader

was thinking something like george (and fred, because we love a secretly supportive brother) have been writing to their mum about how all round great r is and molly just HAS to meet her

(maybe slight hurt/comfort with r having not so nice parents) reader is invited to spend *pick a holiday* at the burrow… chaotic fluff and motherly doting from molly ensues

tysm if you consider this xx

a/n: THANK YOU for choosing to be obsessed with my silly little pieces! also, this request is so wholesome! was a real cozy moment to write this.

pairing: george weasley x fem!reader

warnings: none.

pretty good idea

14.10.23

“Do you really think this is a good idea, Georgie?” you say as you shift your weight from one foot to another. 

George almost melts at the nickname. He most definitely melts at the thought of you caring so much about him, to be nervous about just meeting his family. 

He places a reassuring hand on you shoulder, and lets in travel down to taka your hand in his. Squeezing it tightly, he says, “They will absolutely love you.”

Standing just outside the Burrow, he looks at you with a soft smile.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

He exhales lightly. “I’m just enjoying this moment when I still get to have you all for myself. It will all change in just a sec.”

“It will…” you mumble, not fully managing to shake of the nervous feeling harbouring in your chest.

The worrying wrinkle between your brows is back. “Actually, maybe I should just go–”

The door to the Burrow slams open, revealing a cheery, round-faced woman. 

“There you are!” Mrs. Weasley almost yells. She pulls you in for a hug, squeezing tight. “I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you! George has mentioned you in every letter – every letter – he’s written to me. I thought, if (y/n) is so amazing, I simply have to meet her!”

She continues her chattering as she pulls you inside. Inside is bubbling with activity and chatter and light and laughter. It’s overwhelming at first, your own family always keeping a respectful distance and somewhat cold aura. But this warmth, this obvious love, welcomes you and pulls you in.

“Hey, (y/n)!” Fred approaches you, reaching his hand up for a high-five. 

You hesitantly comply, saying, “Hi Fred.”

He smiles lightly. “I see you survived mum.”

You smile, still feeling the warmth and welcoming aura of Molly Weasley. “She’s really sweet.”

He snorts, saying in a sarcastic tone. “Yeah, yeah. Just you wait til she starts knitting you socks for Christmas!”

You can’t help but smile at the thought. “They would be my most loved socks of all.”

—

After dinner, you end up in the small living room. Ginny and Fred are busy playing a cardgame. Mr and Mrs Weasley make low conversation in the kitchen, the radio buzzing with some cheesy song about “Love is a strange kind of magic…”

George pulls you closer, almost pulling you into his lap. Sitting in the worn-out couch, you can feel his breath on your ear. He’s warm and wonderful, his knitted sweater slightly scratching on you exposed neck. You relax into him, smiling contentedly.

“I told you they would love you. Just like I do.” George cuddles his freckled nose into your ear. It tickles ever so slightly.

You hum. “I love you too.”

Fred throws a candy wrapper across the room, hitting George in the back of the head. “Stop being gross!”

“You’re just jealous, since you don’t have the balls to ask out Angelina!”

Fred’s ears turn red, starting to match his hair. “Shut up, I’m working on it.”

“Oh, yeah? Work a little harder then!” George bites back.

He turns his attention to you, softening instantly. Pulling ha loose strand of hair and toying with it between his fingers, he almost whispers, “You still think it was a bad idea?”

You lean into him. “Hmm. No. Pretty good idea, actually.”

“Yeah. Pretty good.”

[samandcolbyownme]

we've seen johnnie choking reader with his chain, what about the other way around

This one shot is going to contain a sexual scene of being choked with a chain necklace, PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THAT.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, CHOKING w/a metal chain necklace, slightly dominant!reader, slightly sub!Johnnie, hair pulling, scratching, oral (both), unprotected sex, creampie, filth

Word count: 1.6k | unedited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

As you filled your fifth glass of wine, you heard the door open and close, followed by the sound of footsteps shuffling towards the kitchen.

“Oh, hey baby. Didn’t know you’d be up.” Johnnie walks over, his hand pressing to your hip as he greets you with a kiss to the cheek, “Sorry. Jake wouldn’t stop talking to people.”

