#but privately he has a pair and is practicing in his room so hard

[fushitoru]

i can't stop looking at his d—d—d—d—FACE!

pairings ⸺ (SEPERATE) boy next door!gojo x reader, wrestler!toji x reader, gym trainer!sukuna x reader, pizza delivery boy!choso x reader, husband's boss!nanami x reader, perv on train!geto x reader

summary ⸺ jjk men as overused p0rn/h3ntai plots! inspired by this awesome post by the talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular @/osamucide! pls check it out and the rest of his work :3

warnings ⸺ SMUT (mdni), consent is pre-established in all scenarios (but dub con just in case), everyone is of age (or older), exhibitionism, infidelity in nanami’s, pussy drunk men lol, not edited (as always), cowgirl, missionary, creampies, VERY public sex in toji’s, art by 3-aem, lmk if I’ve missed anything!

a/n lolll i'm ngl this was so fun to write. some of these scenarios are so funnny hELP. this one is also for some of the anons who are so obsessed w choso and sukuna in bridgerton au. wrote them for you 🫡 choso’s is my fav hehe

general masterlist

SUKUNA RYOMEN ⸺ HOTTIE'S PERSONAL TRAINER HAS A VERY HANDS ON APPROACH!

“Brat!” Sukuna’s voice cuts through the air like a whip. “Watch your back. You’re supposed to be hinging your hips back, not whatever lazy shit you were doing.”

He steps around to your side, the heavy thud of his boots on the gym floor adding to the oppressive weight of his presence. Squatting down, he sets his hips back in one smooth motion, demonstrating with sharp precision. “Like this. Not whatever the fuck that was.”

You glance at him, your legs trembling under you. Sweat clings to your skin, a thin sheen that feels heavy after the grueling thirty minutes with your personal trainer. Sukuna definitely takes the "tiger mom" approach, every tattoo on his body echoing the sharp, uncompromising authority in his eyes. Right now, those eyes bore into you, narrowed with impatience, his hands on his hips. His scowl is practically carved into his face—stone-hard and unmoving.

Breathing hard, you slump forward, hands gripping your knees as you gasp for air. Your heartbeat drums loudly in your ears. “Sukuna, g-give me a sec. I just—fuck—” You can barely string a sentence together between gulps of air. “I just maxed out. My legs are literally shaking.”

Sukuna clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment, but his voice softens—just a little. “Fine. Catch your breath. But as you do that, let’s practice proper form.”

You nod exhaustedly, not being able to think very clearly. Wiping the sweat to prevent it from getting into your eyes, you put your legs hip width apart as Sukuna gets behind you to observe your form. You bend down, trying to sit back onto your hips as best as possible, but as soon as your ass grazes Sukuna’s crotch, you lose the form in your back in surprise. “Sorry—”

“That was wrong.” Sukuna’s voice is in your ear as he puts his hands on your hips, and you are dizzy with the contact. “Here.” Both of you squat down, Sukuna’s hard body moving right behind you, and at the lowest position, Sukuna’s thumb roves over the fat of your ass, and they leave your hips to trace up your back. “Your back should be neutral, otherwise you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“O—okay,” you breathily reply, dizzy with the way he was touching you. If you listened closely, it almost sounded as if you were whimpering. Unfortunately for you, it seemed like Sukuna was more observant than you had hoped because he was looking at you in suspicion, eyes raking up and down your figure to observe your appearance. Disheveled, chest rising rapidly, sweat dripping right in the middle of your breasts—

Sukuna, out of nowhere, grabs your hand and begins walking away. “Come with me. You’re not doing them right.”

Soon, you’re led into one of the gym’s stretching rooms—the private ones, the ones meant for Sukuna to help you after the workout. 

“Sukuna, what are we—” you breathlessly ask, but you’re quickly shushed by Sukuna as he hoists himself on the massage table.

“Come here,” he motions to his lap, and you wordlessly follow his directions, sitting directly on top of his lap, gasping as you realize there’s a bulge making contact with your pussy. “We’re going to try an alternative way of doing squats, one that involves a bit more cardio.” He pulls down his sweatpants, blushing, furious cock springing out as he pulls down your yoga pants.

Soon, you’re moaning as you slowly take in his cock, sliding down as his precum and your copious amount of slick mix and drip onto his pelvis. Your feet are on either side of his legs, making you squat every time you lower yourself down on his length.

“Fuck! You’re so tight.” He slaps your ass as you bounce yourself rapidly on his cock. “Pretended to not know how to squat just for me to put this fat cock in you, isn’t that right?”

You didn’t have the capacity to answer, just moan as his cock hits your spot. Unsatisfied with your pace, Sukuna flips you both over until your back is on the table. 

“Oh fuck yea,” Sukuna pants, hips pistoning into you rapidly, effectively fucking you into the table, and his quads are bulging in sheer strength as they clench and unclench in reflection of his pleasure. “Didn’t know my client had such a sweet pussy.”

KAMO CHOSO ⸺ SHE ORDERS BIG SAUSAGE PIZZA AND GETS HER DEEP DICK CRAVINGS FILLED! (the title is so ridiculous im crying)

“Your total’s $14.93. You’re five bucks short.” The delivery boy—an emo looking guy with hair in space buns—responds to the wad of cash and coins you had just given him. He couldn’t look any less bored than he was as he stared down impassively at you, hot, steaming pizza in one hand.

"Wait, but I ordered a small?" You ask him in confusion. "I couldn't possibly finish a large one by myself!"

He pulls out your receipt from where it was tucked into the pizza box. "Your order said a large." Upon glancing on it, you look that he was indeed correct—right next to your pizza, the size LARGE glared at you through the sheen of the reciept's paper.

"Oh," You said, dumbly, blinking in confusion. "Well, I can pay the rest in card if that's okay."

You get an impassive "I don't have a card reader."

"Oh, okay," you laugh nervously, hand going up to scratch the back of your head and fiddle with the rest of your fingers. "Okay, well," you squinted at his nametag, "Choso, let me just check the remaining cash I have. You can come inside if you'd like." 

He comes inside, dropping off the pizza you ordered on your kitchen counter as he makes his way to sit on your couch. You go to your bedroom, checking your desk drawer for any loose cash you may have stored but to no avail. Heart racing and nervous, you frantically search the upper shelf of your room, on your tiptoes as you look for your money jar, praying that there was a 5 dollar piece of cash lying around. Instead, your fingers crash against some book propped on it, tumbling down onto the floor with a large thud!

You hear footsteps coming up to your bedroom door. Choso, standing near the door. "You good?"

"Yea," you strain, still reaching up high to grasp at the jar. "I'm just trying to find somethi—”

The heat of Choso's body surrounds you as he presses closer to you, reaching up effortlessly to grab at the money jar. His groin presses against your backside, acutely aware of his breaths as he passes you the jar. 

Which is empty.

"Fuck!" you curse. You turn, looking at Choso in anxiousness, as you notice he hasn't backed away at all. "I'm sorry, but is there any alternative way to pay for the pizza? Again, I'm really really sorry for the hassle."

"You have to pay for the food in some sort of way," he says with a stony face. Your mind is racing, thinking of ways you could pay but coming up short.

As a result, you end up with your face stuffed against your pillow, the hot delivery boy plowing and drilling his cock into you. 

"Fuck, so irresponsible. Couldn't even pay for the pizza she ordered without a stranger's cock inside of her." At his dirty talk, you whimper and squeeze his pussy, Choso groaning as a result.

"What was that?" He grabs your hair and pulls your face up as his tongue traces the frame of your ear. "What were you trying to say, you cockslut?"

"'M sorry!" You squealed and babbled, eliciting little ah! ah! ah!'s as he continues bumping his cockhead against the gooey spot inside your pussy.

"Yea, you better be. Wasting my fucking time. I'm going to come inside, got it?" Choso growls as he continues pistoning his hips inside.

GETO SUGURU ⸺ ANIME GIRL GETS HER PUSSY FINGERED ON PUBLIC TRAIN!

He pulls you in for a deep kiss while rutting inside you. "Aren't you my good girl? Taking this cock for me like a good girl?" You squeal, blabbering nonsense as he fucks you into next Tuesday…

You read the smut from your favorite author on Tumblr, devouring each word while remaining stony faced as the train rocked underneath your feet. In the corner facing the doors, you made sure that you were angled in such a way that no one would be able to see the filthy things you were reading on your screen. 

However, the metro was slowing down and you looked up quickly—which was painful, considering you were so invested in the story—to make sure it wasn't your stop. As the rush of foot traffic simultaneously populated and vacated the metro, you paid no attention to the people behind you. After all, other people would be too busy on their phones to see what you were reading, right?

"You're going to take this cum, right? I'm going to breed you, my sweet, sweet girl." He laughs.  You take a moment to take in his pretty features. Long hair, beautiful face, all filled with lust for you...

You scan the words, blush evident on your face as your favorite writer has done it yet again. Adjusting, you squeezed your thighs for relief and toyed with the hem of your skirt, failing to notice the soft breaths trailing down the back of your neck just because of how enthralled and taken you were with the plot.

And then, a hand trailed up your thigh, catching you by alarm. You almost drop your phone in your rush to turn and look at the creep that was touching you, ready to beat the shit out of him. 

But when you do turn, you stop and widen your eyes. The man in front of you seems even prettier than the fictional man you were reading about, and you take him in as he rubs circles on your thigh. His sultry eyes rake down your figure, his lips pulled back in a knowing smirk. "That's some filthy shit you're reading."

Looking at him, your heart starts beating faster solely because of the promise of what his hands would do as they were currently softly stroking your thighs, getting closer and closer to going under your shirt. "I—I—uh sorry—I—"

"It's okay, pretty girl." He gives you a kiss on the side of your neck. "Continue reading it. Can you do that, baby?"

You nod, not trusting your voice. Coincidentally, you're at the part where the man helps the girl masturbate, rubbing and teasing her pussy up and down. The man behind you does the same, teasing your lips while refusing to delve inside your panties, no matter how badly you want him to do.

"That feel good?"

You whimper. "Yes—ah—it feels good. Please touch me on my pussy directly. Please."

The man behind you chuckles, and your knees buckle at how rich his voice is. You would join a cult for this man. "Since you asked so nicely, I will. Call me Suguru."

His fingers pull your panties aside and enters, soon knuckle deep inside your cunt, and as quietly as you can, you moan his name as he continues fingering you in front of all the strangers on the train. His hips press closer to your ass, and you throb even more at the huge bulge he’s sporting. He’s sloppily licking on the outside of your ear, right where you’re sensitive, and you shiver and lose yourself in the pressure even more.

The pleasure was building in you steadily and Suguru groans. “That’s right, take it all.”

You almost jump when the PA sounds. "The next stop is Shinjuku."

“That’s my stop. You have to cum before then, or you won’t be able to cum,” Suguru whispers in your ear, speeding up and hitting your g-spot with precision. There are tears forming in your eyes as you make an effort to stay quiet, especially with Suguru giving seductive kisses to your sensitive neck. 

“Fuck, you got so tight,” he groans. “Gonna cum?” He uses his thumb to rub fast circles on your clit, and you see stars. 

“I will—I will,” you cry, as the throbbing and pulsing sensation grows faster and faster until finally, you cum with a muffled cry, because Suguru has his fingers in your mouth to ensure you don’t scream out on this very, very public train.  “Squeezing my fingers so much, relax,” Suguru laughs, popping his slick-coated fingers in his mouth. “You gonna do that to my dick next?”

NANAMI KENTO ⸺ BEAUTIFUL WIFE HAS TO FUCK HER HUSBAND'S BOSS! (NTR)

“Mr. Nanami,” you scrape a hand through your hair and clear your throat. “You wanted to see me?” 

For a moment, your husband’s handsome boss eyes you down, catching on the top button of your blouse currently unbuttoned. You mainly did it because of nervousness, the heat of the room escalating with Nanami Kento’s presence. After a long bout of intimidating silence, he finally speaks. “I assume you can guess why you are here?”

You bounce your knee as you sit across from the man, and you suddenly start sweating. Of course you can guess. Your bum of a husband—the one currently under your charge—neglects to do his deliverables, choosing to take comfort in the fact that you were his higher-up to trust that he would not be getting terminated for his lack of responsibility. 

But what he doesn’t know is that you’ve been begging Nanami not to fire him, despite the propelling and clear reasons to do so. And you fear the day he finally chooses to stop listening to you. 

“Team leader, I’m going to need much more convincing. Your team has been decreasing in productivity ever since your husband joined, and it’s hindering the company,” he reminds you stoically. “I’ve seen you working overtime far too frequently to cover up for your spouse’s negligence.”

You wish time would speed up just to get this difficult conversation with. “I—I’m going to be honest, Mr. Nanami. I don’t have much warrant to continue having him on the team, but it would put my family in much…emotional conflict if this were to happen.” The said emotional conflict would really only be from your husband. You’re sure he’s going to take this as an excuse to drink himself silly, blaming you for not being able to keep him employed. Your throat dries as you finally meet eyes with your boss, silently pleading him to come up with a solution.

“I see.” Nanami crosses his arms. “I suppose there is a…favor you could do for me.”

At that, you perk up and nod your head frantically. “Of course. Anything.”

Which is why you find yourself bent over Nanami’s desk, his cock drilling inside you. He’s ripped your stockings, pulled up your miniskirt, and put your panties to the side as he moans about how sweet your pussy feels. “I’ve been waiting for this forever. Tell me, is my cock better than his?”

“It is!” you squeal. “You’re so—so big!”

Nanami moans as he ruts inside you, your walls squeezing him tight. “Darling, I c—can tell he doesn’t treat you right. You are so tight around me, pussy’s been waiting for a while for a real man.” 

You moan and curse, blabbering affirmations while his dick impales you. Even though Nanami is the one who’s owed the favor here, his hands wind their way around your body to rub at your clit, simulating you even more, making you sob. “Please don’t stop!”

“I won’t ever, sweetheart,” he pants. “I’m going to finish inside her, okay? Make sure to keep it in when you go home and greet your husband.”

FUSHIGURO TOJI ⸺ BABE GETS IMMEDIATELY DESTROYED IN NAKED WRESTLING (WITH AN AUDIENCE)

Cheers surround you as you step into the arena. You know who your opponent is—-Fushiguro Toji. Even when you looked at his pictures earlier, you knew you were doomed. No matter what angle the photographer took the photos in, his muscles seemed to be bulging, effectively spelling out the sore defeat you were about to face today.

And there he is. Him in the flesh. He’s leaning against the boxing ring’s outer borders, head tilted back lazily while his manager, Shiu, was informing him quickly (and intensely) about the rules of today.

Nothing crazy. Only fuck when all clothes are off of her.

The way his neck is tilted back, compression shirt showing off his upper physique made you weak in the knees already. Additionally, judging based off of the bulge he seemed to be sporting in his grey sweatpants, you knew you were doubly fucked.

Shiu seems to be done talking, so he steps back and takes a seat. Toji leans his head back, rolling his neck to stretch it out, and in the middle of doing so, catches your eye.

You almost drench your panties.

His eyes darken, giving you a sultry look as he cheekily winks. While his cocky demeanor was warranted (he was much stronger and bigger than you), your cheeks heated up in both arousal and irritation.

The sound of a whistle is heard as music starts to play. The stadium’s screens flashes the cocky image of Toji, who saunters in the middle of the ring, flexing his muscles to his screaming fans.

When your signature theme plays, you do the same, to no shortage of fans yourself. You can feel everyone in the stadium, especially your male fans, rove over your figure. You’re wearing a very low cut top that displays the swell of your boobs and even tighter shorts that squeeze your ass and show off the shape of your pussy. As you walk towards Toji, you can feel his heavy gaze on you as you nervously shake his hand.

“Try to last long, okay?” Toji smirks, patting your shoulder. “I’ll try to drag this out as much as I can, but it’s gonna be fuckin hard if that ass is grinding against me.”

You glare at him, but there’s not much intensity there. “Yea, yea,” you huff. “For all I know, you’ll be my personal dildo today.”

And the fucker’s smile widens. “Let the games begin.”

Soon enough, the sound of the whistle draws you towards each other, keeping each other in a lock to tackle the other down in an objective to take off layers of their clothing. Your fans cheer when you have Toji underneath you for a split second, only for female ones to become more riotous as he easily overtakes you, pins your hands down, and wrenches your shorts off of you.

“Toji is currently in the lead!” The announcer’s voice in the stadium echoes of your defeat as you flail around, now bottoms only covered by your panties. Deciding to pull out your signature move, you maneuver so your thighs surround Toji’s waist and hump your hips against his bulge. This momentarily distracts and weakens Toji, and you take full advantage of it by overtaking him and now straddling him. You quickly take off his shirt, salivating at the muscles you see. The whole stadium, in fact, can his abs and pecs glistening with sweat.

Your attention is back to Toji as he chuckles darkly. “You’re going to regret that. I was going to drag this out, princess, but I gotta fuck the brat out of you.” With that, he puts his whole body weight on you and strips you down one by one.

The arena cheers as your lace bra is uncovered, your sweat shining on the screen as your breasts are displayed. Toji then unhooks your bra, and the roars get even louder as your tits pop out. He takes a moment to grope them, your whines ignored as he pinches your nipples. “What a sensitive girl,” he coos. “Too bad she was too weak. Now she’s going through to have to take my cock.

With that, he finally unveils your glistening pussy for all eyes to see and the crowd goes wild, chanting for Toji to finish inside you. Toji flips you over so you’re on your hands and knees and pulls down his pants.

You don’t look back at the monster that’s about to enter you for the sake of your mental health, but your legs are shaking in anticipation of his cock, slick dripping down your thighs.

“Fuck.” And Toji’s slowly entering you, the humiliating plap! plap! plap! of his hips against the flesh of your ass echoing multiple strangers watch your pussy get wrecked. “The fuck this pussy’s so tight for? Thought you were a slut?”

You’re tearing up, but not fucked out enough to prevent you from snarkily replying, “You’re not turning me on, small dick.”

He did not like that very much.

Toji drills his hips into yours faster and slaps your ass multiple times consecutively. “Yea, so why is she clenching so fucking much? Why is she dripping? Just for that, I’m going to come inside of your slutty pussy.”

The crowd chants cum, cum, cum! and Toji just does that. Ropes of his cum fill you, and you drop down in exhaustion to hear Toji declared as winner.

GOJO SATORU ⸺ GIRL GETS FUCKED BY PEEPING TOM NEXT DOOR!

You sigh, extending your back and un clipping your bra, letting your tits bounce free after a long, long week of college. It was finally Friday night, and with no one in the house due to a party the rest of your family was attending, you could finally enjoy your time home on the holidays, starting with a solo session.

You clench your thighs in anticipation as you scrolled your phone, seeking an audio you could masturbate to. And you were close to finding one, until you felt eyes on you.

These eyes were nothing new. The boy next door, Gojo Satoru, has also been your crush since middle school. Even though neither of you have ever made a move, you’ve made bold moves since starting college, stripping with the blinds open to give him a show. You had kind of had a sixth sense as to when the fucker would start watching you, and it flared as you slowly dragged your hands down. Bending over and shaking your ass, you slipped your skimpy shorts down your legs, giving him a clear view of your wet pussy.

But masturbating wasn’t enough for today. None of the college frat bros could make you cum, no matter how much they boasted about their fuckin roster, and you were tired of Satoru just watching. Just seeing him work out shirtless in his lawn, sun shining his sweat to give him a golden halo, was enough to make you sick, hungry for his dick. The way he was so shy and the mannerisms he had (as a loser) let you know he had a big fucking dick.

Needless, to say, you were tired of just fantasizing and speculating about his dick. Turning around, the moonlight allowed you to see the silhouette of his wrist moving up and down his length, even if he had tried to make his best effort to darken his rooms. Putting on your best show of an angry face, you grab your phone aggressively and dial his number.

The line rings, and he picks up. “Hey,” and you can tell he’s a little breathless. “long time no see. What’s up?”

“Cut the fucking act out,” you spit. “I know you’ve been fucking watching me, perv.”

Satoru’s panic is comically obvious over the phone as he rushes his words. “Wait, wait—listen, I—I can explain.”

“On how you’re being a peeping tom?” You glare at his window. “Come over, Gojo. Then I’ll listen to your fucking explanation.”

One thing leads to another, and now you’re spread out on your childhood bed, Gojo whimpering and whining as he plows his dick into your pussy. “You feel so—so good. M’ sorry—sorry for doing that. Your pussy is too good for me to look at.”

You laugh meanly and grab his chin. “You feel sorry yet, you pervert?” And Satoru can only cry out as you yank his head. “Remember, this is the only fucking thing you’re good at. Being my glorified dildo. Got it? Now, you’re going to fill me up only after you make me cum at least two times.”

a/n yea this was depraved….lmk what yall think tho 😭

comment and reblog I’d love to hear your thoughts! (also, requests are open heheh)

[comphy-and-cozy]

down bad - mat barzal

Pairing: Mat Barzal x unnamed OFC

Summary: Mat takes a late night booty call to the next level.

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY): Unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), creampie. Mega simp Mat. This has barely any plot but has potential to expand into a universe, maybe? Masterlist

The Snapchat notification brightens the screen for a few moments, catching Mat’s eye even while he focuses on shooting down his opponent on-screen. Beau shouts a warning in his ear, and Mat emits a low curse when he gets sniped from behind. 

After one more round, and after bidding goodbye to his friend, Mat’s attention draws back to his phone sitting on the table beside him, tapping to see who the Snapchat was from. His jaw pulses, just slightly, when he sees the name attached to the notification. Instinctually, he feels a gentle throb below the waistband of his gray sweatpants, just at the mere sight of her name.

The photo isn’t set to a timer, and Mat sends a silent thank you to the higher powers that he gets to gaze at it for as long as he desires. The foggy mirror is what he notices first, eyes quickly drawing to the generous cleavage exposed underneath the loosely-wrapped towel, a sliver of delicious skin dragging his eyes down to where the countertop regrettably cuts off the view he would have—of hip bones, leading his eyes down to the apex of two thighs he desperately wants to splay open.

There’s no caption, no commentary needed; the message is loud and clear. A calling that he responds to without fail despite his every effort to remain the nonchalant, professional athlete playboy. Obedient and eager, it’s almost Pavlovian the way his senses kick into gear when her messages come through.

