#earlier today i was thinking about the idea of them being fine just having casual sex | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

archangelmacaron · 2 years

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NTMF College AU Chapter 6

How am I still doing daily updates? This is wild... I just live for the small burst of serotonin from getting a heart notification, I suppose <3 I believe I'm about three chapters ahead, although I have the full story outlined (so pro!) so depending on the next few days I might need to slow on the updates a bit but... I don't wanna LOL Sending another thanks for reading and commenting and even just hitting that heart button <3

“Thankfully, Jillian is satisfied that I am fine, and not planning to do anything rash, and she has left for work early today because of errands,” Noel said with relief as she closed the bedroom door behind her. “It is barely past nine am, though. We still have several hours before sunset.”

“Do you have anywhere else you can go in the meantime?” The devil on her bed was a bit too casually posed now, sitting with his feet resting on a pile of textbooks. He had a hand on his face as if he was thinking.

“Um, not particularly... certainly not anywhere I can think of that I would be able to go to while also concealing you.” She peered out her window at the sunny day outside, wondering where she was going to sit. The only option seemed to be back on the small bed right beside him, and he was definitely taking up more of it than he had been when she'd awoken.

He closed an eye, seeming to make a slightly irritated face. “You have no projected return time for Spica, correct?”

“No. Unfortunately she is a bit unpredictable, as evidenced by her unexpected murder scheme.” Noel finally sat on the bed next to the devil, the cheap mattress sinking her closer to him. It was her room, after all, he could move if he was uncomfortable. “When she spends the night at Ribellio's she usually doesn't come back until maybe three or four in the afternoon, but sometimes she stays up all night and comes back here in the morning. If she was hoping that she killed me last night, she'll likely head back earlier to see the results, right?”

He nodded. Noel tapped her own chin thoughtfully. “Spica doesn't seem to be good at predicting our behavior, however—mine and Jillian's, I mean, I have no idea what her experience with devils is, or if you'd somehow met before.”

He shook his head. “Unless she is using a different name, we have not. Do you perhaps have a photo?”

“Ah, yes—one moment.” Noel looked around, then grabbed her smartphone from the bedside table. The battery was low, it seemed she had been too drunk to plug it in the previous night. She opened a social media app and typed in Spica's username, pulling up her account. She handed the phone to him, and he looked at her oddly.

“What would you like me to do with this?”

“Eh? That's her account. Scroll for a bit, she posts a lot of food and artsy photos, but she definitely has some selfies in there.” “Scroll?” He looked utterly bewildered.

Perhaps he is not good with technology—I wonder if all devils are like that?

“Use your thumb to touch the screen and drag it upwards.”

“Like this?” He pressed it a bit too hard, and enlarged a photo of some graffiti. Noel shook her head, reaching over.

“No, lightly. Like this.” She moved closer to him to touch the phone in his hands. She backed out of the image and demonstrated the action, then looked up to see if he'd understood—only to realize she was now practically right beneath him, if he leaned forward just a little his pointed face would be able to touch her head. She glanced down to realize that her prosthetic leg was pressed up against his, she hadn't been able to feel it. She turned away in a hurry, hoping he didn't notice.

Ah, I feel like my face is on fire again! It's just—I have not been close to males very often, and certainly not on my own bed! My parents would be fainting in shock if they saw me here now, with not just a male, but a devil next to me!

Perhaps it would serve them right for being so controlling, even now that I am an adult.

She stifled a small giggle at the thought of her parents fainting on top of each other in horror at the sight of her next to the devil. He didn't notice, having finally gotten the hang of scrolling. He paused on an image of Spica making a rude gesture at the camera with a large smile.

“You... make it bigger by tapping it, correct?”

“Ah, yes! You've got the hang of it. That's her.”

He peered at the image for several seconds, then shook his head, handing back the phone. He didn't seem to notice that he didn't have to reach very far to do so. “No, I don't recognize her.”