“It’s okay.” You smile up at him, “I may have almost finished off that new bottle of wine.”

Johnnie glances over, picking up the empty bottle, “Baby. This bottle is empty.”

“Okay.” You sigh, unable to control your giggling, “Maybe I finished it.”

He laughs as he sets down the bottle, “So, what you’re telling me is that you’re in a fantastic mood.” He smirks at you and your eyes fixate on the metal chain around his neck, “You wore that out?”

You walk over as he looks down at his chest and he watches as you pick up the metal chain. He smirks, licking his lips, “Everytime I see I think of how fucking hot you look with it around your neck.”

You feel your cheeks grow warm, “Johnnie.”

“What?” He dips his head down, “Tell me. There’s something on that pretty little mind of yours.”

You look at him, closing the space between your lips and his hands grip your waist, walking you back towards the counter.

He lifts you up, setting you down as he moves between your knees. Your hand is currently wrapping the chain around your hand, slowly winding it up until your fingers brush his neck, “I want to do it to you.”

He swallows and you loosen the chain, “Only if you want to, baby.” He shakes his head, “You really are a freak.”

His lips crash back onto yours and his words are muffled, “Go ahead, sweetheart.”

You understood, slowly tightening the chain around his neck. You pause the kissing waiting for any kind of reaction from him but he just pulls you into him, lips on yours, “I need you naked for this.”

He pulls you down off of the counter and you keep a loose hold on the chain, leading him to the bedroom. You look back at him, smirking as you bite your lip and walk backwards through the doorway.

Johnnie groans, kicking the door shut behind him, “You’re killing me.” He reaches out for you waist but you put a hand on his chest, “It’s my turn, J.”

This was really getting to Johnnie, the chain, the choking, seeing you in control this time.

“Fuck, anything you say.” He nods and walks over and you turn, “But-“

“Keep the chain on. I know, baby.” He smirks at you as he slips his shirt off, his eyes on you as he waits for you to get rid of the nightgown you put on just for him.

You reach down, eyes on his as you bunch up the skirt part and pull it up over your head, leaving you completely naked for him.

“Fuck, you are so beautiful.” His eyes move up and down his body as he discards the rest of his clothes to the floor and lays on the bed.

You walk over, lip pulled between your teeth as you climb onto the bed. Johnnie he reaches up, his thumb untucking your lip, “Let me do that.”

He slides his hand to the side of your neck and into hair as you lean down to kiss him. You moan out, clenching around nothing as he slowly bites down onto your lip.

Your left hand moves down his body and your right up moves up to grab the chain that’s lying on his chest, “Do you trust me?”

Johnnie nods, “Of course I trust you, baby.” He pulls you in for another kiss and sighs as he pulls his head away, “Just don’t let Jake know about this. I’ll never be able to go to Hot Topic with him again.”

You laugh, nodding your head, “I won’t do it as hard as you do it to me.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He smirks and you smiles before leaning in to kiss down his neck as you wrap your hand around his cock.

He gasps as your touch, moaning when you start to stroke slowly, “Just tell me if it gets to be too much, m’kay?” You kiss back down his neck as he nods, moaning out a little louder when your grip on his cock tightens.

You sit up, glancing down at your hand before looking back up. Johnnie’s chest rises and falls fast, both with pleasure and anticipation.

You wrap the chain around your hand, slowly tightening it against his neck as the speed of your other hand picks up.

Johnnie gasps, groaning out as he bucks his hips. His arm is wrapped around your waist, gripping the flesh of your him while he balls up the blanket beneath him with the other, “Fuck, baby.”

You lean in to whisper into his ear, “Say please.”

He bucks his hips, gasping as you squeeze, “Please baby.”

You let go of the chain, turning your ass towards him as you lean down to lick a stripe up his cock. He groans, gripping your thigh with his hand, “Just.. sit on my face.”

Not pulling away from his cock, you swing your leg over his head and plant your knee next to it, moaning out as he pulls you down right away and sucks your clit.

You moan around him, rolling your hips as your eyes roll back. You pull away, taking a breath and moaning loudly before pushing your head down onto him, gagging slightly around him.

