#but like look at how expressive she is talking with her hands and shit

[solangelotus]

she's thunderstorms

luke castellan x reader (MDNI!)

and sit a little closer

summary: expressing your frustrations to silena and clarisse after a fling leads someone to your bed

word count: 4k

warnings: zeus!reader, implied smut with a different character, making out scene, clarisse x silena, plus size reader, teensy bit of angst from loser luke

author’s note: we’re back! this is a prequel post to my original post here <3 if you take a peek at the masterlist, it will have a list of parts and when everything should be published!

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

masterlist | series masterlist

skipping stones across the camp lake wasn’t how you imagined spending your friday evening. your stomach growls but it’s dull compared to the empty ache that fills your chest.

“why are you here alone?” you hear someone question. the voice was light, full of warmth, and melodic, and all signs pointed to it belonging to your best friend, silena beauregard. her rosy, cherub cheeks widen with a smile as you turn to look at her. her hand is enveloped by her girlfriend, clarisse la rue. you give them a half-hearted smile, and sit down on the edge of the dock, waiting for them to join them. “you skipped dinner. luke figured we would find you here.”

“i’m shocked he didn’t come with the both of you.”

“so, why are you out here alone?” clarisse questions, grabbing a stone from your hand and throwing it into the water. you give her an exasperated look and she grins in a way you can only describe as shit-eating. she always steals your rocks from you and purposefully fails at skipping them.

you look at them, their joined hands, and think of all their sneaked touches. of their love that everyone can see. it’s something that isn’t for you, something just as forbidden as your existence. you shrug and break your silence, “bad hookup.”

“again? seriously? you should really let me pick them out.”

“silena!” you scold, “the sex wasn’t the worst i have ever had. i just don’t want a relationship, and i thought i made that clear. that’s why i’m upset.”

“yeah, yeah,” she lets go of her girlfriend’s hand to wave you off. clarisse grabs her hand and pulls it down in between them. the daughter of aphrodite is always nothing but supportive, however, she does fail to understand your motivations. her whole existence is based on love, she was created out of the purest love and is full of it. she is full of beauty and often misses out on understanding that the less beautiful parts of life, like how intimacy without love, can be just as wonderful.

“lena, don’t be mean.”

“i’m not! i just don’t understand not wanting romance.”

“it was sherman yang,” you confess and stand to your feet. they both look horrified as you slowly walk backward from them, but you’re not sure you can blame them.

“my brother?!”

“sorry, clarisse,” you laugh and turn to go towards the campfire. you enjoyed your alone time, but you knew the two girls would enjoy it far more together on the dock. “i’ll see you both at the campfire?”

clarisse still looks as though she’s processing the information you dumped on her, meanwhile, silena bites her lip to hide a sheepish grin. “i think we might stay here for a bit.”

“i figured as much,” you say with a wink. clarisse wraps her arm around her girlfriend and leans in closer, but you begin your walk towards the campfire. voices bounce around the woods when you near it, and a grin plays at your lips as you see the campers dancing around and belting at the top of their lungs.

chris drones on about something clarisse did to him during combat lessons as luke stares at the tree line. your two friends went to talk to you, but deep down he hopes you will come join him at the fire. an uneaten s’more rests on a napkin in his hand. just as he decides that he could take it to your cabin later, he notices an outline at the base of the forest. chris punches his arm hard enough to throw the dessert from his palm to the dirt. “dude, you’re not even listening.”

“sorry,” luke mutters and rubs his arm. chris’s eyes search for what his brother had been staring at and when they land on you, he almost feels bad for the sweet food now on the ground. almost.

“i heard something about y/n today.”

“what?!”

“sherman was going on and on about how they hooked up and how he’s in love with them. it was annoying,” chris explains and luke’s sure he misheard. that or he was about to lose his own eaten s’more to the dirt in front of him too. “i just know you like them so i wanted you to hear about it.”

“i do not!”

“yes, you do.”

“no way,” luke tries to convince his brother but it’s a lost cause. chris knows all about the feelings he harbors for you, and his knowledge is only proven further when you approach luke from behind. you wrap your arms around his neck and lean in to rest your face beside his. “h-hi.”

“hey,” you whisper, and he feels his whole face heat up. your lips were so close they were practically brushing against his ear. a smirk plays on your lips as you turn your head to look at the other son of hermes. “hey, chris.”

“hey, y/n. luke had a s’more for you but i punched him and it ended up on the ground.”

“what?” you question in disbelief as you squeeze between the two boys. a grassy, charred marshmallow beside two chocolate-covered graham crackers catches your eyes and you glare at chris. “go make me a new one.”

“why?”

“i swear to the gods that i will interrupt lee’s beautiful song right now just to ask him to put a rhyming curse on you. again.”

“no, you won’t,” chris scoffs, but you stand and kick the pieces of the discarded s’more into the fire before making your way toward lee. when you open your mouth – presumably to yell – chris shoots up and yanks your arm back so you can’t keep walking. “i’ll make you one now!”

other campers take notice of chris’s yells and his sulking on his way to the table where the supplies lay. a chorus of giggles sounds throughout the large group, and you even catch a wide smile on lee’s face as he puts the pieces together. you return to your spot on the fallen tree log and rest your head on luke’s shoulder. “you feeling better, stormy?”

“i was fine, just a little off all day. i will be better once chris replaces my one chance at food for tonight.”

“why did you skip dinner?”

“just needed space to think,” you answer him in full honesty. hookups were fun for you. control was something you lacked in your life thanks to your divinity and parentage; control within yourself was so easy when it came to sex. your body was your own, your actions were calculated, and you could choose who and how someone could make you feel. pleasure was something entirely you, something mortals could attain too. it was something out of the fates and prophecies' control, which only made you love it more. 

something you couldn’t control was the other person though. you tried your hardest to be open and honest about it; relationships aren't for you. they never would be. they never could be. yet, much like sherman, the other person always wanted more than you could give. you lift your head from luke’s shoulder and give him a small smile. the firelight dances beautifully on his deep, brown eyes. there was something about the color that you found easy to get lost in. a color that reminded you of the earth, of something so simple and yet vital to existing. you were sure luke was something vital to your existence.   “i’ll be okay.”

he inspects your face and slowly rakes his eyes down your form. you put him in a trance. the curve of your jaw, your smaller hands, your thighs that press against him while you sit side by side, and the crinkles beside your eyes as you laugh at the song lee chooses to sing next – he fails to find something about you to focus on. dwindling you down to a singular feature feels pointless; you are anything but simple. he swears there’s nothing more ethereal than you, but especially today.

you had driven him crazy since he caught his first glimpse of you earlier in the day. your baggy, low-rise shorts, and cropped paramore tour shirt left little of your body to his imagination. he had seen you in bikinis many times before, even in less clothing than what you had on at the moment. but the shirt was from the first concert you went together to, and it ended just above your belly button. your belly hung slightly over the waist of your denim shorts as you sat; he thought he might start drooling. “do you want to talk about it?”

millions of thoughts run through your mind as you notice the way he blatantly stares at your chest. you look down at your chest to make sure there isn’t a stain on your shirt, and your brows furrow in confusion as you realize there’s not. what was he staring at? you look up at him and his eyes are looking directly into yours now, “are you okay?”

“peachy,” he says, turning his head to look at the fire. his mouth feels dry and he feels stupid. thoughts of sherman being able to press his lips and hands wherever he wanted on your body plague him. “sleepover tonight?”

“my place?” you question, even though that’s always where you host your secret sleepovers. you were the only one in cabin one, zeus’s cabin, and he was one of many in his own.

“of course.”

chris finally returns to the both of you and hands you a fresh s’more that you immediately indulge in. you did need time alone to think earlier, but you were heavily regretting losing track of time and missing dinner. 

chocolate takes residence on the corner of your mouth while you eat and remains there well after you clean your hands on the napkin. luke notices it and nudges you to point it out. “you have chocolate there.”

“here?”

“no,” he shakes his head as you wipe at the opposite corner. you miss it again, wiping too close to your lip. he uses his thumb and wipes it off for you. “there.”

the melted goo rests on the pad of his thumb, and you retrieve the napkin to hand it to him. before he can take the cloth square, he dips his thumb into his mouth and sucks lightly on it. your mind swirls before you can even comprehend exactly what he’s done. a blush reaches your cheeks. he smirks to himself and thinks that that singular act is more than sherman ever could have given you.

-

when luke walks into your cabin after making sure all of his little siblings are tucked in, he certainly is not expecting to see you in a tank top and thin linen shorts. he feels like you are testing him, which he realizes is ridiculous when he sees the layer of sweat across your chest. there’s an active heatwave, of course, you’re wearing as little as possible. “hey, stormy.”

“hey, sorry, the heatwave came out of nowhere earlier and i forgot to turn on my air conditioning. it’s going to be hot for at least another hour.”

“it’s okay,” he says and his eyes drift to your bed. he feels insecure, and inadequate, as he thinks of anyone else sleeping in your bed. you had been best friends since your arrival, many sleepovers had occurred in both of your cabins and they had all truly been innocent. at least on your part.

he looks at the sheets and back at you, your full chest rising and falling as you take in deep breaths from the air of the fan. you turn your gaze to him and concern fills you. you notice the distant look in his eyes. “what’s going on, luke?”

“can i ask you a question?”

“of course, anything,” you say and pat the ground beside you. he sits in the spot beside you on the carpeted floor and fidgets with his fingers as you look at him. he’s nervous, that much you can tell.

“did he stay here last night?”

“he?”

“sherman,” luke states, and you think your heart stops at those two syllables. no one was supposed to know aside from silena and clarisse. the two boys never talked, which meant that sherman had told someone else who subsequently mentioned it to the boy in front of you. fear fills you; your sex life was supposed to be something no one knew, something that stays personal. the last thing you need is someone saying you have the same reputation as your father.

“how do you know about that?”

“chris told me,” he pauses and sighs, realizing the panic in your face, “apparently sherman said he was falling in love with you. i didn’t know you were dating.”

a cackle escapes your throat, “dating? absolutely not. he knows that.”

luke can’t help but grin at your distaste for the son of ares. “so, you two?”

“just hooked up,” you shrug, feeling bashful suddenly, “it was why i was weird all day.”

“he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“no, slow your roll,” you rub your eyes with your palms, trying to think of what to say to your best friend. the two of you had never strayed to this topic before. “he just…”

“didn’t finish you off?” luke questions and your eyes go wide. this was the boy who had never been in a relationship, had his last kiss when he was sixteen, and had never had sex because he was too focused on running camp. you didn’t expect him to be so blunt. you feel the flush all over your body.

“luke!” you chastise, even though he wasn’t entirely wrong. “no! i mean, i was close but i guess you’re right. my complaint is that i told him i didn’t want to date him – don’t want to date anybody, actually – and he blatantly ignored that. he’s been bothering me all day, trying to ask me on a date. at least the others always understand.”

others. the only word luke finds himself focusing on. now that he knows sherman is out of the picture, all he can think about is who is in the picture still. “others?”

“um,” you pause, the heat in your body is from embarrassment now despite the cold air blowing heavily throughout your cabin now, “there’s no one else, now. there’s only been a few.”

“few.”

“i’m not naming them, luke,” you say, sternly. you dislike his interest in the topic. usually, your fear surrounding your sexuality stems from not wanting to seem promiscuous, and not wanting to be shamed. luke shows no interest in making you feel guilt or shame but instead seems hurt. “no one’s even supposed to know.”

“can i ask you one more personal question?” you sigh and nod at his request. you prepare yourself for the worst, most invasive thing that could have come to his mind. he surprised you just a few moments ago with his bluntness, but now you can see the pink at the tips of his cheeks and the purse of his lips. whatever he’s thinking of is making him bashful, and it’s almost a relief until he finally speaks again. “why have you never asked me?”

“what?!” you squeak in surprise.

“is sherman more attractive? or the others?”

“what? no! luke, this is crazy,” you tell him and reach for one of his hands in reassurance. “that’s not- i mean, ugh. luke, you are beautiful. it’s not about anyone being more attractive.”

“you think i’m beautiful?”

“this is an insane topic and i don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“why not?” luke whines. his sudden change in demeanor in the evening makes sense now – he was jealous? or insecure, perhaps?

“why are you pushing it?”

“because i’m tired of being inexperienced! i want to have sex and learn all of these things that all my brothers tease me about, but i want it with someone that i trust. and i don’t have time for a relationship, which everyone else who has shown interest wants. we already hang out all the time too, so it’s not like we have to sneak off or carve out time for each other!”

“what if i don’t want to have sex with you?”

“that’s fine.”

“and what if it affects our friendship?”

“it won’t,” he shakes his head, and he feels pathetic. he’s practically begging, and you love it. “we can set rules and boundaries.”

“okay.”

“okay?” he asks, giddily. he scoots closer to you, and suddenly his face is too close. the act isn’t new territory, but with luke it is. you nod, however, letting him bring his face closer to yours. “can i kiss you?”

“no,” you whisper, your lips nearly brushing, “we’re going to sleep on it. then we can talk more tomorrow, and set some rules before anything happens.”

you pull away from him and go to settle yourself into bed while he grabs the light. the vents slowly allow a faint chill to settle in the air, so when he lays down, you pull the blanket over the both of you. his breathing is slow as you reach out and pull yourself into him so you are face to face. on a typical night, he always falls asleep before you since you are often stuck in your head. even now you assume he already fell asleep with his steady breathing and closed eyes. you run a hand through his hair and he sighs.

“i can feel you staring at me,” he mutters and you blush. you thank the gods that it is too dark for him to notice if he decides to open his eyes. 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you play dumb and close your eyes. you scoot down to rest your head on his chest. he toys with the ends of your tank top and reaches under it to rest a hand on the skin of your lower back. a shiver runs through you. this is new. he pushes against you lightly until you are flush against each other. you feel your heart race and your whole body feels warm. the warmth is overwhelming even with the air conditioning on full blast, yet you’re sure it’s going to get worse. you were sure you wouldn’t be able to sleep with this heat, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to push away from luke. there is something so intoxicating about feeling so close to him, about feeling the lines of his abdomen against yours.

“stormy, relax. go to sleep,” luke whispers, and kisses the top of your head. you take deep breaths to try to calm yourself and wrap your arm around him too. eventually, the sound of luke’s heartbeat and the faint sounds of the thunderstorms from your cabin walls lull you to sleep.

-

when the sunlight flows in from the windows and luke begins to wake, he fully believes the night before was a dream. you stir beside him; your hair splays over his arm that rests underneath you, and a small smile tugs at your lips when you realize the body beside yours is his. “morning.”

“good morning,” he grumbles. you laugh and suddenly he’s happy to be waking up so early. “what time is it?”

“dunno,” you answer and retrieve your watch from the nightstand beside you. it was your mother's, he thinks, and the engraved initials on the band that differ from your own confirm it as you slide it on. “almost time for breakfast. you need to go make sure your cabin hasn’t burnt down.”

“don’t i get a goodbye kiss?”

“no,” your answer wipes the smirk off his face and you laugh at his antics. you lean over to his side of the bed and press a chaste kiss to his forehead. “we will talk later.”

“how much later?” he pouts, and you almost lose your reservations for the future. truthfully, you could have jumped him then and there but he continues to make you nervous. you never sleep with friends, although sometimes your hookups infiltrate your friend group (one in particular). you never even allowed yourself to think of luke – your closest friend – in any way other than platonically. thoughts of his body plague you now; thoughts of his lips, his thighs, his hands.

“well, silena, clarisse, and i have beach plans this morning. lunch after that, and then i have archery lessons with lee. so i’m free after dinner and the campfire.”

“sounds like you’re really trying to postpone sex,” he jokes, and you punch him in the arm, “i’m kidding!”

“we’re not having sex tonight.”

“we’re not?”

“no, we’re taking this somewhat slow. you’re my best friend who i love very much, not some acquaintance i see occasionally throughout camp,” you explain. luke was telling the truth, he was very inexperienced. there was little to no doubt that he was truly ready, but you could never deprive him of everything that could lead up to a person’s first time. “tonight, we will talk and slowly progress towards more.”

he groans and rolls out of your bed dramatically. you stifle a laugh until he finds your hands and pulls you to the floor. the straps of your tank top fall off your shoulders, and luke’s lips find their way to your collarbones once you softly land on top of him. a gasp escapes your lips as he holds you tight, his fingers pressed hard against your spine. the warm heat from the kisses trails all the way to the tips of your shoulders, and you pant, thinking about how nice it would feel if he just used his teeth a little bit. “i just needed to do that finally.”

“finally, huh?” you question, lightly pulling the hair at the nape of his neck. he maneuvered you both until you straddled him with his back against the side of your bed. your closeness should be more than enough, yet luke wants nothing more than to pull you closer. nothing would ever be close enough. “how long you been thinking about it?”

a blush rises on his cheeks and settles on his neck. the confidence he had just seconds ago disappears in light of your question. “i think since that time you beat me and pinned me down during capture the flag.”

“we were like sixteen!”

“and it was hot! oh my god, you staring down at me drove me crazy.”

“you horny ass! is that why you let me beat you now?”

“oh, i don’t let you beat me,” he admits, and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “you just are that good with your sword.”

you always assume luke pulls his punches (or his strikes, you suppose) with you because you’re such close friends. it’s reassuring that you come as a close second to the best swordsman at camp – however, percy is learning fast.

the conch horn sounds throughout camp, and soon everyone would gather for breakfast. neither you nor luke moves from your position; he stares at you with those deep, brown eyes, and every decision you thought you made before wavers. laughter and shouts from outside start to fill the quietness of the cabin, and you decide it isn’t so bad to let the guard down sometimes.

luke’s body momentarily tenses up as you slam your lips into his. he quickly relaxes, moving his hands to your plush hips. the touching is vulgar, but the kiss is so soft. his thumbs dip into the very top of your linen shorts, tracing the curve of your stomach and hips. your hands grip his forearms in an attempt to keep them on you for as long as you can – yet he can’t even imagine letting go. 

your lips move languidly, your tongue barely grazing his bottom lip as he pushes his face more into yours. he gasps when your core grinds against his subconsciously, needily, and you take the chance to slide your tongue against his.

although it’s the last thing you want at the moment, he pulls away whenever your stomach lets out a loud rumble. you rest your head against his shoulder as your bodies shake with laughter. “let’s go get some food.”

taglist of those who showed extra love on the first post 🫶: @kamaluhkhan @fubureaders @daisydark @wstcoastcoll3ctive @nina-isabelle

[abigail-pent]

Thoughts on HTN Act Five on ??th reread:

- the joke about the Ninth knowing a thousand shades of off-white is absolutely a 50 Shades of Grey reference

- Ianthe wonders what Harrow's face "could have done to it" - ohhhhh yeah she is doing hella cosmetic "surgery" on Corona. this still isn't explicitly canon as far as I'm aware, but that line makes it pretty damn close

- Harrow Nonagesimus breaks into the Tomb and Harrow Nova breaks into the Anastasian. Baby girl is the same in every universe

- Harrow Nova is "the unfulfilled vow" and "the bloody teeth of the unkissed skull" AND THEN ALECTO KISSES HARROW NONAGESIMUS IN FULFILLMENT OF THE VOW AND SHE BLEEDS. I've connected these things, I've connected them

- ok if Harrow is pulling everyone who's dead into her River bubble, then doesn't that mean that in the BARI Star AU she is actually interacting with the actual spirit of Gideon Nav?

- I don't know if we talk enough about how Harrow actually becomes a full Lyctor after she's stabbed and remembers Gideon. It feels kind of weird that her body only gets Lyctoral healing once her soul is gone from it. The construct in her skull is still there, it stays there until Gideon talks to Mercy and hears her name.

I mean, the weirdest thing about it is it implies that John and Gideon the First were right that they could fix Harrow by killing her. And given that the sort of cav Gideon becomes is explicitly and canonically analogous to the sort of cav Pyrrha is - still conscious and able to pilot the body in the absence of the necromancer's soul - that makes me wonder if maybe this happened to Gideon the First too. Like maybe that's why he's described as such a zombie, and maybe that's why John seems to know that killing Harrow would "fix" her, and Gideon agrees.

- Abigail talks about the place over the River the way John talks about the place beyond the stoma - it's an undiscovered country he knows nothing of, where his power is meaningless.

- Mercy says if Gideon Nav were Alecto, she would have "gone for me already" - so yeah, Alecto wasn't just incredibly weird and creepy, she was directing violence at Mercymorn. Pyrrha later says Alecto wasn't so bad (but that absolutely doesn't preclude Alecto being super violent to Lyctors, Pyrrha would respect the shit out of that), and of course it seems like she and Anastasia loved each other. But: John says that anger was Alecto's sin; The Unwanted Guest implies that that anger may have been John's, but in a different body; and it seems like this anger got expressed at Mercymorn and probably other Lyctors too. When Gideon meets Augustine she says he looks at her eyes in Harrow's face like they were the last thing he'd ever see; which suggests she took her anger out on Augustine too. But why was she angry at them? Was it because they ascended?

- "I gave you one damn job, and instead you rolled a rock over me and turned your back!" Harrow IS the Ninth House for real... (this is exactly the problem Silas has with the Ninth)

- in GTN, in the Cytherea fight, when Gideon looks back at Harrow right after she says "Then we're all dead, Nav, but let's bring hell first" 🤝 in HTN, in the Sleeper fight, when Ortus looks back at Harrow who has just followed his lead to recite the Noniad ... the way both of her cavaliers are a little surprised, but very impressed and comforted, by her loyalty to them and trust in them ... I am very fine and normal about this

- when Abigail summons Nonius: blazing like a flare from an alien blue sun! appearing to hold a book made of blue radiation in her hands! soaking wet! everything smells like water and brine and blood! she screams as though there are a multitude of voices in hers! time seems to slow way down! her eyes become dark and liquid and feral! this is both extremely fucking cool and probably meaningful. the smell and wetness are for the River, the many-voiced quality recalls Alecto and her many voices, the time slowing recalls John's ability to stop time, the eyes recall John's (so, Alecto's) as well. SHE IS ABIGAIL FOR HER MOTHERS AND PENT FOR HER PEOPLE AND I LOVE HER

- I love that Nonius canonically fought Gideon the First, and calls him "a rival and ally". I'm not much of a fic reader myself (heresy, I know) but I absolutely want to read a fic about "we met long ago, and I fought him."

- "Genuinely sad, bordering on very funny" legitimately could have been the tagline for this book

- Augustine says that if it's really Wake, then Gideon has proved "yet again" that he's unfit for any job besides making simple gruels and stews. Yet again??

- it's probably Augustine that Mercy tried to kill tbh

- I think Wake recognizes Pyrrha in Gideon's face when no one else does. That's why she looks at her like that.

- the way Gideon Nav has always yearned for her parents vs the way her bio-parents treat her... oof ohh oww... Pyrrha Dve is the only parent I will diplomatically recognize for Gideon Nav

- Alecto's eyes end up in John's genetic code - Lyctorhood doesn't only meld souls, it melds bodies as well.

- John says Mercy and Augustine killed Alecto because he told them the truth about her; and Augustine says he told them that because Alecto also knew the truth. But ... which truth was it? When we hear from Alecto, she seems to have a fuzzy memory.

Also, worth mentioning that this is a different account than what Teacher offers. Teacher says that the Lyctors asked John to kill Alecto after they ascended and "found out the price." If this account is correct - and why wouldn't it be, it comes from Augustine, who was a key player - then the "price" wasn't the death of the eight cavs, the "price" was something to do with the truth about Alecto. And whatever this truth is, it isn't that Alecto was John's cavalier, because Mercy and Augustine are only finding out about this now. I suspect the "price" is the price of creating necromancy - murdering the 10 billion - and then when Mercy and Augustine know that Alecto is the Resurrection Beast of Earth they ask John to kill her. So I was wrong, and he must have basically told them "lol we've been hanging out with an RB this whole time."

- when John reconstitutes himself, the light he emanates leaches all the color from the room and turns everyone into shades of gray. LIKE WHEN SILAS SIPHONS COLUM. It makes sense that he's taking thalergy from somewhere to build himself back up, but where exactly is it coming from? Alecto?

[iheartz4starzz]

EMBARRASSMENT 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

dazai osamu x f.reader (gauken au)

SYNOPSIS: reader is sitting alone at lunch, a certain bandage for brains decides to sit with them.

NOTE: so like... i'm back <3

Embarrassment is always a feeling that would kick you in the backside every time it got the chance to, which is probably most frequently.

Take class today, for example. Your classroom was taking a 'surprise' quiz from your teacher which, by the way, you are totally going to fail because you didn't understand half the shit the questions said. You didn't know why, but the melody from 'Symphony' kept ringing through your brain. This resulted in you having to read the questions over and over again.