I'm going to have to trust that he is not lying on this. I seem to be putting a lot of trust in someone I just met—and a devil, no less!—but again I remind myself, if he had wanted to harm me, he certainly would have done so by now...

… wouldn't he?

She glanced over at him again, once again noting how much larger than her he was, emphasized again by being so close to him. Her head came up to about his chest. It would be awkward to move further away now, won't it? Would he be offended? Or is he already offended with me being right here? Ah, I don't know! I feel like the closer I am to him, the less I can think clearly. Is it fear—fear that I am refusing to consciously acknowledge—driving me mad?

She changed the subject in her mind, then verbally. “As I was saying a bit ago, Spica doesn't seem to understand my or Jillian's behavior very well. She assumed Jillian would be spending the night at her—well, I suppose they aren't girlfriends yet, as this was their first outing... Ah, anyways, Jillian is not the type to go that far on a first date! So Spica probably thinks—or hopes—that Jillian will discover my body this morning, and might be waiting to hear if she does before heading back here. That would further distance her from the crime, just in case it does get investigated.”

It would be so traumatic for Jillian to find me torn apart... I really have misjudged Spica. I thought she was simply quirky, rude, and annoying, but it seems she has a very cruel streak.

“Jillian also has one of these... mobile phones, correct? Can Spica contact her with that?”

Noel nodded. “I requested that Jillian simply ignore any texts from her today.”

“She simply agreed to such an odd request? You did not give her details, I would hope.” His eyes were narrowed at her.

She frowned. “Is that important? I trust Jillian completely.”

“I do not.” He glared down at her in a manner she found a bit aloof.

Her frown deepened. She was more than a bit sensitive about people saying anything negative about Jillian after how horrid her parents treated her friend. “You haven't even met her!” “And I do not intend to. I have doubts she'd be as casual as you appear to be when meeting a Great Devil.”

“Ah, that is true...” Jillian had been prone to panic attacks in the last few years, and seeing someone like him would certainly give her a large one. Noel shook her head. “It does not matter. I hope to have this mystery solved before the end of the weekend, and so your paths might not even cross.”

“Hmm.” She was beginning to grow a little annoyed by the non-committal noises he'd make—as if he was thinking everything she said was just slightly idiotic or doubtful. He is the one who chose to contract with me after all, for heavens knows what terms... he doesn't need to be so snooty about it! He could have just gone home!

If he had, however, she would have been dealing with this situation alone—or worse, Jillian would insist on helping her, and she didn't like the idea of her timid friend in danger. She let out a sigh.

“The point you were making—you think I should stay hidden from Spica, correct?”

“Yes. Let's keep the fact that you're alive from her as long as we can. Once she learns you aren't dead, or maimed, she may try again, depending on what her true motives were and what her cohorts demand.”

“We can assume those cohorts are Burrows, Becker, and Lorenzi—possibly more. I will not trust any members of the faculty going forward, and must also consider that other students are involved. For example, Ribellio, Spica's boyfriend... I can't really see him wanting to harm anyone, but where Spica is concerned, his behavior is very unpredictable.” She gave the devil an awkward expression. “I do not mean to make unfounded accusations, but I suspect Spica may be abusing him.”

“If he was chosen by them to perform the ceremony, then he's at least part of their plan. It doesn't matter if he's being manipulated or forced to or not. He can't be trusted. You'll need to be just as wary of him as Spica.”

“I will be.” Noel frowned. “You said you couldn't go out in public with me, and that going out in public was alone was dangerous for me, so I am not certain where precisely you suggest we hide from her.”

He thought for a moment. “Does this building have any unused rooms, like an attic?”

“Yes, but the attic entrance is in Spica's room.”

“Could you get into it without her knowing?”

“She's extremely messy, I don't think it will be difficult. But do you really think we should hide up there all day?” Noel wasn't sure how she felt about that. What exactly would we do to pass the time?

A very unusual thought entered her mind, and she physically shook her head to chase it out. Once again, he didn't seem to notice her slightly strange behavior.