Some might call him whipped, but he prefers the term ‘infatuated.’ He has been, ever since he got that first mirror selfie showing off generous curves clad in Calvin Klein underwear. He’d never admit it outside of the privacy of messages that disappear in 24 hours, but he had never come as hard as he did that night, hand gripping his length while his mind was flooded with images of that body, of those gorgeous lips, of the hips that looked like they were made for his hands.

Mat swipes through the photos he’s saved from her texts, for his eyes only. They’re more private, more sacred; selfies in bathroom mirrors with her top pulled down, videos showing a few specific details of her slutty nurse Halloween costume, and his favorite: his girl, perched on the edge of her bed, a Barzal jersey bunched up around her hips and revealing a gratuitous shot of her ass in a deep blue thong. 

When he first matched with her on Raya, he never anticipated that he’d meet up with her, let alone see her multiple times after that.  A free night in Chicago before a game, he was lying in the hotel room bed in search of his evening plans, in need of a good release. It was her eyes that drew him in first; the same eyes he stared into while she took him in her mouth later that evening. After finding heaven between her legs and climaxing so hard he saw stars, he told her he’d call her the next time he was in Chicago—and he meant it.

Since then, he returns dutifully to her bed when the Isles come to town, and he leaves the door unlocked for her when she travels to New York City for client visits as a CPA (hot and smart; a lethal combination). It’s become an excellent arrangement, the distance far enough to keep things casual, though on nights like tonight, when all he wants is to be buried inside her, he really wishes she was much closer. 

Mat’s attention snaps back to his phone when he sees another notification come through with her name on it, and this time, the dark purple square has his heart fluttering. Clicking into the video, his heart leaps into his throat when he sees the same shot as earlier, only this time, she lets her hand slip so the white towel sags against her body. He’s practically panting, eyes glued to the way she teases him, until she drops the towel altogether.

He’s hard in an instant, flipping back to his Snapchat app to send a photo back of his sweatpant-covered erection.

‘Wish you were here,’ comes her reply. ‘In the mood to get railed.’

Swallowing thickly, Mat feels the twitch against his pelvis. He lets his mind draw back to the last time he saw her; thinking about the feeling of her perfect, wet heat gripping onto him, the way she moaned his name in his ear. He hadn’t gotten more than a few hours with her, hadn’t spent enough time buried between her thighs and worshiping her the way she deserved. The way he craved to. Now, with his last trip to Chicago complete and tax season in the books, he doesn’t know the next time he’ll see her—this fall, at the earliest.

The thought flits through his mind out of nowhere. He considers it for a millisecond, then with a blink, laughs it off. Fly to see her? Tonight?

No, that would be wild, though. It’d be insane.

But you have an off-day tomorrow. You could be back before anyone would notice you’re gone.

Mat shakes his head, pushing away the impulse. He opens his phone, hoping to distract himself by scrolling on Instagram. But the thought doesn’t go away; instead, it patiently nudges at the corner of his brain, lingering until he grants it his full attention. His dick twitches again, as if it knows he’s only a few steps removed from being inside her.

A glance at the airline app can’t hurt, he thinks. Just to see if it’s even a realistic possibility.

He isn’t sure what he’s hoping to see when he opens the Delta app—the perfect timed flight, or a flight that doesn’t work with his schedule. A quick search confirms the former, and he can’t help but laugh out loud at the situation he’s found himself in. Mat shakes his head, the reality of his decision sinking in: are you really about to do this?

He texts her, hoping the distinction of message type symbolizes that he’s serious. The response comes a few minutes later, and he lets out an audible groan when he sees that she’s naked, an arm draped across her breasts seductively. The caption comes next: ‘This is what’s waiting for you if you do decide to come.’

Twenty minutes later, he’s pulling on a baseball cap as he shuts and locks his apartment door, small duffel bag in hand.

Once the Uber drops him off, he briefly notes that it’s strange to be using the public entrance, used to the special business aviation sector that the team used for travel. He could’ve taken a private jet, if he really wanted, but purchasing a commercial ticket was both quicker and easier. And much, much less embarrassing.

He’s halfway through the security line when the reality of what he’s about to do hits him, and he can’t help but laugh at himself. Purchasing and boarding a flight within an hour—for a booty call. Talk about impulsive. And desperate.

The question of ‘why?’ briefly flits through his mind, contemplating his life choices. But then his mind trails to those gorgeous lips, pressed against his mouth, his neck, his—

“Sir, may I please have your ID?”

Mat blinks, coming back to reality, embarrassed that he let his imagination run wild in the middle of the fucking airport. As he pulls his wallet out of his pocket, he does his best to subtly adjust the half-hard erection threatening to make an appearance, smiling innocently at the TSA agent.

If he’s recognized by anyone, no one says anything, though he keeps his head down as he finds his way to his gate. ‘Chicago’ lines the monitor, the flight number and departure times floating across the bottom of the screen. Her last text buzzes in his pocket once he takes a seat, duffel bag seated on the floor by his feet.

The text is actually a photo that has him slapping the face of his phone against his leg, glancing around to make sure no one near him is in sight of his screen. Once he’s sure he’s in safe territory, he sneaks a glance at it again, thirsty for another peek of her completely nude body, a sizable pink dildo pressed against her pouty lips.

Hurry up, the message reads. I’m getting impatient.

Mat hopes nobody notices the way he twitches beneath the dark fabric of his joggers, willing his erection to chill the fuck out as he gets in line to board the plane. 

When he lands 3 hours later, Mat’s knee bounces anxiously as he glances out to watch the plane make its way down the tarmac. A quick check on his Maps app tells him he isn’t far from her apartment, and he sends a silent prayer that he can get deplaned quickly. 

Waiting is excruciating, and he already has the Uber app loaded as he exits the plane, a ride called by the time he steps off of the jet bridge. Mat’s footsteps quicken when he sees the signs pointing toward baggage claim, and it isn’t long until he’s getting into a red Toyota Camry, his driver, Todd, greeting him from the front seat.

‘The door is unlocked,’ her text read. ‘I’m in the bedroom.’

The lights are off when he enters, though the light over the sink illuminates the small kitchen just enough for him to toe his shoes off and head toward the bedroom door. Mat’s heart thuds in his chest as he nears it, nears her, fingers itching to caress every inch of her body. His dick gives another wanton pulse, like it knows its wait is almost over. 

What he sees when he opens the door has him speechless—and that’s hard to do to Mat Barzal. 

The room is dark save for the small string of fairy lights by her window and a sandalwood candle burning on the bedside table. Flickering candlelight casts a warm glow over the room, dancing on the panoramic photo of Wrigley Field on the wall across from her bed.

But Mat isn’t looking at any of that. 

Instead, his eyes are locked on his girl, lying on the bed, gazing straight at him. She’s completely naked, save for the very sheer black lace kimono, untied in the front, revealing her bareness to him entirely. Her legs are spread in a way that he has the perfect view. The warmth of the candle makes her skin look like it’s glowing, soft and golden and delicious.

This time, his dick doesn’t just twitch. It throbs. 

He thinks he might’ve let out a whimper, dropping his bag on the floor; his body moves of its own accord, approaching her bed and immediately slotting between her legs. His lips are on hers before he even realizes it, unable to deny the yearning to feel her touch any longer.

“Hi,” he murmurs against her mouth. She giggles, lips curling into a smile against his own. “Missed you.”

Her reply is a hum, hands carding through his hair, hat knocked on the floor. His lips suck, lick, and nip their way over her jaw and to the place he can feel her pulse against his lips. Mat likes the way she shivers when his breath skitters over her skin, body shuddering at the sensation. 

“Can’t believe you’re actually here,” she breathes, drawing his lips back up to hers for a heated kiss. The pressure mounts, his tongue desperately seeking out the seam of her mouth; involuntarily, his hips begin a slow grind, pressed right against her bare heat. There’s no hiding or denying his own rigid erection, groaning at the feeling of finally getting some friction after hours of waiting.

“Had to have you,” he whispers back. “Teasin’ me with those pictures like that.”

She moans when his mouth makes a sloppy, wet path from her jaw, down her neck, over her collarbones, landing on her breast. Mat licks and sucks every inch of skin he touches, drinking in the taste of her nipple between his lips. “Makin’ me so hard with these tits.”

“Just wanted to see if you were really whipped enough to fly here,” she purrs, raking her hand over his scalp when he takes her hardened peak between his teeth, biting down. His cheeks warm, embarrassed at the attention to just how desperate he is for her.

But he can’t deny it, so he doesn’t. Instead, he allows himself to indulge in her body, thinking that he might as well live up to his newfound title. 

“Need this pussy like I need water, baby,” he says with a sleek grin, letting his hand drift between her thighs, hissing with delight when he finds her drenched.  She rolls her eyes at the exaggerated comment, though she can’t ignore the flutter in her belly at his carnal need for her.

Her mouth opens to quip back, and he revels in the way a gasp usurps whatever sass she was about to deliver when he plunges a finger into her tight heat. She grips his digits snugly, squeezing him so tightly he wonders how he’s gonna fit another finger in, let alone his dick. The appendage gives another wanton throb.

The lemony jasmine of her shampoo invades his senses as his hand continues to pump, working his girl into a slow, maddening frenzy. Her back arches upward, kimono falling open so she’s all but bare to him. The slope of her breasts, curve of her waist, soft breath of her whimper draw him into her, pulling him into her trance.

Mat can tell by the high pitch in her whine that she’s bordering on desperate for something more. Slipping in another finger, he smirks against her lips when he hears the audible squelch of his digits pressing into her drenched center. The sound has his mouth watering, suddenly quenched of thirst. 

Gripping the plush, soft skin of her thighs, Mat pries her legs open—“jus’ a little more for me, sweetheart”—to make room for his broad shoulders before shifting his body down until he’s at eye-level with her waiting, wanting core. He doesn’t wait for her whimper before he’s pressing his face against her, moaning when his tongue tastes her slick. 

His girl is divine, her pussy a certain, secret entrance to the pearly gates. Each lap of his tongue isn’t nearly enough to curb his addiction, the craving never satiated. Her fingers twist into the long locks of his hair, tugging and pulling him exactly where she needs him; he’s pliant, moldable, eager to please. He’d devour her cunt whole, if he could. 

Unabashed moans encourage Mat to allow his fingers to rejoin his tongue, teasing the swollen nub at the apex of her gorgeous, heavenly slit. He drinks in her nectar like it’s the elixir of life, greedy and indulgent. The soft moans that he coaxes from her throat are just an added bonus.

He’s precise, paying close attention to the way she reacts to each flick of his tongue, each twist of his fingers. Between the choked gasps slipping from her pretty lips and the way her thighs tighten around his head, he knows he’s close—that she’s close. 

Another long, languid suck of her clit sends her hurtling into orgasm, spine arching off of the mattress. Mat’s hand rests firmly on her hip, holding her in place even despite the way her body writhes with the force of her release; he savors the taste of her flooding his mouth. 

Mat loses track of how many times he makes her come, flooding his mouth with her nectar. Three? Four? Five? His jaw aches, his mouth, chin and cheeks glistening with evidence of her arousal like he’s at a fucking all-you-can-eat buffet. He wishes Lou would let him grow a beard so he could taste her on his face for hours.

“Matty,” she sighs, and he can hear in her voice that she’s done with the foreplay. Her hands weakly tug at the cotton of his t-shirt in an attempt to draw him up to her. He obeys, pressing his mouth to her lips, letting her taste herself on his tongue; as he does, the clothed tip of his erection bumps against her open, waiting center, and she whines.

“I know, baby,” he coos, massaging the inside of her thigh with a large hand. She’s practically putty underneath his touch. “Wanna fuck you so bad I think my dick might fall off.”

“Too many clothes,” she says, voice still distant and hazy from her orgasms. Mat feels a smug sense of satisfaction at the way she weakly paws at his clothes, fingers searching for purchase in the cotton of his t-shirt. She’s right, though, and he wrenches his body from hers in favor of pulling his shirt over his head.

Heat floods her eyes and Mat watches the way her gaze falls to the cut lines of his muscle, shamelessly running over the abs and the biceps he’s worked so hard on. He’d be lying if he didn’t think of her—think of this—on the early mornings he dreaded getting out of bed to workout; the thought of her lips, her hips, her body never failing to encourage him to do one more rep. Mat knows his role, his duty, as the professional athlete: maintain the god-like physique that has her all but drooling.

And when she looks at him like that, how is he supposed to deny it?

Mat shimmies his pants off, palming his aching erection through his boxer briefs. His girl’s hand reaches up to aid him, the thin material barely a barrier between her skin and his, and he can’t help but groan at the contact.

“How long have you had this?” she purrs, stroking him leisurely. He can hardly process her words and she’s barely touched him.

“Since—fuck—since you sent me that picture.” His voice is more of a choked whisper, breath hitching in his throat when she offers him an affectionate squeeze.

“But that was hours ago, Matty,” she says, but the evil glint in her eye tells him that she isn’t really feeling sympathy for him; instead, there’s smug pride hidden behind a coy smile. “You must be desperate.”

All Mat can do is hum in response, every nerve on heightened alert as her hand drags slow, languid lines up and down his length. He knows if he opens his mouth, only nonsensical gibberish is going to come out and probably ruin the moment.

“Desperate enough to fly from Long Island to Chicago just to fuck me,” she continues musing. “I’m flattered.”

Pulling himself together—eyes closing when she gives him a squeeze—Mat steels himself to say, “Best pussy I’ve ever had. ‘Course I’m desperate for you.”

“Aww, Matty,” she says with a wry, teasing smile. “You have such a way with words.”

Impatience huffs out of Mat’s lips, doing his best to suppress a whine and a plea to please, grant him some relief. “Let me fuck you, baby.”

Her fingers dip into the waistband of his boxer briefs, tugging it down before he’s hurriedly shucking the material down his hips. “You gonna be polite?”

“Please,” he tacks on, pressing himself forward to connect his lips with hers, needing something—anything—to take the edge off. “Please, baby, swear I’ll fuck you so good.”

His girl hums, returning his kiss, letting his tongue slide into her mouth; symbolic in its action as he teases, dragging the muscle in and out in intentional, suggestive motions. He shifts his approach, letting his voice take on the sickly sweet, honeyed purr that she loves. “Know you want it, sweet girl. Bet you’re jus’ drippin’ for it, aren’t you?”

“Why don’t you find out?”

If Mat had a single ounce of resistance left in him, he’d tease her back, but he can’t draw out his own torture any longer. He lets his hand trail down her body, meeting her own that’s wrapped around his hard, bare length. His fingers brush against her, placing themselves over her hand before guiding himself toward the apex of her thighs. She smiles against his mouth, exhaling softly as his tip broaches her entrance.

“Think I can hear her purring for me,” he says, pressing his hips forward to plunge into her with a groan. A gasp leaves her mouth, hands quickly finding purchase in the dips of his shoulders. The feeling of her walls gripping him tightly nearly makes his eyes roll back in his head.

There isn’t a whisper of a retort on her tongue, his quick-witted girl rendered speechless with him sheathed inside her. As much as he loves her quick wit and feisty attitude, he can’t deny that it’s extremely satisfying to be the one to shut her up. 

For awhile, he’s content to simply stay that way, feeling the way her walls flutter around him, her body silently begging for more. But then she remembers how to speak, saying, “Mat, fuck me.”

It takes a moment to ensure he isn’t going to completely ruin everything by finishing immediately, but once he does, he lets his hips tick forward, then back, then forward again. He works the pace up to one that earns a lusty gasp in his ear, arms holding himself above her, silver chain dangling between his neck and her chin. 

“Squeezin’ onto me like your life depends on it, baby,” he grunts. “Fuck, this cunt is so worth the 3 hour flight. Would charter a private jet just to have it in my bed every single night.”

She hums, responding by wrapping her legs around his waist, welcoming him deeper. “Better make the most of it then, Barzal.”

And, well, when she puts it like that.

Mat fucks her slow, fucks her fast, doing his best to remember everything he’s thought about doing to her since he kissed her goodbye when he slipped out of her apartment two months ago. His voice is low in her ear, filthy words strung together between nips at her neck and sloppy, heated kisses against her mouth. She feels so fucking good, and he makes sure to tell her that—communication has always been one of his stronger points.

He presses his hips firmly against the backs of her thighs, burying himself as deep as he can go. His hands wander freely, one making a path between her neck and her breast, the other languidly trailing along the slope of her ass.

Her ass. Of course.

Lost in the euphoria of seeing her, touching her, tasting her, he’d almost forgotten about his very favorite body part of hers—the one he thought about on nights where he missed her, furiously fisting his length, that never failed to bring him to orgasm. Slowing his hand’s movements, he matches his smooth strokes to the tempo of his fingers kneading the globes of her ass. 

She loves it. He can tell in the way her hips roll, grinding herself against him, a feral-sounding moan coming from deep in her throat. Mat can practically feel the orgasm building inside of her, keeping his movements careful and precise, unwilling to change a single thing; he can’t tame the desire to feel her come around him.

“Matty,” she whimpers, a hand slipping between their bodies to rub at her clit. His eyes glance down to the movement, cursing lowly at the sight. “M’close.”

“Yeah, baby? You gonna come for me? Come on my cock after I flew all this way just to fuck you?”

If she tries to answer, nothing comes out other than another moan. Her eyes squeeze shut, and he imagines the fireworks that will soon dance beneath her eyelids. Fingers stroke at her soft skin, almost as if he’s willing her orgasm into existence. He lowers his voice to murmur, “I’ve been dreaming about feeling you come all over me for weeks, baby. It’s the least you can do.”

When she reaches the precipice, her body freezes beneath him, time standing still for a millisecond as she shatters. He can almost feel the way it courses through her, the way her pussy clamps onto him so tightly he sees stars of his own. 

It’s glorious. Sinfully, decadently, maddeningly exquisite. 

Mat’s patient with her comedown, whispering soft words of encouragement, hips resuming a gentle motion that probes her sensitive core. She whines, pawing at his shoulder to push him away. Her voice is gentle, a soft command. “Matty.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says with a cheeky smile. “Y’feel too good.”

He’s aware, though, wants to give her a moment of reprieve before he bends her over the way he wants to. So, he suppresses a huff as he pulls out of her delicious heat, distracting himself from the loss by kissing her hotly. She seems distracted, too, sighing into his mouth, enjoying the way it feels like he’s devouring her whole.

“Wanna fuck you from behind,” he murmurs against her lips. “Watch this ass bounce on me.”

Mat helps her up, allowing her to tear her lips away from his in favor of flipping over. Once she’s settled on her hands and knees, the mattress dipping slightly beneath her weight, he takes a moment to admire the view: pussy glistening with the remnants of her orgasm, framed by the globes of her perfect ass. Heaven. 

“Gotta be inside you,” he says, a statement that’s more like a declaration.

“Quit making me wait.”

His eyebrow raises. “Thought we were being polite.”

“You are. I can be whatever I want,” she shoots back with a smile. His dick gives another mild twitch.

Mat hums. “Guess I better give the lady what she wants, then.”

Judging by the way she’s backing up to meet him, he assumes she’s had plenty of reload time and slips back into her. This time, he doesn’t take his time to ramp up, instead setting a grueling pace from the start, his hands gripping tightly onto her hips. 

A groan, followed by a loud curse. “Think about this every damn day. You, taking it from behind like this. Bent over jus’ for me.”

Her reply is to lean forward farther, spreading her arms forward onto the mattress and opening herself to him even more. Mat accepts the invitation to drive deeply into her, hips slapping loudly against the back of her thighs. The thought of her neighbors briefly flits through his mind, but another glance back down at her ass has that consideration slipping away as quickly as it came. He doesn’t care who hears or who he wakes up; hell, he’d be fine telling the entire world that he gets to fuck her.

“Since you came all this way, you deserve a treat,” she says, twisting her head to glance over her shoulder at him. The sight of her peachy, round ass and her bedroom eyes looking up at him makes his balls tighten.

“And what might that be?” Mat accentuates the question by squeezing her hips tightly. He swallows down the comment that this, here, being inside of her, is already reward enough.

“I’ll let you come inside.”

Since their trysts began, she’s made Mat relieve himself elsewhere—her chest, her ass, her face; his mind briefly flits to each, reminiscing on the mental snapshot he took each time. The thought of not just not having to pull out moments before the strongest climaxes of his life, but at the idea of finishing inside of her is enough to have his heart pulsing rapidly in his chest. 

“Yeah? You want me to fill you up?” he says with a grin, leaning forward to brush his lips against her ear. The action presses him even deeper inside of her, his hips snug against the curve of her ass as he whispers, “Fuck my load deep inside this perfect little cunt?”

She nods, mouth opening in a silent gasp when he gives a particularly hard thrust. “Yeah. Wanna feel you, Matty.”

Her eyes shoot open when he pauses his movements, glancing back at him in protest when he pulls away. Both hands pull lightly on her hips, encouraging her to flip over onto her back. When she does, her eyes catch his and he smiles. 

“Wanna see your face when I come,” he says with a shrug, easing himself back into her waiting core. 

“Oh, he’s down bad.”

He laughs, face crinkling into a smile despite the way the burn of euphoria builds in his stomach. A hand drags down the outside of her leg, tucking her calf around his hip. “Fuck off.”

“Are you gonna come in me or not?”

“You begging for it?” 

The four words dramatically change the mood; Mat watches her eyes darken as they sink in. Like he gave a secret code to have her submissive and pliant beneath him. Her voice is barely above a whisper, her lips pouty. “Please, Matty.”

Mat slows his hips, savoring the way her pussy sucks him in, greedy. He can’t help the grin that curls up on his face, watching the way her eyebrows knit together. “You’re gonna have to do better than that, sweetheart.”

“Please, baby,” she whines, “wanna feel you come in me. I—I need it.”

He hums. “Been dreaming about filling this tight pussy up for months, baby. Wanna watch my cum drip out of this slutty little cunt.”

“Please,” is her whispered plea—quiet and desperate.

“You sound so pretty when you beg,” he says with a smirk. The pace of his hips increase, balls tightening with the threat of his climax. He listens to her moans, the sound of his skin against hers, the rustle of the sheets beneath his knees. His girl’s hands tighten around his shoulders, holding onto him as she absorbs the weight of his thrusts, body shifting up and down on the mattress. 