“Fuck.” He groans, earning another gag from you as he bucks his hips once more, “I need you.” He breathes out as he squeezes your leg, “Please, baby.”

You spin around, wiping the spit from your chin on your wrist, “What do you want, J? Hmm.” You straddle his lap as you wrap the chain around your hand.

You tighten it once more, but this time you do it a little harder.

You were nervous, but at the same time, you’ll do whatever Johnnie wanted, and vice versa.

He gasps out, lips parting as his eyes roll closed. You raise your brows, pussy clenching at the sight below you, “Johnnie.” You whine, “You’re so hot.”

You lean down, crashing your lips onto his. You reach down, slipping his cock into you and you both gasp, breaking the kiss as you sink down all the way onto him.

“Oh my god, Johnnie.” You moan out, forehead resting on his, “You feel so good.” You pull the chain up as he leans up to kiss you, twisting it tight against his neck.

He groans as you move your hips, slowly rolling them forward and back before getting into a steady bouncing rhythm.

“Baby.” Johnnie groans out, hand moving up to grip your hip, “You can tighten it.”

You nod, tighting the chain as you continue bouncing in his cock, moaning at the sight of the pleasure on his face, “Does it feel good, baby?”

“So fucking good.” He whispers out, “Fuckin’ love this pussy.” He slowly slides a hand up your back, dragging it down your arm that holding the chain.

His grip tightens around your wrist and he pushes your hand down to pin on the bed, gasping at the sudden tightness from the chain.

“Fuck Johnnie, I’m so close.” You whimper out, grinding your hips down onto his as your eyes stay glued to his face, moaning out loudly as you cum.

You dig your nails into his chest, using him to guide yourself through your high, “You make me feel so good.” You whisper as you loosen the chain, “So fucking good.”

Johnnie rolls you over, kisses up between your boobs as he reinserts his cock. You let out a moan, arching your back as your hand grasps onto the chain.

“Go ahead.” Johnnie whispers, lifting his head, “I love when you do it to me.”

You reach around, grabbing the chain and pulling it up from the back of his neck. You tighten it, hand resting on the side of his neck.

He moans, his thrusts growing sloppier by the minute, “Where do you want me?” He asks lowly and you shrug, tightening the chain, “Where ever you want, baby.”

He groans at your words, moving his head down when you pull him in for a kiss. His hips stutter and you feel his cock twitch inside of you, which earns a moan from you - it’s hot when he does it.

You let go of the chain, letting it dangle and lay on your chest, “Are you okay? I di-“

Johnnie cuts you off as he pulls out and lays next to you, “You were perfect.” He leans over, pecking your cheek as he takes your hand in his, “Is that why you drank a whole bottle of wine?”

“Yeah, I needed the confidence boost to ask you.” You laugh, “I didn’t think you’d say no, but then again. You never know.”

He pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you, “No, my love. I am indeed a freak just like you.”

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

I wrote this in one sitting. I hope you enjoyed. Thank you for reading, I love you so much! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[julesthequirky]

The Choice: Chapter Five

All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.

Summary: You find three of your favourite characters in your home. It shouldn’t be possible, but there they are. In the flesh. How the hell did they get there? And surely there’s a way to get them back? But as you get close to each one, the thought of sending them back proves difficult to comprehend.

Characters/Pairings: Fem!Reader, Dean, Beau and Ben (Soldier Boy)

Warnings: Language, typical Soldier Boy behaviour.

W/C: 1,776

The smell of coffee enticed you as you were nudged awake. Opening your eyes, you saw Dean standing over you, a steaming mug in hand, wearing a bemused expression. From where he stood, you had slid down the couch arm in the night, legs akimbo, sticking out over the other couch arm, the fluffy socks a reason for his bemusement.

You must’ve slept at a funny angle cause your neck felt stiff as Hell. You struggled to sit up but managed, shifting the blanket so Dean could sit if he wanted to. You swiped a hand down your face, knuckles rubbing the sleep out of your eyes until you saw stars.

“Captain America, boot you out or something?”

You shook your head and accepted the mug from him.

“Ben snores like a Mack truck.”