“Yes. We'll be able to hear her when Spica comes back and potentially gain a little insight into her motives by what she does next. It won't be that long before sunset.”

“If you say so,” Noel said with a grimace, carefully standing. “Um, I'll need to get dressed now.”

He nodded. “Do that.”

She waited. He didn't move, simply looking at her with sharp red eyes. She gave him an expectant look. He only blinked.

She let out a huff, shaking her head and gathering her clothing before heading into the small bathroom to change. He didn't seem to understand her annoyance. She thought she heard him mutter something as she closed the door, but she wasn't certain.

#fanfic

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looooooooomis · 3 years

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FINAL GIRL | FIVE

You were his final girl. And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t five | t h e c a b i n (part I)

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 5.6k (I’M SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY) warnings: s m u t (18 +!!!!!)

A/N: after 8 months of MIA, SHE’S BACK BABY!!! this is part 1 of 2 of our fav couple being at the cabin x next chapter will have soft moments I promise lmao

You should have been paying more attention.

If you’d been paying more attention, you wouldn’t have had five sets of eyes currently watching your every move, waiting for an answer you didn’t have. Why had you thought it was a good idea to stay up as late as you had packing your overnight bag for the cabin? If you had gone to bed at a reasonable hour, you wouldn’t have been as braindead as you currently were and, if you hadn’t been braindead, you wouldn’t have wound up in whatever ring of hell you were currently stuck in as your friends stared at you as though you’d grown a second head.

You pleaded with your tongue to say anything, pleaded for your brain to register a decent enough lie to make this uncomfortable silence end but nothing came out of your mouth. Only a pathetic hum and a gusto of forced laughter.

You wanted to die.

It should have been an easy enough answer to what was an even easier question. One that you’d practiced answering for the last two days and yet, as the moment for the lie came and went, you were left scrambling like a fucking moron.

You didn’t dare look at Billy as Sid curled into his side knowing if you managed to catch his coffee-coloured stare, you’d only be met with something between terror and amusement as you royally shit the bed. So, instead, you did the next best thing. You replayed the question over and over again in your head until you were driven mad.

‘Are you up for a movie this weekend?’

It was a simple enough question, one you’d managed to decline easily enough but, as Tatum frowned and asked the one question you were expecting to hear, your mind went blank.

‘Why? What are you doing?’

The answer you were supposed to say: I have to babysit my cousin in Santa Rosa all weekend. The answer they got? Silence. Pure, awkward as fuck, silence.

“Earth to Y/N,” Tatum laughed, brows furrowing. “Are you alive?”

“Sorry,” you huffed out a quiet laugh and shook your head, “I barely slept last night, I’m braindead.”

While it wasn’t a lie, you were still on edge. You’d think after months of sneaking around with the asshole sitting in front of you that you would have chilled out a little more but not today. Maybe it was the nerves of a full weekend away with Billy Loomis as his girlfriend hosted a fucking movie night sans her boyfriend and best friend – but something was making you stumble over what should have been second nature to you.

“You feeling okay?” Sid, the angel she was, asked with a small frown. Your stomach twisted in the familiar way it always did when your sweet friend showed concern. Concern which you most definitely didn’t deserve. “You seem…off.”

It would have been so easy to confess your dark little twisted affair with Billy right then and there. To just open your mouth and let the truth of everything you’d been doing behind her back play out. But you knew it would break her heart and, more than that, you were a fucking coward.

“I’m fine, Sid,” you smacked on a small smile and leaned into your locker. You had one more class until you were home free. Free of your friends’ inquiring eyes, free of Biology, free of Woodsboro. If you managed to get through this incredibly uncomfortable moment. “And I would if I could, trust me. I have to babysit my little cousin in Santa Rosa.” You feigned disappointment with a small frown. You could see Stu’s lips tug up in mild amusement out of the corner of your eye. “She’s nine, so if I don’t come back on Monday, know that she annoyed me to death.”