Mumbles of her name, of obscenities, flow out of his mouth, low murmurs in her ear. His rhythm starts to falter, no longer a steady metronome but a series of sloppy, uneven thrusts as Mat finds it harder and harder to stay focused. 

The release starts deep in his core, bursting through with a loud groan as he finally meets his end, reveling in the feeling of spilling inside of her. It’s freeing to have no barriers between him and her, to feel her in all of her pure, whole self, the way she contracts tightly around him as her own final climax barrels through her. Mat’s vision goes fuzzy, and for a moment he’s pretty sure his soul ascends out of his body.

It occurs to Mat that he’s slumped on top of her, panting into the crook of her neck while soft, small hands trace lazy lines up and down his spine. The touch ignites his nerve endings, sending another wave of consciousness through his system. Her nails drag delicious, soothing lines onto his scalp, and he feels his throat vibrate against her collarbone in a moan. His vision gradually grows from fuzzy to just a bit of a haze when he peels his eyes open.

“Baby, that was the—”

“Hardest you’ve ever come?”

Mat blinks, fully back in reality now, shifting his head to look at her in disbelief. “How did you know?”

She chuckles, lips brushing against his ear. “You said that last time, too.”

[suashii]

— 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝓊𝓈𝓉 ౨ৎ

okkotsu yuta x f!reader. 2.1k wc. ﾉ nsfw (mdni) ﾉ characters aged 21+ ﾉ step-brother!yuta ﾉ stepcest ﾉ dubcon (via alcohol) ﾉ hand job ﾉ mentions of blow jobs

when your mother remarries and yuta comes into your life to fill the role of step-brother, you aren’t exactly sure what to expect.

you’ve never had a brother before, no one to threaten boys in an attempt to discourage them from breaking your heart or annoy you when you have friends over for the night. and you anticipate that he’ll fit the mold, fall into the standard that’s been set by your friends. as unfamiliar as you are with siblings of the male variety—you don’t consider yuta’s behavior as brotherly.

he’s kind, and you suppose that’s a trait that can be attached to brothers—but not in the way yuta is nice. there’s something… different about the way he smiles at you, like he’s thinking about things other than what you’re talking about, like there's something else on his mind that you aren’t privy to. it’s a pretty smile, you acknowledge every time you see, but it makes you a bit uneasy.

the things he does for you feel more like acts boyfriends take on—opening doors for you, zipping up your coat, offering to take your makeup off after a long day. it’s hard to turn him away or tell him no, especially when he insists on helping you out. how can you deny him when he wears a pout that’s practically begging for your permission to lend a hand? and, as he says, he’s your brother, after all.

you’re close, but not in the way siblings should be. he tells you a lot, things that he shouldn’t feel comfortable telling his sister, things about his relationships that you have no business knowing, that make your cheeks warm up and your teeth bite down on your lip. he asks about yours, too, curious to know whether or not the boys you bring around are satisfying you, “the way they should be,” he likes to say. you’re never quite sure how to answer him or just why he’s so interested in parts of your life that are meant to be private.

things have gotten even stranger since the two of you moved out of your parent’s home, relocating to live on your own and start lives outside of your family unit. yuta still makes an effort to visit you often, going out of his way to make sure the apartment you end up renting isn't too far from his. you’re sure that if it were up to him, he’d have you living in his spare room.

he’s over your place now with the intention of “catching up” despite seeing you only a week ago. his presence in your home has become a normal one, so much so that you’ve gone out of your way to get him his own pair of slippers and even make sure that your fridge is always stocked with enough food for two.

neither of you has paid the dinner you made much mind, you focusing on your wine and yuta focusing on you. you’ve almost gotten used to being the subject of his dark stare, but you’ll admit that meeting it is a little easier with alcohol in your system. another sip of the beverage is enough for you to find your voice. “so, how’s that girl you’ve been seeing?”

whether it’s because your living room is dimly lit or because you’re starting to feel the effects of the wine, you swear you see yuta deflate with your question. the lighting isn’t tricking you—his shoulders do slump a bit upon hearing your query. he knows he’s forthcoming with information regarding his relationships but he thought he made the fact clear; that all of these girls are simply placeholders for the one he truly wants. you don’t seem to have caught on. “i’m not seeing her anymore.”

you snort, swirling your wine in its glass. “what was it about this one?”

yuta’s turnover rate with girlfriends is something to gawk at—you don’t think you could count the number of women he’s wooed over the years even if you tried… not that you’ve ever found yourself keeping track. it should be a glaring red flag, how quickly he moves on from one to the next without batting an eye, but you merely chalk it up to him being a bit of a player. and that much should mean nothing to you. guys who sleep around aren’t your type and even if you didn’t mind the lifestyle, yuta is off-limits.

not that you’ve ever thought of him in that way.

yuta shrugs. “she just wasn’t right for me.”

“is anyone?” a giggle bubbles up from your chest and it makes yuta’s heart jump, bang against his ribcage like it’s trying to escape and make its way into your hands. he’s met with a sick thought, a little voice in the back of his head whispering that your hands are where his heart belongs. “you know, you’re super picky.”

he grins at your claim. it wouldn’t be untrue to say that he has acquired a specific taste, a fixed hunger, over the past few years. “picky” isn’t quite the right word—he prefers “particular”. “i’m not, i just know what i want.”

you nod, bringing your glass to your lips. “and what’s that?”

“you.”

the little bit of wine that made it into your mouth is sputtered back into the glass as yuta’s confession wafts through the air. you’re too busy trying to compose yourself to see the way the corners of yuta’s mouth twitch at your reaction—how his gaze falls to your lips to watch how you lick them to clean up the mess of wine.

 you’ve always thought that he’s treated you like someone other than a sister but you never imagined he’d come right out and say it, and so shamelessly, at that. your cheeks heat up as the single word hangs in the air, the warmth spreading up to the tips of your ears and some other place that you try not to acknowledge.

what’s worse, the admission doesn’t make your stomach churn in disgust. it doesn’t urge you to stand up and kick him out—tell him not to come back and leave you alone for good. because as much as you like to deny it, to push those sickening feelings down into the deepest, darkest depths of you, there’s a piece of you that feels the same.

“you’ve thought about it, too, haven’t you?” yuta’s voice cuts through the thick, suffocating air surrounding you. there’s an edge to his tone that you haven’t heard before that has you dragging your bashful gaze up to his.

“it’s okay.  there’s nothing wrong with it,” he reassures you as if he can hear the doubts swimming in your head like angry piranhas. his hand finds yours and you jump at the contact but you don’t pull away. the pad of his thumb runs over your knuckles, calloused skin comforting you in a way it shouldn’t as he continues. “we’re not actually related—only by title.”

“yeah but… what would people think?” it’s taboo, you know that much—it’s why you’ve been so hellbent on suppressing those nagging feelings of attraction throughout the years. though, with his confession now out in the open, those very feelings are trying to crawl their way up from the depths of your chest—they’re surfacing.

“no one has to know.” yuta lightly shakes his head to emphasize his point. the eyes staring you down are glistening with desire, like your question has given the man hope for a long sought-after fantasy. “we can keep it between us… our little secret.”

you chew the inside of your cheek as you ponder over his suggestion. the rational part of you is screaming to snatch your hand away and point him to the door but the part of you led by longing and lust urges you to stay put, to see this through. the two thoughts are like a floating angel and devil on each of your shoulders, both of them whispering in your ear, playing tug-of-war to see which side will win your favor. 

the push you need to make a decision comes in the form of yuta himself, the man lifting your hand from your lap to his lips. a light kiss brushes your knuckles before he guides your palm to the tent between his legs. you suck in a surprised gasp at the contact your hand makes with the hard bulge.

 “see what you do to me?” yuta breathes out, light and airy, “only you can do this to me.” 

a twisted sense of pride sprouts in your chest upon hearing his declaration. yuta has never hidden the fact that you’re special to him but you never imagined just how special that was. the statement gives you the confidence to touch him of your own will, hand tentatively rubbing over his clothed erection.

yuta lets out a shattered breath and the sound has your hand stilling and your gaze darting up to his—like a bunny spooked by unexpected commotion. his free hand makes its way up to cradle the side of your face, thumb running up and down your cheek. “keep going, baby.”

you swallow and nod your head, hand picking up where it left off in its exploration over his jeans. as pretty as the quiet moans yuta releases into the air are, you can’t help but think it would feel better—for the both of you—if there wasn’t a denim barrier between the two of you.

your fingers reluctantly reach for his belt before pausing in their path. you look up at him through your eyelashes. “c-can i?”

yuta didn’t think it was possible for him to get even more turned on—not after your initial acceptance, not after he finally felt your touch, but your questions has his pants growing uncomfortably tighter. you’ve always been cute in his eyes but your asking for permission gives him all the more reason to find you absolutely adorable. “please.”

dark eyes follow your fingers as they fumble to unbuckle the man’s belt. you’re not sure whether your shaky hands are due to nerves or excitement but the trembling doesn’t go unnoticed by yuta and when you get his pants and boxers down his hips, he places a steady hand on your quivering one.

it’s warm and big around yours and you don’t question his action, only let him take your hand, guide it to the cock you’ve just pulled out. you’re no longer afraid to admit that you’ve thought about it before—what yuta’s cock looked like. it’s different seeing the real thing and you find your mouth drying with the sight, lips parted as yuta continues to steer your hand.

both of you gasp when your palm meets his skin, dragging beads of precum down yuta’s shaft with his guidance. beyond your mingled breaths, the lewd squelching that accompanies each assisted stroke of yuta’s cock sounds in the otherwise quiet air.

yuta grunts as he helps you jerk his cock, a pleasure he’s never felt before washing over him. “f-fuck—” he chokes out, “i knew you’d feel this good.”

your hand alone is better than any mouth or pussy he’s been in—it fits like a glove, fingers grazing every vein just right, brushing over his slit, squeezing his shaft. god—if your hand feels this good, yuta can only imagine what it’ll be like to have your lips wrapped around him, to be buried in the warmth of your cunt. he wonders if you know just what effect you have on him, if you’re aware of how much of a mess the mere thought of you turns him into. 

the moment you look up at him with those doe-ish eyes of yours, he can’t hold out any longer.

and with a series of strangled moans, yuta comes, ropes of warm cum shooting over your joined hands. you can feel him soften in your hand as you stroke his cock through his high, his musical whimpers meeting your ears.

when he finds his voice, yuta speaks up. “made me come so good.”

his hand finally lifts from yours and you’d complain about the cold, empty feeling if it wasn’t relocated beneath your chin. yuta tips your head up, leaning down to steal a kiss. his lips are pillowy and soft as they dance with yours and you moan into his mouth when his tongue seeks yours. it’s a messy, wet kiss, but one that has you yearning for more—more of his lips, more of his cock, more of him.

you let out a muffled squeal when you feel yourself reclining, yuta’s weight and imposing presence hovering above you as you come to lie back on the couch. you suck in a breath after yuta pulls away. he presses his forehead against yours, meeting your widened gaze.

“let me take care of you, baby.”

heyooo ! this is my first time writing a solo piece for yuta — it was fun! hope you enjoyed and if you did, consider reblogging and offering some feedback :3

[s4no]

TOKREV: BDSM CLUB, PT. I

+ feat: manjiro sano, ken ryuuguji, takashi mitsuya, chifuyu matsuno, kazutora hanemiya, keisuke baji, tetta kisaki & hanma shuji

+ cw: fem!reader, each character will have their own cws, MDNI !!

+ summary: what they get up to at a bdsm club.

+ a/n: repost from my old account! all characters are aged 21+ @enchantedforest-network @bitchcraftinc

ಇ  𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗝𝗜𝗥𝗢 𝗦𝗔𝗡𝗢. + cw: unprotected sex, mentions of plan b manjiro sano walks into the club like he owns the place— and he could if he wanted to, a thick stack of crisp hundred dollar bills tucked away inside the pocket of his jeans. he doesn't even glance at the girls until he's had a drink or two, but once he loosens up a little, he's there to have some fun. he usually searches for one of two types of women. on one hand, he enjoys the sweet, shy kind. the kind that unevitably fall apart on his cock, tears brimming in their eyes as the babble incoherently. but sometimes, he finds the biggest brat on shift and spends the rest of the night taming her into submission. while condoms are highly recommended, they're not required, and as long as manjiro has been coming to the club, you've never seen him use one. you usually lose count how many times he cums inside you, your stomach bloated and filled with his seed. each time he finishes, he just ends up fucking it back inside you. after all, he's giving you more than enough to pay for plan b.

ಇ  𝗞𝗘𝗡 𝗥𝗬𝗨𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗝𝗜. + cw: implied size difference draken always recieves a warm welcome when he comes to the club. the girls swarm to his side to bat their lashes and ask him where he's been, why he didn't come around to see them earlier. and he always assures them that there's certainly enough attention to go around. he doesn't even get halfway through a drink before there's a woman seated in his lap, another sucking bruises into his neck. once he's had a taste of all his options, he typically chooses one girl for the night— which happens to be you tonight. he takes you to a private room and doesn't waste any time putting a condom on and bullying his thick cock inside of you. he thinks it's endearing the way your legs start to tremble halfway down his length, how you whine that it's just too much. with a smirk on his face, he assures you he'll make it fit and thumbs your clit until you loosen up enough for him to sink in all the way.

ಇ  𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗜 𝗠𝗜𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗬𝗔. + cw: cock warming, spreader bar (r), impact play (r) mitsuya is friends with everyone at the club. from the bartenders to the dungeon master to the security, he chats them all up before indulging himself. when he finally sits down, he beckons you over and tells you he'd like his cock warmed while he enjoys his drink. he makes you do all the work of unbuckling his belt and stroking him until he's hard, straddling his torso and lowering yourself onto his length. once you're situated, he sips his drink and lazily plays with your clit, tsking when you start to squirm. it seems like eternity before he finishes his drink, and he revels in the way your pussy pulses around him with need. lifting you off him, he leads you over to one of the walls, choosing his weapon of demise: a spreader bar. he secures it between your knees and commands you to keep your hands planted on the wall while delivering brutal slaps to your soaked cunt, chuckling lowly when your body jolts from the impact.

ಇ  𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗙𝗨𝗬𝗨 𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢. + cw: voyeurism, oral (g), exhibitionism baji practically has to carry chifuyu into the club. it doesn't matter how many times they go, his nerves always get the best of him. he's a complete mess, blushing and staring at the floor. at least, until he gets a little liquor in his system. once he's more relaxed, he finally lets his eyes wander around, watching various pairs play with each other. he doesn't even realize he's been staring until he looks down at his lap and notices the large bulge in his pants. he looks so cute, sitting there all flustered like he doesn't know what to do with himself. that's when you approach him, leaning down and placing your hand over his erection, whispering how you can take care of his little problem. it's all chifuyu can do to keep from falling out of his chair as you pull his dick out and take it into your mouth, head bobbing as your hand pumps the base. his eyes squeeze shut as pleasure trills up his spine, and when he opens them, he finds himself being watched by multiple people. it has him cumming much sooner than he anticipated.

ಇ  𝗞𝗔𝗭𝗨𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗔 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗘𝗠𝗜𝗬𝗔. + cw: marking (r), nipple clamps (r), handjob (g) kazutora is a wild card depending on how much alcohol he consumes. at the beginning of the night, he's calm and collected, composed as he picks you out from the girls walking around the room. leading you to one of the velvet couches, he takes his time marking you up, placing clamps on your peaked nipples and covering your chest in lovebites in the shape of a 'K'. however, the more he drinks, the more his composure starts to slip away. all of his teasing begins to backfire and soon he's whining as you grind down against his cock. he buries his head in the crook of your neck, and you find it adorable how desperate he is, how his hips needily buck up against you. you're quick to pull his dick out, smearing the precum over the tip until he's begging for release. his head lolls back as you jerk him off, and the sounds that escape him are downright pornographic. pathetic whimpers and deep groans fill the space between you, and his entire body shudders as he shoots his load, cumming all over your hand.

ಇ  𝗞𝗘𝗜𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗘 𝗕𝗔𝗝𝗜. + cw: collaring & leashing (r), butt plug (r), pet play during the first hour, baji usually hangs out with chifuyu, sipping his drink and pointing out girls he finds attractive. they watch a couple of stripteases and pole dances, tucking dollar bills under bra straps and into the waistbands of lacy panties. hell, baji may even get a lap dance. but the true fun doesn't begin until baji beckons you over and secures a collar around your neck. he undresses you slowly, until the collar is the only thing you're wearing, and then he runs his hands over your curves, groping and squeezing your soft flesh between his fingers before pushing them into your mouth. once they're nice and slick, he draws them out only to start prodding at your ass, easing his middle finger inside your puckered hole. from there, he stretches you open enough to fit a butt plug, one that vibrates with a bunny tail attached. you're his pet to ruin for the night, and after he's done playing with you, he proceeds to connect a leash to your collar and lead you around the club, letting everyone get a good look at his cum leaking out of you.

ಇ  𝗧𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗔 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗔𝗞𝗜. + cw: gloryhole, spitting (r), slapping (r), choking (r), fingering kisaki has a routine when he goes to the club. every single night, he walks around and scopes out the available girls in search of the perfect one. admittedly, he's not entirely sure what exactly he's looking for. but he needs her to be perfect. each time he doesn't find her, he takes his frustration out on whomever is working the gloryhole. he fucks the mouth of a nameless, faceless girl, tossing the money onto the floor when he's done. but eventually kisaki finds her— you. from then on, he only goes to you, abadoning the gloryhole and ignoring every other woman that approaches him. sometimes he comes in while you tend to other clients, and it always unnerves you because he sits down and watches you. waits for you to finish, stewing in anger. the moment your client leaves and he gets his hands on you, you learn the extent of his jealousy. he's ruthless, delivering harsh smacks across your cheeks and spitting into your mouth. with three fingers stuffed inside your cunt and his other hand wrapped around your throat, he taunts you about your previous client and makes you beg for forgiveness.

ಇ  𝗦𝗛𝗨𝗝𝗜 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗠𝗔. + cw: handcuffs (r), oral (g), face-fucking, deep throating as soon as hanma steps foot into the club, he wants to get his dick wet. he grabs himself a drink and a girl, restraining her hands behind her back in a pair of cuffs. he forces you to kneel before him, sucking him off while he converses with the other men, acting much too casually for someone getting head. other than a couple of commands, he doesn't offer any help, giving you free reign until he's close. when he satisified with your efforts, he rises to his feet and tangles a hand in your hair, holding your head in place while he fucks your face. with each thrust of his hips, the tip of his dick slams against the back of your throat, and you can't help but gag around him. but if you try to draw away, he retaliates— holding your head down so your nose is pressed against his pelvis. he's amused by the way you start to thrash, spit dribbling down your chin and making a mess on your chest. only when you completely submit to him does he graciously cum down your throat.

[jayke0]

And They Were Roommates

Pairing: Marc Spector x fem reader

Summary: You catch your roommate, Marc, having some private time, and it's only when he comes at the sight of you that something inside you is released.

Rating: nsfw, smut

Warnings/Content: Friends to lovers?, Male masturbation, fluffy/soft sex, Marc being insecure at first cuz he hasn't had his chode ridden in a while, some nipple play (f receiving), protected sex (pill), mention of female masturbation, p in v, breeding if you squint, creampie, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).

Word count: 2,275

A/N: Uhmmmm so i accidentally posted this too early, so if you see it please reblog so it reaches others! Thankyouuuu

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.

…………......................………………………………….

Marc Spector had always found himself to be a very private man. You're lucky to have even gotten a glimpse at his phone that one time, given how precisely he guards what little personal belongings he has and hides his emotions behind a stone-cold glare.

That's why he always waits for you to go out before he touches himself.

He'd gotten into the habit of it after realizing the wall dividing your bedrooms is so paper thin that he could hear every word the character was saying on whatever show you'd been watching at the time.

The anticipation; the waiting was always the worst. You'd take your sweet sweet time getting ready and checking your shopping list, only to forget something and come back 2 minutes later; luckily, he'd gotten used to that part too. Though, as much as he pretended he hated it, he actually found it quite endearing; a little quirk of yours that made you so fucking adorable to him.

“I'll be back in an hour!” Marc hears your voice echo through the hall, simply responding with a grunt that was somewhere along the lines of ‘alright’. He hears that first front door slam and waits a couple of minutes, before excitedly scrambling to his bedroom, cock already twitching at the prospect of release.

He'd had a particularly hard few days (pun intended), and with you deciding you didn't want to venture out, he was left to let his mind wander, only to blueball-ball himself in the process.

He's quick to grab his earphones and settle down comfortably in his bed, pulling his t-shirt off swiftly and practically ripping his jeans off. It doesn't take long before he's got his cock in hand, fisting his throbbing length harshly as girly moans fill his ears and do wonders for his imagination.

Oh, how he tries not to think about you. He knows It's creepy, and he knows that if you found out you'd probably kick him out with nothing but the clothes on his back, but it's so hard. His thumb swipes over the tip, collecting the beads of precum and spreading it over himself.

You're always so perfect, so gorgeous. The sun always seems to land on your face beautifully and illuminate each of your features. He twists his hand expertly and pulls a string of breathy gasps from his chest as he squeezes the tip.

The way you walk through the living room in just a towel, dripping wet; it's almost like you're tempting him.

He's now frantically thrusting into his hand at the image in his mind, low moans and growls escaping through his gritted teeth as his head tilts back and the tendons in his neck bulge at the stretch. That coil is tightening faster that he can control, his brain foggy with thoughts of you, just you you you. The thoughts are so close that he swears he can hear you calling his name, begging him to ruin your cunt and fill you u–.

A cold feeling runs through his body as his head shoots up, his eyes meeting your shocked gaze. Unfortunately for him, that's exactly what he needed as he's sent tumbling over the edge. Hot white ropes spill from his ruddy tip and splatter across his toned chest, huffed moans and curses falling from his lips as he fucks his hand through his orgasm.

It's only when he finally opens his eyes again that the guilt hits him and he scrambles to pull his boxers back up, trying to put his still throbbing cock away.