Before you knew it, half the class was already finished with their quiz. And on top of that, you were hungry as hell. Probably to the point where you could eat your test paper. While trying to focus on your test, your stomach began to grumble loudly. It sounded as if a battle horn was being played. And get this, the whole class was quiet! Everybody turned to you with a questionable look, while some people giggled or snickered.

Sinking into your seat, your face began to heat up from embarrassment. That is, until you were saved by the loud ringing of the bell. Students fled from the classroom with their friends to their well-deserved lunch break.

You let out a sigh of relief and sat up from your desk, grabbed your bento box, and made your way to your normal, lonely bench for lunch.

You're used to sitting by yourself at lunch for the most part. People come and go from your table, yet you remain the only one that stayed. You sat down, opened your bento box, whispered a quick prayer before beginning to dig into your meal. God, how you've been waiting for this the whole day.

But before you could even take even a bite from a piece of food, a voice interrupted your peace. "Hey, you're (Name), right?"

An irk mark appeared on your forehead as closed your eyes in annoyance. You were about to eat, and someone interrupted you before you could even take a bite! Man, how disrespectful people can be.

You turned the voice and was in the process to give them a piece of your mind before your eyes widened to see none other than one of the most popular kids, Dazai Osamu. He's loud, sociable, and most definitely handsome. He's also often described as the class clown and player in your grade.

You looked around, wondering if he was talking to somebody else who's named (Name). There had to be someone else in this school name (Name), right?

"Me. You're talking to me?" You asked, pointing at yourself as you stared at brunette, dumbfounded.

Dazai could only laugh at your clueless expression, a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips. "I think so. Unless your name isn't Mai."

"Nope, yeah! That's me! Sorry. It's not everyday when the one of the popular kids at this school talks to me, y'know?" (Name) chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of her head in embarrassment about the stupid mistake she made. Of course he was talking to you! His gaze was literally directed onto you. This was your one chance to make a good expression, and you already blew it.

Dazai raised an eyebrow before snickering, then letting out a laugh. "You're funny! Mind if I sit here?"

You motioned to the spot beside you. Dazai scooted next to you, causing you to blush at the close proximity he created. You cleared your throat and stuck your hand out for Dazai to shake.

"I'm (Name), by the way. Though, you already know that because..." You stopped halfway before you could say anything else in attempt to save yourself from embarrassment. You expectantly failed and cursed under your breath.

Dazai smiled at your flustered and embarrassed expression. He found it cute. He noticed the hand you pulled away and grabbed it, pulling it back and shaking your hand firmly.

"No need to stop! I appreciate the reintroduction." Dazai chuckled and let go of your hand.

"R-Right."

"Anyways, about the quiz today." Dazai started and rested his cheek in the palm of his hand, his elbow propped onto the table. "You seemed to be having trouble on it. It's pretty easy, to."

"I'm just a bit... distracted." You replied, looking away from Dazai. You didn't want him to think you were stupid because the melody of 'Symphony' was one of the many things that lived in your mind rent free.

"You must've been hungry by how loud your stomach growled in class." He added.

"Don't even start with that!" You wailed, burying your red face into your hands.

Dazai laughed. "We have those times, don't sweat it. Plus, I'm pretty sure everybody was feeling the same way to." You still were embarrassed from the situation, though you picked your face up from your palms and continued to eat your lunch.

You and Dazai continued to chat through the lunch period, laughter filling the area as he told jokes and teased you. Though it embarrassed you mostly, you couldn't help but laugh along to it.

"Hey Dazai, how come you decided to sit with me?" (Name) asked and closed her bento box.

"Hm? Why did I?" Dazai recalled and cupped his chin with his point and thumb finger, thinking. He then smirked and leaned closer to you. "You looked lonely, after all. Plus, I thought you look pretty cute all flustered."

You blushed at Dazai calling you cute and how close he was to you, which caused you to smile in a giddy way. Just then, your guys conversation was interrupted by the school bell, informing everyone to get back to class. You sighed and stood up, smiling at Dazai.

"Thanks for sitting with me." You thanked the brunette, and to which he nodded in response.

A silence engulfed the conversation. Beginning to rock your heels back and forth, your lips pursed as you then muster up the courage to say the next thing. "Would it be crazy if we maybe hang out after school sometime? Maybe go to the arcade and get some ice cream?"

Dazai blinked his eyes, registering the information. A small blush dusted across his cheeks as he then smiled. "Yeah, sure. How about this weekend?"

"Cool, cool, yeah of course." You replied in a chill tone, but your inner self was actually screaming and jumping up and down with excitement. "Uhm, I'll catch you later, then!"

You backed away, bumping into a trash in the process. You quickly caught the bin before it could topple over, and smiled awkwardly at Dazai before running off.

The brunette held his hand to say something else, but it was to late. He let out a sigh and chuckled, shaking his head and stuffing his hands into his pockets before approaching the same door you went through.

'Silly girl. Doesn't she remember we're in the same class?' He thought to himself and walked inside the building.

[manneatcrarc]

I just love her stupid little face with all my heart under cut cause idk i couldn't pick a favorite lmao

[kbwrites]

Heated Waters

synopsis: being married is hard, being married without seeing each other is even harder.

⚝ content: Hiromi Higuruma x F! Reader, nsfw, bathtub sex, fingering, Hiromi neglects his wife, but boy does he make up for it

⚝ wc: 1.9k

“Yeah we do it pretty much every day.”

Satoru said, taking a leisurely sip of his water. His pale face alight with mischief, a shit-eating grin across his lips. His three coworkers stared at him in (jealousy) disbelief.

Suguru was the first to break the silence, wanting to save face “Everyday is a bit much, isn’t it, Satoru?”

Satoru chuckled, his blue eyes glinting with amusement as he watched his friend squirm. "What about you guys? How often do our married friends get it in?" His gaze flickered to Nanami, who cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from his coffee cup.

“Twice a week, I suppose…”

Satoru's smile widened, clearly entertained by the responses he was drawing out. He then turned his attention to the oldest among them, Hiromi Higuruma, who was carefully straightening his tie, a subtle attempt to avoid eye contact.

“What about you, Higuruma?”

“Your wife, (Y/N) is a little younger than you, right? C’mon Higuruma-San…She a total freak?” Satoru teased.

Hiromi's jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as his grip on his coffee cup tightened. He took a slow, measured breath, his voice strained but controlled when he finally spoke.

“Please don’t talk about my wife like that.”

But Satoru, ever the instigator, didn’t back down. “It’s just us guys riiggght? And I can’t lie Higuruma, you’re one lucky guy. (Y/N) is a catch.”

Nanami nodded in agreement, as did Suguru, though both seemed to sense the discomfort growing in Hiromi. The older man could only sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation.

It was true—you were everything he could have ever wanted in a partner. Beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted—his perfect match. If heaven existed, Hiromi was certain you’d be the only one worthy of it.

But long nights in the office, and early mornings preparing for court would take a toll on any relationship. The truth was… Hiromi hadn’t touched you in over a month. By the time he came home—you were fast asleep, and weekends were spent running the mountain of errands you couldn’t get to during the week. You loved each other of course, but it was hard. A month without feeling the warmth of your husband's hands all over your skin was starting to weigh heavily on both of you.

“You don’t have to answer Higuruma-san..” Nanami chimed in, sensing his elder colleague’s discomfort.

“Over a month.” Hiromi exhaled, the truth slipping out before he could stop it.

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

“WHAT?” Gojo audibly gasps. “Your wife looks like THAT and you haven’t f—”

Suguru swiftly cut him off with a well-placed elbow to the chest. “Satoru… leave Higuruma alone.” The long-haired male warns. “Still, that is surprising.”

“I know I know..” Higuruma pinches his bridge. He wanted nothing more than to have his wife under him… on top of him. But the endless stream of work kept him trapped in a cycle of exhaustion. “I’ve been so busy I can’t even remember the last time I actually spoke to her properly.”

Suguru offered an apologetic smile. “Sounds like you need a break.”

“Sounds like you need some puss—” Nanami quickly elbowed Satoru in the chest before he could finish his sentence.

Hiromi shook his head, letting out a dry chuckle as he ran a hand through his dark locks, clearly frustrated with himself. “I appreciate your concern, guys, but I don’t see how I can take a break right now. I have so much work to do, and I’m the only one who knows how to handle all of it.”

“Higuruma-San. Satoru will take care of the paperwork for you.” Nanami suggested with a deadpan expression.

“HUH?” Satoru blurted out, clearly caught off guard by the sudden assignment.

“Yeah,” Nanami continued, ignoring Satoru’s protest. “It’s not like he actually does any work around here anyway.”

Suguru smirked, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. You might as well make yourself useful, Satoru.”

Before Hiromi could protest, the trio moved in unison—Suguru grabbing Hiromi’s briefcase, Nanami steering him toward the door, and Satoru sighing dramatically as he resigned himself to the task.

“Are… are you boys sure about this? I don’t want to burden you–”

“Nonsense! Go home and take care of your wife!”

Hiromi placed his briefcase by the door, his tie feeling suddenly too tight around his neck. He loosened it with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around. The familiar scent of home greeted him. It was comforting yet bittersweet, a reminder of all the moments he had missed. The living room was tidy, the soft hum of the dishwasher running in the kitchen. You had clearly been busy, taking care of the house as you always did, even when he wasn’t around.

“Honey?” Hiromi calls out to you, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness.

Frowning, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair before making his way down the hall. As he approached the bathroom, he noticed a faint light seeping out from under the door, accompanied by the sound of water gently lapping against the tub.

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened the door.

The sight that greeted him made his breath catch in his throat. There you were, reclining in the bathtub, your eyes closed, head resting on the edge as steam rose around you. The soft glow of candles illuminated the room, casting a warm, serene light over your features.

You looked so peaceful, so beautiful—that it almost hurt to look at you. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he took in the sight, but the guilt and longing only deepened. How long had it been since he’d taken the time to appreciate you like this? Since he’d been able to just… be with you?

You opened your eyes, gaze meeting your husband as he leaned against the door frame.

“Hiromi?” you murmured, your voice soft, almost questioning, as if unsure whether he was really there or just a figment of your imagination.

“Hey Honey…” his voice equally soft, as he took a tentative step closer. The warmth of the room seemed to wrap around him, melting away some of the day’s stress.

“You’re home early.” You muse, looking at him as you rested your arms on the tub. He doesn’t respond, just walks towards you with purposeful steps.

Hiromi stares down at you with half-lidded eyes.“The guys decided I need a break.” He paused, his breath hitching slightly as he continued, “Can I join you?” A playful smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Only if you take off your clothes this time.”

A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he unbuttons his dress shirt, letting each article of clothing fall to the tile floor. As he finally sheds his boxers before settling behind you. You exhaled softly, the tension you’d been holding onto for weeks dissipating as you sank into your husband’s embrace.

Hiromi didn’t waste a moment, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses along the curve where your shoulder met your throat. His breath was warm against your skin, his kisses slow and unhurried, as if savoring every second, every inch of you.

His hands weren’t idle either, tracing gentle patterns along your stomach, moving upwards to cup your breasts with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. He nipped lightly at your earlobe, his voice a husky murmur, “I’ve missed you… more than you know.”

“Missed you too ‘Romi..” Your voice trembling as the almost foreign heat began to pool in your core.

Deft fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching—eliciting a soft moan from your lips as your body arched into his touch. Your hand reached back, tangling in his dark locks, pulling him closer as his lips traveled down to your shoulder, his other hand snaking under the water to your aching cunt.

“ahhhh… s-shitt..” You cry out as Hiromi’s fingers slowly circle your swollen bud. His touch light, teasing.

“Thirty-two days… I’m so sorry m’love.” He mumbles into your shoulder as he slips a slender digit into your entrance. Your walls flutter immediately around the intrusion, as he gently pumped into you.

He adds another finger, curling up to the spot he had neglected all those weeks. He extended his thumb to rub your clit. You arch your back against him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass.

“Hiro…” you moan, reaching behind for him, but he bites down lightly on your shoulder.

“Not yet, pretty girl, want you t’cum first okay?”

He whispers as he feels your gummy walls clench around him.

He speeds up his ministrations, digits stuffing your cunt as your pussy throbs and squelches. Your whimpers echo around the tiled walls, water lapping around your bodies.

You feel the pressure building as each thrust of his long fingers brush against your g-spot.

“g-gonna cum!”

“Cum f’me sweetheart please—god… need it so bad.” Hiromi mumbles as he pumps even faster.

“a-ahh!” you cry as you reach your high, walls clenching as you cum on your husband’s hand. He removes his fingers from you, moving to gently circle your clit as you come down from your orgasm.

You both stay there for a moment, your heavy breathing the only sound occupying the space, mingling with the gentle slosh of water against the porcelain tub. Hiromi’s arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer.

Slowly, he lifted you, the warm water swirling around you both as he maneuvered you to face him, settling you on his lap. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your knees pressing against the cool sides of the tub.

You straddled Hiromi, your bodies now fully aligned, chest to chest. Your husband's dark, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, his expression a mixture of raw need and unspoken tenderness. He let his hands rest on your waist for a moment, thumbs tracing gentle circles against your damp skin as he took in the sight of you.

“I don’t know how I’ve stayed away from you for so long…” his voice breaking slightly as if the admission pained him.

Your breath hitched as you shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the tension between you intensify. Hiromi’s hands slid up your sides, his touch deliberate and slow, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as his lips finally found yours. The kiss was deep, full of hunger that had been simmering between you both for far too long.

His grip on your waist tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance that left you dizzy with need.

Breaking the kiss, Hiromi leaned his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

“I won’t make that mistake again.”

Without a word, he rose from the tub, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. Water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck.

He laid you gently onto the bed, your back sinking into the soft silken sheets, but Hiromi didn’t waste any time. His gaze darkening as he climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, his eyes drinking you in like a man starved.

“I’m going to make up for every second I’ve missed.”

[jensthwa]

show & tell (SMG x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

You have known Mingi since you both were fourteen. You’ve been by his side through thick and thin and you would do anything for him, really, considering he’s your other half. When he has an unfortunate bed experience and asks for your help and you say yes, he starts considering that, maybe, you’re just the best friend a guy like him can have.

PAIRING: best friend!mingi x afab reader.

GENRE: childhood best friends to ?

WORD COUNT: 8k.

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, wooyoung being a little shit, hwa being the voice of reason, sex talk, pet names (love and also dude and bro but in a sweet way), mingi scaring the sense out of you, descriptions of female anatomy, kissing, dirty talk (sort of), teasing, a little bit of voyeurism, fingering, squirting, almost getting caught, unresolved feelings.

NOTES: had to do a lot of research for this one, so i figured nothing better to post as my first fic here! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: july 18th 2024.

masterlist. / part two.

“Delete her number right now!” 

“She's such a bitch for saying that to you…” 

“And over text too? Wow.” 

“Yeah, no, I didn't like her from the start.” 

Wooyoung’s living room comes to life once again that morning, voices echoing and insults flying out, all towards the girl Mingi’s seeing. 

Was seeing. You're sure she's out of his usual rotation with the lovely shit show she just caused. 

You stay silent, your eyes fixed on your best friend's expression, on his red cheeks and apologetic eyes because everyone told him that girl was bad news. 

He should've listened to you when you told him you liked her friend better. She was a sweet girl, clearly had a thing for Mingi. 

Unfortunately, Mingi has a type. And that type always ends up breaking his spirit one way or another. 

But you stay silent, letting your friends have their little rants about how much of a bitch she is for hurting Mingi's ego like that, until he covers up his face with his hands and lets out a frustrated whine. 

“That's enough, everyone. I think he got it.” You smile a little and everyone turns to you, Yunho’s chest heaving and everything but Seonghwa (who also kept his mouth shut all this time) interferes before anyone else has the chance to start again.

“You know you shouldn't feel ashamed for that, right?” he asks Mingi, who slowly lowers his hands to his lap and looks at you for a brief second. You nod, confirming what Hwa says “No one is born knowing everything and she shouldn't expect you to know how to make a girl squirt.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Mingi whines again, closing his eyes “Don't say it like that.” 

“How else should I say it?” Seonghwa is confused but he laughs a little bit and turns to you. 

Being the only girl in the room, you think everyone it's expecting you to pick your friend up and join them in their insults but you can't (for Mingi’s sake). Instead, you let out a sigh “I mean, it's hard to even make it happen on your own without any help, Mingi. I don't know what the fuck she's on but…” shrugging, you extend your arm to pat him in the shoulder two times “Hwa’s right.” 

“So you do know?” 

“Woo—” Hongjoong reprimands right away and you turn to Wooyoung, confused.

“Huh?” 

“You said that it's hard making it happen,” he explains, smiling because he just found a new target for the next few days “So you must know.” 

Talking about sex with them was never difficult, it didn't make you uncomfortable whatsoever but you know what Woo is doing. 

You look down at Mingi before answering though and his eyes are glued to the carpet, begging for the topic of his unfortunate encounter with that bitch to die on everyone's tongue. 

So you take mercy on him. 

“Oh. I mean… Yeah.” You shrug once again, leaning back against the cushions on the couch while Wooyoung claps like he just heard the most hilarious joke ever. 

“You truly are amazing.” 

Rolling your eyes, you get up from your comfy seat “Sure. But it took a lot of practice and the whole ordeal was frustrating for me, so, again, I don't know what the fuck she was on,” you say again, smiling down at Mingi before taking a few steps towards the door “It's noon already, by the way.” 

“Shit.” Woo gets up quickly from his spot on the floor and everyone else follows suit. 

“Alright, everyone out! We have a midterm to cheat on.” San calls out and everyone takes it as their sign to actually leave (not just hang around the apartment) and continue with their days. 

This reunion was a little impromptu, just because Wooyoung texted everyone begging to come over and hang out with him and San before their online philosophy midterm. 

“And by that he means that you need to stay,” Wooyoung hugs Seonghwa hard, almost begging him with his eyes “We didn't study… Don't look at me like that! Please?” 

“I'm not doing your fucking midterm for you!”

You chuckle, leaning on the door and waiting for your ride home to get his shoes on. When you look down at him again, Mingi mouths a thank you and you blow him a kiss. 

When you get downstairs, you swear you still hear Wooyoung begging his senior to take the test for him. 

Everyone is quiet in the car. You can tell they're tired from exams and life in general, so you don't press them with questions and just let the music play in the background while you look out the passenger window and, eventually, at Mingi. 

His grip on the steering wheel lets you know he's a little more affected than he let on back there. But, again, you say nothing. 

You know better than to pressure him into telling you his feelings. 

Mingi and you have been friends forever. He lived a few houses down from yours, becoming your first friend when you moved to the city. You both were fourteen when it happened, so you've known him long enough to know what happens when he gets his heart broken. 

Not that Mingi loved that girl or anything, but he never really took embarrassment well. He didn't when the first girl he liked rejected him in front of the whole ninth grade class and he didn't when his pants ripped in the middle of the stage while performing a routine with his dance team on senior year. 

You stood by his side every single time and every single time he waited to sit down and let everything out, collect his feelings and talk to you through his frustrations. You really loved that about him, because he never said anything he regretted just because he was upset at the moment. 

Maybe that's why you two have been friends for so long. Opposites attract, or whatever your mother told you one time. 

In reality, you think it's because you two complement each other well. 

He knows when to speak his mind and you're kind of impulsive, heart on your sleeve and sharp tongue ready to defend your and your loved ones honor if needed. 

That's why it takes a lot of strength for you to not pull up that girl's number from his phone and give her a piece of your mind. 

One by one, you drop your friends off in different parts of the city and when it's time to go into your own house, you circle the car and Mingi rolls his window down.

He reads the look you give him a little too well, so he opens his mouth to stop you but you shake your head. 

“Call me, come over or just let me know if you need anything,” you start before he says anything “If you need me to beat her up, I can do that too.” 

He huffs out a laugh “You don't even know how to fight, love.”

You sigh at the nickname, he's been using it since the time you told him you had a crush on his friend, way bsck in highschool, and that you were positive you were going to get together and he would csll you love because that's what good boyfriend's do. 

Turns out, you weren't exactly his friends type. Neither were the other girls in your school. 

“I don't give a shit, I'll do it,” You two smile to each other fondly for a few seconds and then you tap the top of the car “Thanks for the ride, dude.” 

“You’re welcome, bro.” He rolls his eyes, annoyed because he hates when you call him that, but waits for you to get inside either way. 

And in the solitude of your room, you wait. 

You distract yourself with papers that are due in a few days, you start studying for your finals even though they're months away and you even go downstairs to say goodbye to your parents when they leave for a fancy dinner with their colleagues before you hear your phone ring. 

Mingi's FaceTime comes right on time, because you were getting really anxious from the radio silence on his end. 

“I have a small query for you.” He puts on an accent that makes you grimace immediately and he laughs at you. 

“Ew. Never do that ever again,” you beg, going back upstairs to your room “Go ahead.” 

“How do you do it?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“How the fuck do you make yourself squirt, love?” 

Oh. 

Definitely not the conversation you were hoping to have with him. 

It caughts off guard and you stammer your response “Um… You— I mean, it's not really a thing I can explain.” 

“You have such a way with words, though.” 

You stare at him through the screen, annoyed, and he just laughs again “Don't make me come over and beat you up.” 

“Alright, alright,” his giggling dies out and you distract yourself from the heat you feel creeping over your cheeks while putting away your statistics prep for the quiz you have next week. There's a bit of silence and then you hear him sigh “I do really want to know, though.” 

“If you're asking me this to then go over to her house and prove her wrong, I'm not telling you shit.” 

“No! No, that's not it at all,” he defends himself quickly when you turn your head to the camera, scowl in your face “When she asked me to do it, I really did try to make her, you know…” 

“You said squirt so freely a minute ago, Mingi,” you tease, smiling, but at his expression, you give in “What exactly did you do?” 

“I tried to, you know, do it like they do it in the movies,” he demonstrates his point with his free hand, his middle and ring finger down on his sheets, pressing and moving side to side “And she was enjoying it and she came, but nothing really… came out.” 

“Wow, first of all: you make her come and she has the nerve to give you shit over text? I hate her,” you shake your head, disappointment written all over your face “and second of all, that was a terrible mistake.” 

“What? Going like this?” He does it again and you roll your eyes, laughing a second later. 

“No, dude, trying to porno your way into making her squirt.” 

“Oh.” His movements on the sheets slow down and you grimace again. 

“Please stop doing that,” you beg and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you through the screen. You take your phone and move to the bed, resting your head against the pillows with a huff. 

You ponder for a moment. You're sure telling him what he wants to hear it's not really a threat to your friendship, but it's also something that's very personal and intimate. You can talk about sex with Mingi and the other guys, sure, what doesn't mean you tell them about your sex life. 

Maybe that's why Wooyoung was so excited earlier today, because you spilled something that involves you directly and not something vague and general like you usually do. 

“Would it give you peace of mind if I explained it to you?” You ask, your voice barely a whisper as you sit straight on the bed. 

Your best friend takes what feels like a lifetime to respond and, when does, it's in a hushed tone as well “Please.” 

You groan and you comply either way, trying to find the right words to even start “Okay, I'm going to be very technical about this.” 

“I wouldn't expect anything else from you.” 

His teasing tone makes you glare at him for a few seconds before dismissing it with a click of your tongue “The very first thing you need to make sure happens, is that you wash your hands—” 

“Yes, Y/N, I'm not a virgin,” he huffs this time, annoyed “I know all of that, just skip to the part where I make her squirt.” 

“Jesus, fine! I also want to clarify that this works on me and I'm not really sure if it'll work on anyone else, alright?” he nods and you look away from the screen because you're not sure how to look him in the eyes “The first thing that I do— The first thing that you need to do,” you correct yourself quickly “Is make sure she's comfortable. And I mean, the space. Towels, water bottles… She needs to hydrate a lot.” 

“Hydrate… a… lot…” You turn your head to the screen and your jaw goes slack at what you see. 

“Are you writing this down?!” 

“I’m making sure I don't forget anything!” 

“You're unbelievable…” You let out under your breath and take a deep one before resuming the, apparently, class “Squirting can be confused as peeing and—” 

“Shit, hold on.” He interrupts and you hear his mom’s voice at the door, asking him something you can't really catch through the shitty airpod audio “It's just Y/N… I'm not really saying anything so I don't understand how I'm being too loud for— Yes ma'am.” 

You try not to laugh because he's literally being scolded right in front of you. 

Old habits die hard, and Mingi's mom loves to put him on the spot. 

Your laugh dies hard as well, because the next words, for some reason, make your heart drop to your ass. 

“She's telling me to either cut it out or go to your house, so… I'm coming over.” 

“Oh, I— Hello?” Your lockscreen mocks you because the call literally ended before you could tell him to go and fuck himself “Shit.” 