Randy scoffed and casually threw his arm around your neck. “Every day I’m thankful I don’t have any snot-nosed kids in my family. Losing my weekend to babysit? I’d rather rot.”

Despite your guilt, you managed a small smile as you looked across at him. “I think the kid would rather you rot, too. You’d be a terrible babysitter.”

“She’s right,” Tatum smirked, “you’d show the kid one of your weirdo movies where a girl with big tits is running helplessly away from her killer. It’d scar the kid for life.”

“Or,” Randy mused, “prepare them for the real world. Put some hair on their chest and all that shit.”

“Furthering my point, Meeks, you’d be a shit babysitter.” You laughed. “But, yeah, I’ll be suffering at the hands of a nine-year-old, so you guys have fun without me.”

“How about you, lover boy?” Tatum asked, looking across at Billy. “Will you be joining us this weekend?”

You should have averted your eyes. Should have done anything besides wait, with bated breath, to see what Billy would say. Slowly, those brown eyes tapered over towards you just briefly before looking at Tatum. With a casual shrug of his shoulders, Billy shook his head and leaned into Sid. “Can’t,” he merely said, “I’m going up north with my dad. He wants to get some of his affairs in order or something, I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “All I know is I was promised free beer if I helped him. So, I’m helping him.”

If Sid caught onto his lie, her face didn’t betray her once. And, as she looked up at her boyfriend with doting eyes, you couldn’t help but feel that pang of shame slice into your gut once again. She believed him. She always believed him. Believed you. Regardless of how good it felt to have Billy, that shame of knowing just who it was unwittingly hurting in the process never dissipated.

“You sure you guys won’t need help?” Sid asked, further digging that knife of shame into your chest. “Besides this movie, I’ve got nothing else going on this weekend.”

“Real nice,” Randy teased. “She’d rather watch Billy’s dad punch away at a fucking calculator then sit down with her nearest and dearest.”

Billy ignored Randy entirely as he glanced down at the brunette. “I’m sure,” he affirmed, giving her a quick squeeze. “Enjoy the movie night. I’ll be there for the next one.”

He lied so effortlessly, so casually, that it should have unnerved you. But it didn’t. Because for as good of a liar Billy Loomis was, you were right here with him. This dangerous little game the two of you were playing was becoming second nature to you and for as much as it pained you to see Sidney get lied to, you couldn’t help yourself.

You loved Billy. Billy loved you. Right person, wrong time. Only rather than wait like you knew you should have, Billy’s glow was much too enthralling to miss. You were both moths to each other’s’ flames and no amount of guilt or shame was strong enough to outweigh the otherworldly affliction the two of you had for one another.

The bell signifying your final class rung out, snapping you out of your brief reverie as you blinked and focused on pushing Randy off of you. “Want to drive me to the bus station?” You asked him. “I don’t want to drive all the way to Santa Rosa, so I bought a bus ticket.”

“Tonight?” Randy considered it briefly before shrugging. “Sure, I guess. I’ve got a shift tonight at seven, though. When’s your bus leave?”

“Six thirty,” you lied, mainly doing this so that should anyone drive by your house this weekend and see your car still neatly parked in your driveway, they wouldn’t bat an eye. “I owe you.”

“Yeah, you do,” Randy agreed. “And, lucky for you, I accept a lot of different payment options.” He wriggled his brows, earning a playful smack from you and an annoyed glare from Billy. Thankfully, Randy didn’t catch onto the latter. “Pick you up at six?”

You nodded. “Perfect.”

With your eyes flickering to Billy’s once more, you managed to shoot everyone a quick smile before disappearing down the hall towards Biology. Just how you’d managed to dance your way out of what could have been an incredibly awkward moment, you didn’t know. But as you felt that weighty stare of Billy’s on your back as you walked away, there was an air of excitement that swallowed you whole.

No matter how much guilt you felt, no matter how sick it made you to see Sidney get hurt, even if she didn’t quite know about just yet, there was a much larger part of you that couldn’t wait to get Billy alone.