“Fuck, I'm so sorry, didn't realise you were there! I- I had my headphones in–.” He pulls them out, trying to wipe the evidence of his sins off of his chest, but your soft hand stops him; yes, you had gotten closer.

You watch as his dark eyes trail up your arm to your face, a cocktail of dread, fear, and… something else, all brewing in his gaze; it makes you want him even more.

“I'm not mad, Marc.”

“Creeped out, then?...”

Your thumb runs over his knuckles, feeling how warm and soft his hands are. “No. I mean, I probably should be, but fuck,” your eyes are drawn to his twitching length fighting against the restraints of his tight boxers. Carefully, you crawl onto the bed, straddling his legs far enough away from his body so he can push you off if he's uncomfortable.

You inch closer to him, “ ‘s this ok?” Hands either side of his thighs, your words are soft and breathy, your eyes gazing at him with a look that is sickeningly sweet.

It makes his head wurl, a tight feeling constricting in his chest as the prettiest girl in the world sits virtually in his lap. “Yes–” his voice breaks, making you chuckle softly. “Yeah, it's more than ok.” His heart feels like it's going to beat out of his chest, and you feel it as you place your hands on his chest to shuffle closer to him.

“You looked so handsome like that, Marc.” You compliment with a smile, leaning in to brush your lips across his and feel him take in a sharp breath. He catches your lips and pecks them with adoration, letting a longer kiss linger on them as you press closer to him still. After a few seconds, he moves his hands to rest on your waist, one running up your back to cup the back of your head as he runs his tongue along the seam of your mouth, and you happily oblige.

Months worth of feelings are poured into the kiss, both of you slowly and softly lapping and sucking at each other's lips before you dissolve into panting messes, biting and licking fiercely as if trying to eat each other whole.

“God damn, Spector, you're a great kisser,” you giggle softly, pulling from his lips to appreciate the shiny and red mess you'd made of him. A familiar growl rumbles in his chest, one that you'd learnt was an appreciative noise rather than something to be put off by.

“You can talk, y'know. You're not gonna scare me off.”

Briefly, you see insecurity paint across his face. It's something that you'd never seen before, a small crack in the otherwise solid structure of his frigid expression. On instinct, you brush his curls from his forehead and cup his cheeks, “I trust you, Marc, it's ok. I'm not here to judge you.”

His shoulders seem to relax as he nods a little, “I'm sorry. I don't do this often, if you hadn't noticed.”

You laugh softly and pat his chest, “that's ok, neither do I,” you smile as you sit back on your heels and pull your t-shirt off over your head. You take his hands gently and place them on your breasts, “none of them were you.”

You swear that you see him change in that moment, your words sinking in and his eyes turning hungry. His thumbs run over your hardening nipples as he surges forwards to seize you in another burning kiss that has you hot and breathless this time.

“Jesus, Marc…” a soft whine is pulled from your lips as he glides his lips down and over your neck, focusing on the pulse point below your jaw by nibbling and sucking softly. He's surprisingly quick at unclasping your bra, and he pulls away a little to admire your body.

“Shit, you're gorgeous,” he mumbles, thumbs running underneath your boobs before they work up and run across your nipples, making a gasp get caught in your throat. “You always have been gorgeous. I always look at you and think ‘fuck how doesn't she have a boyfriend yet?’”

“ ‘Cause I've been waiting to fuck my roommate…” You chuckle softly, feeling him chuckle too as his head dips to your chest and he takes your nipple into his mouth, tongue sliding over and swirling around the hard bud in a way that leaves you grinding against his thigh. Suddenly, your jeans feel so restricting, like they're choking you, stopping you from appreciating any pleasure that Marc offers you, which is why you're quick to unbutton them and slip them off… All while your roommate sucks on your tits.

“God. Do you know how many times I've touched myself hoping you’d catch me?” Your words are breathless as your body rolls against his mouth and a pleased noise from the man reverberates over your nipple. “Left my door open just a crack in hopes my moans would grab your attention, and you'd come and fuck me right…”

He audibly groans at that, pulling away to look at you again while his hands travel to your waistband.

”You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear that.”

He hungrily pulls your underwear down your thighs and off with his own following soon after, leaving you both naked and messily grinding against each other as you're caught up in yet another kiss.

You glance down eventually, being treated with the glorious sight of his thick cock throbbing and spilling pre-cum… Or maybe it's cum from his previous orgasm, either way it makes you clench your toes.

“It's bigger when I'm this close,” a nervous chuckle leaves your lips.

“I know, I know. That's also why I don't fuck much.” He laughs breathily and grips his length at the base, running it between your sopping folds and circling your clit perfectly. You grind down on his tip with a moan and pant.

“We don't have too, if you don't want to.” He reminds softly, pressing a few more kisses on your jaw, but you're quick to shake your head and grip his shoulders, “I need you inside me, Marc. Needed it since the day i fucking met you.”

You certainly don't have to tell him twice.

He's sinking inside you before you can even process his tip probing your hole. It's such a delicious stretch, one that spreads throughout your body and along your nerves. You sink down on him further, wanting to sheath him inside you whole.

You'd like to think that Marc knows you're on birth control, given the endless packets and the way you often rant to him about the imperfections of the drug. You're hoping he knows this, because you're hoping he cums inside you.

“Fucking hell Marc, shit…” You pant softly and look down between your bodies, your hands holding onto his shoulders As he grips your waist and guides you; down down down till you're sat in his lap.

You feel so full like that, and honestly you could probably just roll your hips and cum right there, but it's not long before your roommate is lifting you off of himself just to impale you once again. A rush of pleasure runs through your veins and makes your cunt clench around the girth, both of you groaning as you capture his lips again.

“Dammit… you're lucky you're hot, or I would've kicked you out–ah- for being a creep–”

“You were the one watching me stroke my fucking cock. You liked it deep down.” The man growls on your lips, making a whimper rise in your throat as you nod a little, dumbly. His breath is hot on your lips, each of your moans being swallowed by laboured gasps from the other as his hips rock up.

Although the pace isn't fast, you already feel wrecked. The stretch is so fucking good, and the way he hits your sweet spot everytime has you weak at the knees for this man, your groans turning into gasps and drawn out moans.

“M-arc, honey, I'm not gonna last much longer…” You whine pathetically, but this only makes him move faster, now bringing you down on his cock as he thrusts up harshly and sends waves of pleasure through you as he does so. “That's it, baby. Wanna feel you cum All over my cock; cum all over your roommate's cock… shit, you're so filthy, sweetheart.”

His words have your nails digging into his shoulders, your thighs burning as they finally give up and you let Marc use you, use your cunt for his own damn pleasure. The whole idea has you arching your back, and finally, with your shaky fingers circling your clit, you go crashing over that edge. Your thighs instantly clench together as whorish moans are pulled from your lungs and fill the room, ecstasy washing over you in waves and taking you to a place that you didn't even know existed, not until Marc.

Your clenching cunt is what finishes Marc off, that and the beautiful sounds you make as you come. Your walls milk him dry, taking every drop from him and more as he fills your cunt with that delicious warmth.

You sink back down on him finally and practically collapse into his chest, your arms wrapping around His torso tightly as you try and catch your breath.

The warmth that spreads through Marc's heart in that moment is almost unbearable. It's a feeling he's wanted for a long time, one that he doesn't even know how long will last, but he's sure as hell is not gonna waste it worrying.

You feel his large arms wrap around you tightly, a kiss placed on your shoulder, and then his warm breath sending goosebumps over the back of your neck as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Never took you as a cuddler, Marc Spector.” You mumble softly into his chest, listening to the rhythmic thump of his heart as it slows to a comforting pace.

“I'm full of surprises, sweetheart.”

...........................................................................

Tags 🖤: @boredzillenial @cowboymarcs @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar @fanofstuffidk @minigirl87 @marisferasiop @red-hydra @summonthesoups @steven-grants-world @queerponcho @ominoose @mynamesstevenwithav @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @cupidysm @clemdango04 @flowercrownonapegion @spxctorsslxt

[darthannie]

potential side effects

pairing: Jonathan Crane x f!reader summary: After giving you an experimental medication, Dr. Crane helps you get over your fear of intimacy.  word count: 2,143 warnings: 18+, minors DNI for the love of god, DARK, rough at points, I’m gonna go ahead and say NONCON, au where Dr. Crane has a private practice, abuse of power, reader is under the influence (kinda like the fear toxin), reader is sleepy, Crane doesn't take no for an answer, dacryphilia, inexperienced!reader, floor sex, spit, fighting back, a smidge of aftercare at the end. a/n: Please do not read if you’re not into what's in the warnings. I had fun experimenting with this one. I tried to be a little more thorough in the warnings. Better safe than sorry. I’m still toying around with Jonathan’s voice. Let me know if you want more of this kind of thing, or something different. I’d love to interact with you guys more!

Dr. Jonathan Crane had been treating you for the better part of a year and was in the midst of creating a new medication regimen for you. Your previous treatment plan was not working as intended, so it was back to the drawing board.

He selected you as the first person to receive an experimental medication. It was meant to be inhaled and doses were to be given during the time of the appointment. You didn’t necessarily know what to expect. He’d briefly mentioned that there may be potential side effects but didn’t go into much detail. 

You were nervous the first time you’d gone in to receive a dose. As you approached the door to his office you felt a lump begin to form in your throat. You knocked and after a moment he opened the door. Jonathan always wore the same thing most of the time. Today he donned a black blazer and slacks with a white button-up. His red tie was placed right at the center of his collar. His dark hair framed his face perfectly. He looks good today, you thought, better than usual. 

You exchanged your normal pleasantries and sat across from him on a couch. His office was spacious and dark. All the furniture was made of wood. In the corner, there was a big bookcase that consisted of books on fear, pharmacology, and different editions of the DSM. The DSM-4 was missing from the shelf, presumably on his desk. 

The room brought you a lot of comfort. It was the only place you ever got to see him. It felt like Dr. Crane was the only person in all of Gotham that understood you. It was his job after all. 

Soon the time came for him to administer the medication. 

“I’m going to spray in front of your face and you’re going to breathe in. It doesn’t take much to be effective.”, he said. 

You nodded and he sprayed. 

Your nerves subsided almost immediately and your mind became quiet.

“Any difference?”, he asked. 

“My mind is silent. All my racing thoughts have stopped.” 

“Good. That means it’s working. Some of the other side effects may begin to set in now.” 

He was right. Like clockwork, you started to get drowsy. It was like someone had given you a little too much Benadryl. It was hard to keep your eyes open. 

“Dr. Crane? Is this normal?” You couldn’t help but drag the ’s’. 

“It’s nothing to worry about. It’s just the medication working. How do you feel?” He seemed a tad on edge as he awaited your answer. 

“I feel all warm inside.” 

He then leaned back against his desk. “Any drowsiness?”

“Lots of it.” You chuckled slightly.

“That is normal.” He said, answering your question. “The medication was likely to make you feel tired.”

“Does it go away?”

“As your body builds up a tolerance, the effects will lessen. Now, I wanted to talk about the recent screenings you filled out. I would like you to check over them and rate their accuracy on a scale from one to five, five being very accurate.” 

He handed you a piece of paper and you looked it over. “Four.”

“Why not five?” His eyebrows furrowed. 

“Number six. ’S worse.” Question number six pertained to your interest in sex. More specifically how terrified you were of having it. 

It was a topic you were working on with Dr. Crane since it impacted your life so much. You were hesitant to mention it at first, but he assured you it was better to talk about it instead of holding it in. So, you spilled every detail. This included your inability to get yourself off and failed hook-up attempts.

You’d try very hard but when it came time for you to do the deed you shut down and found a way out of the situation. You hadn’t been getting out there much because, frankly, the thought of being intimate with someone was frightening. You didn’t know how you’d ever get over it. 

“Have you sought out any partners to help with your fears?”, he asked.

You took a moment to process what he said. “No, I haven’t. I can’t. It’s too-“

“Frightening, yes I remember you using that word.” He removed his glasses before continuing. “I think there’s a way I can help you with that. Personally.”

You yawned. “What do you mean by that doctor?” 

“I can make you feel better.” He looked down at you and brushed your cheek with the back of his hand. 

“How do you mean?” You could hear the apprehension in your voice. He ignored your question and reached down to the hem of your top, lifting it slightly. 

You pulled back a little too quickly and you got a bit dizzy. “I don’t know about that Dr. Crane. I can’t- I’m not well.”

He ignored you. “I think it’ll be easier if I just take you here on the floor.” 

He dragged you off the couch and onto the ground, sitting up. The hardwood was cold to the touch but started to warm under your body. He kneeled next to you. You tried to fight him as he reached for your sweater. He grabbed your wrists to stop you from thrashing around. 

“I would hate to have to tie you up, sweetheart.” You knew he would follow through so you did what he wanted. You stopped fighting back.

He neatly folded and put aside each article of clothing he took off your body. Eventually, you were completely bare in front of him. You were almost too gone to grasp what was going on. Almost. The fear began to creep in and he could tell. Maybe the medication was not working the way he intended it to. Maybe he lied about what it was intended to do. 

You slurred, “Dr. Crane, please don’t- Please don’t do this.” 

He leaned over you and you tried to push him away. He only offered a small smile and reached his hand down between your legs. You whimpered as his fingers moved lightly over your clit. You mewled at the new sensation. You gave in to the feeling and your eyes started to close. When they wouldn’t open again Jonathan lightly slapped your cheek. 

“No, no, no don’t fall asleep. I need you to stay awake for me.”, he said. 

You fought the exhaustion and watched as he used his fingers to tease you. 

He noticed you getting wetter and moved his fingers down to your entrance. He slowly stretched you with two fingers, watching your face as your mouth fell open. 

A tight-lipped smile appeared on his face. He started slow and then moved his fingers in and out very quickly, hitting a new spot until he found the one that made your legs shake. You lied back and let him work on you. All you felt was bliss. No one had ever touched you like that. 

He took his hand away and you whined. This was a first and you were glad you made it this far. This was a win. 

You thought it was over, but then you noticed him unbuttoning his pants. 

Your breath quickened and you put your hand out. “Wait! Please, no! I think I’ve had enough for today.” 

“We’re not done with your treatment yet, princess. Please hold still. It will be easier for the both of us.” 

Your body was made of putty. The side effects had gotten worse. He brought your legs into position before grabbing himself in his hand. He stroked his cock a couple of times before entering you. 

He gave you no time to adjust. His pace was slow but he fucked hard. You gasped at the feeling of him inside you. You’ve never been fucked like this before. But, that didn’t matter to him. All he wanted was to feel you around him. Make you his. 

The sounds in the room sent you reeling. You didn’t know you would moan so much. The sound of his skin hitting yours filled the room along with his heavy breaths and moans. He grabbed your hips as he thrust hard and fast. You were having a hard time coping with all the feelings you were having at once. The fear, exhaustion, and pleasure were beginning to mix. You wanted to scream. Instead, you cried. 

Jonathan moaned at the sight. He loved watching you cry. He’d seen it happen during sessions and couldn’t help but wonder what it would look like if you moaned while you cried. Now he knew. You were unable to keep quiet. Silent cries became sobs which became whimpers. 

He caressed your tear-stained face, “Shhhhhh, hush now it’s alright. You’re doing so well.”

You tried to talk through your tears. “Please Jonathan- Dr. Crane, Make it stop!”

This time he went deeper. You yelped as you felt him hit a new part of you. “I’m not stopping until you tell me it feels good. Tell me, does it feel good?”

“Yes,” you moaned, “it feels good.” 

“Yeah? Are you still frightened? Are you scared of me?”

“Yes.”, you admitted. It was hard for you to get out. How could you ever fear him? All he had ever done was help you. This was just another one of his unorthodox methods. 

He bent forward and put his arms next to your ears, locking his fingers on the top of your head to hold you in place. Your body was limp as he continued fucking you into the floor. Your eyes closed; you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 

He shook your head slightly. “No, eyes on me. Look at me.” 

You looked at him wide-eyed. 

“Open your mouth.” You obeyed and he spit in your mouth. In all honesty, you savored the taste. It was another way of him claiming you. 

“Swallow.” When you did he hummed contently. “Good girl.” 

You felt something weird tightening in your core. “Dr. Crane. I feel like I’m gonna-“. 

A long moan came out before you could finish your sentence. He fucked you as you rode your high and soon after his thrusts started to falter. He sat up and grabbed your hip to use as leverage. You mustered up as much energy as you could to move away from him, using your legs to drag yourself across the floor. He was much stronger than you at this point and he pulled you back. 

“No, come here. You’re gonna stay still while I finish. Got it?”

The tears kept flowing, but you obeyed. You lied back as he came inside of you. He stayed inside of you for a minute, savoring the moment. You were tired and blissed out. He pulled out of you without a word. He watched as his cum dropped out of you. 

“What a sight.”, he said matter a factly. He helped you sit up and wiped tears from your face with his thumb. He brought you close to him and kissed your forehead. 

He got up and put himself back together again. He fixed his clothing, tucking in his pristine white shirt and fastening his pants. He fixed his tie and looked past you into a mirror. 

Once satisfied, he grabbed a towel from his desk and cleaned you up. He helped you up to your feet and began dressing you. His demeanor was softer now. He took his time as he got you dressed. Once he was finished he helped you sit on the couch. You curled up into his side, seeking comfort from the man who had just used you. 

You’d never felt more confused. You knew this shouldn’t have happened. Every boundary had been crossed. But, the special attention from him felt better than anything. You fell asleep on his shoulder. He let you sleep on him for a while before he got up to write notes on what had just occurred. He found his glasses, put them on, and returned to his desk to begin writing. He included your reaction to the “medication” and how receptive you were to the treatment.

You woke up about an hour later, confused. You looked around and recognized his office. The memories of earlier events came rushing back. You felt your cheeks get hot.

Jonathan looked up from the paper he was holding up. “Rise and shine.”

He grabbed a sheet of paper from your file. He attached it to a clipboard and grabbed a pen. He handed you the materials and you looked down. It was another questionnaire. 

“Fill this out as accurately as possible.”

“What is it for?” You cleared your throat. He sat back down at his desk and picked up the paper he was previously inspecting. He looked at your file before looking back at you. 

“Our next session.”, he replied. 

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Irresistible {4} || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: It’s your first race weekend and having to share Charles had never been so hard. It’s a good thing another driver tries to keep you company. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, cheating, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 3.5 F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four

“Who are you and what have you done with my Charles?”

“I’m still your Charles, ma biche,” he chuckled as he closed the door behind him and pulled his facemask off. A tired smile played at his lips as the first day of practices came to an end. 

You rolled your eyes and closed the distance between you, toying with the red sleeves of his race suit knotted at his waist. “That’s not who was out there,” you argued softly, teasing a barely-there kiss along his jawline. “They called you Il Predestinato.” You circled around him and kissed his shoulder, feeling the heat radiating off of his body and onto your lips before you rose in your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Are you my predestined too?”

He turned and pressed his body along yours, caging you against the door he had entered. A smirk grew on those tempting lips and your stomach tightened at the look in his eyes. “I’m everything you need me to be.”

A knock pounded into your back and you closed your eyes as the stolen moment was taken away once more. Since arriving in Austria things had changed, subtle shifts that left you uncertain of what you were to him. You were constantly trying to reconcile the Charles out there and the Charles in here. Moving aside, you watched silently as he pulled his face mask back into place, hiding his pout in an instant,

“I’ll see you tonight,” he promised before turning the handle and slipping out of the room. He had a key to your suite and had used it in the dead of the night, sneaking across the hall from the suite he shared with Charlotte. You had never felt so alone.

You waited for Charlotte’s voice to fade away before leaving Charles’ private room and following the signs to the exit and out into the open air. The mask on your face was suffocating but it did give you some anonymity as you walked around the paddock in search of the car park. You should have asked for a map when you arrived because now you were forced to ask for directions. 

“Hey,” you greeted a stranger that you thought was one of the drivers Charles had mentioned. He was in the same kind of race suit that Charles wore, but his was dark blue and he didn’t look too pleased to have been interrupted.

“Alright,” he sighed as he draped an arm over your shoulder, “take the photo. I’m already late.”

“Photo?” You shrugged his arm off and stepped away. “I don’t even know who you are.”

The man’s blue eyes narrowed in doubt before he scoffed. “Sure. Okay. Then how can I help you?”

You narrowed your eyes back and mirrored his stance with your hands on your hips. “Don’t bother. I don’t want your help now.”

You turned and picked a random direction to search and marched off before quick steps followed. A hand grabbed your arm and you turned to face the dirty blond man who now looked apologetic. 

“It’s been a long day,” he said in what you assumed was the closest the man came to saying sorry. “I’m Max.”

You looked at Max’s hand and left it hovering between you as you crossed your arms. “You’re the one that Charles has been racing since you were kids?”

He dropped his hand and shrugged. “There’s a few of us, but yeah.”

“I’m Y/N.”

Recognition lit his icy eyes and his eyebrows lifted as he scanned you once over. “Charles’ step sister, right?”

You hated that term, the constant reminder of why you could never have what you wanted most. “Technically our parents aren’t married yet.”

Max shrugged, obviously not caring about the technicalities like you did. “So if you didn’t want a photo, or an autograph, what did you need help with?”

You looked down at your feet sheepishly and kicked at the loose stones. “Finding a way out of this maze.”

“Ah,” he chuckled. “It feels like that sometimes, but you’ll get used to it - most of the paddocks have the same layout. I’m leaving now too so you can walk with me.”

The car park was far emptier than when you arrived and you easily found the pristine white Ferrari that had been ready for you outside the hotel. Charles and Charlotte were driving an identical one, the two seater sports car limiting the ability to carpool. 

“You should probably have my number,” Max said as you reached the car and he opened the driver's door for you. “In case you get lost again.”

You bit your bottom lip as you thought about the consequences of exchanging numbers. Maybe this man didn’t get your heart racing with a single glance, but his eyes smiled when he did and he was quite funny as you found out along the walk. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you admitted as your phone vibrated and you saw a message from Charles.

Seeming to sense it, Max chuckled and stepped back. “Because of your big brother?”

Your nose wrinkled in distaste and your lip curled with it. “Charles is not my brother.”

“Of course,” he said with a dip of his head. “You are not related at all.”