You don't know why you panic, but you do. You tidy up the room, you change your pijamas into something more presentable and you try to remember what were you telling him before he pulls open your bedroom door. 

“Mingi! Fuck, you scared the shit out of me “ you're panting, hand over your chest. 

He’s also panting, like he runned to get to your house, but he looks dumbfounded by your reaction “Your mom literally gave me the spare keys in your presence.”  

When he steps closer, you notice he's wearing cologne and that his hair it's a little wet, still, so you figure he took a shower before calling you tonight. 

Which means he probably wanted to sleep everything off, like he usually does, but whatever this is made him call you. 

“Yeah! But I thought you— Nevermind.” He shrugs and gives your hair a kiss before he moves to sit at your desk, the same way he usually does when he steals your laptop and notes to complete his assignments for the few classes you share. 

God. Somehow, you wish he was doing just that so it brings back some sense of normalcy. Maybe then, your heart can calm down enough for you to understand why this specific situation has your senses going insane. 

You sit back down on your bed and try to get your heart back to its place in the meantime. 

“They're not home, right? I didn't see your dad’s car.” 

“Company dinner.” 

“Ah.” He nods and you both fall in uncomfortable silence. It shouldn't be awkward, but it kind of is, even if you laugh when he pulls out the notebook he was writing on from underneath his oversized shirt and steals a pen from your pencil case, it's still a little weird. 

You gulp. 

“So, squirting can be confused as peeing.” He recalls the last thing you said with a smile and then he turns to look at you for a second “Go on.” 

You're grateful he's taking notes all of the sudden. He's turned to you, so you have a clear view of his back and you can freely take a grounding breath before continuing “It can make you feel very uncomfortable if you think you're going to pee yourself and that's really why most women don't squirt in the first place.” 

“You sound like you're reading a text book.” He confesses with a laugh. 

“I told you, I'm being very technical about this— Besides, I did my research when I was trying to…” you gulp again “You know.” 

“You said squirt so freely a minute ago.” Mingi teases you the same way you teased him earlier and you squint your eyes in return. 

“Very funny. Anyways… Yeah, when you feel that, you usually tense up. You need to relax before even making it happen,” he nods, writing it down quickly “I also read that, depending on the person, you can confuse the liquid with, like, usual… arousal? Yeah, arousal” you sound more confident the second time you say it, unsure on how to call it because you never really explained anything related to your vagina to anyone else. 

He turns to you, confused “So… If she doesn't squirt a lot, how can I tell if she did it?” 

“I guess you'll notice it in her reaction?” You shrug and then cough a little to try and get rid of the sudden lump on your throat “I mean, it's not my case, so I wouldn't… I wouldn't know that.” 

Mingi, because -you guess- hates you, just raises a brow and looks you over one time before turning back to his notes. 

“A-anyways,” you cough again “It's all in her g-spot. It happens because it gets stimulated and that g-spot it's like…” you, once again, try to find the ideal words to explain “It's like the upper wall of the vagina? No, no, that's not right,” you see him draw a line over what he clearly wrote down on the paper and you laugh, apologetic “It's more like the, uh… Like the front wall of it.” 

“Front wall?” 

“Y-yeah?” you offer, nervous and unsure “I mean… Ugh, let me explain again. Something that you need to take into account is that you can only find it if she's really, really turned on.” 

“O… kay.” 

“Sort of like when you get hard we, uh, also get hard. Just differently,” you notice he's no longer taking notes when you turn to him again and the room is suddenly very hot. 

The AC’s on, right? 

Fuck. 

“And apparently it only really shows up when you're really aroused. The g-spot, I mean,” Quickly, you're up from your bed and walking around it, fetching your water bottle and taking a big gulp of it with your eyes closed. 

Mingi clears his throat a second later. 

“So it feels hard to the touch or…” 

“Not really, um… It kinda feels like a berry.” 

He laughs “What?” 

“Yeah, it's kind of soft but it has a texture to it too. And we, uh… have this gland that fills up with the liquid— Kind of like a prostate gland! Yeah, that's what that article said,” putting even more distance within Mingi and you, you sit back on the bed, just on the other side “If you try to do it before it fills up, you end up with nothing. That's what frustrated me the whole time I was learning how to do it.” 

“You didn't drink enough water?” 

“No, no— It fills up when you get really turned on. And when I was trying, I was trying way too hard and didn't, uh… I didn't do a lot of foreplay before trying, s-so.” You nod, finishing the explanation in a softer voice. 

Your cheeks feel hot and you swear your upper lip is sweating a bit. Why would you even say that? 

“Y-you didn't touch yourself enough or…?” 

“Exactly, I didn't, I just… Tried t-to stimulate it. Wasn't even wet enough so I used, uh, lube.” 

“Oh… Lube. Sure, okay.” He nods again, and then moves his hand over his face, looking away for a second “And then?” 

“I'm not really sure how to… Give me a second.”

What were you even telling him before exposing yourself like that? Before the tension in the room skyrocketed in a suffocating way? You're not sure. 

Oh, foreplay. Okay, what's next? 

“Fingering,” you say out loud when you remember and at the sudden word Mingi turns to you, eyes wide and you stumble over your words yet again “Y-you need to finger her to stimulate the g-spot, duh.” 

“Don't duh me, Y/N, I'm learning!” 

“Sorry!” 

“Okay! Now what do I do when… fingering.” 

That makes you frown. You're not really sure what to tell him next. So you look straight ahead and, unintentionally, move your ring and middle finger the way you do when you're touching yourself. 

In the silence of the room, you audibly hear Mingi’s breath hitching and that draws you back to reality. 

When you look at him, his eyes are solely focused on your fingers. 

“I don't really know how to explain this next part.” You sound apologetic, your lips tensing into a straight line. 

A bit passes. 

And then another one and another one where Mingi looks at you with a weird, foreign expression on his face. 

So you open your mouth to apologize to him, but he beats you to it. 

“Then show me.” 

You swear you never even heard him sound like that before. Or maybe you have, the tone of voice similar to when he just wakes up, low, grouchy, as if his throat might be dry. 

It just never affected you this way. 

“W-what?” you blink hard, a few times, trying to focus on whatever the hell is going on. 

“Show me how you do it… I-if you want to.” 

“Mingi!” 

“I just— Look, you don't have to,” he says right away “If you don't want to, you can forget I ever asked but I'm so… curious”, he says, getting up from your desk chair and planting his knee into the bed “And I'm also really butthurt over what happened. I want to learn but I don't really have anyone else to ask.” 

“What about, uh… Minseo! Yeah, what about her?” you offer quickly, also getting up. 

“San's ex?!” 

“I don't know any other woman that you also know, Mingi!” 

He gulps and breathes heavily, gathering his words, his thoughts, just like he always does and you remember: This is Mingi. Your Mingi. The Mingi you've known for years and care about more than anything. 

“I'm asking you because I trust you,” he says, looking you over once again “And because if I fail, you're not… going to make fun of me for it.”

There it is. 

You soften at that and he seems to relax at your reaction. His demeanor lets you know he's not just saying that because he wants to see you touch yourself, he's being honest. 

So you decide to be honest, as well. In a whisper, because your voice will tremble and give away how strongly you feel about his request. 

“I've never done it in front of anyone before.” 

“So no one has ever make you—” 

“No,” you confirm before he even gets it out and you sigh “I never ask for it and I haven't really… I've only slept with—” 

“Hangyeol.” He nods and scrunches his nose in disgust at the memory of your highschool boyfriend. They never really got along and it was a shame, because Han was a great guy, he just wasn't the one for you. 

“Mingi,” you walk over to him and he straightens up his spine “This could really… I mean, there's no getting rid of me on this lifetime, buddy,” reminding him makes him smile and you do as well, nervous, your body on high alert “But this could mess us up.” You finish in a whisper. 

“I'm not letting that happen.” He says back, eyes scanning your face before zeroing on your eyes “There's no getting rid of me either, love.” 

That nickname is going to be the death of you, you're sure. It makes you suck in air you very much need at this moment. 

Fuck it. 

“I'll… get the towels, then.” You smile a little even though your cheeks are burning and you feel a little dizzy while holding his gaze, but you don't back down. 

Before you move, though, he stops you with his hand holding your waist “I know where they are. Stay here.” 

You could literally melt right now. And you know it's a short trip to the downstairs hallway closet from your room, so you make sure you strip your duvet before things get messy. 

You should go to the bathroom, too, to clean yourself up a bit before Mingi finds out what you find out when you sit on your bed. 

You're so wet. 

And it's so fucking embarrassing, because you're not supposed to feel this way for him, for this.

Because, if anything, this is clearly just an educational experience.

And if Mingi’s excited look when he re-enters your bedroom tells you otherwise, you're choosing to ignore it for the clearly educational experience’s sake. 

“These will do?” 

You take the two mismatched towels and place them on the bed right away, not even looking at him. 

“Yep.” 

You think he nods but you're not sure, you just caught a glimpse of him moving towards your desk while you pretend to fix the towels in the bed to perfection. 

“Okay, so… You need to, uh, be comfy and shit. Drink water, you just did that a few minutes ago…” when you turn to him, he's reading his notes like he's actually about to conduct an experiment and you chuckle before shaking your head “The… The foreplay part should be next, right?” 

“Right…” you drag out, biting the inside of your cheek before he looks back at you. 

“You look really tense, Y/N,” he deadpans, looking down at his notes again “You need to relax so it can happen, right?” 

“You're about to see me touch myself and you think I can relax?” 

“Oh,” he frowns, immediately and then blinks a few times to refocus, you think “I'm not the one doing it?” 

“Uh… Yes? Later? I thought you wanted to see me first, y-you… You asked me to show you…” 

You can feel him think, the gears on his brain twisting and you think he's going to backpedal at any second because he's not really saying anything. Then you see it, the moment the image crosses his mind. 

And the next second you have him in front of you, towering over your form and then he's not.

Getting on his knees, he tentatively places a hand on your knee and parts your legs so you can make room for him to touch the end of the mattress with his chest and raise his chin just enough to make you think he's asking you to kiss him.

Oh God, you want to kiss him. 

His voice is a sweet murmur when he speaks again “Show me how to get you there, love,” he sounds like he's pleading, like he's begging you to instruct him and your breath catches when he moves his hand up your thigh “What do you like?” 

Your mouth moves before you can even think “Kiss me.” 

You don't even notice you're leaning forward until his breath fans against your chin and he tilts his head even more so that your noses touch. 

“How do you like being kissed?” 

You breathe out a laugh, a little annoyed by his constant questioning “Figure it out, Mingi.” And then the last thing you see is his smirk before his mouth presses against yours. 

It's not what you expect. If anything, you expected him to take the lead. Han used to do so, all the guys you've ever kissed did it as well. You don't really know why his patience surprises you, but it does and if your heart could race even more, it would. 

Because he waits for your guidance, waits for you to grab his shirt and jank him closer, waits for you to sigh against him and then returns the gesture when he feels your fingers move upwards and tangle in his dark hair. 

His mouth is complying to yours, his tongue is exploring it and wetting your lips in the process and you've never felt this good with anyone before. 

That's something you'll need to unpack later, but your brain disconnects when your best friend lets out a noise the second his hands touch your waist under your shirt and you forget, for a split second, that the point of this is to have you on your back pleasing yourself for him to learn. 

Because you want nothing more than to hear him make that noise again. 

The kisses grow needy and so do you when he trails a path with his wet lips from your chin to your neck and the next thing you know is that your back is against the towels you laid down before and his mouth is kissing the valley of your breasts over the cotton of your shirt. 

You look down and it takes a second for him to feel you staring before he looks up at you “Should we take this off?” 

Your voice gives away how gone you are when you reply a simple yes and your shirt is on the floor the next instant. 

Now, you're sure this is not the first time Mingi has seen you in your underwear. You both have gone swimming before and he has walked into your room a million times while you're getting ready. You're even sure he's seen you walk out from your bathroom in this specific bra before… But he's staring at you like it's the first time he's been able to trace the way your breasts spill a little bit over the fabric of this old bra you decided to wear today, like it's the first time he's allowed himself to enjoy it. 

Like it's the first time he's allowing himself to feel any sort of attraction for you. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, shallow breath hitting his cheek when he returns his mouth to your jaw “Let me… Come here.” 

You scoot up until your head rests against your pillows and he follows, resting his body weight on his side and chasing your mouth when you turn your face to him. 

You should speed this up. There's no way you're not going to feel like shit if tomorrow you wake up and remember you're letting yourself enjoy this more than you should. 

There’s no reason for you to lose your breath when his fingertips trace softly the skin under your breasts or for your legs to grant him access so quickly when they reach your belly and bypass every other part of your body before going straight in between them. 

And he notices it too. 

“I don't know why I asked you so many questions before,” he starts, turning his hand so that he back of it and his nails start caressing the inside of your thighs through your sweatpants “I know what you like. I pay attention to you whenever we're talking about sex with the guys.” 

You frown, about to remind him that you never speak directly about your own experiences but he continues his ministrations, giving your other thigh attention “I usually watch you closely in case any of it makes you uncomfortable, but I notice your reactions when they speak about something that you like.” 

Oh. Heart on your sleeve, your biggest flaw. 

“Like that one time Woo was going on and on about marking and you couldn't stop fidgeting on your seat…” his nose traces your jaw softly before his teeth take the skin underneath it and you gasp just enough to prove him right “Or that time Yunho said he hated teasing because he's an impatient little shit” he chuckles, his index finding the spot next to your mound and going down slowly until his knuckle graces the crevice where your leg and your hip connect “and you defended it until we had to stop you guys from yelling each other over it…” 

Your breath shakes and your eyes close at the sensation “Mingi…” 

“Am I wrong?” 

You shake your head no and you can all but hear him smile when he speaks again. 

“Of course I'm not.” 

You open your eyes and expect him to look at you the way he does when you're unable to defend yourself against his quips, but he's not. His eyes are following his own actions and his bottom lip is pulled by his teeth when he takes the fabric of your sweatpants and pulls it up, enough to give you some friction where you need it the most. 

“Can I take this off?” 

“Fuck, y-yes.” 

Joining your shirt on the ground, you're left only in your underwear while Mingi is fully clothed and it bothers you out of nowhere. 

“You're so wet already…” he observes and you blush, puffing some air and covering your eyes with you hand. He just laughs “That's a good thing, it means that I'm doing okay.” 

He's doing more than okay. Damn all the experience he has and the way he reads you so well. 

But his sweet tone gives you some clarity and you support your weight on your hand to fix your position on the bed. 

“Alright, let's… resume the lesson before my parents get home.” 

“They probably won't for now. The company dinners last until like… two in the morning, usually, right?” 

“That's when they decide to go out for drinks.” 

“Your mom always wants to go out for drinks.” 

“Let's not talk about my mom right now!” you beg and he laughs again, making you chuckle alongside him and you're glad he's talking all of this -the kissing, the teasing, the sweet-talk and the wet patch on your underwear- so well. 

The awkwardness from before dissipated the moment he got on his knees in front of you and all that followed was this lovely tension you're dying to keep between the two of you forever even though you shouldn't. 

“Show me, love,” he pleads and you sigh, his mouth finding your cheek for a quick second, encouraging you “And then you can show me how to make you feel good, too.” 

You stare at him for a few seconds “Damn, you're good,” he shakes his head and you smile, getting rid of your underwear and pushing the quick moment of embarrassment being bare with him in the room gives you “Remember that this is what works for me, okay?” 

He nods and then props himself up so he can see it better. 

You take a second before your fingers dive into your wet folds and, when you do, you gasp at the feeling. 

You've never been more wet just for kissing and teasing before. What the fuck. 

You do what you usually do when you're alone for a while and try to contain yourself from moaning because Mingi's eyes keep moving from your fingers to your face. Then, you remember you should be talking him through it, as well. 

“You see how I'm building it up?” you start, chest heaving and he hums as his reply “I'm not trying to make myself come but I'm kinda just… edging myself a little bit.” 

“Edging,” he repeats and then hisses when he sees your thumb pressing into your clit just how you like it, making you sigh heavily “I know all about that, that's good.” 

“Y-you do?” 

“You'll be surprised,” he smiles, proud of himself. 

“Okay,” you continue, taking a deep breath “Then you know about prepping, too,” he nods “So, a finger first…” you say, swallowing hard when your index makes its way into your cavity without much effort. 

Dragging back and forth for a minute or so, you're incapable of containing yourself any longer. Air leaves your mouth in pants and your eyes close when you drag the pad of your finger upwards, locating your g-spot with ease because you're used to it.

“And then, two fingers.” 

“Mhm.” 

“Look at the position of my hand. I read that these two fingers work the best because they're longer than the rest, although…” you look at Mingi's hand over your belly. You didn't even noticed before this that he was touching you, but he is and his thumb is tracing a pattern that both relaxes you and sends shivers down your spine “I'm sure that it won't be a problem for you, huh?” 

He sends a cocky smirk your way and you would've smacked him if you weren't so… preoccupied. 

Pressing your precious spot and then dragging back and forward, you stop the movements altogether. It felt too good, way more than good and it's a different sensation of what you're used to. 

And it's all because of him. 

You look at his side profile, his eager eyes commiting to memory what you're doing to yourself, probably taking mental notes now that his notebook is long forgotten over at your desk and… 

He deserves this. He deserves to be the one to have this, just tonight. 

You hate to leave what feels like it's about to be your best orgasm in the hands of someone who's just learning, yet alone a man.

But Mingi is not just any man. 

“Mingi,” you call and his curious eyes leave your heat a second later “your turn.” 

“Did you… Did it happen? I didn't see anythi—” 

“No,” you interrupt him, your fingers leaving you and you turn to him, your clean hand finding his face “show me what you learned.” 

His mouth parts, but you have a newfound confidence and a glint in your eyes that is new, so nothing comes out. 

“Prove that bitch wrong.” 

That seems to do it. 

His eyes go from being confused to spark with determination and want and electricity runs through you again because he seems so relieved he gets to touch you sooner than expected. 

Shyness and nervousness buried six feet under, you both smile to each other before you feel him. 

His fingers gathering your wetness, his thumb finding your clit with ease and expertise. 

“Wettest pussy I've ever touched.” You can tell he's a little lost in the heat of the moment but it's okay. So are you. 

Fuck. 

It's been way too long since someone else touched you this way, so you all but melt at the circles he draws on your clit. He paid close attention before, because he's touching you just the way you like it. 

“That feels so good…” 

“Yeah?” he asks, dark eyes finding yours before a particular stroke forces you to close them. And then he gathers enough slick to insert his ring finger inside and you can't help the moan that slips past your lips. 

You lift your hand to cover your mouth, but Mingi clicks his tongue in feign disappointment “I want to hear if I'm making you feel good, love. Don't hold back on me just because this is unconventional.” 

The worries die altogether with that. 

And now that you have free reign to stop containing yourself, you don't know how to stop. 

It's not long before his index joins his other finger but he doesn't go for it right away. He fucks you slowly, allowing you to get used to the unfamiliar stretch of his way longer, way thicker digits until they slide in and out with little effort. 

His pace picks up after what feels like ages and your hand fists his shirt for the second time tonight, nodding and moaning in encouragement. 

“Deeper,” you instruct “curl them upwards and go deeper, you'll feel it then.” 

He obeys immediately, his chest heaving and his mouth parting in delight when he finds it. The pad of his finger presses down on it tentatively and your grasp on his shirt hardens.

“Is that it?” you nod and he does it again, which earns another moan “What do I do now?” 

Before you completely get lost in the feeling, you decide to drop the step by step bullshit aside and give him the full instruction in hopes that he'll remember it all without fucking up: “What works for me is pressing… Fuck, yeah, just like that a-and then…” you take deep breath “Just a little harder… Yeah, then rub it in a circular motion while maintaining that same pressure… Fuck, Mingi!” 

He's a little too good at following instructions, because he touches you like he's been doing this forever and soon you feel the familiar swell, the usual buildup of it all and he's taking you over the age like it's nothing. 

You forget how to speak, you forget how to tell him what he needs to do next and so, when you finally explode, you take his wrist and place his two fingers over your clit. 

When you move them side by side, he lets out a fascinated giggle but knows exactly what to do. 

A second later, your release is coating your thighs and the towels underneath you and you don't register anything else because your ears are ringing. 

Did you lose consciousness for a second? It feels like you did. 

That was the best fucking orgasm you've ever felt in your entire life. 

And when you come back down, you only register the sound of your breathing and plump lips kissing your face, his fingers stopping their pace once he realizes you're done with it. 

Opening your eyes, you stare at your popcorn ceiling for a second. Then, you look at Mingi who's already staring at you with a what the fuck just happened expression. 

It makes you laugh. Softly at the beginning, post-orgasm bliss takes over but then Mingi laughs too and your whole chest swells with inexplicable pride. 

You don't think twice before kissing him again. When you realize you did it, you pull back and blink at him like he didn't make you see stars three seconds ago. 

“That was…” his eyes do the thing he usually does. You never notice it until now, but he scans your face so frequently you've grown used to it, but now… It feels different. His teeth nip his bottom lip and he shakes his head before speaking “Come here, love.” 

And then he's kissing you again, slow, intimate, beyond the stupid lesson you just taught him. 

But you don't mind it one bit. 

You sit up, getting on your knees on the bed and basically forcing him to do the same. Ignoring the gross sensation of the wet towel underneath you, you pull him further into you until his chest presses against yours, until his hands roam your body and settle on your waist, securing the embrace. 

This time, when you pull away, there's this whole unspoken new thing between you. 

“That was…?” you press, smiling a bit, pulling both you and him back to reality. 

Right now, with you half naked and his hard-on pressing on your belly, it's not the time to discuss your feelings. 

“Possibly the coolest thing I've seen,” he starts, giggling when you roll your eyes “and the hottest thing I've seen, too,” you shrug, dismissing his stare because it's making you feel hot all over your body, again “and I'm really, really grateful you said yes, love.” 

The soft tone he uses to say the last bit relaxes you and you nod, deciding it's not the time to tell him you never even came like that on your own. 

Instead, you decide to grasp this intimate moment and extend it as much as you can. You can see Mingi is not expecting it when you reach his sweatpants and let your shaky thumb trace the outline of his cock. 

Closing his eyes, he lets out a pleased sigh before he grabs you by the back of your neck and rests his forehead against yours. 

“This is supposed to be purely educational, Y/N” 

“Is that what you want it to be?” you softly ask, pulling your hand away but then his hips buck and chase after your touch, making you smile despite the emotions swelling in your chest “Let me help you… Please…” 

“Fuck, don't beg me, love.” 

“Don't make me beg, then.” 

What the fuck are you even doing? 

“Y/N, I—” he stops suddenly and you're too lost in the moment to notice why. 

But then the sound of keys and a door closing downstairs scares the fuck out of you and you push Mingi away without thinking it through. 

He lands with a thud on your bedroom floor, next to your discarded clothes. 

“What the fuck, Y/N?” he whispers-shouts, both shocked and offended, but you're getting off your bed and picking up your clothes and the soaked towels so you don't really care about his feelings right now. 

“Bathroom. Now.” 

You're so blessed for having your bedroom right next to the upstairs bathroom. And so blessed that it is your bathroom and you don't have to share it. You’ll get on your knees and thank your gods afterwards, but right now you can only think one thing.

Don't get caught. 

Lord knows you'll never hear the end of it if Mingi walks out of here with a hard-on. Your dad will kill him, your mom will cheer because she loves the idea of you and Mingi together and you'll probably pack your bags and move away if it happens. 

When you lock the door behind you and make a quick show of putting your underwear and pants back on, you hear Mingi chuckle. 

“We can always tell them we're having a sleepover, Y/N, you didn't have to karate kick me off the damn bed!” 

“Hush!” But he just keeps giggling at your very obvious flustered state.

You're about to rip him a new one when he takes two strides, backs you against the bathroom sink, and catches your lips in a quick, sweet kiss and all your worries dissolve just like that. 

“Guess they didn't go for drinks after all..” 

“You think?” cocking your head to side, the smile on your lips can't be fought at this point. 

He returns it and leans in for another kiss, longer this time and you sigh against his mouth before pulling away because you really, really shouldn't be doing this right now. 

You hear your mother calling your name and then footsteps up the stairs. A murmured she must be sleeping and a hum from your father before they pass the bathroom door. You truly only relax when you hear their door closing at the end of the hallway. 

“Okay, we're safe now.” 

“When were we ever not safe?” 

“When I was half naked on my bed, Mingi!” 

He shakes his head with a smile and takes a step back. 

You clear your throat. 