“Ahh.”

He sat beside you, wearing the clothes he came in, minus his jacket.

“Well, Beau’s in the kitchen cooking up a storm. Hope you don’t mind. I saw you had a coffee maker. Hell, I’m surprised you didn’t wake up after all the noise it made. I was convinced you would. Beau checked on you, too. Said you were still sound asleep.” He chuckled lightly and waited expectantly.

Figures. You could sleep through a noisy coffee machine, but not Ben’s snoring.

You stared at the mug in your hands. God, it smelled so good. He reminded you of a kid who just wanted to impress their parents. He held the same energy. A pent-up kind of excitement. You brought the mug to your lips and sipped.

Holy fuck.

That was the best coffee you’ve ever tasted. Not too sweet, not too bitter and heated to perfection. Your tastebuds rejoiced in the flavour.

“Oh, shit.” You whispered.

“Good, right?”

He looked so proud of himself, so happy. And he had a right to be. You savoured the taste, closing your eyes. You’d tried with that coffee maker, but whoever designed it had made it as complicated as possible. You’d given up, pushing it to the back of the cupboard, leaving it to gather dust. You’d forgotten about it, lying to your then mother-in-law, who had gifted it to you and your husband as a wedding gift.

“Well, I’ll let you—yep.”

He slapped his thighs, stood up and left you alone with your coffee.

The warmth from the mug seeped to your core. Your ankles ached from exposure to the cold, and your back twinged from sleeping on the couch, but the coffee made up for it.

You heard Dean and Beau’s deep tones and laughter from the kitchen. Whatever Beau was doing, it smelt good. And it seemed that Dean and Beau were getting along. You could only hope that Ben would join their camaraderie.

Heavy footsteps thudded downstairs, pulling you from your thoughts, stopping you from checking on the two men in the kitchen.

Ben emerged wearing only his boxers. How did he manage to still look so good? His hair wasn’t exactly flawless, but it looked better than yours. Yours resembled a bird’s nest, but his made him look even sexier. It wasn’t fair, and it had you thinking. What would he look like after sex?

“You look like shit, y’know that?”

He sauntered in and took the seat beside you. He noted the mug in your hands and brazenly took it, downing the contents as you stared at him in shock.

“Fuck. That’s some good coffee, sweetcheeks.”

The audacity of this man was something else. And it only got worse. He handed back the empty mug and stood. He scratched his balls right in your eyesight, stretched, then tapped your knee.

“C’mon, getchur ass in the kitchen, I’m starvin’.”

All you could do was sit and stare at him, mug almost hanging from your hand. You blinked.

“Doll, if you don’t close your mouth, I’ll put it to good use.”

You clamped your mouth shut. Your brows bunched together in irritation, and you stood.

“Don’t talk to me like that. And you owe me a coffee.”

You barged past him, purposefully bumping into his arm on your way to the kitchen.

“Hey!” He barked.

You opened the kitchen door. Beau was at the stove, and Dean sat at your table, mug in hand.

“Hey! Don’t walk away from me, lady!”

A hand gripped your arm, swinging you around to face Ben. A chair scraped behind you.

“Hey, why don’t you cool it and step away, Marlboro Man?”

 “Fuck you, lumberjack.”

“Hey, hey!”

Beau’s deep shout reverberated around the room. You turned to see Beau standing at the stove, apron on, and wielding a spatula.

“Enough of the language, it’s too damn early to be fighting and yelling. Now let go of our host’s arm and put some damn clothes on.”

That shut him up. And you. And Dean. Ben let go of your arm and stormed away, back down the short hallway leading to the stairs. He disappeared up them.

You rubbed your arm and sat down, placing the empty mug on the table. Dean huffed, and you heard him mumble, “Ain’t no lumberjack…”

He sat pouting like a little kid. It was kinda cute, and your heart twinged. How could a grown-ass man make you feel like this? You wanted to put your arms around him and comfort him.

Then, as you were sitting there, it occurred to you that you hadn’t had a chance to tell them your name due to last night’s craziness. The thought never even occurred.

“I should probably tell you my name, huh?”

Dean snorted, instantly perking up.