“Exactly.” Your words were too strong and you realised he had noticed it, so you did what you thought you needed to do and distracted him. “I guess it won’t hurt having your number if I get lost.”

Max’s eyes wrinkled with the smile beneath the mask and slipped his phone out of his pocket, trading it with yours to enter your numbers in. “It’s a matter of safety now, especially since Charles left you here alone.”

Ouch, that hurt your heart but he wasn’t lying. The Charles that the public saw was so vastly different from the man you had fallen for in the privacy of home. Everything was structured and curated for show, his eyes barely glancing your way when there were cameras in the room. He was on display, and so was Charlotte - they just lapped the attention. 

Maybe they were perfect for each other.

“Do you want to go to dinner?” Max asked, leaning in closer as his voice dropped. “Or are you planning to eat with Charles and Charlotte?”

This man knew your weakness no matter how coy he acted but the only question you had was ‘why’. “Is this some ploy to undermine your biggest rival?”

“My biggest rival is Lewis,” he corrected before he stepped back to check his phone, seeing that time passed too quickly when he was with you. “You are beautiful and I have enjoyed your company. Is that reason enough?”

You could feel your phone vibrating again but ignored it as you gave him your hotel name. “Pick me up at 8.”

You slipped into the leather seat before you could change your mind and Max closed the door, a smile warming his voice. “I’ll see you then.”

It wasn’t a date, at least that’s what you told yourself. There was laughter and an openness between you and Max, but he wasn’t Charles and he would never be Charles. He couldn’t make you tremble with a delicate kiss, or make your heart skip a beat when your eyes connected. 

With lockdown and no reservation, dinner was a bust - even for a famous F1 driver. But the night didn’t end with one set back. Instead you had gone to a supermarket and Max grabbed cheese and crackers, fruit pastes and little cakes, and strawberries with chocolate. You had found yourself back at the Red Bull Ring, high up in the empty stands with a paper bag full of the snacks balanced on your lap. 

“What was it like before covid?” you asked as you looked out over the track. Workers still toiled about making sure everything was ready for tomorrow but most people had left a while ago.

“Busier.” 

You snorted a laugh. “Wow, never would have guessed that.”

Max laughed and leaned back in his seat, popping a chocolate strawberry in his mouth to chew while he contemplated. “It was livelier, even the teams have scaled back who travels with us. There’s hardly anyone in the factories. It’s like watching one of those zombie apocalypse movies.”

He actually sounded happy and you turned to see a small smile on his lips. “You’re weird,” you said with a laugh. “Most people wouldn’t be happy in a zombie apocalypse.”

He rolled his icy blue eyes and nudged you with his shoulder. “You’re weird.”

“And you have the comeback of a five year old.”

“Hey, I worked hard to come up with that,” he joked, making you laugh even more, the sound drifting out over the evening air. “I like that it’s quieter, there’s less media duties, less theatrics. We get here, we race, then we leave.”

“Ah, you’re antisocial!”

“I like socialising,” he said with a pointed look between you. “I just don’t give a shit about the ‘famous’ part we are meant to play. I’m a racer not an actor. There’s some that enjoy the spotlight though.”

You felt the dig at Charles but you swallowed down a response with a cracker slathered in sweet quince paste. After seeing him change the second he stepped out of the private plane with Charlotte on his arm there was no way to defend him.

“I guess you’re right,” you admitted. “So if you’re not antisocial, what do you like doing other than racing?”

The sun set as conversation flowed but eventually you had to concede that it was time to leave the grandstand. This time when he walked you to the carpark you smiled as he opened the passenger door to his Aston Martin. 

“Are you going to tell Charles about our date?”

“Is that what this was?” Your smile negated the baiting words and his lips curled up in a smirk and he reached across the gearbox to hold your hand. 

“I think it was something I want to do again.”

“No,” you murmured as you looked out at the passing scenery, but your hand stayed in his. “I wasn’t planning on telling him.”

“You should know, nothing stays secret in F1 for long. With the cameras and the fans…the truth always comes out.”

The inside of your cheek hurt as you chewed on it nervously. You couldn’t tell if he was talking about him and the not-a-date date or you and Charles. “Thanks, Max. I’ll keep that in mind.”

You hadn’t been able to sleep after Max had dropped you off at the hotel, and it seemed Charles hadn’t either. His green eyes were as wild as his untamed hair and he paced the living room of your suite. When the keycard beeped for his entry at 2am he had found you sitting on the couch, watching infomercials fill the room with white noise as you awaited his arrival. 

A photo had already been posted from the track. 

It was innocent enough. Max had noticed your skin prickle with goosebumps as the sun descended and draped his jacket over your shoulders so the date could keep going. It looked more intimate than it was. 

“I left you alone for two minutes and you’re out on a date with Max Verstappen!”

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t a date but the instant attack had a fire scorching in your belly and all the resentment that had been building since Charlotte interrupted your paradise exploded. 

“Exactly! You left me alone,” you shouted back, rising to your feet and stalking your way across the floor to him. Your forefinger screamed in protest as you poked his hard chest. “You left me. For her.”

Instant regret filled his eyes and his hands reached for you. “That’s not fair.”

“None of this is fair, Charles,” you sighed as you opened the door, sending him a clear message as he saw his room number on the other side of the hall. “But it is what it is.”

“You want me to leave?”

“No, but I think it is best if you do.”

Charles grabbed the door and tugged it from your grasp, slamming it closed without a care for who would wake along the hotel corridor. “I’m not going until you want me to go,” he promised as he cupped your face and crashed his lips against yours. “I’m not going until you tell me you don’t love me.”

You knew your tongue was too heavy to ever voice those words and your lips too swollen from his kiss. He knew it, and he knew it well as he led you to the bedroom. “Tell me to go,” he dared as he gripped your hips and pulled you flush against his body. “Tell me.”

“I can’t!” you growled, biting his bottom lip enough to draw a ragged gasp from him. You pushed him back as you reached the bed and he let himself fall upon the luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets. His eyes darkened and he ran a thumb over his tender lip while he watched you climb his body. “I want to, but I can’t. You’re mine, Charles. Il mio Predestinato.”

There was nothing gentle in the union of your bodies, it was merely a release of the tension and a distraction from what was to come when he returned to his room. You would never tell him how cold it was when he left your bed, how you clung to the pillow that held the scent of his shampoo, or how you cried until the sun broke the horizon. It was your burden to bear, and keeping it to yourself was proof of how much you loved him. You were saving him from the guilt he would feel with your pain.

The reflection in the mirror was unrecognisable and you were happy when the steam of the shower erased the image in a cloud of condensation. Charles had messaged to say he was heading to the track but you hadn’t been able to reply because you weren’t sure if you were going to follow or not.

A frown formed when a knock sounded at your door and you checked your phone to see if he had messaged again. Maybe he knew your reservations and had come to pick you up. Hope filled you but it was quickly dashed when you opened the door and it wasn’t Charles waiting for you.

“Ouch,” Max said with a shake of his head. “Not who you were expecting?”

You tried to remove the disappointment that had fallen over your face and gave him an apologetic smile. “Not exactly. What are you doing here?”

“I thought I might save you from getting lost. Did you want a ride to the track?”

You looked down at the robe you were still wearing after the long shower in which you had contemplated all your life choices that led you to standing under the stream to hide your tears. “I’m not sure I want to go.”

Max looked down the hall before stepping inside and closing the door. “Because of Charles?”

“Not everything in my life revolves around Charles,” you huffed with a roll of your eyes.

“So what’s wrong then?” He chuckled after a moment of silence and nodded to himself. “You should come with me.”

“Why?”

Max shrugged innocently. “Well, I like spending time with you and you are obviously lonely too.”

Something, not a flutter or a spark, but something piqued your interest and your eyes lifted from the carpet. “You’re lonely?”

“I told you I’m not antisocial,” he laughed. “I miss having people around that don't want to talk about my job.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Why would anyone want to talk about your work? It’s the most boring sport I have ever seen.”

“See,” he smirked. “You’re the perfect fit.”

You felt a little lighter as you made the decision to join him. “Just for today,” you said with a pointed finger. “And if it’s boring then I’m leaving.”

Self assured cockiness that seemed a fundamental characteristic of all drivers settled on his features. “Deal. Now go get dressed, schat.”

Your nose wrinkled. “What did you call me?”

“Nothing bad.” His smile grew at your doubtful look and he nodded his head to the bedroom. “We should get going.”

You quickly changed but each layer of cloth made your stomach turn and you tried to take a calming breath before stepping out of the room. Charles had been more angry at the fact it was Max you had been photographed with than anything, so you knew he wasn’t going to be happy when you arrived with him. For a moment you were torn between hoping he didn’t find out and hoping he did.

Guilt smacked the smile off your face.

“I’m actually not feeling very well,” you muttered as you joined him, an uncomfortable weight sitting on your chest. “I don’t think I can go with you today.”

Max looked disappointed but nodded in acceptance and reached for the door. “You do look tired, schat. You should get some sleep.”

The weight lifted with the click of the door closing and you soon found yourself back beneath the blankets that still smelt of Charles.

You woke to soft kisses on your shoulder and the tickle of stubble in your neck.

“Ma biche,” he whispered across your cheek.

“What time is it?” You wondered if you had slept all day but given how bright it was outside, Charles couldn't have finished his work for the evening.

“1.30,” he answered as he snaked an arm over your waist and curled his body behind yours. “Qualifying is in two hours.”

He relinquished his tight embrace to let you roll over and face him, seeing his eyes close with a tired sigh. “What are you doing here? Where’s Charlotte?”

“Shh, I don’t want to think about her right now,” he hushed softly and he stroked your cheek with his fingertips. “I wish we could just go home. I miss the days we spent like this.”

You sighed longingly and leaned into his touch. “It feels like a lifetime ago.”

He smiled sadly and kissed you sweetly as he drew your leg over his hip. “Please come with me. I need you by my side, Bambi, cheering for me.”

Your fingers danced down his sponsored shirt, tracing the brands that aided his team before you reached his belt. His tongue peeked out between his lips and wet them as you unclasped the buckle and dared him. “Make me.”

Charles acted as if he didn’t have anywhere important to be, like qualifying. He took his time as if he hadn’t felt your body beneath him in years. You felt his kiss on every inch of your skin and your head spun after falling drunk on the high he gave you.

“Please come with me,” he begged as the weight of his spent body collapsed upon you, better than any comfort blanket could.

“I suppose you made a decent effort to persuade me,” you teased as you brushed his damp hair back from his forehead.

“Decent,” he echoed with a laugh, both of you moaning at the sensation it had with him still inside you. The feeling subsided as he withdrew and saw the time, a seriousness falling upon him. “We should shower and go, ma biche.”

“Tell me it’s going to get easier,” you whispered before he could pull away completely.

“It’s going to get easier,” he swore. “I will make it easier for you, my love.”

And he did.

After the race, Charlotte ‘chose’ to return to Monaco for the rest of her summer break and Charles brought his suitcase across the hall to your room. He kept his promise and you kept yours, cheering for him from inside the Ferrari garage.

“You found your way back,” Max said in passing at the following race, one of the rare times he found you without Charles.

“Yup, no more getting lost,” you chuckled, though you were sure you were talking about different things. “You were right, all paddocks are the same.”

“Good,” he said with a forced smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “But if you do get lost, or find yourself alone…you have my number, schat.”

You nodded with a sense of shyness and smiled at your feet. “I found out what that means.”

“Do you want me to stop calling you that?”

“I don’t know.”

His smile finally reached his eyes and you realised you should have said yes, but you were being selfish. “Well, when you do know…call me.”

[reallyromealone]

Ohshc host club members with a male reader who is bsd Chuuya Nakahara's younger brother

Male reader has the same abilities as Chuuya

The host club members somehow got into trouble so male reader has no choice but to use his abilities

Title: risky business

Part : One

Fandom: OHSHC x Bungou stray dogs

Characters: host club, chuuya

Fic type: two shot

Pairings:

Warnings: male reader, reader insert

Notes: using that ohshc manga plot wooo

Summary: I don't know how to write the nabbing rn so enjoy a cliff hanger

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Name) Always kept to himself during classes, he was thankful his brother worked so hard to give him such a good life but (name) always struggled to make friends especially because of his over protective brother.

Thankfully his brother had the forethought to give (name) a fake last name as to not be recognized.

"Chuu, I'm heading to school now" (name) said to his brother who was practically falling asleep on his king sized bed "I made you some breakfast for when you wake up" always a good little brother, chuuya noted to himself "have a good day, get good grades" he grumbled and (name) Pat his head before leaving, the private car waiting for him.

(Name) Typically opted for his more casual uniform, a sweater vest instead of the blazer and music playing from his mp3 player.

(Name) Was a ghost in the school, keeping to the shadows and focusing on his school work and narrowly avoiding his classmates to get to his seat.

Pulling out his notebook and other supplies while everyone else talked and generally caught up from the weekend.

"--and we will be working in pairs this project" (name) snapped back into reality at his teachers words and saw them tape a paper to the door "check at the end of class, these papers will show what is expected of the project" (name) awkwardly thanked his classmate who passed him the papers and passed the pile to the person behind him.

"Awww we aren't partners!" A girl groaned annoyed to her friend while (name) looked at the paper curiously, looking down till he saw his name and...

Haruhi Fujioka.

Well haruhi was nice enough from what he saw of his classmate, glancing at the brown haired teen who was chatting with the twins, the two brothers always made (name) uncomfortable with their incest act; The whole host club overwhelmed (name) honestly.

"Uh, hey so we're partners..." (Name) Mumbled awkwardly while the twins looked him up and down as if inspecting the quiet teen "right! Heres my number, we can meet up after club stuff..." She said pulling out her phone and (name) nodded, the twins circling them curiously "you never talk to anyone" kaoru said simply and Hikaru nodded "why don't you have friends?"

(Name) Was a bit stunned at their blatant audacity and was ready to fire something off when haruhi gave them a look "can you guys not be rude at any given opportunity?" She said incredulously to the twins shock, looking away annoyed from her and Hikaru glared at (name) but said nothing else.

The four went about their days, (name) in the soccer club and the other three at the host club.

(Name) Never really thought about the host club, his teammates always chatting about the club getting all the girls "(name) aren't you doing a project with one of the members?" His captain asked (name) who nodded "yeah, haruhi" he said simply and a member hung himself over the other "try and figure out how they get all the girls! Please (name)!" He begged and the teen rolled his eyes with a soft laugh "yeah, I'll make it mission number one" he said simply and the team made small talk, always trying to include (name). They didn't know his family secret but they knew he was shy and wanted him to know that they were friends with him.

"And don't forget to bring back the training camp forms!" The captain said seriously and everyone nodded before leaving, (name) going to the host club with a little confusion; he's never had to go to it so he's a bit lost ok!

"Music room number three... Number three..." He mumbled while looking at the doors signs and made a small 'aha!' when he saw the sign before taking a deep breath and knocking twice before opening the door. Rose petals assaulted his face and a resounding 'welcome!' before Hikaru spoke flatly "oh it's you" (name) ignored the elder twins snark and turned his attention to haruhi "club activities are still going I see, want me to meet you in the library?"

"And do what? Huh? What are you gonna do with our haruhi?!" Tamaki tried to get all dad mode but (name) just sighed "were partners for a--"'--PARTNERS?!" The blond looked like he was ready to drop either from horror or rage, maybe both "yes... In a project" (name) felt a headache form and wanted to leave and haruhi seemed tired "actually club activities just finished, let me grab my stuff and we can go"

But it's never that easy, she should have known.

She knew that they would never make it easy.

The project required them to go out and gather data and of course the host club would follow.

"Do they always do that or am I just special?" (Name) Asked her curiously before staring at her with a little more focus "ooooohhhh, wait no I get it now" he realized and haruhi looked panicked "trans?"

"No, i-uh I have to pay off a debt" she explained and he nodded "well I won't say anything don't worry... Anyways"

What none of them realized though was that they were being followed.

"That the kid?"

"He has some rich friends, could probably get a pretty penny off then as well..."

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

With No One Around

When you and Aemond need to relax, you have a secret spot where you can go and be all alone.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader (2nd person)

Warnings: kissing, deep throating, Aemond has a spite-fueled breeding kink

This work is a part of my 12 Days of Smuff event! Read the rest here.

My Masterlist

With No One Around

Prompt: In Nature & Deep Throating

Vhagar sensed your intentions the moment you and Aemond climbed down from her saddle, giving you an annoyed, rumbling growl before she lumbered as far away as she could while still being close enough to guard you. You mumbled teasing words at her, but you couldn’t help but love the curmudgeonly old dragon. And be very thankful that she only understood High Valyrian.

Aemond huffed, grabbing your hand and practically dragging you through the trees. You cursed his long legs and scrambled to keep up with him so he wouldn’t pull your arm clean off. “In quite a hurry, are you?”

He only gave a frustrated hum. It was answer enough.

That day had been hard. On both of you.

It was the first day of the Festival of the Mother, and as it always did on holidays, everything went wrong.

The king was too ill to attend. Aegon was hung over. Helaena was in one of her distant moods, which did nothing to help calm the hysterical twins. It was supposed to be their first public event since the announcement of their birth, a way to show the world that their line was strong, secure, and, most importantly, true. Yet the future heir spent the morning biting everyone and everything he could find while his sister wailed ceaselessly.

In the end, Helaena and the twins stayed in their rooms, leaving only Queen Alicent, Aegon, Aemond, and you to attend. Not exactly the best showing for a day dedicated to the mother.

Especially not when you and Aemond had been wed nearly two years with no children to show for it – though not for lack of valiant effort – and all the nobility seemed able to talk about was the child Rhaenyra would give birth to in mere weeks.

That was what set Aemond on edge. He would not be able to dismiss this child as a threat to his family. For unlike its elder half-brothers, it would not be a bastard. It would be a true continuation of Rhaenyra’s line – a full-blooded Valyrian. And a boon of legitimacy to her bid for the throne.

You were not sure exactly why, but Aemond believed that if Rhaenyra took the throne, she would immediately move to slaughter her half-siblings and their families. The one time you asked him why, he refused to explain. You would have pushed further, but his lip had twitched toward his scar, and you knew what that meant – it was one of the first things you’d learned about him.

Whatever the cause, he had pulled you away after the ceremony in such a hurry that he didn’t even call for a wheelhouse to take you to Vhagar. He’d just lifted you atop the first saddled horse he found, swinging up behind you and sending the beast racing through the city.

Which is how you ended up here – being pulled along by Aemond as he brought you to his special place. A small outcropping on Blackwater Bay, just outside the Kingswood. It had ample enough space for Vhagar to rest and was completely private.

It was where Aemond would come whenever he got overwhelmed, whether by the pain from his eye, exhaustion after being forced to appear in public and be sociable, or just the stress and frustration of his everyday life. He used it for the same reasons still, but he now had a better way to calm himself rather than mope by the cliff’s edge.

Now, he had you.

And you were never going to complain about his using you for stress relief.

Aemond brought you just outside the tree line, then whirled on you, gripping you tightly as he pulled you into a searing kiss. “I swear by all the gods,” he moaned as you opened to him, “we will not return home until there is a babe in your belly.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before again diving into you and moving one hand down to cup your rear. You moaned as he pulled you against him, rolling his hips to show you just how eager he was.

“We may be here a while then,” you managed to eke out between kisses. You weren’t sure why he was delaying; he was more than hard enough, and you hoped your own movements against him would show him you were ready as well. “What will we eat?”

He growled. This was not the conversation he wanted to have. He’d always preferred no conversation when you were intimate, but you couldn’t help yourself. “Vhagar will cook us some venison.”

You laughed at the answer but were quickly cut off when he moved his hands to your shoulders to push you down on the soft grass. Aemond was in quite the mood, and you weren’t sure you liked it.

So, you decided to tease him. After all, he deserved it.

You let him push you to your knees but resisted his attempts to push you down further. He tried, but you were stronger than you appeared, especially when you were this annoyed with him.

“What are you doing – ” you cut him off this time, reaching up to grab his thighs and squeeze.

With a saccharine smile, you brought your hands to the ties of his trousers and began to unlace them, one by one. “I’m just helping you relax. If you put a baby in me now, I fear it will be born angry.”

Aemond growled softly, in warning to not delay too long, and begrudging permission.

You made quick work of his trousers, pulling them down only enough to retrieve his hardened cock, pumping it a few times to spread the moisture that had gathered at his tip before taking him into your mouth. Slowly, at first, because he wouldn’t relax if he got what he wanted immediately, but enough that he would not want to stop you to stick himself somewhere else.

You continued like this for a few moments, until Aemond got impatient and laced his fingers through your hair, moving you ever so slightly toward him.

The message was clear: more.

You happily obliged, bracing yourself with your hands on his rear, and took him further, and further, and further. And when your nose finally pressed into his stomach, you paused, hollowing your cheeks. You drew back just before you ran out of breath, running your tongue up the length of him before taking him all the way once more.

Aemond’s hands tightened in your hair as you repeated the action once, twice, three times. On the fourth, he gripped so tightly you were sure he’d tear half your hair out. On the fifth, he shouted a curse as he came, spilling down your throat and moaning as you sucked every last drop from him. When you pulled away, you left one last kiss on his tip.’

It took a while for him to catch his breath. He gazed at you adoringly the whole time. You waited until he was entirely calm before you teased him once more.

“Enjoyable as that was, I fear it will not produce a babe.”

Aemond’s smile fell into a frown of shame and affectionate annoyance, and you laughed.

[mrsjellymunson]

The Biology Tutor | Extra Credits 02

Extra Credits 02: FRENCH

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Prev: Lesson 1: Female Anatomy | Lesson 2: Male Anatomy | Extra Credits 01: Communication Skills Next: Independent Study 01: Art | Independent Study 02: Creative Writing

Pairing: virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader

Series summary: Eddie’s failing Biology class, so you decide to offer two different styles of tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.

Chapter summary: You give Eddie a French lesson.

WC: 2.9k

CW: 🔞 18+ MDNI! This part isn't explicit, but the rest of the series is, so MDNI!! Fluff, kissing, mentions of arousal.

A/N: This takes place between Extra Credit 1 and Lesson 3. It’s an added extra to The Biology Tutor series.