“I really did want to help you out but—” 

“Raincheck?” he asks and at you hesitation to say yes, he continues “If you want to. If you don't, it's okay. We… We'll figure it out, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He smiles again “Good, uh…” 

Mingi seems unsure on what to do next. Feeling the same, you decide the best thing to do is to get him out of here. 

Opening the bathroom door, you carefully peek into the hallway, taking his hand in yours and beckoning him to follow you down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. 

“Shit, your shoes…” you whisper. 

“I don't think they noticed if they didn't barge into the bedroom to check on us like they usually do, love.” He returns, in the same tone. 

That does nothing to ease your mind, but he makes sure to put them on quickly and then grabs your shoulders, shaking you in a teasing manner. 

“Quit worrying, Y/N. I can feel you thinking.” 

Of course he does. There's no one, in this world, that knows you better than him. 

It makes your heart flutter and it shouldn't. But you're getting on your tippy toes and stealing a parting kiss before you think about it too much. 

It's irresponsible for you to do so, but Mingi grabs your waist and extends the duration of the kiss and suddenly you don't give a fuck about your parents or anyone else finding out about this… shift in your dynamic. 

“See you tomorrow?” he asks against your lips and you nod. 

“See you tomorrow.” 

And with that, he leaves. 

You lock the door and practically run to your room after. 

What the fuck have you done?

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated and since it’s an open ending (sort of), let me know if you want a second part! 

© jensthwa, 2024.

[delicioushottubpeanut]

♡ babysitter

oneshot - inspired by that one edit

fandom: five nights at freddys (movie)

paring: mike schmidt x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw 18+, dry humping, sexual tension, kissing, friends to lovers, cumming in pants, submissive mike, foul language, teasing, smut, riding, dom reader, consensual sex, age gap, minors dni..

You've heard a lot about him from Abby, mainly bits and pieces that she's told you, but nothing really about him and the only thing he really says to you is that he's eventually going to pay you back. But you always refuse.

The old couch squeaks softly as he sits beside you, a gentle hand goes to reach your face but hesitates.

He’s been very busy for a while now that he has started his new job at a security guard that was shut down ages ago. When he comes home he's always so tired, like he's a different person. As if he cannot relax. You hear the door open and slam back as it he closes it.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't hear you come back.." You whisper, groaning whilst you move out of the position you had been in for a while. Yawning as you gently wipe your eyes.

Mike looks at you, half-smiling as he leans against the cushions. He's tired, you can tell. "Sorry if I woke you, you looked exhausted, so I just wanted to cover you," he whispers back, stretching his arms. "Did Abby go okay for you?" he asks.

"I told her it's bedtime an hour ago, but you know how it is with little ones." You joke.

"Abby was great, she missed you, though.." You smile sheepishly, shifting on the coach to face him. "How was work?" You ask, seeing the slight bags under his eyes.

Mike chuckles softly, leaning his head back and letting out a deep sigh as he stares up at the ceiling.

"It was long," he sighs. "I mean, I've gotten used to it, of course, but god, it's draining..." He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, looking off to the side and fiddling with his fingers, trying to find the right words to explain what just happened at work. He seems hesitant to say.

"You okay? You can talk to me if something is bothering you." Hesitantly placing your hand on his shoulder, slowly forcing him to look at you. You've known him for years due to babysitting Abby, but he's never opened up.

"Well... it's just..." Mike sighs again, still not meeting your eyes. "...Abby asked me some questions about stuff today."

He rubs the back of his neck, shifting in his seat as if he's about to say something and then thinks better of it. He leans back against the coach, letting out a frustrated grunt as his eyebrows pinch in frustration. "I... I just can't tell her."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" You whisper, staring at him, waiting for a response.

Mike's face softens a little, looking over at you before he sighs, shaking his head. "It's nothing. Abby asked about the job, and... well, it got me thinking..." He shrugs his shoulders again, still looking off to the side.

"Look, I'll tell Abby about it myself, I don't... I shouldn't put it on you..." He sighs one again, staring at the floor.

"If you need me, don't hesitate." You place your hand on his thigh, squeezing it for reassurance. Gaining confidence, you slowly move your body off the couch and sit on his lap.

"Oh..." Mike says quietly, his face turning bright red as you place your hand on his thigh. He looks down at you, his expression of uncertainty on his face changing as his eyebrows rise.

He's speechless, frozen in shock at your touch, and his entire face is practically bright pink. He's suddenly a lot warmer, his chest heaving as his heartbeat picks up speed. "... Y- you're..." he says with the last of his breath, his brain having trouble finding the right words to say.

"Is this okay..?" You grind against his lap, whispering against his ear.

"Shit..." He stammers, his brain desperately trying to process what you're doing. He looks confused, his eyes drifting down to you as his mind races.

"What... what are you... n- no, it's... we can't..." Mike stutters, trying to find a way to reject you. But the longer you're in his lap, the harder it is for him to say no.

"Just relax, Abby is fast asleep in her room.." You grind harder against him, using your index finger to tilt his chin up, making eye contact when you suddenly hear him whimper.

"T- this isn't the time..." he mumbles in response, his eyes closing at the sensation and his whimpers becoming more noticeable.

"W- we shouldn't be doing this..." he whispers, his arms hesitating in the air for a moment before they eventually wrap around your waist. He's still torn between going along with it or saying no, his heart racing as he gazes at you.

"Beg for me to continue." You stop moving your hips, feeling his arousal throb against your ass. Wanting to see how he would react.

"P- please... God.." he whispers, the breath catching in his throat and his voice turning raspy.

He looks at you, his eyes pleading, his body quivering under your control. His heart is pounding out of his chest. He swallows, looking up at you as his entire body screams for you to keep going while his mind fights back.

"You can do better than that.." You tease, breathing against his neck, gently creating bruises as you feel his slightly breath hitch.

Mike whimpers loudly when he feels your bites, his muscles tensing as he tries to relax.

"H- I- please, don't stop..." he murmurs hoarsely, sounding completely different than you've ever heard before. He whimpers again, his head tilted back as he tries to hide the pleasure in his face. He can't believe what he's doing, but he can't turn away.

"Good boy.." Slowly reaching to take off your top, revealing your covered breasts as you start to grind against him, pushing your panties to the side, creating a wet spot on his jeans.

Mike looks down at you, taking in the view as your top is removed, his face getting even pinker as his heart races.

He swallows nervously in response to your wetness, his eyes trailing down your body before they eventually turn back to your face. His cheeks are bright red, his breathing heavy as he glances back down at you, looking into your eyes as you look into his. He takes a long, drawn-out breath, his entire body quivering with anticipation.

"Just take what you want, Mike, no one is stopping you.." You tease, eagerly watching his reaction.

"I- it's..." Mike starts to say, but he can't say no to you, not right now. He leans back, pushing himself deeper into you like he can't help himself, the breath catching in his throat as he takes in the sensation. His eyes are closed as he tries to ignore his own morals.

His eyes snap open, his lips parted as he whispers, "More.."

"You close?" Whispering seductively, moving harder as you feel your climax coming fast.

"Oh, god..." Mike breathes out, his face red, and his eyes roll back into his head. He moans, bucking his hips up against you, feeling himself come close to release as he cums in his pants, feeling you come down from your high.

[messylustt]

can i plllllleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaase have a bubbly reader offering miguel a hug (as a joke bc hes grumpy) and he says no at first but later on when hes rlly upset abt whatever he puts his pride in his pocket and asks for one??? i know tht man is touchstarved a good hug might fix him

wait shut up. this is adorable :((

A HUG? — miguel o’hara + reader: everyone knows that your bubbly nature offers everyone hugs. but no one expected miguel to accept one.

marks fluff. that’s literally it. maybe a bit of angst. wc 1.5k.

pt one. pt two. pt three.

“and why are you so grumpy?” you slid across the bench, as miguel sat, minding his own business and eating. he doesn’t spare you a glance as you just rested your hands on your elbows, tilting your head with a smile.

“what is she doing?” gwen asks, from her farther seat, next to hobie, pavitr, miles, and (occasionally) peter. they are all staring at you and your bubbly nature.

“ah, let her figure out how antisocial he is.” peter shrugs, adjusting mayday’s spider beanie.

“i think she already knows.” miles says.

“that’s probably why she’s over there. to “cheer” him up.” pav adds.

“good luck with tha’” hobie lightly chuckles, resting back against pav as he swings his legs up, watching what he’d call a “show”.

“you look like you could use a friend.” you say, finally making miguel look at you. his expression was the definition of ‘indifferent’. your smile didn’t fall. “or maybe an acquaintance you can talk to?”

miguel’s expression doesn’t shift. you nod. “imma have you figured out soon…i promise.” your eyes slightly narrow in an inspection of him. then he turns back to his food.

“it’s going well.” pav sarcastically comments back at their table, making hobie scoff.

“you know…” you say, fingers lightly tapping the table. “there’s things that can help with being moody.”

“i’m not moody.”

“ah huh!” you softly cheer. “you spoke. progress.”

miguel looks exasperated as he shuts his eyes. He just wanted to enjoy his empanada.

“but you wanna know what will help?”

“i’m not…moody.” he repeats a little slower, to make sure you heard.

“yeah you are. but it’s okay. cause you wanna know what will help?”

“you clearly want to tell me.” miguel breathes out.

“mhm.” you smile. “a hug.”

miguel shifts his gaze to you, blinking a few times.

from the farther table, the spider gang is still thoroughly invested. “oh shit, he looks annoyed.” miles comments.

“what do think she said?” gwen asks, resting against the table.

“tha’ he looks like a wannabe gangster.” hobie says, now rocking his leg slightly back and forth as he watches.

“a hug would help. it helps me.” you are saying, still staring at miguel, smiling.

miguel clicks his jaw, before he’s standing, muttering to himself.

“let me know!” You call to his leaving form with a chuckle.

;;

later that night miguel is pacing his office, just back from a mission that went terribly. The anomaly got away. and miguel is beating himself up inside. how could he let that happen?

you’re walking down HQ’s hallway, looking for something you had dropped. as you scanned the floor, you hear muttering that reminded you of earlier today. miguel.

you stopped by his slightly cracked open office door. you carefully knock. miguel swings it open, sighing upon seeing you. “now’s not a good time.”

you smile. “don’t worry. i just want to ask if you’ve seen a pen.”

“a pen?” miguel’s brows furrow.

“mhm. i lost it.” you reply. “you look stressed.”

“i’m not—“ he takes a deep breath. “i'm fine. and no I haven’t seen your pen.”

“no worries.” you begin to back away. “let me know if you see it though. it’s got a weird blue design on it.”

miguel’s mind is whirring for some reason, as he finds himself calling for you to stop and turn back around. “did you mean it?” he muttered it so quietly that you almost missed it.

you’re now walking back, eyeing him. “mean what?”

miguel’s tongue pokes out against his cheek, feeling his entire body drenched with exhaust and self pity. and putting his pride away he says “a hug.”

“a hug?” your smile has widened. “i thought you weren’t moody?”

“i’m not. i just— you know what forget I asked.” miguel goes to turn away feeling stupid, but then you’re reaching forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, with a smile.

at first miguel doesn’t know where to place his hands, but you stay put, just resting your body against his, as your cheek slightly squishes up against his shoulder. then miguel slowly—very slowly—wraps his arms around your midriff, and hugs you back.

miguel doesn’t what to admit that his body has instantly relaxed upon feeling yours against his. your hand had begun to softly soothe the top of his back. just drawing in slow circles, that makes his muscles stop their tensing.

and that hug wasn’t the last time it happened.

now miguel would secretly search for you. big on the ‘secret’ part though, because he can’t have anyone else knowing he likes to hug you. no that would cause too many implications and destroy his well thought out ‘in control’ demeanour.

so when he’d find you walking alone—something he noticed you did a lot. and after he’d make sure that you were both in a desolate enough place, he’d softly grab your arm, pulling you somewhere even more desolate before he’s wrapping his arms around you in a much needed hug.

you didn’t mind. hugs had always been your love language with family and friends alike. though you were surprised by how often miguel would now seek you out, just so you could rest your head on his shoulder and draw patterns on his back.

he claimed it was just for relaxation and that you shouldn’t have offered him a hug if you would’ve asked so many questions. so you let him, his own hand having gradually drawn its own patterns on your waist.

he liked hearing and feeling your breathing. your breath by his ear sent almost cleansing shivers through him. and the feel of the rise and fall of your chest against his own made his usually racing heartbeat calm down to match with yours.

he liked the calmness your body gave him. and deep down he knew he now craved it.

;;

you were all in a different universe. gwen, miles, pavitr, hobie, peter, mayday, miguel and you. jess had to take care of another mission so miguel very clearly claimed how he’s stuck with you all, his scowl very present.

it was midway through trying to catch this anomaly when miguel’s gaze gets caught up in a man and his child. and as you stopped, noticing his focused gaze first, you identified the man and child as miguel and his daughter.

you didn’t know much about miguel’s daughter. just that in his universe she had died. and now as miguel watches a variant of himself with a variant of his daughter he can feel his body tensing.

he’s never had the misfortune of seeing variants of his family before. and now really wasn’t the time to dwell and sink deeper into his mind but he just can’t help it.

“is he okay?” whispered miles to peter.

peter shakes his head. “but there’s nothing we can do about it. no one can take him out of episodes like this.”

because everyone could see that inside miguel was fuming, so close to exploding that everyone had almost taken a step back.

you stared at miguel, watching as his chest heaved with a racing heart.

you remember one time he had muttered to you, head in your neck. you weren’t sure if you were actually meant to hear it or not. but he had said how your breathing slowed his breathing. or something along those lines. because after he had said that he had drawn you in tighter, keeping his large hands around your body.

so now you edge closer. and this could be a terrible idea, you realise that. your friends seem to as well.

gwen hisses your name quietly, watching as you edged closer to the ‘beast’ or how everyone else was treating him like.

you all needed miguel to focus to capture this especially dangerous anomaly. you couldn’t have him trapped in his mind teetering on the edge.

so you continued to walk forward, and as everyone stared in shock, you carefully wrapped your hands around his neck in a hug. you did so very lightly, to give him any room for rejection. you were actually waiting for the rejection.

but then, to everyone’s shock, miguel wraps his arms around your waist, just like every other time. and he’s found you fit against him so nicely, it felt so comfortable. your heartbeat was against his now, and the slower tempo made miguel sink into your neck, his arms now engulfing you.

shocked now isn’t a big enough word. because you were hugging miguel. and it wasn’t the ‘you’ part everyone was surprised by. it was the ‘miguel’ part. he was clearly eager to hug you back, and they all watched as miguel practically became putty in your hold.

yes. miguel craved your hugs now. and there was nothing you could do to stop him from bringing you in and keeping you close. you were now his comfort and he a wasn’t going to let that go so easily.

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[luv4berry]

Can you pls make one abt miles and yn getting into a very heated argument and she slaps him for saying smth outrageous and then she leaves and he climbs into her window after a few hours and tries to work it out with her

anything for you.

earth 42!miles morales x fem!reader

SUMMARY: you go over to miles practically drenched in another man's cologne, and he jumps to conclusions all too quickly.

GENRE: fluff to angst to fluff.

WARNINGS: bickering/arguing, physical contact made by reader, jealous miles, cursing, kissing/making out, suggestive (?) miles calling women females (this needs a trigger warning in itself), CORNYYY

AUTHORS NOTE: yo why this tumblr shit lowkey fun? + this is my first request agagaa thank you!! omg and i hit 200?? and my eyes only is almost at 2k notes wtf r y’all onnnn?? anyways thank you for requesting! i didn’t make miles say anything too outrageous just so he could redeem himself later on, hope you like it!

“you look so good,” your boyfriend says for what seems like the 100th time today, his large hands immediately dropping to your bare waist, fidgeting with your waist beads as he leans in to mold your lips, a smile gracing his face when you return his affection.

“all mine.” he mutters as he intensifies the kiss, his hands approaching the waist band of his boxers that you’ve claimed as your own. when he lifts your feet off the ground, the heels of your feet lock around his back, a giggle escaping your lips when he lays you down on his bed. you pull away from him, laying the palms of your hands on his chest to keep him away when he pursues your lips once more.

“miles, we can’t make out all day.” you giggle, running your manicured fingers down his chest.

“says who?” he buries his head in the crevice between your neck and shoulder, leaving wet kisses along the space when he suddenly pauses.

he removes his head from the crevice, sitting up to which you follow.

“baby,” you hum in acknowledgement, “where’d you go today?” he questions you, a hint of an indistinguishable emotion in his voice.

“just here, why?” you question him, running your nails up and down his neck. a look of confusion immediately sweeps over your features when he calmly removes your hand from his body.

“cause you smell like somebody been rubbing all up on you.” he looks you up and down, leaning in to now smell your clothes, hair, neck, anything within the perimeter really.

he pulls back, “who were you with?” his expression solidified.

“nobody, i swear i don’t know why i smell.” you reason with him, genuinely confused as well.

“oh? so the smell just magically took over your hair and your clothes?”

he completely gets up from his position next to you, hovering over you. “y/n, i know im not tripping, who the hell was rubbing up on you and why’s the smell so strong? that’s what we doin’ now? and then you got the audacity to bring your ass over to my house, lay in my bed, and wear my clothes.”

“what are you implying?” you scowl at him, now rising to your own feet.

“im implying that you forreal out here fucking on other dudes when you got a whole ass boyfriend.”

the next few moments go by swiftly and mindlessly, but the scorching sensation left in the palm of your left hand enables you to process what just happened almost immediately; you slapped him. though, not an ounce of regret filled your tank of emotions, adrenaline being the only identifiable one.

“i don’t know who the hell you’re talking to but it can’t be me, how dare you?” you glare at him, the imprint of your palm already making its mark on his face, the surrounding skin blemishing. “when have i ever done something like that to you?”

“today, apparently.” he mumbles under his breath, caressing the skin of his cheek to soothe the discomfort.

you look at him like he’s just grown 3 heads before silently walking over to the corner of his room, pulling his graphic tee over your shoulders. you immediately lunge it at him, same with his boxers, bracelets, his necklace, anything of his that is currently making contact with you. you zip up your navy blue hoodie, slipping your sweatpants over your bare legs.

you bring your tote bag over your shoulder, making your way towards his window which he currently guards, glaring at you from where you stand.

“miles, get the hell out my way before i pop you in your mouth next.”

“i want his name and address, you not going anywhere till i get an answer.”

you flail your arms in his face, “are you deaf or just stupid? there is no “him” because the only person i been rubbing up on is you!”

“baby, i don’t smell like no cheap ass cologne.”

“don’t call me that, move!” you raise your voice, stepping up to him.

“what’s his name?”

“you’re crazy.” you scoff, instead bolting for the front door. you’re mindful of mama rio cooking in the kitchen, slipping past quietly as to not raise any suspicion. though, you do bid her a quiet farewell, yet even when you slip out the front door with a smile on your face she knows something isn’t right by the way miles isn’t trailing behind you.

“miles, qué pasó?” she calls out from the kitchen, wiping her hands down her apron and subtly knocking on her sons door before entering.

“it’s nothing.” he calls back, digging his cheek into his pillow to prevent his mother from spotting the blossoming blemish. he didn’t want to explain how he got you so worked up that you slapped him to his mother, or anyone for that matter.

“it’s nothing? invite her over for dinner tonight.” rio arches her brow, taking a seat next to her son on the bed.

“we aren’t on good terms right now.” he sighs out, rubbing his hands over his eyes.

“even more of a reason to invite her over, right?” rio says, making her way out of his bedroom before miles could come up with a rebuttal.

he lazily grabs his phone when it pings, though when he realizes the message is from you, he throws it on the floor until the phone pings with a second message. he groans loudly swiping open your messages.

one attachment

next time don’t make stupid assumptions you dick

the photo captioned was of a half empty cologne bottle you had probably found somewhere in your home, miles heart immediately dropping to his stomach.

okay, maybe he fucked up a teensy tiny bit.

when you got home, you racked your brain for a possible explanation as to why you smelled like anything other than your boyfriend. you were stumped till your brother had walked past you, the aroma that had gotten miles so worked up earlier clouding your senses immediately.

you lay on the pad of your tummy on your king sized bed, your irritable mood causing a burning sensation to spread throughout your body. though it may not be displayed through your face, you were absolutely livid. after all you’ve done for him, this is what you got in return, his unprecedented allegations.

sure it was reasonable to be suspicious, but to outright accuse you? you’ve never given him any reason not to trust you, reassuring him whenever he needed it. had your words not been enough? what about your gestures? what about the times you’d cuddle up with him in bed, sleepily muttering words like “im yours,” or “i belong to you, miles.” had that not been enough?

your jittering thoughts are interrupted by a newfound presence in the corner of your room, the peripherals of your eye capturing those twin braids that you adore so much.

“nuh uh, get the hell up outta here.” you sit up, pointing back towards the window.

“deadass?” he raises both brows, staring at you dead in the eyes.

“deadass.” you return the gesture.

“nah.” he climbs into bed with you, settling his arm over your waist.

“im being serious miles, get out. don’t touch me either.” you pick up his arm as if it’s diseased, laying it over his stomach.

“you don’t like it when i touch on you?” he says in a sultry voice, and you roll your eyes.

“ma, listen to me,” he grabs your chin meeting you at eye level, your brows still furrowed out of anger. when your eyes meet his, any foreign sense of anger evaporates from your system, turning to putty in his hands, no matter how much you tried to fight it.

“you’re so pretty baby,” he kisses your downturned lips once.

“why you look so mad?” he ignorantly questions you, kissing your lips once more.

“baby smile for me?” he squishes your cheeks, yet he’s still met with silence till you finally part your lips.

“this isn’t helping your case by the way.” you roll your eyes at his obvious attempts to bribe you.

“alright, what if i came to you smelling like some other female? you wouldn’t like that huh?” he attempts to reason with you.

“i came to you smelling like my brother? and even then if you came to me smelling like some girl i would conduct a thorough investigation first.” you side eye him.

“how was i supposed to know it was your brother? i didn’t even know he was back.”

“he got back this morning, i gave him a hug and he must’ve rubbed off on me.”

“you didn’t tell me all that. so what i gotta do for you to believe im sorry, hm?” he climbs on top of you, following your darting eyes with his own.

“buy me a pandora bracelet.” you joke.

he perks up, “on god? baby i buy you jordans every other day, the hell is a bracelet?”

“i mean i was joking but you serious?”

“you didn’t know that i’d do anything for you?”

“you’re corny boooo, leave me alone.” you push his head away from yours, your facade breaking when a smile plays at your lips.

“y/n?”

“hm?”

“why do you hit so hard?”

“what do you mean?” you ask him, your outburst from earlier had completely left your mind. he turns to the side, and your eyes widen as they lay upon the imprint of your hand slowly fading,

“oh shit,” you wince, inspecting the damage of your earlier actions.

you throw the blanket off your legs, sitting on your knees to inspect further. you silently grab his hand, heading towards your bathroom as you slowly feel guilt begin to stir inside you.

“stay here.” he watches as you disappear into the hallway, coming back with a frozen pack of peas. you hold it up to his cheek for him, fiddling with the ends of his braids as you repeatedly check for signs of the bruising going away.

“im sorry miles, i shouldn’t have hit you.”

he hums in acknowledgment of your apology, parting his lips to speak. “it’s okay, i like them aggressive.”

a smile threatens your lips, your hand going up to cover your mouth to keep your false facade up.

“nah why you keep smiling?” he grabs your wrist, pulling your hand down to stare at you intently.

“stop that.” you attempt to straighten out your face.

it’s silent for the next few moments as you adjust the frozen peas seeing that the bruise had almost completely faded.

“y/n, you know im being forreal when i say i’d do anything for you, right?”

“yeah, i know.”

love, berry.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Beekeeping age [Dilf!Konig x fem!Reader]

You're ex-boyfriend is an asshole, so you decided to fuck his hot military dad instead. You're going to find out why his first wife ran as fast as she did, very soon - but Konig is still the best dick that ever happened to you.

CW: Daddy kink(obvi), power imbalance, possessive Konig, perverted Konig, age gap(Reader in her early twenties, Konig in his early forties), mentions of cheating(your ex is a douchebag anyway), slightly obsessive Konig, size kink, unprotected sex.

FIRST PART (can be read separately) AO3

— Why your wife left you, again? 

You stuff your face full of…something. He cooked it – gods did he cook it well. It’s meat and vegetables and spices, and it feels like your dad cooking but twice as good. It feels like pure sin because he says you shouldn’t worry about calorie counts or how fat the meat is, or how good everything tastes fried because he needs his special girl to feel good and healthy and fatten up a little bit, and you…gods, you’re down. Bad. 

You wonder if König’s wife left because she couldn’t compete with his cooking. You wonder if his wife left because he was feeding her too good. 

— Why don’t we leave uneasy questions for later, Schatzi? 