“That would be nice. Finally, put a name to a face since you know ours.”

Dean gave you one of his award-winning grins, along with a cheeky wink. Then he downed the rest of his coffee and placed the mug on the side.

“I should probably wait until Ben’s back down, right?”

“Why? You don’t know how long he’s gonna be. How do you like your eggs?” Beau inquired.

“Scrambled. Please.” You added the pleasantry, remembering that he was the guest. “You didn’t have to do this, y’know.”

“Oh, I know, darlin’. Force o’ habit, I suppose. And Dean here was figuring out the coffee machine.” Beau said over his shoulder as he cracked a few eggs and whisked them in a bowl.

“Thing had a ton of dust, like, covered.”

“I couldn’t figure it out.” You admitted.

“Well, I’ll show you sometime…uh.”

“Y/N.” You finished for him.

“Y/N.”

The soft timbre of his voice gave your belly flutters. Oh, you could definitely get used to hearing your name slip from his lips, addicted even.

After a short wait, Beau placed a plate of bacon, scrambled eggs, and pancakes in front of you, setting your cutlery beside the plate. Holy Hell. Everything looked perfect. Dean rubbed his hands together in glee when Beau placed his plate down. He didn’t take a second to dive in, and then make his approval known. His moan shot down to your core, and your eyes fluttered in shock. It was too damn early. He couldn’t be making you feel this way. Shouldn’t, even.

“Damn, this…. this is…. mmmm.” Dean took another bite, not bothering to finish his thoughts.

You took your cue. The first forkful blew away your mind and tastebuds. And the sound that came from your lips rivalled Dean’s. Both Dean and Beau stopped to stare at you.

“Sorry…but damn…Beau…it’s so good.”

His cheeks turned pink, and he turned around to hide. You heard the spatula scraping against the pan as two more plates were made.

*

Dean, Beau, and Ben congregated in the living room, with you standing before them. Dean wanted to get started on the frames box, deciphering whatever was inscribed. But you had to make a food run and get these boys some clothes besides what they already wore. And as much as you loved them, there was no way in Hell you were letting them stay whilst you went out.

“Okay, if anybody asks, you’re brothers. Triplets, even. Last name, Smith.”

Ben snorted. “Ain’t no one gonna believe that, dollface.”

“And why not?” You demanded, already done with Ben’s antics today. “It’s totally plausible. You three look more like triplets than the set down the road.”

You put your hand to your head. Frustration bunched your muscles and had your jaw tensing.

“Just…get in the damn car.”

You stomped off, snatching the keys off the hook on the wall. You toed your sneakers on and grabbed the bags from the porch. From inside, you heard Dean reprimanding Ben.

“Why you gotta purposely annoy Y/N for? She’s tired, and you irritating her ain’t helping.”

You yawned, stretching your aching shoulders and neck whilst the guys traipsed out. Yanking on the handle, you stepped into the drivers seat. Your car was nothing special, a standard SUV. It was a couple years old, and the odometer was getting upwards of fifty thousand miles.

You rested your forehead on the steering wheel. Dean’s coffee and Beau’s breakfast had sustained you, but it seemed not enough for the task ahead.

“I call shotgun,” Beau exclaimed as he exited your house.

“The fuck you do!” Ben barked out.

“Alright, there’s a simple solution to this. Rock, paper, scissors. Winner gets the seat.” Dean reasoned.

From your wing mirror, you saw Dean pull the door handle up, successfully locking the door. Then they stood in a circle, and Dean declared on three they reveal. You could only make out Dean’s back and Beau’s side profile. His hair ruffled in the breeze as they stood and played their game.

Ben shouted out, calling bullshit, and stormed off.

The car door opened a moment later, slamming shut as Ben sat in the back. His jaw ticked, obviously stewing from the loss. You couldn’t help but smile. A light chuckle escaping your lips.

“The fuck you laughing at?”

You shrugged.

“Why didn’t you just sit in the passenger seat? What they gonna do? Drag you out?”

Ben furrowed his brow. He snorted and shook his head.

“Never damn occurred to me.”

Now you snorted. Figures. But it was too late now. Your passenger side door opened, and Beau heaved himself in beside you. Dean sat beside Ben. 