Because for the first time in the seven months since you’d started this torrid little affair, you were finally getting Billy all to yourself. No prying eyes, no secret kisses, no having to hide every part of your relationship with the man. None of that.

This weekend, it was you and it was Billy.

And you couldn’t fucking wait.

»»-------------¤-------------««

Randy, being the superstar he was, had dropped you off at the station a little after six-fifteen and by six-thirty-two, just around the time the actual bus was leaving for Santa Rosa, you were scrambling into Billy’s car with a wild grin on your face.

Just how the pair of you had managed to pull it off, especially given your brain lapse earlier in the day, was beyond you. But, as Billy tore off down the main street leading to the freeway, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of freedom engulf you the farther and farther you got from town.

It was exhilarating.

And, as you glanced at Billy, who couldn’t have looked more like a movie star with his dark locks blowing with the wind cascading in through his open window, you couldn’t help but reach across the divide to gently squeeze his jean-clad thigh.

“Thank you,” you found yourself muttering and as those brown eyes met yours, you couldn’t help but grin. “For your stupid key proposal. In hindsight, it was very sweet.”

The dimple in Billy’s cheek deepened as his own grin grew. “Glad you let me steal you away?”

You loosened your seatbelt momentarily and leaned across to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Very glad.” You made a move to pull away but stopped when he gently grabbed your chin with the hand not holding the wheel. “What—”

The kiss, while dangerously stupid, was short and sweet but the emotion behind it, the genuine happiness that exuded out of Billy in those few seconds was palpable. “I really do fucking love you, you know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it,” you hummed and slinked back into your seat. When his large hand found your thigh, he gave it a firm squeeze that sent shockwaves throughout your whole body.

“Not going to say it back?” He teased, giving you a sidelong glance as he drew nearer to the freeway.

“I’d rather show it.” Rather than put your seatbelt back on, you shimmed in your seat and leaned into him as your fingers scraped along his thighs towards the button of his jeans. “Eyes on the road, Loomis.”

Easier said than done, Billy thought, torn between watching the road and watching you unzip his jeans. Raising his ass out of the seat just long enough to allow you to tug his pants down his thighs, the second Billy saw yours eyes light up as his now somewhat erect cock sprung free of his jeans, keeping his eyes on the road seemed impossible. But, the second he saw that pretty mouth of yours perk up in anticipation, it was game over. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

A low chuckle escaped your lips as you began to pump his length with your hand. “Focus on the road, Billy.”

“You say that like it’s easy.” Not being able to keep his hands off of you, he reached for your nipple and gave it a pinch through your shirt. “Take your shirt off, baby.”

“Shut up and drive.” You chided him, shimming in your seat so that you were on your knees leaning over the console. His cock was rock hard now and, as you ran your tongue alongside his length, from the base of it all the way up to coax your tongue along the precum that had gathered along his head, you felt him shiver beneath you.

“Fuck,” he hissed, tangling his fingers through your hair. You were too fucking good with that mouth of yours.

Still pumping the base of his cock with one hand, you swirled your tongue along the tip of his dick again before taking that perfectly girthy cock in your mouth. His grip tightened on your hair and your eyes watered as he pushed your head down to fully take the length of him inside of your mouth. He heard you gag on him but even as his grip eased up, you continued your pursuit of deepthroating him.

His breathing was shallow as he felt your hot mouth all over him. Between the sounds of your wet mouth taking him in and the occasional gag as you choked on his length, Billy was in heaven.

But having you this close as you fucked him with your mouth whilst still fully clothed was killing him. He needed to feel you. He wanted to feel your juices on his fingers and running down those perfect fucking thighs as he fingerfucked you. He wanted to hear you moan, feel you moan on his cock as he made you feel as good as you were making him feel.

He wanted all of you, needed all of you.