My masterlist

Despite your best efforts to keep things cool, you and Eddie’s relationship at school has shifted.

Eddie will greet you with a cheery, “Heeey, Princess”, whenever you pass in the corridors, and you’ll sometimes give him a cheeky wave in the lunchroom. You both flush a little whenever your eyes lock, thinking about all the intimate stuff you’ve done together over the past days and weeks.

Thankfully, as yet none of your friends have noticed the way you’ve started to giggle a little more loudly at Eddie’s antics on the lunch tables, or the way he shoots you cheeky glances to check that you’re watching. Each of your social groups would likely have something disparaging to say, and you’d prefer to avoid that kind of attention for the time being.

You’ve become even more aware of your physical proximity in Biology class. Even though you could probably reach out and touch each other (and you would really, really like to do that…) you try not to draw too much attention to yourselves.

You’re finding it hard to keep your focus on the front, knowing that Eddie’s sitting inches away behind you. But you revel in the fact that he’s there at all (and is, in all likelihood, checking out your ass).

At the end of class, Mr Clarke calls you over.

“I wanted to thank you for your efforts regarding the private tutoring. Mr Munson’s work has certainly improved since you began, as has his class attendance, which is remarkable in and of itself. And he seems to have become more enthusiastic about the human biology aspect of the syllabus too, which is… unexpected, but really good to see.”

He looks off to one side, momentarily bemused, but recovers quickly and continues,

“Nevertheless, there is a big test coming up which, as you know, makes up a sizable proportion of your grade. I would very much like to see Mr Munson do well. I was hoping that you might help him prepare, and in the hopes that you’d agree, I’ve already booked private study room 2C in the library specifically for this purpose.”

You know the library well, and the one he’s describing is a particularly quiet one, located at the back of the rarely-used reference section. If you can get Eddie to join you, it’ll be the first time you’ve ever been alone with him at school. You experience a frisson of excitement at the thought.

You readily agree, figuring that even if that wasn’t reason enough, getting further in the good graces of Mr Clarke wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. However, you do think convincing Eddie to relinquish his entire lunchtime might be another matter entirely.

You approach him in the lunchroom, managing to get to him before his usual table fills up with nerds. He was initially aghast that you were anywhere near him, but once he realised nobody was really interested he listened to your proposal.

“You seriously do this shit voluntarily?” is his only response, until you mention, more quietly, how it would mean spending an entire hour in a small, isolated room. With you. Alone.

Suddenly, he’s all for it, packing up his stuff as you exit ahead of him. He extols the virtues of ‘accepting with grace the assistance the universe offers you’ to the smattering of confused Hellfire boys before hightailing it out of the hall, stuffing pretzels into his mouth as he goes.

You reach the study room first, and are already setting out books and pencils as Eddie barrels in. He practically skids to a halt, and ambles towards you, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to act nonchalant.

“Hey, Princess.”

He plops his bag onto the tabletop, and as he gestures to the empty seats next to you and across the table, he drops his voice to a lower timbre as he asks you,

“So, uh, where do you want me?”

Thanks to his mildly suggestive question, an image flashes across your mind of perching him, naked, on the edge of the table and climbing atop him, but you quickly shake it.

You tap your hand on the seat next to you, and he enthusiastically flops himself down in it. He sits up straight, clasping his hands in his lap, theatrically attentive.

As he’s already managed to fluster you, you decide to fluster him right back.

“You’re so good at doing what I tell you, Eddie. I like that.”

Eddie’s cheeks flush pink and he swallows hard. It worked.

It doesn't take long for you to go over the test questions. Eddie’s picked up more than he’d thought from the parts of your sessions where you’d actually studied, and he flies through most of it, only getting stuck on a couple of gnarly chemistry formulae. What’s more, he actually looks like he’s having fun, gaining genuine satisfaction from answering your questions correctly and beaming as you let him know,

“That’s it, Eddie! You’ve got it!”

You can’t tell whether it’s the academic achievement, or the broad smiles and encouragement that you’re giving him, that’s his biggest driver, but at this point you’ll take either as a win.

You've gradually started sitting closer as the session has gone on. You’ve scootched to the edges of your seats, and your elbows and knees are gently knocking together. You can feel Eddie’s breath on your cheek as he jabs at his test total on your pad, screwing up his face and making a fist with his other hand in triumph. You’re genuinely thrilled for him, and not just because the very idea that you could be the reason for those gorgeous dimples popping makes your tummy flip.

Checking your watch, you realise you have a few minutes left before you have to leave, and there’s another new ‘skill’ that you’ve been thinking about trying with him.

Once all your supplies are back in your bag, you check the time again before asking,

“Eddie, would you like to try another quick practical session?”

He looks around the room, eyebrows disappearing into his bangs.

“What, here? Now?”

“Yes, but not like our, um, previous sessions. Something less… involved.”

“Okay, but what is it?”

“Eddie, I hope you don’t mind me asking you this, but have you ever kissed anyone?”

He looks a little abashed as he answers,

“Umm, does kissing your relatives on the cheek count?”

You can’t help smiling at his cute admission.

“For the purposes of this discussion, I’m gonna say no.”

He looks self-conscious, maybe even a little ashamed. Staring at the edge of the table, he clears his throat before replying,

“Then, uh, no.”

Not wanting him to feel uncomfortable, you reassure him,

“That’s okay, Eddie. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

After a beat, you continue,

“Would you like to try it? With me?”

“What?”

“Would you like for us to kiss, Eddie?”

His eyes become locked on your mouth. He swallows audibly, eyes shining with want.

“Umm, yeah. Yes. Yes, I absolutely would, Princess.”

“Just so I know how far you want to go, would you like us to… French kiss?“

“You mean… W- with, y’know, tongue?”

“Yes, Eddie. That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Are you okay with that? I mean, you don’t have to…”

Shaking your head a little, you reassure him,

“I’m the one who suggested it, Eddie!”

He looks down at his hands, now clasped again as he rubs his thumbs together.

“Only if you’re sure. I might be awful at it.”

“Well, that’s why we practice, right? So, first of all, we need to get a little closer…”

You turn your seat so you’re facing him directly, encouraging him to do the same. You pull your seat forwards, slotting your knees between his. You see his eyes scanning your face, and his fingers fidget, suggesting he’s not really sure what to do with them.

“You can rest your hands on my legs if you’d like, Eddie.”

He does so, but not without a little trepidation, and you see him swallow again.

“Just relax. I’m not gonna bite you. Not this time, anyway.”

You give him what you hope is a cheeky smirk. He smiles shyly, not sure where to look when you’re this close to him. Nervously, he licks his lips. The sight makes your thighs clench.

“Close your eyes and relax, Eddie. I’m gonna start with a quick peck.”

“O- okaaaay.”

He does as you ask, and you spend a few moments appraising him before you lean into his space. He looks angelic, his wild curls framing his pretty face and his rosy pink lips looking soft and inviting.

You turn your head slightly so your nose will slide past his, close your eyes, and ever so slowly connect your lips with his. Pursing them a little, you press forwards, and you hear a slight intake of breath.

You said it was going to be quick, but you’re enjoying the feeling so much you relish in it for a few moments. Eddie’s lips are plump, warm, and just a little moist from where he’s licked them. A tiny amount of stubble tickles your top lip. He smells of old leather, some kind of spicy cologne and vanilla chapstick, with a hint of cigarettes and weed. It’s a heady scent you could easily get lost in.

Gathering yourself, you pull back, rolling your lips inwards to taste him.

Eddie still has his eyes closed. If you’re honest he looks like he’s about to faint. Even after all you’ve done together you’re still a little nervous, and you’re suddenly mortified that he found it repulsive.

You did remember to brush your teeth this morning, didn’t you? Did you eat garlic last night and forget? Do you have spinach in your teeth, even though you definitely haven’t eaten spinach in weeks??

“H- how was that, Eddie? Did you like it?”

Suddenly, his eyes pop open. His lips part a little and he nods his head quickly, causing his chestnut locks to bounce around his face. He stares at you for a few more moments before he manages to say in a tiny, cracking voice,

“More? Please?”

You smile widely, and lean in again.

This time you move a little, pursing and softening your lips, changing their position slightly to find out what he likes, slotting them in different places.

To your surprise, this time Eddie starts to kiss you back. His plump lips press against yours and the tiniest moan emanates from his chest. He’s tentative at first, but as he gains in confidence he presses a little harder, and moves a little more.

Your lips move in sync as you rhythmically purse and relax them.

Eddie exhales heavily, and more than a little shakily, through his nose, and you feel his warm breath dance across your face and décolletage.

You part from him with a subtle wet smack.

He swallows thickly, and the grip on your knees strengthens.

You smile at him again, and his eyes flick between yours as he mirrors your expression.

“Okay Eddie, if you’re ready, this time I’m gonna use my tongue. You don’t have to do anything, but if you want to, just do what feels good. Alright?”

Eddie gives you another tiny, fast nod, and you feel him squeeze your knees again.

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready…”

He surprises you again as he shifts his hands slightly and slides them up your thighs, leaning into your space a little further. They feel warm, strong, and you can’t help but imagine how they might feel elsewhere.

What would it be like to hold his hand properly? Would his hand feel warm as it cupped your face? Would you be able to feel his rings? How would his calloused fingers feel running up your back, or across your…?

You’re broken from your thoughts as he closes his eyes again, a slight curl to his lips as he lets you know he’s ready.

You lean into his space again, and connect your lips as before. This time, you part your lips slightly and allow the tip of your tongue to poke out, and ever so gently brush across his lower lip. You hear that sharp intake of breath again as he stills, unsure of what he’s supposed to do, but then he parts his lips ever so slightly, and you slide your tongue past his lips and pearly teeth and into his mouth. You move it slowly, enjoying the feeling of his lips against it, the scrape of his teeth, the softness of his tongue beneath yours.

He moans again, and just as your tongue curls up to tickle the roof of his mouth suddenly his tongue is moving against yours, slowly, reverently, experimentally, and another moan leaves his chest.

His grip on your thighs tightens as he gets bolder, eventually pushing his tongue past your lips and into your mouth.

Abruptly, he turns his head slightly and pushes in more deeply, his tongue almost filling you. He’s insistent yet gentle, and now it’s your turn to gasp - he’s good at this - and a low whine leaves you.

You feel a chill on your legs as Eddie’s hands leave them, and you’re momentarily disappointed, but this rapidly turns into delighted surprise when one comes up to cup the back of your neck, the other grabbing the edge of your chair and pulling you closer towards him. He’s moaning continually now, turning his head to try different angles, licking and curling and sucking like you’re the very air he needs to breathe.

He’s pushing hard but not too hard, and when your teeth knock it’s adorable rather than uncomfortable.

It’s wet and messy, and oh, so fucking hot.

Your hands start travelling almost of their own accord, slipping up inside his jacket, sliding around his rib cage and settling on his surprisingly muscular back.

His hand travels up to your hair, mussing it, and you’re making his shirt ride up, but you couldn’t care less, lost in the sensations of your lips melding and tongues dancing.

There’s a pulsing heat in your core, and a wetness building in your underwear. You don’t think you've ever been this turned on just from kissing.

And how on Earth is Eddie so good at it?

You eventually both pull back, needing air, breathy and inhaling deeply.

Your eyes dance around his face, wanting to take it all in. His plump, kiss-bitten lips, his blown pupils, the way he’s looking at you with a stunned half-smile.

Needing a break from the intensity, you drop your eyes. But almost wish you hadn’t when you spot the obvious bulge in the front of Eddie’s pants.

He’s clearly enjoyed this as much as you have.

Just as you’re both leaning forward for another round, lips just brushing, the harsh and loud ringing of the school bell indicates the start of afternoon classes.

You and Eddie break apart with a start, exchanging breathy smiles, both a little surprised at how well that went.

He chuckles as he lets go of your hair, tidying it as best he can, and you pull down the hem of his shirt to straighten it.

”So, uh, I think I’d consider that lesson a success. Wouldn’t you, Mr Munson?”

He huffs out a little giggle, shaking his head slowly. His brow furrows and he fixes his face into as serious an expression as he can manage, as he dips his chin and replies,

“Oh, Princess, that feels like a great start. But you know, lessons work with me. So, just to be on the safe side, I think I might need a whole lot, lot more practice...”

He’s holding your gaze and nodding, raising his eyebrows and pursing his lips for emphasis.

You nearly snort at his brazenness, constantly amazed at how he so easily flips between abject fear and bolshy confidence, and manage to squeak out,

“Well, we’ll just have to see what we can arrange, won’t we?”

He grins at you again, those dimples even deeper this time, and tidies one more strand of hair at your temple.

Reluctantly, you both gather your things and leave the study room, still with shiny lips and heat in your cheeks.

You walk leisurely, your upper arms brushing, through the racks of dusty tomes. Neither of you is in any particular hurry to get to your next class.

You glance to your side, and notice that Eddie seems bigger, taller. He’s puffing his chest and is carrying himself a little differently. You like it.

He turns to you as he asks, “D’you think we should, y’know, leave separately or whatever?”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Awkward questions, and all that.”

You see Eddie’s eyes glance to the floor, then flit to the section containing the large encyclopaedias and dictionaries, before he adds,

“You know what, you go first. There’s something I want to check out in the reference section anyway…”

He flashes you a wink as you round the door jamb, causing something to revolve in your chest as you step out into the corridor. You definitely want to offer Eddie plenty of opportunities to practice this particular new skill.

As you head off to your next class, you wonder what on earth he could be up to. But more than that, you wonder how he’ll react to what you have in mind for your next study session…

Series masterlist

Prev: Lesson 1: Female anatomy | Lesson 2: Male Anatomy | Extra Credits 01: Communication Skills Next: Independent Study 01: Art | Independent Study 02: Creative Writing

Thanks so much for reading!

Remember, writers thrive on your comments and reblogs, so if you liked this little extra please show some love 💕

A/N 2: I added this as an extra because I wanted Eddie and reader to share a special first kiss, but couldn’t work out how to fit it into the main Lessons without making them ridiculously long. I hope you like it!

The taglist for this series is open whilst it’s ongoing, and I have a general one now too - just let me know if you’d like to join either 😀 My masterlist, where you’ll find more Eddie and Steddie fics

Taglist (open whilst this series is ongoing): @airen256 @bimbobaggins69 @urlbitchin @jamdoughnutmagician @rustboxstarr @bl4ckt00thgr1n @bexreadstoomuch @cozmiccass @sadlittlesquish @yujyujj @cluz1babe @thunderg @aysheashea @paleidiot @cadence73 @eddie-munsons-wifey @siriuslysmoking @neville-is-my-husband @aestheticaltcow @jjmaybankswifes-blog @lightcommastix @ungracefularchimedes @spenciesprincess @joejoequinnquinn @freshoutthewomb2 @sunshinepeachx @tlclick73 @hellfirenacht @yourdailymemedelivery @wendyxox @madaboutmunson @80s-addict @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @eddiesxangel @bunny7232 @starksbabie

[wttcsms]

turn on the flash and hit record ; simon “ghost” riley.

pairing simon “ghost” riley x f!reader word count 1.5k synopsis simon misses you on one of his missions. good thing he has a collection of movies the two of you filmed to keep him company. content contains male masturbation, possessive!ghost, obsessed!ghost, filmed sex, vaginal fingering, brief gunplay (towards the end), he whimpers in this fic btw, slight size kink/size difference

Everything about you seems to have been made specifically for him, from the way your eyes seem to always catch his to how easily he can manhandle you, flipping you into different positions as he very well pleases.

You indulge with his every whim, eager to follow his commands and so when he asks you love, can I record you just this once? you agree with little to no hesitation. After all, it’s Simon, your Simon — you know he’s possessive almost to a fault, and the man rarely shows his face unless he truly trusts the person he’s baring himself to. There’s no chance someone else will be able to get their hands on the footage.

His missions last too long, and the weeks he spends separated from you are nothing short of pure agony. Before you, he didn’t feel the constant need for release, but after you? He craves it. You only realize you’re starving after having a taste of what you’ve been deprived of for so long.

Which is how he finds himself here, tucked safely away in the darkness of a room in a safehouse that’s seen better days, the front of his military-issued pants and briefs pulled down just enough to free his cock.

The tip is flushed red, already leaking with pre, and he spits into the palm of his hand before wrapping it around his length, practically hissing at the contact. Propped up on the nightstand and located in his direct line of sight is his private phone containing only your number and an album full of photos and videos of you in different positions and various states of undress.

Recording you just once turns into a second time which leads to him recording the two of you going at it for a third time until eventually, he’s built up quite the collection. The video playing on his phone is one of his favorites; it’s one of the first he’s ever filmed, proven by the shyness still evident on your face and body as you blush when the camera lands on you.

You’re lying on the bed he shares with you, completely bare and entirely vulnerable. Scattered across your skin are various lovebites, all varying in depth depending on whether he wanted to give you just a playful nip or true mark to remember him by when he’s gone.

You look so pretty right now, love. Let’s hope the camera can catch that beauty, huh?

He can hear the familiar sound of his chuckle coming from the video; you’re the only person left in this world to ever see him with such a playful demeanor, but his laugh might be the last thing on your mind. He’s certainly not thinking too hard when the camera angles downward to showcase your dripping cunt.

Simon takes a sharp inhale as he watches the way your folds are practically glistening with your slick arousal.

Wonder if your pussy’s so wet, I’ll be able to hear it in the video. What do you think, darling?

He tightens his grip on his cock as he watches himself enter three fingers, your tiny hole struggling to adjust to the abrupt intrusion. The shlick sound that accompanies every thrust is picked up by his phone camera, and Simon groans as the room he’s currently in gets enveloped in the sounds of him playing with your wet pussy.

“Fuck,” he hisses out, watching the precum bead from the tip of his cock, some of it slowly dribbling down, running along the veins on his dick. The extra lubrication makes his movements smoother, and soon, there’s a subtle clicking sound as he tries to stroke his dick in tandem with the thrusts he’s doing on the screen.

“Simon!” Your sweet voice moans out his name in the recording. He’s watched this video so many times already; he knows that right about now, you’re going to start lifting your pretty hips in an attempt to get his fingers to penetrate you even deeper. He remembers the night he filmed this video; he’s going to curl his fingers right up against that special spot of yours that’ll have you cumming all over his hand.

He struggles to keep his lidded eyes from closing all the way, desperate to watch your tiny hole fluttering around his fingers, squeezing him so tight. In turn, the grip on his dick only tightens as he watches you writhe on top of the sheets, slender fingers curling against the bedsheets as you scream out his name. The camera catches the way you cream all over his fingers, effectively coating his skin in it all the way down to his knuckles. It’s practically dripping all the way to his wrist.

The sight has him practically drooling, his strokes now even rougher. He imagines his rough, calloused hands are your smaller, soft ones. The girth of his dick makes you unable to wrap your whole entire hand, the tips of your fingers unable to touch due to his massive width. He tosses his head back, bucking into his hand as the audio from your little film still plays in the background.

Such a good girl for me. Always so needy, aren’t you?

He doesn’t need to see the video to know you’re nodding in reply. He watches through hazy vision as the him in the video takes his thumb and traces your bottom lip. Without him even needing to ask, you part those pretty lips of yours and take his thumb in your mouth, sucking.

Fuck, what he would do to have you here by his side right now.

He’ll have to make do with these videos, though. It’s not like these little films aren’t enough to bring him to release. The idea of his sweet love being his own personal pornstar does something to him, and he shuts his eyes, still working his cock as other memories of passionate nights beforehand flood his mind.

There was that one night where the two of you played one of the videos of him fucking you to the point where tears were brimming in your eyes due to overstimulation. He made a vow that for every time you came in that video, he would make you cum even harder. (He had done well in keeping that promise.) He thinks of the way your flesh feels underneath his fingers, and he relishes in the memory of how it feels to squeeze your thighs as he spreads you apart so he can savor the taste of you on his tongue. He could eat your little pussy out for hours, and after this mission, he makes a promise to do so.

He’s nearing the end of the video; he knows so because his favorite line is about to come up and at the perfect time, too.

Simon, I-I want your cum. Please come for me, please?

He doesn’t need to look at his screen to know you’re pouting up at him, knowing just the right thing to have him groaning. His breaths are coming in short pants, and your sweet, dulcet tone makes him want to come right then and there.

Please, Simon.  

Your little pleas for him to reach the height of pleasure is music to his ears. He’s practically whimpering now, forcing himself to stroke himself even more rapidly despite the fact that the stimulation on his already sensitive cock is blending pain into his pleasure.

“Gonna do it for you, love.” He weakly moans out in this empty room. He can feel himself about to fall off the edge, his release so close that it’s just about palpable. With a low groan of your name mixed with a string of curses, he finds himself ejaculating all over his hand. The amount of cum is so much that it’s not enough for it to just coat the entire length of his cock and fingers — no, there are strings of white splattered on his abdomen, effectively staining his uniform.

He’s panting, the video now over, but before he can shut off the phone, a text notification appears.

My Love [One Video Attachment]

He clicks on it, curious as to what you could possibly be sending him.

It’s a new video, one you must have just now filmed. You’ve got one of his guns, the magazine lying on the nightstand. He knows it’s unloaded and basically a toy at that point, but he doesn’t understand what’s going on until he watches you strip yourself, leaving your beautiful figure on display. He can see you dripping for him already, and he watches with bated breaths as you take the barrel of his handgun and tease your soaking entrance with it.

I need you so badly, Simon. When will you come back home?

His cock is already hardening again, and he palms himself, fumbling with his phone to call you.

Everything about you is perfect to him.

[fayes-fics]

A Cure For Boredom

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Benedict finds a cure for your boredom during a party

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, dom/sub undertones, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, makeshift blindfolds, edging, dirty talk, quickie vaginal sex, mentions of gagging and exhibitionism.

Word Count: 1.5k

Authors note: Not a request fill, but I went where my muse requested as it's been so long since it let me write anything. This started life as an idle idea I had scribbled for a different fic, but it's decided to be a one-shot instead. I'm hoping this means my writing muse is returning. Enjoy <3

The makeshift blindfold he has made from one of your silk stockings drags over your eyelashes as you blink rapidly. Stifling a moan and shuddering as his teeth graze your neck, knowing you are pushing the boundaries of his rules by making any noise but unable to stop yourself. 