“Nothing like a good game of rock, paper, scissors.” Beau grinned as he buckled himself in.

“That’s cause you won.” Ben sulked.

“Aw, come on now, don’t be a Debby downer, just cause you lost. Fair and square. You picked rock, and Dean and I chose paper. Them’s the rules.”

“Still bullshit.” Ben mumbled, sulking in his seat, as you started the engine.

Tags:

@curlycarley, @angelbabyyy99, @sassy-pelican, @k-slla, @deans-spinster-witch

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hit ‘Em Up! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen PT I & PT II. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Epilogue. Soundtrack.

********

TWO: G & G.

You know that there are those in the world who strike fear into people’s hearts and souls.

But you’ve never seen anyone react to a single human being the way they do the duo that struts into the bar in their leather cowboy boots. 

You’ve never seen the saloon so quiet and still before then when the duo steps into the scene. A tumbleweed could blow by with how silent it is.

Everyone’s eyes stay planted on the tall, handsome men oozing with confidence and intimidation standing among the swinging doors, appearing like sexy phantoms in the night.

There stands Geto Suguru, the 6’4 long-haired gunslinger with the perfect, black locks that cascade down his broad shoulders and back, seductive eyes, and skillful hands that he hides behind two riding gloves.

He usually is seen riding a black Bronco that is just as big as him and sporting a black cape with black riding pants, boots, and a low-brim cowboy hat. Black fits him so damn well. The only thing that isn’t black on him is the red vest that is so low-cut that you can see the outline of his pecs. 

Beside him is his partner (and lover as it’s rumored) Gojo Satoru, the lean, confident, cocky, blindfolded bandit standing at 6’3 with snow-white hair, a sly smile, leather gloves that hide some skillful and deadly hands, and a blindfold covering his eyes that have never been seen but are said to make a man go cold with fear where he stands.

In contrast to Geto, the white-haired cowboy is doused in colors: a denim jacket that matches his slacks where a star-shaped belt buckle hangs from his crotch; brown boots with spurs; a red bandana wrapped around his neck; and a white cowboy hat sits low on his head. He, too, has his own horse: a brown Bronco that is recognizable from its hooves clicking across the ground.  

They are a match made in heaven and hell. Handsome, skillful, and deadly. They are known for their impressive yet terrifying speed when it comes to cocking and shooting their pistols. You’ve heard of them killing all kinds of wanted criminals and even other gunslingers in other counties.

Everyone knows them and so do you. 

If a record was playing, the damn thing would be scratching by now with the way the saloon reacts to seeing the gunslingers in the flesh. Whispers begin to rise from the silence, including from Yuki, Mai, and Maki who have wandered over. “Oh, my God,” Mai gasps. “It’s the Gunslingers!” 

“What the hell are they doin’ here?” Maki wonders aloud, peering at them from behind her spectacles. “Are they lookin’ for someone? I thought they had been arrested!” 

And they did, last year. At some point, the articles of gunslingers, corporation owners, and high rollers found dead with bullets in them and a note from “G & G” left at the scene stopped when they were arrested after that train heist. And you know it has everything to do with their connection to your boss. 

“Who cares?” Yuki dreamily sighs as she stares at the gunslingers with heart eyes. “I get to admire them in person now! Aren’t they delicious?” 

“Keep it in your pants, Yuki,” Choso grumbles, tugging on a lock of the blonde’s hair as she giggles. “They ain’t even all that.” 

“Of course not,” Yuki purrs, making Choso blush. “Not above you, Chosi, but a cowboy hat would do you so well!”

Even you will admit that the “wanted dead or alive” posters don’t do them justice: they are fine as all hell, straight out of a woman’s wet dreams. But they are also outlaws. And you despise outlaws…for personal reasons. 

The duo begins to look around the silent saloon, Gojo’s head slowly turning despite his blindfold. When his head turns toward you, you feel as if the air has been stolen from your very lungs. Despite the fabric covering his eyes, you feel as if he sees you. All of you. 