He brushes his hand over your hair, taking in the way you look – dressed up in his shirt, skin covered in bites and bruises from his hold. He can’t see it right now but can almost testify to the way your lipstick was all over his collar – good thing he wasn't wearing his uniform shirt, wouldn’t want to make dorks from Kobra jealous. 

He brings you another plate, he fills your glass – you never knew beer could taste this good, but he whispered something about having his own little homemade brewery for wine and beer somewhere in the mountains, in his Summer house. This man has a hug apartment in Vienna and a Summer house – you think you heard him having enough land to go hunting and to keep bees, and you might have cum a little bit just here and there. 

— I would like to know the story, actually. To not repeat her mistakes, you know. 

— You won’t, Liebling. I can already picture you with a ring on your pretty finger. 

— Not so fast. Maybe I don’t believe in marriage. 

— You’re too young to stop believing in it. 

— Way to talk when you’re the divorced one, sir. 

— Shut it, Schatzen. I can still take care of a good girl like you, ja? König leans in to kiss you, his lips brushing over your mouth – it’s wet and swollen, he bite you quite a few times already, and you feel dizzy just from the way his tongue lingers just a second before going in, taking your arousal even more. His hand gently brushes some hair from your face and you giggle from the sensation of his rough fingers on the softness of your skin. It never failed to mesmerize you, just how seasoned and old the colonel might be – and his hands would still tremble as if he is handling the finest porcelain doll in his hands. He has the expression of an anxious, devoted follower – you are not sure how his wife could left him. If he was looking at you like this every day, even as you go through with pregnancy and a piece of shit kid like Paul, you would die before leaving him. 

— Could you two please stop fucking each other? 

— I thought you wanted to move to dorms.

— This is my house too!

— Not on the documents, it’s not. — You can’t just throw me away, dad! — Your new stepmom needs her space. 

König grasps your shoulder as you try to stop them from arguing again – it’s embarrassing enough that you’re fucking your ex’s dad. Colonel makes it a whole fucking show, parading you around as his controversially young girlfriend, making sure that his son will hear your moans and whimpers as you get fucked at every surface of this apartment. You were wondering if you could ask him to move to the Summer house – even with your college and all. You can take a gap year and write a journalist investigation about lonely veterans and their mastery at brewing alcohol. You can take a gap year and try your best in the new trophy wife gig. König’s hand is firm on your shoulder – you know better than to try and argue with him, the silent recognition of authority loud in your head. You sigh, trying your best to just stop yourself from acting too damn weird. It’s their male thing, and you’re just an intruder in a big T-shirt and old leggings. König said it wasn’t his wifey’s – that he burned all of her stuff when she left. Somehow, you find peace in that statement. 

— How could you even…Jesus fucking Christ, this is disgusting. She is my age! — And the most beautiful girl in the world. I can see why you liked her. — She is my girlfriend! — Schatzi came to me in distress and begged me to take her. I think we both knew you weren’t…the best option. You feel more embarrassed with each second of their conversation. You don’t want to listen, you don’t want to take in their words, you feel like a trophy being discarded between two different winners. You feel like a prized mare on a farm – and they won’t even look at you. Too distracted by the sound of their voices, you eat your dinner in somewhat somber peace because you need to eat, after all, and you really like what König cooks. You like what König does most of the time. All of the time. 

Paul storms off the room after a few minutes of bickering. You feel guilty for not stopping him because he was still kinda your boyfriend. You ex-boyfriend. Your asshole incel-ish ex-boyfriend whose assholless literally made you go and sleep with his dilfy dad, and…god, you feel like a whore. Good. Paul was calling you a whore a lot of the time, you may as well take the new name and plaster it in your new badge. 

König’s hand lingers on your back, caressing it gently. You whimper because you feel bad and you’re still in college, and Paul’s disgusted reaction reminds you that fucking a guy in his forties isn’t the best business decision. Even if the said guy is a retired colonel with shitload of money, even if he still goes to work sometimes, just because he wants to feel cool and shoot guns at bad guys, even if this guy buys you cool gifts and he promised to renovate your car or buy you a new one, and he makes plans and takes you to places that don’t make you feel like begging for attention. 

If anything, you feel like he is drowning you with attention. 

His hand lets go of your shoulder – he was holding you so tight the whole conversation, you can sense the bruises forming on your skin. You lick your lips, and he moves to kiss you again. You feel like drowning, you feel like this is all just a dream – and you’re also drunk because gods, König knows how to make a good glass of…something. 

— You shouldn’t act like this. He is your son. 

He laughs dismissingly. He dismisses a lot of things you said – you think it’s the age difference. You think he is just being traditional, and you don’t want to be too nagging. You don’t want to end up like his wife and wake up from the dear you’ve been seeing. 

König’s lips are soft, and you can look past his hands, taking you too possessively – you can close your eyes, and you can just listen to his accent, smiling as his tongue worms its way into your mouth. He is good, you think – at this whole kissing thing. At this whole “Hi there, I’m a retired old dog and I am fucking the girlfriend of my only son. I’m divorced btw” .

He has experience – you know it when he tucks your lip between his teeth, when he massages your shoulders as you spread your legs already, so wet for him, it’s almost embarrassing. You never slept much with Paul – his poor excuse of a son – it was always never enough lube, it was always never enough attention, he always needed you to shave or to leave your hair to grow a little bit, it was either your perfume being too sweet or you no wearing anything at all. You thought he would have much more fun masturbating to his anime chicks and poor gaming sessions with his friends. 

But König isn’t like this – every time he drops on his knees to eat you out like a man starving, you feel utter and complete devotion. In his tongue, in his mouth, in his teeth as he sucks little marks into your thighs, making sure you will remember it tomorrow when he will ask you to stay for breakfast and then ride you to whatever you need to come next. Last time he promised to drive you to the library, he took a few turns and took you to some restaurant instead. You gushed about not having proper attire, he was still in his half-uniform and rocking dark cargo pants, and he was apologizing every time his fingers hit that special spot in your cunt as he fingered you during the second course of meals. He said that he was so, sorry about not fucking you properly, about having to resort to public displays like this – and you were too high on loving him to care. You still are. — I don’t think we should be…

— He left. Won’t bother us anymore. 

— I’m not in the mood right now. 

— You’re always in the mood, Schatzen. Enough to drive me crazy. — You’re a pervert. Like Paul. 

— He takes on after his father, ja?

It would alarm you how much contempt he had for his own child right now. Then, again, you were the one who dumped his son for the powerhouse of a dad. Maybe it was your daddy issues, maybe it was your dumb reasoning and the summer break that you didn’t want to spend with your family. Good thing you’re spending it with the other. 

König’s face is buried between your legs, his teeth tugging on the soft fabric, forcing your leggings down. God, it feels good – he is so high on wanting you, can’t even wait to take off your clothes properly. You never had a man wanting you so badly before – it’s addicting, it’s crushing, it makes you feel like a goddess among men. Makes you feel wanted, a thing that your ex never did. 

You forget about guilt when he kisses your lower tummy, when his lips trace down to your cunt, taking sharp licks through your panties. You wore them this morning, something from a new lacy set he bought – one of the only ones that weren’t torn off from your body the moment you took them on. He always wanted you to make these little fashion shows for him, making good use of his money – you weren’t a sugar baby, not on paper, you still clutched to the last traces of your dignity, but he did buy you a lot of gifts. 

— S’ pretty for me, Liebling. The prettiest girl in the world.

— I assume after…af..ter your wife. 

You giggle when he frowns, his rugged face filled with concern. He doesn’t like jokes about his marriage – you don’t want to ask him about it because it would mean waking up from a dream you want to experience over and over again, but you heard what Paul was talking about. What his mom told him about. you heard enough to know that kissing a man like König is a safety hazard and a liability that you can’t afford, but it’s warm, and he is rich, and you don’t want to go back to your part-time job this season. You want to be dumb and you want to be young – right now, you’re doing both. — Don’t be so dumb, Schatzi. Although it suits you. 

— I’m not dumb! 

— Nein, you’re not. Just silly. 

— You just call me a different type of dumb. 

— I like it when you’re dumb. Makes you cuter. 

König is awkward and funny, and he buys you things that you could never afford. He is mysterious and kind – to you, not his enemies – and he uses German words randomly in his phrases because he knows the accent, and the pronunciation drives you crazy. You never thought of thinking of yourself as a dilf hunter but, hell, here you are. With his dark ginger stubble – and grey streaks that make you go wild every time you look at him – between your thighs. It’s tickling, and it’s a bit irritating, and he will rub some calming lotion in your skin after this, making sure to cover every inch of your skin with some expensive cream that he knows jackshit about, but you wanted it, and so he went out and bought it. Gosh, you felt dumb even asking him for this. 

He traces his kisses along your thighs, tongue lingers to press against your wet, swollen folds. Flirting in front of Paul made you embarrassingly hot, solidifying you as a shitty, bad, horny person who needs fat cock stuffed in your leaking pussy. You lick your lips, and you tremble when he pushes his tongue inside. He is starving, pushy with all of his needs – makes you almost beg for it, like a pet he took from the street. 

— I want to take you to the Summer house next week. 

You open your eyes, shocked. It’s nothing, really, you shouldn’t be this surprised about him wanting to show off his other properties. You want to check out his wine cellar and how sturdy the furniture is. You want to see if he had deers running around the house. If he had any pictures of his family – and if you could ever hope to compete with his ex-wife. It’s a petty competition, but you don’t have much to do and to think about. It’s obvious the love here won’t last until the end of the break, and you want to get as much from it as possible. Maybe even some hot bikini picks at his pool. He has to have one. — What if I have plans, sir? 

It’s innocent and you play the role well. You think some of your friends wanted to hang out or make a study group for the upcoming semester. You are a good girl at heart, with nice grades and a perfectly played-out future, and not as many working opportunities as you may like, but you could manage with something. Writing a killer essay about your life with a smoke show during Summer would be easy with someone like him. 

He laughs, his hand lightly smacks your butt. You bite your lip and whimper, not accustomed to pain feeling this good. 

— You will change them, little one. For the whole Summer. 

— I wanted to study. 

You moan when he lightly presses his tongue on your swollen clit, kissing and licking it. Slick runs down your legs, and he collects it with his mouth. You whimper again, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes – the sensation is sudden and overwhelming, makes you get your hands in his hair and slightly tug. He groans, pleasure from having you so active, so participating is overwhelming. He loves you, loves you, loves you, adores you. God, you’re beautiful. And so, so restrained – just his special good girl. Only for him. — You can study at our house. 

— You mean you and your ex’s house. 

He smacks you again for the foul language – although you know you didn’t even curse, he is still punishing you. In the lightest way possible, of course, you know you won’t handle anything too harsh – still, you feel nice and warm when he isn’t just eating you out, but also smacks you for speaking in such unpretty words again. 

You don’t even register the way he called the house yours too. All too dumb for this, again. 

— I mean our house, Schatzen. Just you and your daddy, ja? You worry too much about studying. 

— I want a nice job. Without…distractions. 

He slips one finger in your warm, tight hole – even just one digit is enough to make you shiver, clenching it like a sloppy whore. He is big in every way – just two of his fingers are bigger than a normal cock, and no, you didn’t want to compare a son with his father, but even Paul’s cock, as big as it was, was still way thinner than his father’s. 

— Why you need a job? 

— Not everyone are retired military. I need money. 

— You have me. 

— I d…don’t want to be a sugar baby. Sir. 

— I have no problems with being your daddy, Schatzen.

König is build like a powerhouse – when he slips just the tip into you, ignoring all previous preparation because, by god, you both need to feel connected, he is dragging you on top of the table, tossing aside the dirty dishes with remains of his perfectly cooked dinner…and you feel like home. Almost. 

You imagine waking up with his cock every morning, and with the nice cup of coffee only he can make. You imagine him gushing about rebuilding the house and working on his tight and neat desk job at the mercenary company – something about instructing, dumb recruits, only the most elite missions as an operator in retirement, creating strategies and tactics for the warfare – and thinking that, wow, your husband is really cool. You shouldn’t be thinking this because this is just a summer fling. Your relationships with Paul weren’t too serious either, you just didn’t want to be alone. 

König gently caresses your fingers, whispering something about numbers – you think you could recognize the word for a ring a bit later when he was making a call to some friend. In German, of course, you don’t quite understand it, but you worm your warm on his lap like a spoiled cat, purring on his crotch like a good fucking girl. But it was a while later. 

Now, you’re gasping and panting, his cock spreading you open and stuffing you like the poor bird he was cooking for dinner. You know you won’t be able to walk after a short while – would probably have to spend the day at his house, with him cooing and gushing about your sore body while he is quietly proud of himself. If you’re lucky, you could convince him to let you go in the evening. If you’re not, he will ask you to stay the night, and maybe even a bit more, and then he will just get the bag with your stuff from your room in the dorm by himself, and then… — What do you think about getting married in August?

Maybe, you do know why his wife left him. 

[ellieslob]

★cheerleader x pervy!loser ellie

+warnings: stalker ellie, voyeurisim, dub-con???, a bit of degrading, smut

+ kinda inspired in she by tyler the creator and frank ocean, and bottoms, ngl

ways to help palestine!!!

REBLOG!

pervy!loser ellie staring from outside of your window, hiding between shadows and bushes, pressing her thighs together, trying to concentrate only on your moans, not on the disgusting growls your stupid junkie boyfriend was making, she was indecisive about taking a real look, or staying with only your beautiful sounds, either way, at this point, her panties were soaking wet.

god, she was pathetic, 

to say the least.

one of your moans turned into a scream, a pornographic sound that went directly to her untouched and desperate clit, shit was almost throbbing. she couldn't help it, her eyes went further into the room, the bed squeaking as he pounded you, you were riding him, the reverse cowboy position only made ellie’s view more enjoyable, she could barely see something out of that piece of shit, not his stupid face, not his repulsive body, just his dick, sliding in and out of your abussed pussy. you were facing completely towards the window, towards her, your room didn't had curtains and still, you were comfortable showing your almost naked body, only your bra on, getting railed like a fucking slut and opening your legs for her, stroking your covered tits, brushing your clit so desperate,  your littles whines of distress when not even that could bring your climax. ellie got fucking pissed, that dip fuck not only was making you do all the extra work, he wasnt even fucking you right, sure, he was doing the bare minimum, but she could see in your expressions that he wasn’t hitting the right spots at all, you were a crying mess and all for the wrong reasons.

your hand got tired and you tried to move a little, you finally opened your eyes and caught her, staring directly at you, her eyes filled with fear and horror.

fuck.

she should have stayed at her fucking house masturbating only to your instagram stories or something, shit, shit…

shit.

you weren't screaming or throwing things at her to make her go. you didn't stop moving, you didn't take your eyes out of hers.

you knew that little fucking weirdo, always stayed late at the gym and stared at every single one of your practices, but not to all the girls, no; it didnt matter how curvy, how showy or how pretty the girls were, she never looked at them, her eyes seemed to be glued to your body, the feeling of her gaze scanning when you bend over and tie your shoes, was kinda exhilarating, hearing her things fall and hit the ground when she noticed you were only wearing a thong, was definitely funny and her little coughs to try to recover from it? you had to admit they were kinda cute, soo pathetic, but kinda cute.

so when you saw that fucking pervy bitch hide by your fucking window again, like she had been doing the last couple of nights, you begged your stupid useless boyfriend to fuck you right there.

ellie saw your hands creeping to the lace bra, a smirk crossed your soft red lips, you threw the item directly to her face, she catched it in the air, and rushed to push it on her nose.

smelled fucking amazing.

“fuck!” those were the first words you had said in the last thirty minutes, you pushed your hips against the ones that were fucking you, ellie stood a little higher, eager, wanting to touch you, to actually touch you in the places you needed her. you saw her hand slip down her cargo pants, your moans got higher, damn, at this point you seemed more desperate than her. “faster.” you demanded, the dumb fuck thought you were talking to him, but ellie smiled, and she moved her own hand quickly, bitting her lip, your hips started moving like crazy and your little shy and mostly acted moans became so raspy and loud, whines that almost sounded like cries for help. 

actual tears were going down, you were almost drowlin’ as you kept fucking yourself roughly, shit, you were about to cum, for the first time in the night, ellie mouthed “your clit” and you reached it furiously, both of your hands were moving at the same pace, both of you were looking at each others lips, mouths opened lewdly, wishing you could reach them and kiss.

“fuckfuckfuck, yes baby” your eyes struggled to not get closed, you needed to look at ellie’s face, to her eyes being almost rolled out, her desperation, you wanted to keep that picture forever in your brain, but you were cumming hard, god, it was the best orgasm you have had in a long time, the brunette was a hot mess, all blushed and biting her lip to bleed, her hair was tangled and sticked at her forehead, her hand was moving briskly under her underwear and her brown eyes almost begging you to cum, so she could.

fuck, she was fucking sick

and still, you wanted her to be the one under you, so she could touch your nipples, play with them until they hurted, so she could edge you, so she could spank you and kiss you, put her tongue in yours while she pounded on you.

and you could hear her moaning in your ears.

“ellie!” you were dumbfucked, couldn't think about anything else but your climax and hers, that followed yours immediately, but at the same time your boyfriend heard you and looked instinctively at the window, catching a glimpse of the brunette´s face before she picked up her pants and started running.

“what the fuck, was that creep whatching us? are you okay? you must have been like super freaked out”

you blushed, covering your breast with your hands, trying to recover from the orgasm “yeah, it was… super fucked up”

[libbyfandom]

Drunk Modern!Mizu with a Breeding Kink

(((Yup. I don't know what to title this short fic other than that. I let the demons win.)))

(((This turned out to have a bit of spice, a bit of fluff, a bit of my sense of humor. I will say it doesn't get smutty smutty but Mizu sure has a mouth on her. And she's determined.)))

You’re shooing Taigen and Akemi out of your apartment with a tipsy giggle at 2 am. Akemi turns and squeezes you in a warm hug. “Good night, doll! See you later!”

Taigen flashes you a peace sign before Akemi leads him, swaying and all, toward their Uber to take them away.

You watch them climb inside the car before closing the door and locking up for the night. You head into the kitchen, picking up the last of the beer bottles and tossing them in the trash.

You head into the living room where you last left Mizu, only to find her sprawled out on the floor with an arm thrown across her eyes. There’s a pink flush across the middle of her face.

“Too much whiskey, sweetheart?” you chuckle as you approach her.

“Fucking Taigen,” she mumbled, trying to angrily growl but it just sounds slurred and tired. “Fucking…drinking contest.”

You crawl over her, sitting on her hips. You do have to move carefully though, you’re just a wee bit unsteady from the amount of alcohol in your own system. “You could’ve just said no,” you hum.

Mizu remains silent. She’s probably telling herself she won’t grace your soft snark with an answer, but it’s actually cause she really doesn’t have a comeback for that.

Her arm lifts slightly higher, and she squints down at you. Her eyes drift to where you’re sitting atop her hips. Her legs shift under you.

She’s… really staring intensely at how you’re sitting on her.

You start to lift yourself up on your knees. “You good? Does it hurt?”

Mizu frowns as your weight leaves her. “No,” she says, and grabs your hips to pull you back down. “...It’s nothing.”

But you know that look. She gets it every time Taigen got under her skin about something.

“Nothing? Like a “just thinking” nothing or a “Taigen pissed in your metaphorical thinking cereal” nothing?”

Mizu’s nose scrunches up in disgust. “What?”

You press your hands to Mizu’s chest, bouncing a little for emphasis. “What. Did. He. Saaaaay?”

Your tone and actions were meant to be lighthearted, but something flashes in Mizu’s eyes when you bounce yourself on her hips. Her eyes flash back down to where you’re sitting. Her hands instinctively grab your hips to still your movement. The pink flush across her cheeks and nose seem to darken. “Fuck,” slips out from between her lips. She shakes her head. “S’ just being stupid and gross.”

You noted that little change in her voice. “Like what?”

Her thumbs run over the jut of your hips. “Some girl he hooked up with. Talking about how she had an IUD and let him cum inside.”

You sigh, “Jesus Christ, of course.”

“He’s gross.”

She keeps shifting her hips under you. “Are you sure you don’t need me to get up-?” You start lifting yourself again.

“Stop moving,” she says, and the flush on her cheeks doesn’t die down. She tries to look annoyed, but you can tell the minuscule differences in her expressions. That’s a pout more than a scowl.

You laugh breathlessly. “What’s got you so worked up?” You tap her totally not pouting lip.

She grunts, grumbling a little as her hands massage where they’re gripping your hips.

“Don’t be all huffy with me. Tell me,” you coax with a grin, your own tipsy flush complimenting your wide smile.

She rolls her head back against the carpet and is silent for a minute.

The amount of whiskey currently killing her liver is the only reason her inhibitions are loose enough to say it.

She mumbles something.

“Mizu-“

“I wanna do that.”

Your eyebrows raise into your hairline, lips parting with surprise. You need to clarify just in case you're misunderstanding. “You want to-?”

“I want to cum inside you.”

The raspiness of her voice is even grittier from the whiskey.

Holy shit.

Her irises are darker than normal, the bright blue having more the tint of stormy waters.

And whether it’s the liquid courage or Mizu’s determination to barrel through things to push through her fears, she keeps going.

Her hands are heavy as the slide up your sides. “I want to have something that I can slip inside you-“

Your heart is pounding harder in your chest from her words, her actions, the heat of her frustrated gaze. “You have several strap ons-“ you joke, but your voice is weak and airy.

“I want to feel you from the inside.” She makes a frustrated grunt, “I don’t want plastic. I want to feel you wrapped around something other than my fingers. I want to stretch you out-“

Her palms dig into your stomach. Her blue eyes flick up and meet yours, and you almost fall back away from her with how much unfiltered desire is in them. Her own breath is shallow, you can see how silently but rapidly her chest is rising and falling.

“I want there to be risk that I forget to pull out.”

Holy shIT-

“Mizu-MIZU-!”

Her hips bucked, throwing you higher up her waist with her strength. Your hands fly out to catch yourself, and your fingers hit her shoulders as she’s suddenly sitting up, face inches from yours. She’s supporting your weight in this position, hands and feet flat on the floor as you’re the unsteady one in so many ways. She looks irritated, like when she can’t bend something to her will no matter how much work she pours into it. But she also looks slightly mournful. Genuinely upset.

And very, VERY drunk.

She looks up at you with furrowed eyebrows. “I wanna see it dripping out.”

You gasp loudly as her teeth snap into your neck. It’s not a love bite, it’s possessive. It’s stinging.

But Mizu, being the complex and non one-note person she is, does let go and licks at the reddened skin in apology. “I want to leave myself behind. Inside you.” She nuzzles her nose below your ear, huffing.

Your brain is just on lag, taking several moments to catch up with each of her revealed desires. “And…” you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. “And if you got me knocked up on accident?”

Her arms squeeze tightly around you, burying her face in your shoulder. She’s silent for a heart pounding moment, you can actually FEEL her heart pounding with yours.

Her lips drag along the skin behind your ear. Her voice is low, dark. “Wouldn’t be an accident.”

Someone needs to take whiskey away from this woman. Or give it to her more. You’ll decide if you survive this encounter.

“Mizu-“ you don’t even know how to finish that sentence. You’re just… you don’t even know. You think you hear a faint ringing in your ears.

Her left hand dig into your side, gripping the fabric of your shirt. “Would you keep it?” she asks so softly.

“I-“ your brain is still on that fucking LAG.

Her breathing is slow, shuddering against your ear. “I wouldn’t make you, if you didn’t want to-“ she sounds so pained to say it your heart squeezes. You actually forget for a moment that that’s never gonna be an issue for you two.

Her grip on your shirt relaxes, before curling the fabric between her fingers tighter, clinging to you. “I’d just… beg for you to think about it,” she makes a wounded sound.

You swallow again, throat clicking. You’re becoming aware of a heat low in your abdomen growing warmer and warmer.

She holds you tighter against her, and her hips start rhythmically rolling up against yours like she’s mimicking how far she’d push inside to get what she wants. She’d work so hard for it, putting in all her time and energy and her unwavering determination-

“It’s selfish,” she’s murmuring against your skin, warm lips having traveling down to your neck. “But I’m selfish. I want it. I want it so much. I want to know there’s a little us-“ one hand goes between your bodies, fingertips pressed up under your naval like she’s obsessed. Her voice is strained. “I want to know it’s inside you. They’re inside you. I want to know they’re safe and warm. You’d keep them so warm. You’re always warm-“

You have never, in your life, ever heard Mizu babbling like this.

SHE’S STILL ROLLING HER HIPS UNDER YOU.

You finally grab her face with both hands in a rare moment of clarity to still her, forcing her head up to look at you in this haze of body heat radiating from her, from you, radiating everywhere between your bodies.

“Baby.”