“Silence,” he reminds, the tone dripping with bemusement. “Or I cease.” You fold your lips under your teeth and bite down in an attempted display of obedience. “That’s better.” You can practically hear the predatory smile in his tone.

With your sight robbed, your other senses are heightened. A spike of fear pulses through your bloodstream, and your head jerks to the left as you hear people talking, or rather gossiping, loudly as they stroll by, likely quaffing champagne. It sounds like they are in the same room even though you know a thick door separates you. 

“It is alright; they have no reason to come in here,” he reassures, as your fingernails claw apprehensively at the polished, sturdy mahogany bookcase he has you sprawled against. “Besides, my darling, you were the one who stated you were bored at this soirée a scant twenty minutes ago,” he points out laconically, biting your earlobe gently before adding, “You are not bored now, are you?

You shake your head rapidly, feeling his hot breath dusting your cheekbone.

“Good,” he says duskily. “Now, where were we?”

It’s rhetorical. He knows exactly where he was—setting you a challenge as wonderful as it is awful. To stay completely silent as he fingers you mercilessly. Indeed, three of his long shapely digits are buried deep inside you, his knuckles stretching your pussy walls wide, clinging to him, his thumb teasing your clit. Your spine is resting on what are likely priceless leather-bound tomes, and he has one of your feet hitched onto a low shelf, your dress gathered around his forearm. No doubt, the host of this party wished for his private library to be off-limits for this evening’s party. Trust Benedict to flout any and all suggested rules.

Quiet whimpering through your nostrils is your begging, asking him not to edge you anymore. You feel strung out and sweaty, needing release more than anything. The frill of his shirt cuff tickles your inner thigh, and his steely cock brandishes your hip through his britches, teasing you with possibility. Part of you wants him to unbutton and just fuck you so hard that every book, from floor to ceiling, is rattled from its elegant place.

“Please, Benedict,” you mewl under your breath, writhing on his fingers, frustrated he’s not quite giving enough to push you over the precipice he has you dangled over.

His responding laugh contains an edge of menace. “But where is the fun for me, my darling, if I cannot make this a proper challenge? Bring you close to ecstasy as many times as I wish, as you have to stay quiet.” You just know his eyes are glittering darkly even though you are unable to see them.

“I cannot be silent,” you murmur, “you feel too good,” hoping the flattery will make him take pity and finally let you over the edge.

“You can and you will,” he counters, smirkingly, not taking the bait.

In fact, he even withdraws his fingers from you, a lewd, drenched sound as he does so. You pout and whine in protest as his fingertips trail wetness down the leg that still touches the floor.

“If you don’t stay silent, I’ll just gag you with your other stocking, my love,” his threat dripping like honey into your ear as he toys with the ribbon holding your other stocking aloft.

“Please make me come,” you stumble in reply, your pussy weeping, missing his plundering touch on that little spongy spot inside that makes rainbows dance across your eyelids.

“Hmmm, but I rather like you like this,” he argues back.

The hand that was teasing you appears from under your dress and rises to paint your juices over your puffy lips, darkened from your teeth biting down on them. The tart flavour seeps into your mouth as your skin feels like it is shimmering over your bones, needing to come so much that you are practically shaking. 

“Perhaps I shall change my mind. Perhaps you need not peak after all. I rather like the idea of taking you back to our seats right now, dripping down your legs for me, trembling with need. Making you sit through this interminably dull evening absolutely on fire,” the ominous filth he intones into your ear makes you gasp hard.

“Please do not,” you beseech, hands clutching at his sharply tailored cropped wool jacket, wishing you could plead with your eyes. “Please, husband, have mercy.” It’s an abject plea, wanting to tear off your blindfold. Instead, you pitch forward, seeking his kiss, lips pursed, your own desire still glistening upon them.

“I love you like this,” he rumbles, lips ghosting your teasingly but not kissing properly. “So desperate for me.” 

“Fuck me,” you whisper harshly as he snarls and finally takes your lips in a bruising kiss.

“We will surely be heard if I do that,” his answer garbled around your tongue.

“I don’t care. Let them find us; let them watch,” it’s words spoken from need, desires running roughshod over your usual boundaries.

He inhales sharply and cups your jaw, pushing the blindfold off your face and onto your head, seeking your eyes, the source of truth.

“You would let me do that?” he rags breathlessly, his gaze burning yours as you squint to readjust even in the low candlelight. “You would let me fuck you while others watch?” As he asks, he ruts hotly into your hip, his cock a warm mass you can feel through your gauzy dress.

“I would let you do anything to me,” you confess honestly. “Especially like this,” you point out, bucking your hips towards him, seeking friction against your aching, abandoned clit.

“Fuck… I love you,” Benedict wheezes and kisses the very breath from you, invading your mouth and making you swoon towards him. His passion can often be like a storm, and today is no different. 

You almost cry in victory when you feel him attack his trouser buttons, heaving breaths. Then he pushes you back into the bookcase with a force that almost winds you, his cock plunging into your soaked channel with no preamble, splitting you open and making you convulse hard around him, already coming from this alone, so long denied.

His hand clamps over your mouth as you scream, enraptured, him growling as you convulse around his cock. But even as you squirm and your mind scrambles, he offers no clemency, instantly beginning to thrust into you roughly. You cling on for dear life as he proceeds to fuck you so hard that the large books above you rattle ominously and you feel another orgasm rushing towards you at breakneck speed.

“Go on, come again,” he groans, sensing your proximity. “Make all the noise you wish,” he appends, changing the rules, uncaring now, greedily chasing his own completion.

It’s only a few moments of blinding pleasure before you shatter once more, the drag of his cock spearing hotly inside too much after being so thoroughly edged. Not wanting these urgent moments of lightning-quick sex interrupted, you barely make a sound, even given the permission you have to do so. Instead, you bury your face into his clothed shoulder and bite down, the wool itchy on your tongue as you scream into the fibres, fracturing again under his wonderous assault on your senses.

He has to grab your hips to keep you upright as you convulse and go limp, floating on a cloud of ecstasy. He grunts loudly and pushes deeper, a few more strokes before his whole body jolts in waves, going stock still as you feel his cock spurts heatedly into your hilt, and he effuses words of praise into your hair. 

For a few beats, there is nothing but panting breaths loudly in each other's ears, him seemingly reluctant to withdraw from your body.

“We should attend more dull Ton events,” you opine drolly as you recover the power of speech.

You feel his resulting chuckle inside as his cock slips from you. “Indeed we should,” he smiles lovingly, delicately removing the stocking from around your head and handing it to you to put back on as you both rearrange your clothing into an acceptable state.

Minutes later, he takes your arm, and you are rejoining the party, the picture of an impeccably elegant married couple. Still, as you retake your seats and he hands you a glass of champagne with a devoted, chase kiss to your temple, you suspect few other wives can feel cum dripping down their thighs and seeping into their stockings. Probably even fewer will find themselves screaming into their carriage curtains on the ride home as they get eaten assiduously from behind. Such is life as Mrs Benedict Bridgerton; frankly, you would not want it any other way.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Boyfriend!Kang Taehyun x F!Reader TW : reader depression ; other members being jerks ; Taehyun is kind of oblivious ; angsty ; fluff ending ; Word Count : 2.3k Request : @moon0fthenight : Can you do a fic abt txt taehyun, where reader comes to dance practice room but overhears some OTher member badmouthing her, twice, so just stops coming and just starts pulling away (ofc reader has depression but tae obv doesn’t know), and taehyun realizes

You sat in the corner of the practice room, your eyes turned down to look at your phone as Taehyun went to get drinks for himself and the guys. You hated when you got left alone with them, the last time you had been in a situation like this, they had gone about making you feel so unwanted and unwelcome in the room that by the time Taehyun came back you were on the verge of tears and ended up going home early. 

Today felt like it would most likely go the same way. You could feel their eyes on you, and the only feeling that you got from those eyes was annoyance and such a strong sense of dislike that it had your skin crawling. “Talk about a stage five clinger. Does she have to come to all of the practices?” They spoke about you as if you weren’t there, or maybe they just didn’t care enough to keep their shit talking to a level where you wouldn’t hear them. 

“She’s gonna ruin it for him since she’s always up his ass. Enough pictures come out about them all of the fans are gonna turn on him.” They made it seem like you were forcing Taehyun to take you with him to all of his practices when it was quite the opposite. Not that he was forcing you to go with him when he went, but he asked you every time if you wanted to go, and even if you found a reason to not go, he’d give you a million other reasons why you should go. 

You tried so hard not to let it bother you, but it seemed like at this point they were trying to hurt you. You weren’t even sure why they seemed to hate you so much, maybe it was just fun for them to see how much they could break you down, or maybe they just didn’t want Taehyun to be with anyone. Either why, they didn’t have to go as far as they were with the insults and the shit talking. “It probably wouldn’t be so bad if she were famous or something… But she’s just… She’s a nobody. What does he even see in her?” 

It didn’t even matter to you who was saying it, and it’s not like you wanted to look up to see exactly who was bad mouthing you. All you did know was that you wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, you couldn’t handle listening to anymore. You didn’t bother to find Taehyun to let him know you were leaving, you just had to go. You were sure he’d figure it out, or you at least hoped he would. 

When he came back with the drinks, his eyes scanned the room, his smile so bright until he had done a full 360 and realized that you weren’t there. “Did she go to the bathroom or something?” He asked, his eyes glancing to the door every couple seconds just in case you walked back in. It wasn’t like you to just up and leave without letting him know, and he worried that something might have happened to have you just disappearing the way you did. 

“She just ran off. I’m sure if it were a problem she’d be blowing up your phone. Don’t even worry about it man, we’ve got more important stuff to work on.” Yeonjun said, and the rest of the guys nodded their heads in agreement. It was a problem, no doubt, the way they all seemed to think that whatever could possibly be going on right now didn’t hold any kind of importance. Maybe it didn’t to them, but to him you were the top priority. 

Taehyun shook his head, trying not to get too annoyed with them as he pulled out his phone. “I’ll just call her real quick, make sure she’s okay.” He said, about to walk out of the room so he could talk to you in private out in the hallway, but Beomgyu snatched his phone out of his hand and shoved it into the pocket of his sweatpants. “What the he-”

“Call her later.” Beomgyu mumbled, moving to the center of the practice room to get into position. “She’s a distraction even when she’s not here, jeez.” He mumbled to himself, but all of the guys had heard it, Taehyun included, and his agitation levels were rising as the others laughed at what seemed to be a joke, but he wasn’t the biggest fan of their comedy if it meant putting you down. 

“That’s not even funny.” Taehyun said under his breath, getting into position so he could start rehearsing the new dance. As much as he wanted to call you and make sure everything was okay, he knew that it would be faster if he just got practice over with so he could get back home to you as soon as he could. 

Did he even notice that you weren’t there anymore? You thought that maybe he would have tried to get in contact with you once he noticed you weren’t in the room, but your phone hadn’t gone off at all. Maybe he just didn’t care anymore. Maybe the guys had talked to him and made him finally realize just how useless you were to him. They were right. You weren’t an idol, you weren’t famous in any way. You weren’t even sure what he saw in you. You didn’t deserve him, you didn’t even deserve to be in the same room with him, let alone sleep in the same bed as him every night. The only thing you’d do by continuing to stay with him was jeopardize his career, and you didn’t want to do that. You wanted him to be successful, and with you in the picture, you knew he would never get to where he truly could be. 

Part of you wanted to stick around, just long enough to tell him that you were leaving, and that part of you also hoped that maybe he’d beg you to stay, that he’d tell you that you were being crazy. Then there was the part of you that was more realistic, the part that told you that he wouldn’t care if you stayed or left. You weren’t helping him in any way, it’s not like you were the one going on tours and concerts and performing for millions of people. You were disposable, he didn’t need you at all. 

Sadly there wasn’t much that you could do this late at night, and there was nowhere for you to go, so you’d at least have to deal with whatever was to come, at least for one more night. Your phone started to vibrate and Taehyuns picture illuminated the screen. Would he tell you that he wasn’t coming home tonight? Why would he want to come home and see you anyway? He could do better than you… And you didn’t want to answer the phone to hear him say that, so you let it ring until the notification came up that you had a voicemail, and you didn’t want to listen to that either. 

The front door opened slowly, maybe he thought you were sleeping and he was trying to come in quietly, or maybe he was trying to sneak in so he could avoid you and go straight to the bedroom. It’s not like he’d want to see you anyway, you were nothing special, you were nothing in general. “There you are, I thought you were sleeping since you didn’t answer…” He said, sighing after the words had left his mouth. Was it a sigh of relief or a sigh of disappointment that you were still awake, that he’d still have to deal with you?

“Was just getting ready to go to bed.” You said, pushing yourself up off the couch. “Goodnight.” You added as you walked past him, heading down the hall towards the guest bedroom. Who would want to wake up next to you? Surely not him. He was too good for you, too perfect. He didn’t deserve to have to see you in the morning when he just woke up from his dreams of being with someone better, someone prettier than you. 

“Hey…” He whispered, quickly kicking off his shoes and following after you. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He quizzed, and you didn’t want him to pretend to be worried about you, you didn’t want him to ask questions that you knew he didn’t care to know the answers to. Plus, those questions were just enough to have you getting choked up as you shook your head, trying to walk faster to get away from him, but he was faster, moving in front of you and putting his hands on your shoulders to stop you from going any further. “You’re really worrying me now… Can you just talk to me?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’ll be gone by tomorrow, you don’t have to pretend to give a shit anymore.” You tried to sound strong, to sound unbothered, but your voice broke, and it felt like you were breaking too. The entire life that you had lived with Taehyun, the life that you were dreaming of for the future, it had all been a lie, but for what? “I just want to go to bed.” 

“What the hell are you talking about? Why are you leaving tomorrow? Where are you going?” He asked quite urgently, his eyes wide and the corners of his lips pulling down, not into a pout, but he just looked sad. You had never seen him look that way before. Maybe it was because he finally was getting caught, the truth was going to come out. “And what do you mean I pretend to give a shit? What the hell happened? Where are you getting this from? Just talk to me, dammit.” 

You rolled your shoulders, causing his hands to drop to his sides dejectedly, the look of sadness on his face only growing more prominent as you stepped away from him. “I know what you and the guys talk about. I heard them. I don’t know why you’re with me either… But you don’t have to keep playing this part or this role or… Whatever it is you’re doing. I know you’re famous, I know that you’re above me in every single way… But that doesn’t mean that I don’t get hurt by this shit. Was it a bet? Was it a game? Why did you let it go so far?” 

His eyes widened along with his mouth, his head shaking profusely. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if they said anything that hurt you, tell me and I’ll handle it. I’m not with you for a game or a bet, and I sure as hell am not above you. I’m not above anyone. I love you because I fell in love with you from the moment I saw you… I wanted to be with you and only you. You have to talk to me though… Tell me what they said. What did they say?” 

Was this what the guys were talking about? You’d ruin the group. Is this how it would be ruined? If you said anything, if you told Taehyun what the guys had said, he’d surely be pissed if what he was saying was true. It would completely destroy the friendship that the guys had. You didn’t want to be the cause of that. You didn’t want them to be right. “It’s nothing… Don’t worry about it.” You mumbled, trying to move around him as he stood in the center of the hall, you were so close to the guest room door, but he refused to let you go. 

Taehyuns arm shot out, his hand landing against the wall to block you from leaving the conversation. “It’s obviously something. How the hell am I supposed to not be worried when you’re talking about leaving me? You’re doubting that I ever loved you, and you’re still trying to sleep in a different bed than me, and you want me to believe that it’s nothing? Regardless of if you tell me or not, I’m going to find out because I’m pissed at them now for even causing this in the first place. But, if you tell me, I can make sure you know that everything they said, whatever it is, it’s not true. It’s not true…” 

The urge to cry had been building the entire time, but now the tears were finally being let free, trickling down to hang from your chin as you shook your head. You felt absolutely pitiful right now, and all you could think of was how pathetic you must look. “I’m not good enough for you… I’m annoying and I’m clingy and I’m a nobody… I don’t know why you’re with me… Nobody knows…” In your own ears you sounded so whiny, which only verified the truth that only you believed in, that you were annoying… Why would he want to be with someone like you? 

His arms wrapped tightly around you, his hand gently pressing your face into his chest as he held you close. “It’s not true… None of that is…” He repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. “You are good enough for me, if anything, I’m not good enough for you. I’m always so busy and I can’t be here for you like I want to be… But you’re always here for me, and you never left my side, and that makes you more deserving than anyone else to stand by my side… Which is where I want you to be always. And that in itself proves that you’re not the clingy one… I am. I like having you with me, and if they guys have a problem with that… They’re just gonna have to deal with it, and part of me thinks that they’re jealous because they don’t have someone as amazing as you to support them and love them unconditionally like you do for me. I’m with you for a lot of reasons, but the most important reason is that I love you, and there’s nothing that anyone can say or do to change my mind. All I want is you, forever and ever…”

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[atinystaypixie]

SugarDaddy!Toji Retiring Babygirl #2

Read Part 1 here

18+ MDNI!!

SugarDaddy!Toji and Babygirl after he retired her (NSFW tumblr link)

Toji and Y/n both madly in love with each other. Once he retired her, the time they spent together felt as natural as breathing. The couple enjoys each other’s company every second of every day.

Many of those moments were spent in the room he had specially designed for you. Lights setting a sensual mood, pole in the middle of the floor, mirrors decorating the surrounding walls. Toji knew his baby still loved dancing even though you left the scene and he’s the type to get you anything you like. Your happiness being his main goal but the bonus being personal performance from you.

There were speakers in the room that allowed music to flow out. Toji would catch your practicing or making a new routine some days and would stand at the door admiring the flow of your body. He didn’t know why you being on the pole spinning and flipping enticed him so much, but the raven haired man could watch you all day.

His favorite times were times like tonight. His girl treating him to a show of her new full routine because he had been working so hard. Sitting in the chair placed so he has a front row seat, Toji gets comfortable and waits for his girl to start her private show for him. Your feet having an expensive pair of heels that he has bought you, lingerie that makes him desperate to touch you, and makeup done to perfection waiting to be ruined by him. 

You begin your dance, circling the pole before wrapping a leg around it. With every count of the beat, your body moves and holds Toji’s full attention. He won’t miss a second of the gift his baby is giving him. No matter how many times you dance for him, he will always be hypnotized by you. Mind black, hands aching to feel you, and pants tightening at the sight of you. Toji’s anticipation grows when he sees you start climbing the pole.The man zoning in on the exposed flesh of your thighs and ass.

When you reach height, you do a few spins before locking your legs around the metal.This is his favorite part. The recreation of the scene that brought you two together on that night he visited the club where you were performing. You let your top half fall backwards, breast pushing out as you slightly arch your back. You make a slow descent upside down before pausing. This leaves you face to face with Toji. He leans in for a quick peck to your lips, running his tongue over them to get a taste of his favorite girl. Toji runs his hands over your body, finally getting relief from touching you. Eager for what’s coming next, Toji gives you space to continue. Your fingers grip at his thighs for balance causing his dick to twitch. You unfold your legs from the pole and let them flip to the wideness of Toji’s shoulders.

The man is met with your clothed cunt in his face, his happy place. You begin to wind your hips feeling him grab at your thighs. He litters wet kisses from the inside of your thighs till he reaches your covered clit. The attention causes you to shiver and pull your legs close before lowering to the ground. You turn and face Toji laying your head on his lap as you rub up and down the length of his muscular thighs now. A calloused hand cups your face, thumb rubbing your cheek as loving eyes are cast upon you. “Up, doll. Daddy wants to unwrap his treat,” his gruff voice flows to your ears.

You stand and turn so that your back is to his chest with your hand pulling his head to your neck. His bulge is visible and hard poking your soft flesh. You grind on him as he holds you licking at your neck. Toji reaches around and sticks his hand down the front of your outfit to find home on one of your boobs. Groping at your skin before tugging your straps down one by one. He stills your hips to stand up bringing you with him. Pulling the outfit till it falls to your feet leaving you bare and exposed for the beefy man behind you. Feeling his hand trail your spine while steadily applying pressure gives you the signal to start bending over. Your hands hit the floor first, then you slide your chest lower, and now your legs are widening as you start hitting a split. The move gives Toji an eye full. He’s going to fuck you right here on this floor. It won’t be the first nor last time he takes you here. Your body causes his dick to lead him.

Toji removes all his clothes, stripping off his shirt, pants, and boxers. Your naked body only accompanied by your heels are calling to him. He falls to his knees behind your open legs and cups your wet pussy. “T’is all for me, doll? I’m honored.” He flashes you a smile in the mirror that’s surrounding you. He runs a thumb down your slit making you moan from his touch before he lands a heavy smack on your ass. Toji lifts your hips high enough to slot his legs under yours and drops you back down. He’s sitting flat with you in a split on his lap.

With the view of you spread pretty for him, Toji feels his cock get impossibly harder. The love of his life exposed and ready to take him has his head swirling with sinful thoughts. He grips the heavy girth in his hand and taps it on your ass. You arch, showing him more of your folds making him chuckle. “Alright, doll. I’ll give you what you want.” You feel him grab you and spread you open before there is circling at your opening. Moaning and rocking backwards trying to get him inside you makes Toji give you a stinging smack. “I said I would give it to you, now be patient.” The man says deeply. He drags his cock from your hole to your clit, rubbing his tip to it. Your voice echoing through the room as you whine to him from the stimulation.

It’s when he takes his length and pushes into you slowly that your voice gets caught in your throat. He’s going inch by inch. The raven haired man letting you feel every vein and throb of his thick cock. He keeps going till all of him has found sanctuary inside of your warmth. A rough hand runs down your skin letting you adjust to the familiar intrusion of him. His voice reaching your ears when he says, “fuck me, doll.” That’s all it takes to have you sitting up to bounce on his dick. Your hands hold his thighs for leverage as you sink back to the base of his length each time. His name falling from your lips like a mantra. Toji’s in a trance watching your cunt swallow him whole. When his dick is revealed, there’s a trace of you covering him. His dick coated in your essence.