Gojo nudges Geto with his elbow before waltzing over to the bar, his boots thudding across the hardwood floor. Geto follows, ignoring the whispers and stares in their wake. The piano has begun to pick up again, but it does nothing to ease the tension swimming in the air. Quickly, you turn to face your drink while the girls scatter to work, leaving you to fend for yourself. 

Geto sits on the stool beside you while Gojo takes the one beside him. You feel the air around you become stiff and tense as the cowboys settle into their seats. “So what’s a cowboy gotta do to get a drink round here?” Gojo asks with a smirk. “Can ya help a guy out, miss?”

He gives Shoko a flirty look, not knowing that this girl is gay as hell. “I could damn sure try,” she replies, barely giving him a smile. “What will you fellas have?” 

“I’ll take a Long Island iced tea,” Gojo says then laughs. “Just kiddin’! A beer, please.”

Geto takes a moment to examine the shelves of alcohol behind Shoko. He then looks at your pretty drink. “I’ll take what the lady is havin’,” he answers. “Actually, what is that you got there, miss?” 

His dark, enchanting eyes meet yours and you ignore the butterflies they invoke inside of you. “Whiskey smash,” you blandly reply.

He hums thoughtfully at the name. “Hm…is it good?” You tick your eyes at him briefly, secretly admiring his features. “If you like your whiskey with some sweetness to it, sure.”

A slow smirk appears on his face. “Oh, I definitely do,” he drawls. “I like sweetness with my everything.” 

You swallow hard, so sure you have a cherry pit in your throat. Gojo chuckles from beside his partner, flashing you a white-toothed smile. “Oooh, me too. I’ll third that order, ma’am!” Shoko nods and shoots you a look before wandering off to fix the drinks. 

You do your best to keep calm and act normal, sipping your drink and trying to relax. At some point, the silence becomes thicker, prompting one of the gunslingers to speak on it. “Welcomin’ place,” Gojo sniggers. “I feel so at home.”

Geto quietly chuckles from between you and Gojo. “Let’s just settle, Satoru. We won’t be here long.” 

‘Settle what?’ you wonder, but you know that they are here for Kento. Shoko comes back with the frothy, red drinks, lowering them in front of the gunslingers. 

“Thank you kindly,” Gojo chirps before taking a sip. Geto nods his thanks but doesn’t drink his right away. Instead, he goes into his pocket and retrieves a folded piece of paper. He unfolds it and slides it across the bar to Shoko. “I don’t suppose you know who this guy is,” he says. 

You peek down at the paper, finding it to be a “Wanted” poster with your BF and boss looking back at you. Kenzo aka “Valentine” looks much different than when you met him. On the poster, he is clean and shaven, has longer, shaggier hair, and has a distinguished scar on his left eye.

But of course, this is the gunslinger who robbed people blind and just pulled a train heist and massacre in the town of Cherrywood a year before with his crew, Geto, and Gojo. The man who takes his place now is Kenzo, a humble saloon owner who sometimes dabbles in illegal activity to fund his saloon.  

Valentine, a criminal on the lamb and your outlaw boyfriend, is known for using his looks, charm, and violence to get what he wants. He is a man who loves money, women, and jewels. As a notorious criminal and outlaw, he has bounced from place to place, county to county, robbing folks and then laying low before starting again. 

He was arrested for robbing the Cherrywood regional train and having his crew massacre all of its employees and riders before you met him. Originally, he was given a fifty-year sentence but escaped after serving five weeks just by seducing a male prison guard and then knocking him out to steal the cell keys. 

You were hot on his trails when he showed up Blackwater a year later and met you in a whorehouse that you purposely took a job in since he frequented those. He took one look at you and immediately fell in love with you (and your body), proposing you a job at his saloon. “You could be mine,” he told you. “My girl.” You agreed and the rest is history. 

“I’ve heard of him, yes,” Shoko replies as she cleans a glass. 

“Is it possible you’ve seen him around?” Geto ponders aloud. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but he escaped Cherrywood a year ago after robbin’ a train and massacrin’ everyone in it. He’s wanted in about nine different counties.”

Shoko takes another brief look at the poster before someone flags her down from down at the bar. Saved by the bell. “I can’t say I have seen him, fellas,” she apologetically says. “‘Scuse me.” 