Her head lolls back, looking up at you and oh my god. She is just gone. Her red cheek flush has spread to her whole face. Her lips are wet and parted, breath now audibly heavy. Her eyes, her eyes, her gorgeous blue eyes are now a storm. A dark, hot storm.

“Let me put a baby in you, dove,” her voice is strangled, slurred worse than you’ve ever heard as her half lidded eyes gaze at you.

Jesus, she’s bringing out the rare pet nickname she’s so desperate.

And just when you think Mizu is done shocking your system with this new side of her, her expression crumbles into the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Please?”

She’s pleading.

What the fuck was in her whiskey?!

“I’ll-I’ll take care of the two of you. Keep you safe. Just let me- just let me-“ she lifts her hips up under you again, as if trying to tempt you into it. She hiccups. “Just spread your legs and I’ll do all the work.”

With strength she should not have while she’s absolutely smashed, she lunges forward, shoving you to the carpet with your legs spread around her waist. Her hot breath fans over your face, tinted with whiskey. She wets her lips. “Have my baby. Say yes.” Her hips press down into yours again. She whispers your name.

You’re tempted to say yes, despite still being sober enough to remember the logistics of this. She makes a very persuasive case. And it’s not just cause she’s grinding into you like she’s warming up to do it.

"Say yes..."

Click!

You both slowly look up (you more tilting your head back) as the front door opens and Mizu’s roommate Ringo comes in. He freezes in the doorway, seeing Mizu crouched over you in a very interesting position with your legs still spread by her thighs.

She scowls at him. “You said you weren’t coming back tonight!” She sways over you.

Ringo blinks. “Mom has Bingo in the morning,” he says innocently. “… did something happen?”

“She’s pregnant,” Mizu hiccups, before passing out atop you without warning, shoving a strangled noise out of your chest as you yell for Ringo’s help.

“Oh? Congratulations!”

“….Wait…?”

“RINGO HELP!”

In the morning, Mizu drags herself into the living room looking like she was just brought back from the dead, face drained of color and eyes squinting at the light behind her tinted glasses.

“Hi baby,” you greet her softly, cautiously as you watch her head to the kitchen, aiming for the coffee pot.

“Hi,” she groans. “I’m never fucking doing a drinking contest with that bastard again.”

You nod, “That sounds good."

You pause, "Do you remember anything from last night?”

She shrugs as she passes you. “Barely.” She disappears into the kitchen.

“Oh,” you turn toward her retreating back, propping your chin in your hand as you lean against the back of the couch. You wait until she’s out of sight to oh so innocent call out “I wanted to ask about how you were begging to impregnate me.”

Several loud crashes in the kitchen.

[sebscore]

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader (she/her pronouns)

warnings: angst. angst. angst. swearing. like a lot of swearing. i cannot write crashes/contact for the life of me. argument. lando and reader are assholes in this. 

author's note: dont even ask me why i wrote this, i got inspired and needed it out of my system. lol. 

masterlist

''Retire the car. Too much damage. Sorry, Y/N.'' Marco informed her over the radio, sounding frustrated and apologetic over her already finished race. 

The driver took a deep breath before answering. ''Too bad, it was going well. Thanks, guys.'' 

Her race had in fact been going well. She'd made a great start going from P4 to P2, and had managed to keep up with the Red Bull of Max. They weren't even halfway in the race or Lando tried overtaking her, causing contact, causing her to run off in the gravel with too much trouble on the car to continue. 

In her opinion, it had been reckless. The McLaren driver knew exactly she would end up being forced off the track by the overtake, and that her race would most likely be over because of it. 

As she trudged back to the garage, helmet in hand, she could barely contain her frustration. The team greeted her with sympathetic looks, but she didn't stop to talk to anyone. She headed straight for her driver's room, needing a moment to cool off before she could face the media. 

Her hands trembled with anger as she peeled off her gloves, tossing them onto a nearby chair. The season hadn't been going how she had hoped or even expected it to go. Last year she had been the vice World Champion, the undisputed second-best driver on the grid, the only one to essentially have been able to challenge Max's dominance. Now, she got lucky to even end up in the top five of a race. Her team's design of the car hadn't been meeting the expectations the engineers had set, and upgrades weren't helping in the way they had hoped. 

That is why this race weekend had been a great boost for the team's morale and confidence. Qualifying had gone really well, and for a moment they were able to fight for the win even. But the papaya car of No. 4 had shoved their hopes down the drain. 

Minutes later, there was a knock on the door. She turned to see Marco standing there, looking concerned. ''You okay?'' 

''Have I ever been okay,'' she remarked, a sarcastic chuckle leaving her lips. ''I'm just pissed, that's all. I had high hopes for today.'' 

''We all did,'' he smiled sadly. ''The stewards reviewed the incident, but he, uh, didn't get a penalty.'' He said softly, almost as if he was afraid of her reaction.

The young woman let out a bitter laugh. ''Of course he didn't, why would he?'' Her hands covered her face, briefly wiping off the sweat that had formed. 

Marco took a step closer, his expression a mix of empathy and disappointment. ''You drove brilliantly out there. Everyone saw it. The team saw it. It's just... racing politics sometimes.'' 

She dropped her hands, meeting his eyes with a mixture of anger and resignation. ''It's always like that, though. It's always the same drivers suffering the consequences of others, and they don't get shit for it. It is fucking annoying.'' 

Her engineer nodded, understanding everything she was saying. ''I know, we all know. But we keep fighting. We keep pushing. This season isn't over yet.'' 

''Yeah, true.'' She sighed. 

Marco gave her a reassuring smile. ''We'll be ready for the next race. We're all in this together, okay? We're all behind you.'' 

She nodded, feeling a small measure of comfort in his words. ''Thanks, I appreciate it.'' They shared a quick embrace, before he left to join the team again. Meanwhile she got herself ready to go to the media pen. As much as she wanted to hide away, she knew it was part of the job. 

Since she had an early exit, there wasn't much activity inside the area, though there were a bunch of reporters waiting for her. 

''Y/N, tough race today. Can you tell us what happened from your perspective?'' The reporter asked after briefly greeting her. 

''Yeah, it was, uh, challenging, I guess,'' she plastered a smile on her face. ''We had a great start, moving up to P2 and keeping pace with Max. Then, yeah, the contact with Lando. The car had a bunch of damage, and we decided to just retire the car.'' 

''Do you think it was a fair move by him?'' He followed up. 

She paused, weighing her response. ''Racing is always intense, especially at this level. I don't think it was the right move to make, but the stewards saw it as a racing incident.  I'll respect their decision, but it doesn't make it any less frustrating.'' 

''You and Lando are good friends, and have been racing against each other since your karting days. Will you talk to him afterwards or just forget about it?'' 

They had expected a question like this, so the media-trained answer came out very quickly. ''It was deemed a racing incident, so there is not much to say further about it.'' 

''How do you and your team plan to bounce back from this setback?'' The reporter for Sky Sports changed the topic. 

''We'll regroup and come back stronger,'' she answered, injecting as much determination into her voice as she could muster. ''This season has been tough, but my team and I are committed to pushing forward. We learn from every race, and today is no different.'' 

''That's great, thank you, Y/N.'' They wrapped up the interview, and she moved onto a new one. 

Once she had spoken to everyone she needed to speak to, she finally had a moment to herself. She knew the words she had just spoken were the right ones, but they did little to soothe the turmoil inside her. 

It didn't help that Lando managed to take the lead, and eventually get his first win. As she watched the remainder of the race from the sidelines, her emotions were all over the place. On the one hand, she was proud of her friend for finally making his dream come true. However, it had come at the expense of her race. She had pushed so hard this season, and to see her friend and rival celebrate his triumph while she stood there with nothing but frustration was almost unbearable. 

The cheers from the McLaren garage echoed in her ears. They celebrated wildly, the joy of his long-awaited victory palpable even from a distance. He was swarmed by his team as they shouted his name. 

The podium ceremony was even worse. As Lando stood on the top step, the British national anthem playing in the background, she couldn't help but replay the moment that had ended her race. She could see the excitement in his eyes, the genuine happiness that came with achieving a lifelong dream. But all she could think about was the contact, the gravel trap, and the wrecked potential of what could have been her race. 

Under any other circumstance, she would have been there for him. She would have run to the ceremony herself, just like he had done for her when she got her first win in F1 and made history as the first woman to do so. But it just stung too deep. 

''Lando, there was an incident with Y/N that resulted in her retiring from the race. Can you tell us what happened there?'' The Dutch reporter asked the race winner. 

Lando's expression shifted slightly, the euphoria dimming just a bit. ''Uh, yeah. I saw a gap and went for it. It was a tight move, and unfortunately, it led to some contact. But that's racing, you know.'' 

''Have you spoken to her yet?'' 

''Not yet,'' he admitted. ''But I don't think there is much to talk about.'' He chuckled, quickly glancing sideways, but his laugh seemed forced.

''She told Sky Sports that she didn't think you made the right move there.'' The journalist said, instigating a headline for them to be able to use. 

Lando frowned at his words, but recovered. ''Well, that's her opinion. It was just racing for me.'' 

''So you don't regret making the move?'' The reporter pressed on. 

The Brit took a deep breath before answering. ''I regret that it ended her race. But as a racer, you have to take chances. It's a fine line, you know.''

The older man in front of him nodded at his response, knowing they had gotten a glimpse of the tension that was present between the fan-favorite duo. ''Thank you, Lando. Congratulations again.'' 

''Thank you.'' 

With that, the interview wrapped up, and Lando moved onto the next reporter. As he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease. He didn't think he had done anything wrong, so why was everyone talking to him as if he had done something wrong? 

Y/N was struggling to unwind. The events of the day played over and over in her mind, each replay more frustrating than the last. She tried to distract herself by either watching some TikToks or TV, but nothing could drown out her thoughts. The texts from her friends, family and team certainly didn't help. It was a nice gesture, but she didn't want to think about the race anymore and the messages weren't helping. Finally, she decided to call it a night and climbed into bed, hoping sleep would offer some respite. 

Just as she was starting to drift off, another knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. It was unusual for someone to bother her this late, especially when she was winding down in her hotel room.

She frowned and got out of bed, opening the door to find Lando standing there, wearing his signature grin, acting nonchalant as ever. ''You wanna come celebrate with us? We rented a club.'' 

Y/N frowned at him, confused over his casual behavior. ''No.'' She scoffed, offended by the mere thought. 

It was now Lando's turn to frown at his friend. ''Why?'' 

She crossed her arms, incredulous at his obliviousness. ''Why? Are you taking the fucking piss out of me or something.'' 

His grin faltered slightly, but he tried to maintain his composure. ''If this is about the racing incident then you're being ridiculous.'' 

Her eyes widened in disbelief, her frustration boiling over. ''I am being ridiculous? You were ridiculous with that move you pulled!'' She retorted, raising her voice. ''You ran me off the track knowing how hard this season has fucking been for me. You know how much I needed a good result today and you ruined it for me!'' 

''Y/N, I get that you're upset, but it's racing. These things are bound to happen. I saw a gap and I went for it. The stewards didn't even penalize me, so clearly, it wasn't as bad as you're making it out to be.'' He was restraining from rolling his eyes, she could tell. 

She scoffed, shaking her head. ''Oh, so now you're agreeing with the stewards? Now that it is benefitting you? And there was no fucking gap, you were just being selfish. You knew what you were doing, and you didn't care how it would affect me.'' 

Lando's face hardened, his patience wearing thin. ''I didn't do it on purpose to screw you over, where the fuck are you getting that from? I saw an opportunity, and I took it. That's what we do out there. You know that better than anyone." 

''If that opportunity was ruining my fucking race, then yeah, you really took the opportunity, Norris.'' She rolled her eyes, voice tinged with sarcasm. 

He took a step closer, his frustration now matching hers. ''I'm sorry that you didn't get the result you wanted today, I really am. But I am not going to apologize for racing and doing my job, Y/N.'' 

She simply glared at him, disappointed in how he was acting towards her. They'd never really had an argument before, at least not one where they couldn't see each other's point. They'd been frustrated with each other before, but it was always in reason. 

''If anything, I should be angry with you- not the other way.'' Lando suddenly said. 

''Why's that?'' She sneered, almost in disbelief that he would have a valid reason. 

''Because you didn't even have the fucking guts to congratulate me,'' he snapped back, ''when you won Silverstone, I was literally one of the first people to hug you and congratulate you for your win. I stood next to your fucking parents, Y/N! And today you didn't even bother doing anything.'' 

Her mouth fell open, a mix of shock and anger flooding her veins. ''You are unbelievable… You ruined my fucking race, Lando! How am I supposed to stand there and cheer for you when you cost me everything today?'' 

He rolled his eyes while throwing up his hands. ''This isn't just about today. You're just jealous because my season has been going so much better than yours. You can't fucking stand that for one time I'm doing actually better than you.'' 

''Jealous… of you?'' The words came out like laughter, slightly hurting the McLaren driver's ego. ''You think I can't be happy for you because I'm not doing as well? That's so low, Lando.'' 

''Ever since the start of the season you've been so moody and distant, and now you can't even say or even fucking text me a congratulations for my first win. You're so pissed that I got a win before you this season, you can't even hide it.'' He shot back. 

''Oh, give me a break. Like you wouldn't act the same if you were getting all these shit results. Maybe I didn't congratulate you because I was too busy trying to scrape gravel out of my fucking tires.'' She remarked, throwing in the sarcastic comment. 

Lando looked unimpressed by her remark. ''You're just mad cause I'm outshining you. You can't fucking stand that I'm getting all the attention.'' 

''Outshining me? Are you hearing yourself?'' She mocked him, laughing bitterly. ''You get one win and you're acting like you're a fucking World Champion already. You've been riding Max's dick these last years hoping some of his success will rub off on you. Newsflash Norris, everyone is just fucking laughing at you.'' 

His face turned red, either embarrassment or anger. ''At least I'm not constantly whining about my car and blaming everyone else for my problems. Maybe if you spent more time focusing on your driving and less on complaining, you'd have more to celebrate.'' 

''You're a fucking spoiled brat who can't stand some competition. You think everything should be handed to you on a silver platter.'' She retorted. 

''And you're a fucking baby who throws a temper tantrum everytime you don't get what you want. It's time to fucking grow up, Y/N!'' He shouted, his voice rising with each word. 

She took a step closer to him. ''You should spend less time trying to prove yourself to people who don't give a shit about you, and more time trying to be a decent fucking human being. I'm ashamed to call you one of my best friends.'' 

That last sentence had clearly hit a nerve or several nerves. He shook his head, taking a few steps back. ''Fuck you, Y/N. Enjoy your pity party.'' Lando turned and walked away, joining his friends who were waiting in the lobby. 

She watched him go, her chest heaving with a mix of anger and heartbreak. She could feel the pulse of her racing heart, the adrenaline from their argument making her feel jittery and unsteady. 

A lump formed in her throat as she replayed the last few minutes in her mind. She cringed internally at the words she had fired at Lando, while also trying to ignore the sting from his own harsh words. She wondered how they would be able to come back from this. They had never been in a situation like this before, and she knew that she would never want to be in this situation again. 

The young woman knew that she had let her emotions get the best of her. She had always prided herself on being fair and understanding, but now she felt ashamed of herself. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of another door opening. George peeked out, concern etched on his face. ''Y/N, you okay?'' 

She shook her head, not wanting to deal with anyone else. ''Mind your business, Russell.'' She retreated back into her room, not before slamming the door behind her. 

As she leaned against the closed door, the weight of the evening pressed down on her. The room felt too small, her emotions too big. She slid down to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest, and let the tears she had been holding back finally fall.

Even when she finally got up, even when she tucked herself in again for the final time, and even when she tossed and turned the entire night, the same question lingered in her mind. 

Are they still friends? 

The question haunted her, gnawing at her thoughts every time she closed her eyes. She replayed the argument over and over, dissecting every word, every expression. The hurt in his eyes, the anger in his voice- it all felt so raw and irreversible. 

As the hours dragged on, sleep remained elusive. The darkness of the room mirrored the uncertainty in her heart. She knew they both needed time to cool off, to reflect, but the thought of facing Lando again filled her with dread.

The first light of dawn began to seep through the curtains, and she felt no more at ease than she had the night before. 

Are they still friends? 

story ideas are always welcome, but remember that it can take a while for me to get to it! :)

[svuguru]

Little sister reader who is, like, so weird about her big brother, Suguru. She’s so obsessive about him, always jealous of any girl that tries to talk to him, but she’s especially jealous of his girlfriend.

Whenever Suguru’s girlfriend tries to tell him that that’s not normal behavior, he just laughs and brushes it off, saying something like, “she’s just clingy,” or, “she’s just overly affectionate.”

And it’s a funny thing he says that because when his girlfriend isn’t around, Suguru is also overly affectionate, just… in a different way from you, you could put it.

“Look at that,” Suguru groans as he stares at your dripping pussy, patting the tip of his cock against your clit to make you laugh, and it works.

“Put it in already!” You whine, looking up at him with knitted eyebrows and a tiny frown on your lips. Suguru laughs and squeezes his dick before slowly inserting his tip into your sopping hole, a gasp immediately falling from your lips at the feeling.

“There we go, biiiiiiiiig stretch,” his eyes are glued to your pretty face, admiring the way it contorts with pleasure and just a sliver of pain from the size and girth.

You look down at where Suguru’s inserting himself, your lips parted as you take in heavy breaths. The whole time he’s pushing his length in inch by inch, his hand is caressing your cheek, soothing you and encouraging you to take it in soft murmurs.

“Look at you, good girl, you can take it…” Suguru breathes before a sharp grunt is pulled from his throat when he feels your walls clamp down on him. You reach for his upper arms, digging your nails into the flesh, crying and gasping the deeper he sinks his cock in.

Once he’s halfway in, he stills his hips, giving you a chance to get used to the feeling of his fat dick inside of your poor pussy.

“Look at you, so pretty,” Suguru coos, a playful grin on his lips as he looks down at you. You don’t say anything in response, too busy focusing on his girth enveloped in your wet cunt. “Can I move now?” He asks carefully, staring at your facial expression to see if he can notice any signs of discomfort.

“Mm, yeah…” you whisper, nodding your head slowly. Suguru leans down to land a kiss on your forehead before he begins gently pushing his hips forward, holding back a groan at how warm and tight your cunt is, drawing his eyebrows together when he feed you clench around him again.

“Shit, don’t squeeze me so tight,” he mumbles, dedicating all his focus on being gentle with you because he just can’t stand the thought of upsetting his poor, sensitive little sister who always has to do oh, so much.

[cryptidcasanova]

Lover Boy

Mob!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: It's the Bridgerton carriage scene, but make it mob!Bucky.

Warnings: Angst, light Smut, Language, Possessive Bucky.

3.5k

The poll results are in, and I couldn't help but think this might be a good way to remedy both sides.

You were mortified.

One hand fisted against quivering lips, and the other gripped at your clutch. As if anything else could go wrong tonight. Shaky steps guided you down the carpeted stairs.

There was another gala, another meeting of the power players in town. And it was another night wasted at the hands of James Barnes.

You hated how much you cared for him. You still cared for him even after all the stunts he pulled to pull you away from the Maximoff heir. Always had.

Ever since you were kids, you remembered having that love-sick look in your eyes. You grew up with inner-circle families and were friends with Rebecca, Sarah, and their brothers. And Bucky? Well, shit, he was always there with his dark hair and curious eyes. It was hard not to fall for him.

Even as you grew up, numbing yourself to the reality of the business and the choices that came with it, you couldn't ignore him forever. You knew that Bucky was raised to be powerful, honorable, and frightening. You knew the stories – of all the beautiful women who couldn't tie him down longer than a night or two. You knew how he flaunted some new girl at every event. It was hard not to overhear them whispering among the men.

'What about her?' and the laugh on his hips saying, 'She's just a family friend. Don't worry about her; I'd never be with her like that.'

You knew he would break your heart, and still. You loved him.

Again, mortified.

He was your first kiss on some lonely night when you couldn't help but ask him. But that had been ages ago. He was grown now, the head of the family and the king of his empire.

But there was something different about tonight, something predestined that started long before you stepped outside your door. It started out as Sam's idea weeks before, in the same bar where you ended up every weekend.

He wanted to try and get you to mingle among the local 'rabble-rousers' as if he pretended not to be one of them. Your laugh at his suggestion pulled Steve and Bucky's attention from across the bar.

"You want me to do what, exactly?" You teased. "Throw myself in the way of wealthy investors and scout out the competition? That's much more up Nat's alley; there's a reason why they call her the Black Widow, you know –"

"No, nothing like that," he shook his head, that charming grin on his lips. Once Sam got an idea, it took a lot of work to dissuade him. "Look, there's more to this life than watching shipments and making small talk with the hens in town." He paused, knowing all the time you spent logging backorders and saving face with the mercs' wives. "I want you to be happy. We all do."

You leaned against the bar, pressing your palms against the hardwood.

"So you think it's time for me to settle down?" You challenged with a smirk. "Get married to some silver-spoon jerk upstate?" Sam's smile turned close-lipped as he noticed the other's approach.

"We could help you find a good one." At least he sounded hopeful.

"In this town?" Steve overheard, tapping his beer on the hardtop. "You're gonna need all the help you can get."

Your sneaking suspicion grew as they hounded like vultures. You looked from Sam to Steve with weary eyes. The only one with less enthusiasm was Bucky. Bucky, who usually was primmed with pressed shirts, was tired. His hair fell into his face, his shirt wrinkled, and his tie long discarded at one of the tables.

"You want to help me find a man?"

Bucky looked to his friends with a hooded expression, letting his hand reach out before him. With the click of his tongue, he softly smirked.

"We'll help you find a man. Have we got a deal, doll?"

It was a business handshake, one full of promise. And as soon as you grasped Bucky's hand, one you'd come to regret.

You didn't expect their advice to work so well…or so quickly.  

At the gala, Bucky strolled over with that sly walk and pressed navy suit, conveniently carrying your favorite drink in hand after Pietro ordered you both dirty martinis. You never cared for the drink, but you weren't about to tell him that. But trouble started when Bucky slid between you with that close-lipped smirk.

"They must have made a mistake at the bar," He explained with a shrug. "I remember you liked these. Here, doll." Bucky said, swapping out the drink in your hand before sliding away. No one could fault you for your eyes lingering on him as he walked back to Sam and Steve.

Later in the night, when you were dancing along and finally falling into a rhythm with Pietro, Bucky interrupted again. It was the turn of the tides, the slow pace of the music building, until it felt like one of the underground clubs.

All the weeks spent flirting and learning more about the Maximoff family were crumbling before you. You were a fool to think it would last.

The music built to the familiar strum of old songs you used to listen to, and before you knew it, Sam, Natasha, and half the crew surrounded you on the dancefloor, pulling you away from your date. And it was all orchestrated by Bucky, leading them like a pack of wolves. You knew that look, the suave pull of his hand through slicked-back hair. And then, before you knew it, you were dragged away from the dancefloor.

"Hey," Pietro called over the music, pulling you to the side. "I like you. I do, but this isn't working."

"Wait –" You tried, reaching for his arm. But he was quick to deflect, and embarrassment warmed your cheeks.

"Whatever you're looking for," his eyes moved from Bucky and dropped when you noticed. He looked down with a sad smile. "Whoever you're looking for, I hope you find it."

It felt like a knife twisting in your chest.

"Please don't go."

But it was too late. Your plea was lost as he pushed himself away. Everyone saw it. All your friends' efforts and your attempts to find the one were wasted. Your feet carried you away too fast to notice the somber look Steve gave Bucky.

"You're running out of time, punk."

The city lights passed in a blur as a taxi drove you farther from the gala. The searing ache in your chest left you confused.

For years, you dreamed of Bucky Barnes, hope a dangerous feeling companion of yours. But you knew how he felt. You were nothing more than a friend; he had made that abundantly clear. But you couldn't cut the tether, even while someone else caught your interest. Pietro Maximoff was handsome and kind and loved his sister more than the world. But with Bucky's interruptions, it was no wonder why he didn't want to get involved.

But it still hurt.

A sob was swallowed back, but you couldn't stop the tears from rising. You were pitiful. It was the last time you'd ever ask the guys for help.

But the thought was gone with the sudden screeching of brakes. It made you hold on to the headrest in front of you. Trying to peer around at the commotion, you didn't expect to be cut off by two black SUVs. A moment later, a ringed hand banged on the taxi's hood.

"Get out of the car."

You knew that voice. And as you looked through the windshield, you could see Bucky Barnes peering back.

He was as poised as he was at the party, and the sharp look had you bracing the seat. The bitter spark of rejection caught the light, burning into brutal frustration. You didn't want to talk to him. You didn't want to see him. Not now.