He can’t take it anymore. He loves when you treat him, but can never resist to take control and fuck you like a dirty slut. From the first night you met, Toji always showed he cares more for your pleasure than his. You feel his arms encircle your waist and his breath at your ear, “thank you, baby. Let me treat you now.” Toji pulls out of you to lay you on your back with your heel clad feet wrapping around him. Before you have time to complain, he’s inside of you delivering heavy strokes. Your insides clamp onto him as he slides in and out. “Shiittt, Daddy! Right there! Right there!” You yell as he repeatedly hits your g-spot. Toji groans as he feels your nails drag down his back making his balls tighten.

He leans in to kiss you as you both are moaning from the feeling of each other. Toji grabs your face and makes you focus on what he’s saying. “You feel me? Feel how deep I am?” He asks proudly as he takes a large hand and presses it to your stomach. Your eyes roll back for the pressure he is applying. He starts rubbing tight circles on your clit with his other hand making your body convulse. “That’s it, baby. Give it to me, come on.” The man talks you through your orgasm. His voice only adds to the pleasure making you cream around his cock. Overstimulation kicks in once you realize he hasn’t stopped his movements. “One more baby. I know you can do it.” Toji begins slamming into you, turning your brain to mush. He loves the way you have tears running down your cheek and can’t stop babbling. 

“I’m close, doll. Cum with me.” He grunts into the crook of your neck. The tightening of your slick walls causes the man to erupt inside of you while you cum around him again. He gives slow thrust, working you both through your high. “Toji. I love you” Your voice lands on his ears as you kiss at his skin.

“Not as much as I love you.” He responds back. You laugh at his response not knowing of the shiny diamond ring he had custom made for you. The ring he would be placing on your finger soon.

Thoughts of a Slutty Virgin - 🧚🏽‍♀️

I hope you enjoyed this one. It had been on my mind for a sec. My writing isn't the best so I really appreciate the love yall showed for the first part 💜

ENJOY!

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[sam24]

Metal Arm Cupid

Summary: Bucky didn't know what to expect in the 21st century. But he definitely didn't expect cute girls to barge into meeting rooms and beat people up.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

*****

Bucky made no attempt to stifle his yawn as he pretended to listen to the debrief (that was looking more like an argument to him) that was going on way too long for his liking, earning a sharp glare from Steve, but Bucky could tell that deep down, Steve wanted to hightail outta there too.

“Stop taking all the credit, Josh. I was the one who stabbed him. You just sat there and watched like an obese cow.”

Josh (Bucky thought his name was Jack until now) scoffed. “That’s Agent 16 to you, Avery.”

“It’s actually Avril, you little-”

“Agents, you better stop this instantly.” Fury narrowed his eyes at the bickering partners.

“Stop embarrassing me in front of the Avengers, Evelyn, and let me do the talking. Clearly you can’t because of those oversized donkey teeth of yours.” Josh paid no heed to Fury.

The girl (Avril?) gasped and her hand instinctively flew to cover her mouth. “Why you-”

“Okay, that’s enough.” A dangerously calm voice rang through the room.

All eyes flew towards Natasha, you looked like she was going to murder the next person who opened their mouth.

“This is why I don’t go on missions with sensitive baby agents.” She muttered in Russian.

Bucky cracked a smile.

“How come no one listens to me?” Fury grumbled.

“Probably because you aren’t a trained assassin with 20 different weapons hidden on your body, and I bet you also don’t know 5 different ways to kill someone with an oven mitt.” Clint whispered in Fury’s ear.

“It doesn’t matter who stabbed who, it matters what happened in the end. And in the end, I was the one you saved your ungrateful asses, so you can stop arguing like toddlers now.” Natasha growled.

Her eyes narrowed specifically at Josh.

Nobody spoke. Probably because no sane person wanted a bullet from Natasha’s gun in their head.

“You seriously couldn’t have done that 20 minutes ago?”

Of course, though, Tony Stark was far from sane.

“Shut up, Tony.” At least 5 different people said at the same time.

Josh cleared his throat, recovering from his mini paralysis stroke.

“No offense, but-”

Before Josh could get himself killed, loud voices outside of the door made everyone turn.

Honestly, they all probably would’ve turned even to watch a fly so they could ignore Josh’s excuses.

“Miss, I can’t let you-”

“I really don’t care, so move. Now.”

Bruce immediately sat up. “Is that Ace?”

“Oh, thank god.” Tony let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “I’m so bored right now, maybe she’ll make this actually interesting.”

Even though Bucky’s stay at the compound started recently, he had heard plenty of stories about you, the infamous ‘Ace’. To what he’d heard, you worked at the lab with Bruce and Tony, like a daughter to them both. You were an ‘intellectual sage’ (described by Barton), hence the nickname, Ace.

“I said, MOVE!”

“Banner, what is the meaning of this?” Fury ordered.

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows and completely ignored him. “What in the world is she doing?”

“Banner!”

“I SAID MOVE, DAMNIT.” A loud thud followed closely and the door was flung open so hard it practically ripped off of its hinges.

“Lord have mercy.” Bruce buried his face into his hands as you barged into the room, pulling along a terrified looking girl behind you.

Bucky’s eyebrows raised with interest as he took in your purple highlights, Converse High-Tops, and Gravity Falls shirt peeking out from under your lab coat.

“Look, missy, in case you haven’t noticed, this is a private meeting. I’m going to give you 5 seconds to leave before I have you escorted out instantly.” Fury demanded.

“Yeah, that’s cool, Patchy the Pirate, just give me a minute.” You weren’t even looking at Fury as you scanned the room.

“Ha! Patchy the Pirate! Laura’s gonna love this!” Clint smacked his hand on the table and leaned his chair back (and almost fell backwards if Steve didn’t catch it, but that’s not the point).

Fury looked like he was seriously contemplating life as you still didn’t spare him a glance, and your narrowed hawk eyes landed on someone behind Bucky.

He followed your gaze to meet Josh, who had raised two fingers in the air cockily to greet you and the girl behind you.

“Josh, you mother fucker.”

And before Steve could say ‘language!’ (yes, Bucky had caught on pretty quickly after Tony would say it every other sentence), you had crossed the room in what felt like just two strides and socked Josh right in the jaw.

The room erupted in chaos.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Steve was up on his feet in a millisecond, his Captain America side taking over.

“That’s it, honey! Do it again!” Tony cheered.

“Is this some kind of Midgardian greeting that I have not yet been informed of?”

“Someone tell me what the hell is going on in my own meeting!”

“That was the best thing I’ve seen in my whole life.” Avril grinned.

Natasha didn’t say anything, but her face clearly said ‘girl, me too’.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” Sam chuckled from next to Bucky.

“Same.” Bucky muttered under his breath.

“Whoa hold up, did you just agree with me??”

“Shut up, pigeon brain.”

“Excu-”

The only thing that stopped Sam and Bucky’s cat fight was another punch to Josh’s precious face, this time right in the nose.

Bruce tried to reason with you from across the whole ass room, practically shouting over all the commotion as Steve tried to pull you away from Josh.

“Ace, sweetheart, why don’t you talk it out instead of going straight to violence? Doesn’t that sound like a better idea?”

“Sounds great, Bruce, but that’s not an option anymore!” You shouted back over your shoulder.

“Look, champ, it’s not right to randomly punch people like that!” Steve was still trying to pry you away from Josh.

“Look, Pops,” You mocked. “It’s also not right to cheat on your girlfriend with some random chick you ran into at a bar!”

Everything stopped.

Except Josh’s struggling from your grasp.

“He cheated on you?” Tony broke the silence, looking like he was going to blast Josh into outer space. “Wait, when were you guys even together? And why in the goddamn world would you date that guy?”

“Not me, dimwit, her.” You point your free hand that was not gripped on Josh’s collar at the girl behind you, looking ready to sprint out of there when all eyes landed on her.

“Just leave it, ma moitié, it’s not worth it.” She said quietly, her words coated in a thick french accent.

Bucky recognized her as the nice agent who gave him a coffee last week after Sam ‘accidentally’ knocked over Bucky’s.

“Just leave it? Absolutely not, hun!”

“Listen to her, Ace.” Bruce pleaded.

“No! This sleazy bastard cheated on my best friend! No fucking way! Literally, who the hell would cheat on a cute french girl?”

“Ace, violence isn’t the right way to-”

“Excuse me?” Josh’s voice rang out, sounding like someone was holding his nose closed shut. “Can someone get me an ice pack?”

You whipped around towards him.

“You. Want. An. Ice pack.” You restated, shooting daggers- no, 7 inch sharp kitchen knives at him.

“My nose hurts.” Josh rolled his eyes. “Y’know, after you turned all Crazy Psycho Lady on me and broke it.”

“You know what?” Your smile dripped with bitterness and sarcasm. “How about I punch it again so it’ll go numb and it won’t hurt anymore?”

You reached your arm backwards to land another punch, but Steve rushed to grab you again, and the chaos resumed.

Tony was instructing you to “kick Steve in the balls and resume beating the shit out of Josh”, while Bruce was very strongly vetoing the idea.

Sam and Clint, meanwhile, were placing bets on how much the medical bill was gonna be.

Suddenly, Bruce rushed over to Bucky.

“Look, man, you gotta help me.”

Bucky looked at Bruce with wide eyes. “Me?”

“Yeah! If you tell her to stop, she would in a heartbeat!”

“Why?” Bucky knew where this was going.

“Because of your metal arm!”

Bucky’s heart sank. Of course you were scared of it. Everyone was. They thought it made him a monster.

So did he.

Even though he was so, so grateful to Shuri for trying to help him feel like a new person with a new arm that wasn’t associated with HYDRA, that bloody ruthless murderer that they made him into never seemed to leave.

He would always be him.

No matter how hard he tried, the memories followed him like a lost puppy, attacking at night when he was trying to sleep.

No matter how hard he tried, he could never shake off the imprint HYDRA had left on him.

No matter how hard he tried or how much Steve told him otherwise, Bucky was still a monster.

A cruel, cold-hearted, evil monster who killed the innocent.

Who killed innocent men, women, and children who didn’t deserve to be killed.

He was the one who deserved to be killed.

“She’s absolutely obsessed with it!”

Bucky choked on his spit.

“Wha-w-what?”

“She adores it.” Bruce rushed. “She says it’s, and I quote, the most beautiful and extraordinary thing to ever be made in history.”

Okay, so apparently Bucky did not know where that was going.

“Still not convinced?” Bruce groaned. “She thinks it’s the most amazing thing in the galaxy. She says it’s the ‘peak of engineering’. You can ask Tony if you still don’t believe me.”

Tony wasn’t extremely fond of Bucky, and neither was Bucky of him, so he decided to take Bruce’s word for it, no matter how much it shocked him.

She likes my arm?

Just because she likes your arm doesn’t mean she likes you, idiot.

“Uh, okay? So, um, what do I do?”

“Tell her to stop!” Bruce lightly shoved Bucky forward when he slowly got up out of his seat.

Bucky hesitantly took a step forward, his mind still trying to process everything.

Bucky maneuvered around Steve, tapping you - who was still out to get it for Josh- on the shoulder after a moment of hesitation.

“Bruce, I already told you, it’s too late-” You spun out of Steve’s grip, but your mouth dropped open when you realized it was not Bruce.

You stared at Bucky with wide eyes. But not out of fear.

Out of adoration.

He was struck with a sudden flash of nostalgia of how his mom looked at him when he gave her a card for Mother’s Day when he was 6.

"Oh, Jamie, I love it.” She had said as she read it with a soft smile.

And that same smile was on your face. “Um, hi there.”

He smiled back.

But not one of those fake smiles he put on to make Steve happy. An actual genuine smile.

And it felt good.

You smoothed out your coat, taking in a breath. “Can I help you?”

Steve stared at the two of you, a grin spreading onto his face.

“I’m not surprised. Those psychos are perfect for each other.” Josh rolled his eyes.

Neither of you heard him.

“Hi, I’m Bucky.”

“She knows.” Tony groaned.

“Shut up, Tony.” Your eyes never left Bucky’s. “Hi Bucky.”

He saw your eyes light up as they made their way to look at his metal arm.

Bruce cleared his throat loudly.

“So, um, Ace. The arm has been giving me a bit of trouble recently. I was wondering if you could maybe take a look at it?” Bucky glanced at Bruce before looking back at you.

“He means now.” Bruce added.

You looked like you were going to faint out of excitement.

“Y-yeah, of course.”

Bruce let out a loud sigh of relief.

“Um, actually.” Bucky started.

Bruce’s head shot up and started mouthing something to Bucky - probably something along the lines of ‘No! Get her out of here before she kills him!’- but he was busy looking at you.

“Maybe you wanna grab a coffee first?”

[urperfectcinnamonroll07]

Hii I just want request something of ceo mingyu and ceo reader dom/mean jealous mingyu , flirty/sub reader, reader is beautiful and everyone wamts to get inside her pants. where mingyu likes reader ,and has a meeting with her privately for some company collaboration and now the meeting lead to another thing, smut hard rough thank you!!!

Behind Closed Doors

requested?: yes pairing(s): ceo!kim mingyu x afab!reader colleague!dino(lee chan) x platonic!reader (mentioned) genre: smut, office au warning(s): smut, sir kink, pussy slapping, degradation, mentions of (slightly) older men flirting on reader, not proof read, hair pulling, oral (f recieving), orgasm denial (kinda), mingyu calls reader slut a few times, lmk if i missed any summary: 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘺𝘶 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘴, 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 word count: a/n: of course i can write this! we all love mingyu in a suit after all. thanks so much for requesting, and if anyone wants to leave a request, feel free! make sure to eat and drink something, have a lovely morning/day/evening/night! love yas, mwah (side note: this took fucking ages and i dont even know why😭😭)

mingyu was your boss. he was hot, but you were counted as the prettiest girl in the whole of the office. all of the men (and some women) all wanted to get in your pants and it was obvious. mingyu was pissed because they were all older than you and he, quite frankly, found it disgusting.

you were everything from gorgeous to the most sexy person in the office. you denied all of their requests politely with your charming smile and enticing doe eyes. you had a perfect body with the most perfect curves. most women wanted to be you, but some men wanted you, and simply you.

but one day, mingyu found you talking to a guy in the corner, at the coffee machine. to him, you looked uncomfortable, but kept your smile on your face.

you would always do that. whenever you were at a work party, you would always laugh politely at the jokes, even if they were stupid, you would always have a smile on your face. at work conferences, even when you were bored at work. always.

mingyu was enraged to see you talking to him and practically stormed his way over, weaving in and out of the desks.

as soon as he stood next to you, your eyes brightened.

"meet me in the conference room, we need to talk about some company collaberation coming up" he says to you before walking away, taking quick strides before getting to the conference room.

you met him there as soon as you could, your heels clacking against the floor. your pencil skirt rode up and down with every step you took, and your blouse perfectly buttoned to show some cleavage, but not much. you couldn't help but feel a spread of warmth inbetween your legs.

mingyu looked up as you entered, you closed the door softly behind you. the blinds in the conference room were drawn, not letting much light in. the lights were off, the only light was coming from mingyu's laptop which was at the other end of the room at the end of the conference table.

his black blazer was thrown across the back of the chair that was sat to his right. his shirt sleeves were rolled up, showing his muscly forearms and the veins that lay inside of them. he was slightly man-spreading, even though you couldn't tell at first, slouched back in his chair.

you walked towards his end of the table, pulling out the chair on his right and sitting down on it. you crossed your legs, and your skirt rode up, showing more thigh than you were before. mingyu looked down.

"yes" he cleared his throat and looked back up into your eyes "i just wanted to talk to you about a work collaberation coming up soon" he says, his eyes drifted down to your clevage before looking back up again.

you smirked to yourself and leaned forwards so your tits were just about resting on the table, you crossed your arms in front of you. mingyu swallowed thickly and looked away.

"you sure it wasn't because you were jealous?" you whisper softly, your doe eyes peircing through his.

"why would i be jealous?" he asks as if the question you asked was completely and utterly ridiculous.

"because you saw me talking to lee chan" you said sweetly, he said nothing.

after a while, you stood up and began to walk out.

"where do you think you're going?" he says, getting up and grabbing your wrist.

he miscalculated how much he would have to pull you, so he pulled you harshly, making you crash into his chest. he was panting harshly as you looked up at him. he leaned in, and so did you for a few seconds, but he pulled back.

"we can't. you're my colleague and it would be unprofessional" he whispers, letting you go.

he turned away from you, running a hand through his hair. you didn't make a move.

"uhm... i should get back to work" you say before turning back to the door.

"fuck it" you hear him mutter.

he grabs your hips and spins you around, crashing his lips onto yours. the kiss was passionate and full of love. you felt his tongue swipe across your bottom lip, asking for entrance. you gladly granted him it, his tongue sliding into your mouth and finding yours.

he trapped you against the door, holding you there as the kiss got more and more frantic. your right hand tugged at his hair, your left on his right shoulder.

he un-buttoned your blouse and threw it to the floor, not breaking the kiss at all. he then pulled you against his chest and unclasped your bra, throwing it along with your blouse.

mingyu moved you so you were sat on the edge of the table with him inbetween your legs, still kissing you. his kisses soon travelled down your body, leaving small bites on the way.

you moaned out as he sucked softly on your right tit, your hands flying to his hair and getting tangled in it.

"f-fuck mingyu-" he nipped you with his teeth, you gasped.

"sir" he growled out

"m' sorry sir" you whimper out.

you felt him smirk against you as he moves to the other side, giving your other tit just as much attention as he did the other.

he let your tit go with a pop, he unbuttoned his dress shirt and threw it somewhere on the table. he took your face in his hands and kissed you again, but this time more harsh than the last.

you moaned into his mouth as you felt his hand through your skin-coloured tights rubbing soft circles on your clit. he almost ripped your tights off, along with your skirt. he smirked as he saw the wet patch on your panties.

"so wet for me already huh? i've barely even touched you. bet you were wet even before you came in here huh slut, wet thinking about how when you came in here that i would probably fuck you completely dumb" you nodded in response, as to which he landed a harch slap on your clit.

you yelped in response, mingyu grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked it backwards.

"words, slut, words" he says, delivering another harsh slap to your cunt.

the aftershock of the slap send ripples of pleasure stinging throughout your body.

"i was wet before i came on here! i'm sorry sir i just couldn't help it" you almost yelled out.

mingyu chuckled maliciously, rubbing harsh circles on your puffy clit, but just before you could moan out, he got down on his knees, inbetween your thighs. he looked up at you and, oh, did he look so fucking hot. he chuckles and attatches his lips to your clit, sucking on it harshly, earning a string of porno-worthy moans from you.

he keeps sucking and licking your soaked cunt as he presses his fingers into you, earning another lewd moan. just as you were about to finish, mingyu stopped all of his actions.

you whined as he took his fingers away from you, your pussy clenching around nothing. he chuckled upon seeing you do so.

soon, he stood back up, undoing his belt and shoving his dress pants down, along with his underpants, freeing his hardened cock. it sprung out and slapped against his stomach. he was big.

"stand" he says forcefully, you do as he says and stand up, but with wobbly legs from your ruined orgasm "such a good little slut for me" he says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

he smiled at you sweetly before grabbing your hips and turing you around so your ass is pressed against him. mingyu then grabs your head and pushes you down so you were bent over the table.

he pushed inside of you, his thick cock filling you up entirely. he barely gave you time to adjust before he pulled out, just leaving the tip in and slamming back inside of you.

he did it over and over, tangling his hands in your hair and pushing your head down, your cheek was against the glass table. you reached above you for something to grip onto, and found his dress shirt, balling it into your fist.

his cock pumping in and out of you, had you making sounds of pleasure. you were fairly quiet, until he pounded into you harder and harder, hitting that gummy spot inside of you over and over again, making you see stars.

you could've screamed at the pleasure you were feeling, and you did.

"gonna flirt with anymore men today or am i fucking you so good that you'll forget about them and only flirt with me huh?" he growls out, his hips pistolling into yours at an ungodly pace "who's making you feel this good huh? say it" he groans, you could tell he was close with how his hips stuttered.

"you- oh god" you moan out.

"louder" he growls, shoving your head down.

"you" you moan out, this time slightly louder.

"louder" he growls again, speeding up his movements, you felt the knot grow in your stomach before it snapped.

"you, sir!" you scream out as you cum harder than you have in your entire life.

your juices squirted all over his cock as you clenched around him. he came not long after, painting your walls white.

he let out a long groan as he pulled out of you, creating a squelching sound in your pussy. you whimpered out as he grabbed your waist and pulled you up into his arms.

he held you there for a while, occasionally kissing the top of your head, rubbing soft circles into your back. you had your head on his chest, that was the only place you could reach with his height.

"we need to get back to work" you say softly, looking up at him.

"you go home, send me your adress and i'll finish what we started when i'm done here" he smirks, you look up at him, batting your eyelashes.

"okay, yeah" you say with a smile.

"yeah...?" he says, looking at you expectantly.

"yes, sir" you say innocently, he smiles at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead and letting you get dressed.

later on, you walked out of the conference room, you did try to make your make up look more presentable, but it didn't really work out that well. you went straight home before sending mingyu your adress and a sneaky little picture of you, before you climbed in the shower.

a few hours later, you heard a knock at the door, as to which you opened it to see mingyu. it didn't take long for him to attatch his lips to yours, taking a stride forward into your house and shutting the door.

he pinned you to the door and grabbed your thigh, hitching it up to sit around his waist. you moan into his mouth as you feel his already hardeed dick poke your stomach.

"fuck, you're perfect" he says, looking into your eyes deeply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear again. he grabs your hips and guides you over to the sofa and lies you down "god you're gonna get every bit of me tonight" he whispers before removong his pants and pumping his dick before moving your night-dress up your body to your waist.

"no panties? fuck, you are a slut" he says before shoving his dick inside of you again, not wasting any time before he was pumping in and out of you again.

your skin slapped together with his. each stroke of his cock hitting that spongy spot inside of you making the knot in your stomach tighten.

you grabbed at his arm, signalling you were close. he didn't stop and instead went faster. you got closer and closer until the knot snapped and you were thrown over the edge, screaming as you creamed his cock.

he finished too, and as you tried to get out from underneath him, but he pulled you back under him.

"where do you think you're going? i haven't even started honey"