She hurries off, leaving you with the two cowboys. “How about you, ma’am?” Geto asks, passing the poster to you. “You recognize this face by any chance?” You look down, studying Valentine’s face.

You have, but first, you need to read these guys. “I’ve seen him in the posters, but not in person. May I ask why you two are here?” 

You keep it casual and curious, making sure you don’t sound too suspicious. “We were paid by a private source to track down Valentine for his crimes,” Geto vaguely explains. 

“And for personal business,” Gojo adds with a smirk. “You see, we were in, uh…business with Valentine some time ago and never got our cut.”

He doesn’t need to go any more into detail than that. You know exactly what he’s talking about. “We don’t like bein’ played with,” he says, his voice dipping an octave, sending a chill down your spine. “Or when someone’s money is funny, so we came here to exchange words with him.” 

‘Words or bullet?’ you want to ask, but you instead bite your tongue and sip your drink. 

“We’ve been told he was last seen in this town,” Geto explains. “We figured everyone comes to saloons so why not check here?” He slides the poster away from you, a kind yet flirty smile crossing his beautiful face. “But even if he isn’t, we can still enjoy a drink with a pretty lady.” 

You roll your eyes, having heard that line before. “Does that line work with all the girls?” you scoff. Gojo coughs up his whiskey as he laughs, but Geto doesn’t take it to heart. In fact, he chuckles.  “I see not with you,” he replies. 

“I like that,” Gojo states once he’s recovered, his blindfolded eyes set dead on you. “You’ve gotta be the first person who isn’t scared of us or tryin’ to jump in bed with us.”

You passively shrug, twirling your tongue around the rim of the glass. “I’ve been around gunslingers in my time.” 

At this, the duo share a look unbeknownst to you, quite interested in the pretty thing sitting with them at the bar. “Oh, really?” Gojo drawls and you realize your mistake. “Any of these encounters you’d care to share, little lady? I’m quite interested.”

Geto nods, his gaze like molten fire. “I am too.” 

You suddenly feel your mouth grow dry and your cheeks become hot. Your body reacts in a way it never has with any man you’ve been with, not even your first love! The way they continue to stare at you, giving you their undivided and unwanted attention, is even worse.

What is wrong with you?

Luckily, your boss comes to the rescue, barreling up to the bar like he wasn’t watching the duo from afar and shaking in his boots. 

“Oh, gentlemen!” he shouts, giving them both a hard, eager handshake. “Welcome, welcome! Can I offer you two another drink or a dance free of charge?”

Gojo ignores him like he isn’t even talking, leaving Geto to handle this. “Thanks, but no thanks,” he says, plastering on a kind smile. “We’re here for some information about him.” 

He passes Kenzo the poster and you watch in real time as the color in your boyfriend’s face drains. “Have you seen this guy anywhere?” Geto asks, squinting at him.

Gojo peers at him from under his hat, his stare intense even with the blindfold covering his eyes. Kenzo clears his throat and leans in to whisper to Geto. You pretend to ignore them though you secretly strain to hear. “Let’s talk in private,” he whispers. “Even the walls have ears, I’m afraid.” 

Geto nods and nudges to Gojo who sighs and downs the rest of his drink. To your shock, Geto puts a hand out to you for a shake. Though hesitantly, you take his hand and feel the room grow hotter than a sauna when he places a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “It was a pleasure meetin’ you, ma’am,” he softly says. “Hopefully, we’ll cross paths again.” 

His eyes gleam as he tips his hat at you, leaving Gojo to follow Kenzo upstairs. Gojo doesn’t follow right away, instead digging into his pocket for some coins and placing them on the bar in front of you. “For your drinks and yours,” he says with a crooked smile. “Have a good night, little miss.” 

Then, just like Geto, he leaves as if he didn’t just steal the air you breathe with it. It takes a moment to get your head back, but once you do, you down the rest of your drink and get up from your seat. Shoko catches your eye and gives you a look, her eyes telling you a message: 

“Don’t get caught,” she warns you. “And don’t get killed.” 

You nod, blowing her a kiss, before following your boss and the duo upstairs.