"No."

He tilted his head to the side at the challenge.

"Get out of the fucking car." Bucky gritted. "I need to talk to you."

His voice was teetering dangerously into territory you had only heard about. It was his back rooms, no nonsense voice that snapped you back into the moment. Like hell it would work on you. So it was to be a standoff, one that that you weren't ready to back down from.

Once Bucky realized your position, he took a new approach. You could hear his intentional steps against the pavement as he reached the driver. He didn't say anything but dug into his pants pocket, his fingers flicking through his wallet smoothly.

"Unlock the car," Bucky ordered, pressing cash bills against the window.

The immediate click of the locks didn't help your bellyache, nor did the split second of peace you had before Bucky forced the door open and pulled you out of the cab.

"Are you crazy?" You barked, forcing him to release you as the cab sped off in the other direction.

But you were left in the middle of the road in Barnes territory, the sweep of their dark SUVs cutting off any chance to get out of this conversation.

"What's gotten into you?"

"I didn't want you to leave the party." He explained, his words softer now. "Not like that."

You couldn't believe him. You followed their advice to try and bag a good guy, but to what end?

"What?" You dared to challenge. "I don't know what you want from me. I'm not in the mood, James."

The curl of his name lingered, making your intentions clear. You never called him by his first name. And Bucky didn't like it one bit.

"Let me take you home."

As if you had a choice.

You choked on a frustrated snarl, wanting to hide and cry away your worries and wanting to claw at him like a villain. You hated it. You hated the pressure of his eyes, blue and dark against the night, to get in the car.

So you lifted your head high, took a steeling breath, and walked ahead of him. You were separated from the rest of the world in the backseat of his company car. The divider was a saving grace. You didn't want one of the drivers to see you like this.

But Bucky followed behind so quickly, getting in and closing the door before you could protest for space. You chose to stare out the window instead of looking back at him. The car lurched forward, and you took a moment to find balance.

"You're unhappy."

"No shit."

"Please," He started, turning his shoulders in toward you. Even out of the corner of your eye, you knew he wouldn't let this go. "Please talk to me. Don't close me out. I hated seeing you leave like that. Whatever Maximoff did, I'll fix it."

"You can't fix it!" You finally said, turning to him and gripping his shoulder in frustration. "You say you want me to be happy, to find someone, and then manage to scare off anyone that has the potential to do it." As your voice raised, heat radiated from your cheeks down your neck. His eyes were wide, listening to your grief. "He left because of you. It's not like you have feelings for me. What's the matter with you?"

You couldn't stand to look at him, not when he was so close. His cologne burned your nose, and you desperately needed him to get out of your system.

"Doll," Bucky breathed. He inched his way closer, not letting the anger of your words settle over him. "What if I did have feelings for you?" You would almost call his stare desperate. And then you confirmed it as his shoulders dropped, turning toward you. "It's all that I've wanted to tell you. And I can't see you with him." He admitted.

He moved with purpose all night, not intending to ruin your time with Pietro but to show you that he was the one who needed you. He should have been the one to hold you between dances and order you fine drinks. He should have picked you up so that you would never dare to get in a yellow cab.

But you weren't some wilting flower. You knew the risks of your following words.

"We're friends, Buck."

You held yourself together. You were strong and brave and gripping your heartstrings.

"Yes," He agreed. "But we…"

And for once, he was at a loss of words. The years wasted pining after him would finally be out in the open. You could finally be free of his torment. His eye contact was overwhelming; if he looked away, you would disappear.

"Look, We've been friends for a long time." And with an ounce more of bravery, you sighed. "But I'd like to be more than friends." You admitted. "I want to be so much more than that."

You were waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Bucky leaned closer in earnest, over the seat and bringing his face close. There was no teasing, no torment in his expression.

And with the tip of his chin, you were lost, pulled tight into a kiss and letting it blossom as cold metal snaked around your waist. You dreamed of his touch, and it burned down your throat like honey whiskey.

When you opened your eyes, Bucky had moved. He was no longer in the seat, now chest to chest with you. He was kneeling in the cramped space, the divider shielding you from the driver and the outside world.

"Do you know why Sam offered to help in the first place?" His words were slow as he pulled away, loud enough to hear. "Do you know why Steve jumped on board and corralled us to join? It's because he is tired of me dragging my fucking feet."  

"Bucky-"

But he closed the space for another set of slow kisses, deep and intentional.

"I've been an idiot." He admitted. "The guys know how I feel about you. I think they've always known." Another kiss as you pulled back, gripping the shoulders of his jacket. Expensive fabric under your fingertips, hot breath against yours. You were dizzy.

"And you agreed to help with this idea." You noted.

It wasn't a question, no challenge in your words. He agreed to help find you a man. Bucky took a hefty exhale.

"You know the business. It's not safe –" but you raised your hand with a groan, not buying his excuse.

Your fingers brushed over the curve of his chin, the sharp line of his beard a welcome sensation. God, you only ever dreamed of this. You savored the feel of him, your hand moving up his ear and combing your fingers through his air. Buck's eyes were darker than you've ever seen, his open mouth curving up in awe.

"'s not safe." He whispered. "I'm not gonna put you through that."

It was a weak defense. You knew the coterie of mercs, the warehouses, the shipments. You knew all of it and were aware of the danger. But it wasn't like you could cut ties and leave your life behind. You weren't sure you even wanted to.

"You wanted me to find someone else?" You dared to ask. The whisper died as he shook his head.

"All this deal did was make me jealous." He affirmed. "And tonight," His eyes raked down your frame. He never did finish his thought as lust washed over him. A breath passed between you two. "I never meant for you to hurt over it."

The limited space lets you mimic his actions, noting his heaving chest, blue eyes, and the pout of his kissed lips. How he kneeled down in front of you, crowding your space, made you dizzy. While your mouth curved up into a wanton grin, you couldn't help but chase another kiss.

Each touch melted the last of your anguish. The night was long forgotten as soon as he pressed forward, flattening you against the back of the seat. While you pulled up for air, his other hand moved to cup your chin. And then, with your eyes locked on his, he tilted your chin, eyes staring into the roof of the sedan as you felt lips against your jaw.

Hot, languid kisses burned against your pulse. The scrape of his teeth and burn of his beard drove you wild. And as he pulled back, his hand released your chin, following a mesmerized pattern down your skin.

The palm of his hand cupped your neck, down your shoulder, pulling down the thin strap of your dress. Your soft skin was on display, and Bucky's expression was wonderous. But his hand continued mapping, cupping the curve of your breast. A tactful squeeze left your head falling against the seat, a soft gasp on your lips, and your hand blindly reaching up to cover his. With a sharp breath, you found his eyes again. His pink lips were parted, eyes pleading with you.

You knew Bucky was a man of action, but this was uncharted territory. Your nod and an affectionate squeeze of his hand pulled him from his reverie.

He needed more, craving your skin. And as his hand fell from your chest to a solid grip on your ankle, you craved his exploration.

Shallow breaths were traded for deep, hungry kisses. Years of longing, of yearning for his touch and affection, finally were coming to a head. The brush of his tongue left your mind reeling, and regardless of the heat, a trail of goosebumps followed the path of his hand. Under your dress, he lingered over the smooth skin of your calf, over your knee, up your thigh, and to the meat of your hip. Rough, dexterous fingers carved prints into your skin hot enough to burn.

You refuse to miss a moment, eyes fixed on Bucky's as his palm covers the top of your thigh, the intention sitting heavy in your stomach. A live wire of nerves, you can feel him from the heat of your cheeks buzzing down to your toes.

And then, palming where you needed him most, your mouth dropped open with the softest of moans.

Bucky's eyes are wide, but it doesn't last as he finally lets himself get lost. As his eyes close, you admire the curve of his nose and his soft, dark eyelashes. But Buck is greedy, and as he peels his way under the cloth of your panties, you, too, close your eyes. Fingers are nimble, caressing your dripping seam under the dress.

You're a vision.

Convulsing under his touch, rogue pulls off his fingers drip honey down your thighs. Your breath is heaving, and your chest is dangerously close to falling out of the dress. Bucky finds refuge by rubbing slow, devastating circles against your clit. Every hitch of your breath and moan spur him on until you are staring at him with such reverence he thinks he'll collapse.

There's a magnetism, the long-lasting chemistry drawing you nearer to him. He swallows your moan as he slides a finger inside. You're in a desperate frenzy, pulling him close and arching into his body. He spurs on a need you've never had, demanding his smoldering kiss as you shake in his arms.

He's all you've ever wanted. You're crazy to think it could have ever been anyone else.

And then the car jerked to a stop.

There's a breathless laugh as he pulls away, Bucky's forehead resting on yours. You kept a hand on his cheek, thumb brushing his chin. Maybe, if you just ignored it, the outside world would go away.

That is, until you see a porch light turn on from your periphery. You try not to let embarrassment flood your system as you realize your situation, with one of your closest friends knuckle deep in the back seat.

Bucky doesn't share your distress.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, finally pulling his head back. Bucky smiled. His fingers lingered longer before pulling away, leaving you empty and wanting.

You must have looked as desperate as him, finally looking down at the brutal strain in his pants. But you had no time to overthink as his fingers carefully plucked at your dress strap. He was putting you back together, smoothing out the burn of his touch as he sat up.

If you begged, you were sure that he'd ravage you right there in the seat. But you tilted your head to look outside. You needed a distraction, anything to regain your good sense.

As you focused on the brownstone, you knew where he took you. You were in front of his house – the Barnes family house. He said he was taking you home.

"This isn't my place."

His smirk reached his eyes, and as he pulled open the door and jumped out, his gaze was fixed on you.

"For fucks sake, doll," Bucky's eyes were soft, still blown out. He held a hand out. "We've known each other our whole lives. I'm crazy about you. Are you gonna come up with me or not?"

And with an ardent stare, as if he hung the stars himself, you reached for his hand.

[nanaslutt]

i have another toji idea but this time he’s your bodyguard!

readers dad is a really rich businessman or something and reader is basically serena van der woodsen! she’s always out partying doing drugs and sleeping around so her dad hires toji to keep close eye on her. she’s not happy about it obviously!

reader is in college and toji is like i dont know in his late 30s!!

Bodygaurd!Toji x RichBrat!Reader

contains: fem reader, legal age gap, drug use, non con/dub con (not from Toji), voyeurism, exhibitionism, choking, dacraphillia, restraints, rough sex, so much dirty talk, daddy kink (sorry), teasing, sexual tension, brat taming, multiple orgasms, size kink, Toji has a big dick and knows what aftercare is :3

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

The club music around the two men was blaring, Toji could feel a headache coming on. "That her?" Toji asked, pointing to a girl who was laughing at some college boy's joke by the bar, swatting his arm playfully. "She's uh.. that one there." Your father spoke, almost too quietly to be heard under the music. He pointed to you, you who were currently adorned in a skimpy black nightgown-esc dress, the fabric being pulled over the curve of your ass and exposing your lacy black thong without a care in the word to the room around you as you sat on a boy's lap, ruffling his hair as you sucked on his tongue, his hands leading your hips as he ground you down on top of him.

Toji turned his head back to your father, an unreadable expression on his face. Your dad held up his hands in the air, waving them in front of him. "S-shes a good girl really, just a little.. misguided." He said defensively. You loved your father, he was the only man in your life who acctually cared about you and didnt use you for your status or body. The two of you had a wonderful relationship, the only problem was you were an only child, and your mom had died early on in your life, resulting in him spoiling you a little too much.

So when you started acting out, wearing skimpier clothes, doing drugs, staying out late, frequenting parties, and bringing a new stranger home to fuck on his couch every night, you didn't exactly take to his words telling you to 'maybe calm down' in the best way. It's not like he had been strict about it when he talked to you, he had been very sweet and understanding when you said you were 'going through something'. Your father's lack of disciplinary skills combined with how much love he had for you and the constant mindset to always keep his sweet little girl happy had resulted in your behavior getting worse and worse.

Which is where Toji came in. You had just finished up a new photoshoot for a major modeling brand and it had brought you even more attention than you had been getting before, meaning you were going out more, and frequently engaged in unsafe sex and use of drugs. Your father couldn't stand to see you like this, so he hired you a body guard without consulting you first, someone he had worked with in the past, someone he knew wouldn't take your shit, because he sure as hell wasn't going to stop you.

Toji stayed quiet, watching your body sway and move in a way that was clear to him you were under the influence of something. The man beneath you looked too sober, and the way he had started to manhandle your drugged out body made his eye twitch. Toji had known you since you were a kid, he started doing business with your dad when he turned seventeen, and he saw you around sometimes too, although you looked quite different back then. "Do whatever you have to do, I just cant stand to see my little girl like this." Your father said, placing his hand on Toji's shoulder before he checked the time on his expensive wristwatch, clicking his teeth.

"I have to go, please don't leave her side, don't let her bring anyone home, and don't let anything enter her mouth that isn't food or water, alright? I'll be back in a week." When your dad had mentioned not letting you ingest anything that wasn't food and water—referring to substances—he couldn't help but think that might include other people's genitals too. He just had a hunch from the way you had started to palm at the man's crotch underneath you. "Right, is it alright if I use force if I gotta?" Toji asked, squinting his eyes as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.

"Yeah that's.. that's fine.." Your dad answered hesitantly. Toji averted his gaze from you, turning his head to look at your father, he smiled. "Have a good trip, sir, Don't worry about your daughter, I'll stick around and whip her into shape for as long as you need me to." He reassured, before starting off in your direction.

Upon closer inspection, he could see your eyes were all out of focus, you looked like you didn't even know what was going on around you as the blond-haired boy roughly kissed your neck, starting to slide his hands down your ass, slipping his fingers underneath your panties. God, you really did look so much different from when he used to watch you lay on your stomach on the floor of your living room, watching your cartoons.

This new look didn't suit you quite as much, white powder on the table in front of you, girls and guys alike touching your skin wherever they could get in, drinks scattered around you, your bra peeking out of your dress as the strap slipped down your shoulder, your eyes rolled back in your head. He doubted you even knew the name of the man who was marking your neck. Hell, he doubted you knew any of the people around you. The people around you were too high off their asses to even notice Toji's presence as he stood right behind you, he was so close he could practically feel the heat radiating off your skin.

The boy under you looked up at him, pulling his lips away from your neck. "You wanna taste, get in line old man, 's how this shit works." He giggled, talking about you like you were some disposable inanimate tool. Toji grit his teeth, grabbing the boy's hand and stopping it before he could dip it any lower in your panties. "She's not even fucking here right now, you don't see anything wrong with that?" He asked, referring to how high you were. The boy was taken aback at Toji's sheer strength, "What the- let go of me man-" He tried yanking his hand away from Toji, but to no avail.

"Look- she fucking loves it its fine, ain't that right baby~" He asked, grinning as he took his other hand to grab your jaw, nodding it forcefully. You smiled drunkenly, your eyes all out of focus as he manhandled your head. "Alright, I've seen enough." Toji sighed, leaning down he picked you up with ease from underneath your arms and threw you over his shoulder, your ass being exposed even more—if that was even possible.

"What the fuck~" You slurred, eyes trying to focus on the constantly moving ground underneath you as Toji kept one hand on the small of your back, walking you out of the building. You felt dizzy and sick, the music was too loud, but you still felt the need to kick and scream at the man who was taking you away from the chaos. "Who the fuck are you? 'was fuckin' doing something back there.." You slurred, weakly struggling in his grip.

Toji stayed silent until he reached the exit, pushing the heavy wood open he took in the cool air of the night, the ice-cold oxygen feeling refreshing in both of your lungs. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, shooting a quick text to one of your drivers who was nearby to pick the two of you up, ignoring your 'hey- answer me''s in the backround. He slipped the device back into his pocket, plopping you down on the ground in front of him, making sure to keep a hand on your waist to insure you didn't fall over.

"Was it you I was kissing?" You asked, squinting your eyes at him as you leaned in, standing on your tippy toes you placed your hands on his solid chest to try to get a good look at his face. "I don't think he had black hair.." you slurred, losing your balance on your tippy toes, and falling back onto flat feet. Thanks to Toji's grip you didn't fall flat on your ass. "You don't even care do you?" He asked incredulously, keeping his tone steady as he let you grope his chest.

Toji took the opportunity to fix your appearance up a bit, pulling the strap of your dress back atop your shoulder so your bra was fully covered again; not like it made a huge difference thanks to how low the dress was, but he still wanted to give you some dignity; he used his large hands to slide down your waist, smoothing out your dress so it rested on your thighs once more as it should. His touch felt so good, it was a lot softer than the touches from the college boy's inside, you could work with this.

"Mmm, not really." You smiled up at him, biting your lip between your teeth as you looked him up and down. "You takin' me home to fuck me?" You mumbled, giving him a doped-out grin. "Not exactly." He replied. Seconds after, the car approached, and out came another middle-aged man who walked to the curbside and opened the door for the both of you. Toji held your waist as he walked you towards the open door. You stopped in your tracks, holding the top of the car door when you got close enough to see the driver's face.

You looked at him closely, narrowing your eyes. "Wait.. you're my driver.. why are you here? I'm not going home yet," you said confused, tuning your body to look between the two men. "Yes, you are," Toji replied, using a strong hand to manipulate your weak body as he pressed your shoulder down, pushing you into the car. "No- no wait- what the fuck? You said you were gonna fuck me." You slurred, watching the blurry picture of Toji slide into the car after you, the driver slamming it slut promptly.

Toji gripped your chin, tilting your head up to look at him, "Don't think your dad would like it very much if I fucked his daughter while she was high on coke." You blinked at him, trying to make the fuzziness in your vision go away, "'m not on coke, it's jus' molly, and why the fuck are you bringing up my dad?" You asked, trying to jerk your head away from his hand. "Your father hired me to be your personal cockblock, hope you're ready for rehab," Toji smirked, releasing your face as he bucked you into the seat, your body jolting when the driver pulled out into the street and started driving the two of you home.

—

You woke up with a headache, stomachache— honestly it would take longer to list what wasn't aching in your body. You groaned, stretching your limbs under your own sheets as you tried to wake yourself up. Wait, these are my sheets? How did I get home last night? you wondered. "Fuck.. water." You sat up, sitting on your ass as you curled your legs up to your chest, laying your forehead on your knees. Your throat was dry- like you had been stranded in the dryest desert for months, you tried to swallow, but it just felt like swallowing sandpaper. You didn't care as much about how you got home, too focused on trying not to throw up as you tried to gather the strength to stand.

You always regretted the morning after you went so hard like a night like the last. You always felt like a shell of yourself the morning after, no amount of drugs or sex could make that feeling go away until the next night, but it wasn't awful enough for you to break this little cycle you had going. "Need some water?" A voice rang in your ears, making your body jolt as you held your hand over your chest, scooting back on the bed as you looked in the direction of the voice to the large figure standing in your doorway.

A tall, balck haired and well build man who looked to be around your dad's age walked into your room holding a glass of water, you swore he looked familiar but you couldn't pinpoint where you had seen him before. You sighed, chalking it up to another unwanted one-night stand who had overstayed their welcome, although you didn't quite feel sore down there.. maybe his dick was just small? It's not like you could remember if you tried anyways. "Don't you know you're not supposed to hang around after we fuck? It's called a one-night stand for a reason." You said sharply, rubbing your temples with your fingers.

"Good thing we didn't fuck." Toji smirked, flipping on your light switch, making your face scrunch up in displeasure. You had no time to be confused when the light hit your eyes, making your headache worsen tenfold as you hid your face in your knees once again, pulling the sheets over your head. "Dude, what the fuck! Turn that shit off." You yelled, your voice coming to him muffled as you spoke into the sheets. "Its almost 2pm, you're not going to rot in bed all day, promised your dad I would take care of you, so get up." He said, uncrossing his arms as he started towards you, setting the water down on the bedside table as he stood at the side of your mattress, looking down at you.

His words made a flashback shoot through your brain, one of last night, the two of you in a car together, and this man had just told you he was your bodyguard. You turned your head to the side, squinting your eye at him as you tried to gauge if he looked like the same man in your flashback--unfortunately for you, he did. "Fuuuuuuuuuck." You groaned, half of the word being muffled when you turned your head back to your knees. "Remember me now, princess?" He asked, his deep, usually soothing voice meeting your ears in a grating, annoying way.

You pick your head up, giving him the best snarky smile you could manage while your body fought with the aftereffects of what you did to it last night. "You really think you're gonna stop me from doing what I want?" You raised your eyebrow challengingly at him, keeping your eyes on his darker ones. "I'm not as nice as your daddy, so yes, I do." He said, ripping the comforter off of your frame he grabbed your ankle and yanked you towards him on the bed, your night shorts and t-shirt he had dressed you in last night riding up, showing more of your thighs and midriff.

You stared at him in disbelief, your chest heaving at the sudden manhandling. "Don't touch me." You yanked your foot out of his grip and sat up, sliding off the bed hastily you made quick work of walking past the man, towards the bathroom. Toji winced when you slammed the door shut to the bathroom behind you, the sound echoing through the entire house, he was sure even the neighbors heard it. He sighed, sitting down on your bed, his big hand coming to rub his forehead in annoyance. "He better be paying me fucking good to put up with his little brat," Toji mumbled under his breath.

When his hand dropped into his lap, his vision was unobstructed once more, and under the illumination of the bright lights above your bed, and the absence of your presence distracting him, he could clearly see the bag of white pills on your dresser. "Jesus christ.." Toji whispered, his lip curling in disgust. He stood, pocketing the bag of substances to promptly flush down the toilet later. Something in the back of his head was telling him to check in your bedside table.

The man didn't exactly have the strongest morals, so he didn't think much of going through a college junkie girl's drawer. Just as he expected, when he pulled the drawer open he found three bright orange pill bottles, all labeled with different names. With a curt laugh, he pocketed those as well, he would make sure they were delt with appropriately. Once the drugs were in his pocket, he noticed the bright pink vibrator next to them, along with a baby blue dildo, some condoms he doubted you used, and panties with the crotch cut out.

He laughed, "Your good girl is actually pretty naughty.." He said under his breath, directed to your father. He didn't want to look too long, not because he was afraid of you finding out, he was sure you were going to the moment you came back in here, looking for something to take your pain away from the day before. He didn't want to look too long because he didn't want to imagine his boss's daughter sprawled out on her bed, legs wide as one hand pinched her nipples and the other used the vibrator on her sensitive little clit through the gape in the crotchless panties.

He heard the shower turn on, snapping him out of his thoughts as he shut the drawer, averting his gaze as he did so. He flicked the lights off in your room as he left, making his way down to the living room where your chef was preparing your breakfast, rich people. The old woman behind the counter who was cooking something that smelled devine, looked happy to be there though. He knew how genuinely nice your father was, and he figured you must've treated them with the same kindness for them to stick around.

He must've been sitting on the couch watching the old woman cook for quite some time because your figure emerged from the hallway leading into the open room, adorned in nothing but skimpy panties and a tank top. You were ruffling your hair in a pink towel, trying to dry it the best you could before you discarded the towel on the floor and jumped up on the expensive-looking bar stool in front of the kitchen. You sat on your knees, your ass poking out towards Toji, he watched as you twisted back and forth on the chair, showing off your body like you wanted him to see.

He was grateful you had come down here in a better mood than before, you must've not checked your empty dresser drawer yet. "Good morning" You spoke kindly to the old woman, to which she replied her own 'good morning' with a smile. He liked seeing you like this, this was the you he recognized. He could barely tell you were the same person who was letting yourself get manhandled on the lap of a stranger in the middle of a disgusting club high on drugs.

Toji just couldn't help but break the peacefulness of the morning with his deep voice, "Where are your clothes?" He asked, "You have company." You sighed, sitting your butt down on the stool you brought your foot up on the cushion, resting your chin on your knee as you tipped your head as you looked at him. "You're just my handler, right? So why are you talking right now?" Your face was scrunched in disdain, the girl from last night making an appearance, he had a hard time telling which of the two of you was real.

"Just sayin' it's unbecoming for a young lady like you to have your ass out so shamelessly." Toji retorted. "This is my house, I'll do whatever I want old man." You bit back, spinning around as the chef pushed your plate towards you, the colors of the different foods on your plate stimulating your brain that was dulled from last night's drugs. "Oh ma'am, I would be lost without you." You whispered to the chef, placing your hand ontop of her wrinkled one gratefully. You thought the conversation between you and your babysitter was over, so you were shocked when you felt his chest bump against your back, his large hand reaching over yours to grab the other plate the woman had made for him.

"Your daddy spoiled you too much, now you're just a stuck-up brat. You should listen to your elders y'know?" Toji scolded. His voice sent goosebumps down your spine, maybe this could be something, you always did love a good hatefuck. The warmth of his chest was gone as soon as it came as he took the plate back to the sofa, kicking his legs up on the coffee table as he started shoveling the food into his mouth sloppily. "When you stop treating me like a kid, I might." You answered, keeping your back to him to he couldn't see the blush that had spread across your face.

The two of you ate in silence, you were the first to get up, walking your plate over to the sink to clean the food off, when your phone started buzzing on the counter. You abandoned the plate in the sink, walking back over to see who was calling. Toji watched your eyes light up as you answered the phone, probably some college boy you were fucking with at the moment had called you to hook up. It was the middle of the day, students these days were relentless. "Tonight? Send me the address and I'll be there~" You cooed into the receiver.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize you had just been invited out to another party. Toji acted quickly, when you faced your body away from him, leaning against the fridge as you listened to the boy speak, Toji appeared behind you once again, snatching your phone out of your hand, "No she won't." Toji spoke for you, letting him know you would absolutely not be going to any parties under his watch before hanging up the phone. "Stop fucking doing that!" You yelled, your body jolting in surprise as you turned around, glaring at the man just inches from you.

You grabbed his wrist that was holding your phone, with your other you ripped the device out of his hand before digging your sharp nail into his chest and giving him a death stare from under your lashes. "Touch what belongs to me again Ill-" "You'll what? Fire me? Your pretty drugged-up brain keeps forgetting your daddy hired me?" He smirked, crossing his bulging biceps over his chest. You took a step back, shaking your head. "You won't tell me what to do, fucking watch." You spat, walking off to your room. Toji brushed it off as an empty threat, what could you possibly accomplish when he was watching your every move like a hawk?

When you reached the comfort of your bedroom you slammed the door shut, hoping Toji would hear from his place downstairs. Who the fuck was he to come into your life and order you around? And your dad had hired him too? Seriously? These old men needed to stop fucking intervening with you, you didn't need any help. After that thought ran through your head you made a path straight for your drawer, looking for a pill or two to at least make you feel like you weren't cooped up at home if you couldn't actually leave.

Curling your fingers around the handle you pulled it open and- what the fuck? The familiar orange bottles you kept next to your sex toys were nowhere to be seen. Even on your most fucked up nights you had never neglected to put the bottles back where they belonged in your drawer. There was only one person who could've done this. "OLD MAN!!" Toji heard your voice echo, your footsteps getting louder as you marched angrily into the living room. A grin spread across his face when your figure came into view, his feet still kicked up on the coffee table as he barely spared you a glance before he went back to watching his show.

"Do you really not know my name, or are you just being a brat?" Toji asked, keeping his eyes on the screen. You were fuming, you had spent your hard-earned money on those (not like you had a shortage of cash or anything, but you hated your drug guy, he was so pushy and not at all cute.) "Toji, you had no right to go through my drawers like that, seriously, you're more fucked up than you think I am!" You yelled, your face growing hot, veins pumping with adrenaline. Toji decided you were worth the time of day, tilting his head back against the couch cushion he looked at you.

"Your daddy said I could do whatever I wanted, he also said to keep all that nasty shit out of your pretty little body, so that's exactly what I'm going to do." He replied, raising his eyebrows as he looked you up and down, pausing on your crotch, still only clad in those skimpy panties he couldn't stand. You blushed at him calling your body pretty, his words making your brain forget its track of thought for a moment. "W-what I put inside me isn't any of your business." You retorted, placing your hand on your hip.

"It is when your father specifically tells me it is." Toji laughed. "If you want something inside you so bad why don't you put those toys to use? That'll give you some kinda high for sure." Your face heat up even more. You figured he had seen your toy stash in the process of him throwing your pills away, but you didn't think he was going to use them against you like this. "Did my dad tell you to harass me like this too? Fucking pervert." You spat. "You're calling me a pervert when you're walking around in front of me with just those little panties on? There practically fucking see-through."

You were feeling hot in a different place now. You still wanted to punch him so hard he threw up, but another part of you wanted to climb over the cough and straddle his hips, pull his cock out and sit on it, letting him fuck you dumb. You'd never fucked someone his age before, it sounded fun, you bet he had loads more experience than the college guys you were sleeping with. "Why are you looking?" You retorted, your voice losing its edge. "Don't you want me to?" Toji replied. The two of you kept your eyes on one another, the air around you thick, making it hard to breath as neither one of you dared to break the eye contact.

The doorbell ringing snapped you out of it, both of your heads turning to look at the massive entrance doors. Toji stood to get it, but you beat him to it, running over to the door. "I got it." You told him. He stood behind the sofa, watching you open the door in your slutty attire. Pulling open the door, a handsome man around your age came into view, his arms sticking out for a hug as he stepped inside. "Absolutely not," Toji spoke, making haste for the door to shove him out. "Relax, do you think I'm fucking stupid?" Toji raised his eyebrows like you knew what he was going to say, before he crossed his arms and let you finish.

"He's gay, nothing is going to happen. You won't let me go to this fucking party, and I am not staying here alone with you all day." You hissed. The boy behind you nodded, his hand wrapped loosely around your waist. Toji stayed quiet for a while, the boy hadn't said or done anything yet to contrast your words, so even though he was hesitant, he stepped aside, letting the two of you pass as you held his hand and dragged him in the direction of your room. He heard you giggle as you pulled him along with you, his eyes squinting before he shook off the feeling, finding his place once more on the comfortable sofa.

—

About an hour had passed since the boy had arrived and he hadn't heard anything suspicious yet. For having such a massive and expensive home, you sure had some thin fucking walls. Toji was starting to doze off, his show having long ended and now some drama had taken its place, droning on in the background. His eyes were fluttering shut, arms crossed over one another, and that’s when he heard it.

“Ahh!” His eyes shot open, scanning around the room as he tried to figure out if what he heard had been a figment of his imagination or not. “Fuck! Baby~ ngh!” There it was. All he needed to hear. You had fucking lied. He heard your moans echo through the walls, you were so loud it was like you wanted him to hear you. “This fucking bitch.” Toji mumbled under his breath, uncrossing his arms he stood and made haste for your room. The moans and crying began to be accompanied by slaps and squelches the closer he got to your closed door.

"Yeah~ give it to m-meee" you moaned between his thrusts. Truth be told, he wasn't fucking you well at all, you only invited him over because his looks rivaled Toji's, but even then he fell short. His thrusts were sloppy and felt more like he was jabbing around your cunt with a thin stick, but you wanted Toji to know you were in charge here, he wasn't going to come into your home and tell you what you could and couldn't do, so if it took a bad fuck to get that through his head, so be it, it's not like you were going to see this boy after today anyways.

You had a smile on your face, which the boy took as him fucking you good, his annoying moans filling up your ears, "Yeah? You like me fucking dick?" He whined, emphasizing his words with a thrust that made you yell out, not from pleasure; not like he would be able to distinguish the difference anyway, "Love ittt~" You faux moaned, fighting to keep a yawn from spilling through your lips. The boy kept jabbing his dick into your walls, and you got so immersed in listening to your own moans to get you through this, that your soul almost jumped out of your body when your door swung open.

Toji stood in the doorway, the vein on his forehead protruding out from under the skin as he took in your position. You were ass up, face down in the sheets, and he could tell right away you didn't like it as much as you were leading on, he saw right through your little game. It only took a couple steps for Toji to get from your doorway to standing behind the man at the edge of your bed. Faster than you could comprehend, Toji had yanked the boy back from the collar of his shirt, pulling him off the bed and out of you as he stumbled on the floor, awkwardly tucking his cock into his pants.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" You yelled, turning your body around you crawled towards them on the bed, reaching out for the boy like you wanted him to stay. This wasn't exactly what you had in mind, you wanted to rile Toji up and show him you could do whatever you wanted, but you didn't know he would storm in here and throw the boy out forcefully. You should've known he was the type of guy to pull something like this. "You know you're way out right?" He said to the confused boy you had dragged into your mess.

He held him up by the collar, bringing his face close to his own he tipped his head, waiting for the boy to answer. He nodded in fear, still trying to wrap his poor aroused head at what was happening. "Good, be a good boy and let yourself out, would you?" He whispered, throwing him forward and out of your room. The boy stumbled on his feet, trying to grab the wall so he didn't fall over before the door was being slammed shut in his face.

"Fuck! You asshole, Fuck!" You were behind Toji, grabbing at his shirt as you tried to get him to face you so you could yell at him properly. While he was throwing out your fuck, you had slid on your panties and pulled your tanktop back over your tits poorly, the hard buds of your nipples poking through the shirt. Toji wasted no time in turning quick on his heels as he grabbed you by the throat, your hands coming to grip at his wrist as he choked you out, pressing just hard enough that you could barely manage to get a stream of air through your esophagus.

He leaned his face close to yours, looking at how messy you looked with your tangled hair and smeared lipstick. "You really think you can get away with shit like that? Huh?" Toji asked, squinting his eyes at you. You whined, trying to give him a pout, "Aww, don't act like you wanted him to stay, he wasn't even fucking you right, was he? If I wanted to hear someone fake an orgasm I would've gone to pornhub." He said, looking between your glassy eyes and your swollen lips from the boys sloppy kissing.

"You're such a slut you know that? You can't go one fucking day without having a cock inside you, even if it's bad, huh?" He chastised, slowly walking you backward towards the bed, so slow you barely noticed it. "He get you high too? Hmm?" He asked, his other hand coming up to pull your eye down to get a better look at your pupils. "N-no." You whispered through his hand squeezing your throat. "No?" His eyes everted to the side table, where a few white pills sat atop the wood, waiting to be taken.

"But you were gonna let him get you high, weren't you?" He asked, following your face when you yanked it away from his hand that pulled down your eye. "None of your fucking business." You spat through your teeth. It was only then you realized you were back at your bed, your calves bumping into the mattress taking you out of your trance. "How is it none of my business when you were moaning like a pathetic slut just to get my attention?" He asked, tilting his head at you as he slid his massive thigh between your own, his knee pressing against your crotch.

You kept silent, pouting at him as you kept your pretty eyes locked on his, waiting for him to do anything. "You sure you ain't high right now?" He asked, to which you quickly nodded. Toji smirked, huffing out a smile at your unapologetic display of lust, "Ur' pupils that big cos you're horny then?" Your arousal spiked tenfold when he announced your need. You licked your lips, nodding at his words as you shamelessly let your eyes fall on his plump lips, dragging between them and his dark eyes.

Toji was feeling conflicted. On one hand, he could think of no better time to put you in your place and fuck the brat out of you, showing you who was really in charge here, you were sober and so clearly wanted it after all. The more rational side of him was telling him this was his boss's daughter, who was twice his age, so he absolutely should not fuck her. Unluckily for the rational side of his brain, your hard nipples poking through your shirt and the smell of your arousal that was still evident in the room was more than enough to sway him, the primal side of him winning as he listened to his urges.

"You wanna find out how it's supposed to feel to get fucked?" Toji whispered, like if he said the words too loud, your father who was currently in another country might hear. You nodded, pulling your lip between your teeth. He laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation before he pressed his lips to yours, the pair of you instantly groaning into the other's mouth. You don't know if you've ever felt this aroused in your life. Even his kisses made you feel something you've never experienced before, was every kiss supposed to feel like this?

Toji slowly pushed you back on the bed, keeping his knee between your legs as he hovered over you, releasing your neck and instead using one hand to pull your panties off, his other resting by your head so he didn't crush you. You wrapped your hands around his strong neck, whimpering into the kiss. He heard you giggle when you threw your panties somewhere in the room, sliding his hand up your waist as he situated you on the bed, pulling your thighs around his hips. "Whats so funny?" He asked, pulling back from the kiss as he watched you smile underneath him, tilting your head as you loosened your arms around his neck.

"Jus' wondering what my dad would think if he saw what the bodyguard he got to protect his little girl was doing to her right now~" You giggled, biting your lip. Toji shook his head, keeping his eyes on yours as he wordlessly dipped his fingers down to your pussy, teasing up and down your soaked entrance. "Yeah, what would he think about you fucking someone twice your age? Fuckin' brat." He spat, watching your smile fade and your expression be replaced with your slacked jaw and raised eyebrows as your eyes fluttered when he dipped his large fingers into your hole, pressing into it teasingly before pulling away.

"I know he's used to seein' you slut yourself out to those dumb college boys, but this might shock him.. huh?" He cooed, pressing his fingers into your cunt slowly, your walls greedily swallowing up his thick digits. "F-fuck-" You cursed, your eyes falling shut, tipping your head agaisnt the pillow. "That feel good baby? You like feelin' this old man's fingers in your pussy? Fuckin' into your sweet spot?" He whispered, bringing his lips against yours once more, hovering them against you as he inhaled your reactions when he curled his fingers, massaging your g-spot with precision.

"Right there-" You gasped quietly against his lips, wiggling your hips down onto his fingers. "Right here? Yeah? When's the last time someone actually touched you right here, hmm?" He asked, softly kissing your lips before he went back to hovering his lips over yours. "I-I don't know." You whispered, trying to kiss him back but he kept his lips just far enough away from yours that you couldn't manage. "No? That why you're so fucking insatiable huh? Jus' waiting to find the guy who will actually fuck you right?" You were dripping around his fingers. His soft teasing words were a stark contrast to his fingers that now pistoned in and out of you, wet squelching noises bouncing off the walls and echoing into your ears, driving you mad.

"Mhm- mhm-" You replied, nodding your head rapidly, feeling your orgasm come on quickly. "You're not gonna find that with these fuckin' college boys sweet thing, 'ya need a man for that, someone a little.. older." He whispered, making you whine against him as he curled his fingers into a particularly sensitive spot. You abandoned one of your arms around his neck, reaching between you to grab his wrist. Your eyes cracked open, staring up at him as you breathed heavily. "All it takes is a couple fingers and you're a good girl, isn't that right?" He asked, feeling you squeeze around his fingers.

He continued to drill his fingers into you, your back arching against him as moans fell freely from your lips, your nails digging into his wrist as you felt your orgasm creep up on you. "You gonna cum for me, princess?" Toji asked knowingly, smirking when you nodded against him. You felt it, it was right there, well within your grasp when- suddenly the stimulation stopped, your orgasm fizzling out. Your eyes peeled open, eyebrows scrunched together as you looked up at him with a crimson face. "You sure?" He asked, his smirk growing.

Toji abandoned his fingers from your pussy, pulling them out with a pop as he sat back on his heels, replacing his lips with his fingers soaked in your cum as he pressed them against your lips, watching while you eagerly took them into your mouth, moaning around them as you tasted yourself on your tongue. Of course, you were mad Toji had pulled away right before you came but with the way he had rubbed inside your walls so nicely, your brain couldn't think of anything bratty to say as you sucked on his fingers, watching his eyes watch your lips as he unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock in one swift movement.

You moaned around his fingers when your eyes made contact with his girth, it was massive, way bigger than anything you had taken before, even bigger than your dildo. His was prettier than other dicks you'd seen too, a pretty flushed and tripping tip to contrast against a slightly darker color of his length. He jerked his cock steadily, pressing his fingers deeper into your mouth. "You like what you see, brat?" Toji asked, grinning when he felt your tongue slide over his fingers, mimicking the way you sucked a cock.

Toji groaned through a smile when you grabbed his wrist tighter and pushed his fingers into your throat, bobbing your head around them. "Someone trained you before me, huh? Who taught you to suck fingers like a dick?" Toji asked, raising his eyebrows at you. You swallowed your arousal and saliva in your mouth before pulling his fingers from you, a line of spit connecting your lips to his fingers. "I don't remember." You smiled drunkenly, making his cock twitch as he didn't let up his strokes on it. "Such a slut." He said, shaking his head.

You whined at his words, spreading your legs around his thighs to make more room, you dropped your hands down to his cock and wrapped both your hands around the tip, jerking what you could while he kept up his own ministrations on his cock as well. "You gonna slut yourself out for me too? Show me how good you are at taking cock?" He asked, releasing his hand from his dick he leaned over you, placing his forearms around your head as you stroked the entirety of his cock in your hands, wrapping your legs around him.

"Yeah~" You answered, looking between the two of you as you pressed his fat tip against your entrance, his cock leaking against your pussy. "You gonna fuck me raw, daddy?" You whispered against his ear. Toji swore his brain stopped working, his cock throbbed in your hold at the name. He audibly groaned, pressing one of his hands over your mouth, "Don't do that." He warned, swallowing hard as his smile faded from his face, his arousal plastering itself all over his features.

Toji felt a new need, a rawer, more primal one. He knew he shouldn't have felt as aroused as he did when you called him that, but he couldn't fucking help it. He kept replaying your words over in his head, one of your hands came up to pull his down off of your mouth, while the other stayed between your legs, his tip pushing past the ring of your cunt, making the both of you gasp. "You like it when I call you that, huh?" You whispered, watching his jaw go slack and his eyes roll back as he slipped deeper and deeper into your cunt. "Fuck- you're so- haah- so big-" you whined, his cock pressing agaisnt your sweet spot ruining your attempts at being in control for even a second.

"Yeah.." Toji moaned, his eyes peeled open again to watch your expression as you took his cock, "Let's see if you're still runnin' that fuckin' mouth when I'm done with you." He finished, thrusting his cock to the hilt unexpectedly, knocking the wind out of you. The older man started up a brutal pace inside your cunt, his eyes rolling back at how tight and warm you were around him. Both of your hands came down to push against his pelvis, trying to get him to slow down, "Fuck! T-toji w-wait wait-" You whined at the painful stretch.

"Nah, what happened to 'daddy' huh? Though you liked callin' me that shit." He asked, not letting up his hips, ignoring your hands trying to push him away. "Stop fucking whining, you can take it, ur' such a big fuckin' girl who can take anything, right?" Toji smirked, biting down on his teeth when he felt you squeeze around him. Incohearant moans were being fucked out of you, one of your hands starting to circle around your little clit in small circles as you felt yourself rapidly approach your orgasm.

He gripped both of your wrists together, stopping your motions as he pinned your hands above your head, watching your head thrash back and forth against the sheets. "Answer me brat." He spat, picking up the pace of his hips. "Fuck f-fuck D-daddy please-" You wined, letting him hear exactly what he wanted to hear. You've never called anyone other than your father that name; really only calling Toji the nickname in the first place to tease him; so it felt foreign calling Toji that in this setting, but seeing how worked up it got him made you aroused as well.

He groaned once again at the nickname, his hand that wasn't pinning your arms above your head came down to rub at your clit, finding it with pinpoint precision and rubbing it in circles just how you liked it. "Oh fuck me-" you groaned, your eyes rolling back, head tipping back in the sheets, revealing your still marked-up neck to him. He hated the sight, he wanted to lean down and replace the ugly purple marks with his own, darker ones, so that's exactly what he did.

He found the bruises with his eyes first, then made sure his lips were covering them before he started sucking the skin into his mouth, making you gasp. "When's the last time someone touched your clit for you?" Toji asked, noticing how tight you got around him when you rubbed the little bud, your legs squeezing his waist simultaneously. "I- I don't know I- Fuck!" Your head pushed further back into the sheets as Toji kept sucking on your neck. "Feels soo much better when someone else does it huh?" Toji asked knowingly.

Your moans were raising in pitch, the noises coming less frequently as your high crept over you, your breath stuttering in your chest as you came hard, all over his dick, moaning out his name and broken cries of 'daddy' as you did. "Oh- fuck yeahhh~ Cum all over daddy's fucking cock princess, that's fucking right~" He leaned back from your neck, pressing your wrists into the bed harder as he fucked you through your first orgasm, your walls squeezing him like you were trying to milk him for all he was worth. You came down, gasping and crying in overstimulation as Toji kept fucking you, the squelching louder now thanks to your orgasm.

"That feel good baby? Wanna feel that again?" He asked, laughing at how tears had started to fall down your cheeks. "P-please fuck- Your cock feels so- fucking- good-" You praised through his rough thrusts, his hips making your body slide up on the bed from how hard he was fucking you. "Yeah? I bet it feels good, you're fucking shaking." Toji laughed, slowing his thumb against your clit so as to not overstimulate you to the point of passing out, as validating as it would be to see you literally pass out from his cock, he didn't want to deal with that right now.

"You like my p-pussy?" You asked, smirking at him, noticing how his grip on your wrists tightened when you asked him that. His cock twitched as he watched your tits bounce from under your shirt, your nipple occasionally popping out from under the fabric. "Who taught you to speak like that? Such a filthy fucking mouth." Toji chastized, picking up his thumb on your clit once more, wanting to see you fall apart one more time on his dick before he came.

"Y- fuck T-you didn't answer-" You wined, feeling the coil tighten in your stomach once more. Everything about this man was making your entire body feel like it was on fire. How confident he was, how he knew your anatomy like the back of his hand, how he seemed to know every little button on your body that made you twitch and whine, all of it was driving you crazy. "You want me to tell you how much I love fucking you little pussy? Huh?" He stared, groaning against your lips as he leaned down, kissing you between words.

"Want me to tell you how I almost came when I got inside you? How good it feels when you twitch around me?" He whispered, kissing you hungrily, swallowing up your high-pitched moans as his hips lost rhythm. "That what you wanna hear? How you have daddy losing his mind in your tight little cunt?" You pulled off of his lips, practically screaming his name as your high crashed over you once more, his words being the final straw that got you there.

Toji dropped his head to your neck, biting the skin there to keep his groans at bay. "Fuck- fuck- where do you want it?" Toji rushed, hoping you were able to respond through your orgasm, or he was going to cum inside you anyways. "I-inside daddy f-fill me up!" You slurred through your high, riding your orgasm out on his dick as he continued to pull his cock almost completely out before bullying it back inside you. "Yeah? Want me to cum inside you? God- you drive me fucking crazy-" Toji continued to thrust inside your tired cunt, fucking you once more into overstimulation as he groaned loudly into your neck; he never was one to be shy about being loud in bed.

"Fuck- It's coming- gonna fill you up baby, 'n you're gonna take every last fucking drop, right?" He asked. He desperately needed to hear you say it. "Yes baby yes- g-gonna take it all- c-cum inside me pleasee~" You slurred, the pulsing of your walls working him over just right as his breath hitched at the first rope of his hot cum shooting inside your cunt. His teeth dug into your neck when he came, his hips stuttering as he humped them against you every time his cock shot out his cum. "Yessss~ Fucking give it to me daddy~" you slurred against his ear, giggling.

He stilled against you, the aftershocks of his orgasm wracking through his body, his grip had tightened around your wrist almost completely cutting off your circulation, you were sure to have bruises there in the morning. The two of you panted when he finally came down from his high. He sat up, slowly pulling his cock out of your sore and red pussy, his eyes watching as his thick cum spilled out of your hole and down the curve of your ass. "Take a picture if you wanna~" You said, squeezing your calves around his waist.

Toji shook his head, "You should be careful with that, you know who you are, don't you?" Toji said, scooping up his cum he stuffed his fingers back inside you, keeping it all in. You didn't know what to say back, guys usually jumped at the opportunity to take a picture of you all ruined like this, was it weird to say you were almost charmed by Toji looking out for you? "Your legs alright?" He asked, his voice breaking the silence when he noticed how shaky they were.

You weren't used to someone asking how you were after sex either.. this Toji.. he was weird. "Uh, yeah, just a little sore." You said, uncharacteristically shy. His eyes glanced up at your bashful face, before they found your wrists, seeing bright red marks imprint on the skin there, he admit the sight was erotic, but that shit look like it hurt. "Shit, sorry," Toji mumbled, his hand reaching up to your hands on your tummy to rub your wrist softly in his hands. "Didn't mean to fuck your shit up so bad." He laughed. You giggled at his choice of words, "It's fine, it felt good." you replied.

Toji had started to climb off the bed, tucking his cock into his pants a he laughed, walking towards the entrance of your room. Right, he was going to leave now, just because he was a good fuck doesn't mean he was going to stay now. "Don't move," he instructed, making you snap out of your thoughts. You watched Toji exit the room, you heard the skin in the bathroom turn on briefly before the water stopped, soon after the large man entered the room again.

You hadn't moved, just like he told you to. You watched him crawl back on the bed, a damp rag in his hand as he wiped your legs down, starting from your ankles, "I would carry you to the shower, but you wouldn't be able to stand anyway." He laughed. You pulled your leg back, out of his grasp, "What are you doing?" You asked. Toji looked at you like you were dumb, "I'm cleaning you up?" He said like it was obvious, roughly pulling your leg back towards himself so he could wipe you clean again, kissing your ankle before he threw it over his shoulder, scooting forward to wipe down the underside of his thigh.

"You're weird, Toji fushiguro." You said, blushing at his sudden soft treatment of your body. The man laughed, reaching your sore cunt he dragged the towel through your folds, cleaning the mess the two of you made there as you groaned in distain. "Okay, baby." He replied.