Trying his damnedest not to shut his eyes as your mouth brought him closer to the edge, he reached beneath you to work on your own zipper but when that proved to be impossible, a frustrated growl tore out of his lips. “Undo your pants.” He hissed through bared teeth.

You hummed against his dick which nearly sent him into the other land of traffic. “No,” you purred, “I want to make you feel good.”

With one hand on the wheel and the other now gliding up and down your back as you fucked him with your mouth, Billy couldn’t help but buck into your mouth as you began to massage his balls. He was going to bust and soon if he wasn’t careful.

You were too fucking good and he was too fucking in love with you not to get lost in the way you made him feel.

“Touch yourself, at least,” he breathed out, desperate to see that pretty cunt. “Please, baby.”

Not granting him the satisfaction, you simply dug your nails into his thighs and moaned onto his cock and the sensation of it alone was almost enough to make him come down your throat. It seemed to slither around his cock, making him twitch and buck into your mouth.

But it was the second you moaned out his name as you swirled your wet mouth along the head of his dick one final time, swallowing back his precum with a contented hum, that Billy blew his loud inside of your mouth.

For a good five seconds, he didn’t care if he crashed the goddamn car as he watched you swallow his seed. He was bucking into your mouth, his breathing was ragged, as you guzzled him back and, as you finally released his cock with a pop, Billy almost lost it.

With a devilish grin, you simply wiped a finger along the edge of your lips and leaned back into your seat with a satisfied glimmer in your eyes. You knew you’d be in for it once he got his hands on you at the cabin, but for now, as you watched him lamely try and pull his jeans up his body to cover his slowly softening cock, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s the matter, Billy?” You teased, fastening your seatbelt back up. “You look a little rattled.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he simpered, not bothering with the zipper or button of his jeans. Instead, he reached across the divide and grabbed for your hand as he ghosted his lips across your knuckles. “Just wait until we get to the cabin.”

With your suspicions confirmed, you couldn’t help but beam across at him as you drove further and further away from Woodsboro. That was definitely a threat and good god were you excited for its execution.

»»-------------¤-------------««

By the time you’d pulled into the Loomis family cabin, it was pitch black outside.

The moon was too high in the sky and only a sliver of its light poked through the tall pine trees that surrounded the small house but, even with the low light surrounding you, the shadows that danced along the lake was enough to bring out a small smile as you quietly made your way out of the car. You didn’t need full sun to see the beauty surrounding you and the smell of the fresh air mixed with the spice of pine made any ounce of nerves filter out of you.

You were happy.

Unreservedly so.

Glancing across the roof towards Billy, he seemed almost distracted as he looked around at the familiar surroundings. You couldn’t quite tell if he was feeling as happy as you were in those brief moments, but you couldn’t quite blame him for that. The cabin held a lot of memories within it, many of which you knew included his mother. Where you felt freed and excited, you could tell the weight of his current whereabouts was heavy on his shoulders.

“Hey,” you muttered, slicing into the quietude around you. Walking around the front of the car, those brown eyes found yours as you circled your arms around his middle. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he assured, but his voice was low and distant. All the same, however, his strong arms enveloped you as he kissed your hairline. “Lost in a memory, I guess.”

You nodded into the crook of his neck but said nothing. He needed time to decompress, to familiarize himself with a house he hadn’t been in since his mother left. So, you’d give him that time.

For what must have been minutes, the two of you simply stood at the helm of porch holding onto one another. It wasn’t until Billy placed another quick kiss to your forehead that you felt his arms slowly fall only to grasp your hand in his own. “Come on,” he hummed. His grip on your hand was firm as he walked up the steps leading to the wrap around porch and as he stuck the key inside of the lock and opened the front door, the smell of cedar surrounded you.

The cabin was gorgeous. Wooden slats covered every square inch of the small house and a small fireplace sat at the front of the house with a worn-in couch and chair facing it. It was obvious nobody had come to visit for quite some time judging by the dust lining most of the countertops and shelving units, but you didn’t care.

To you, it was perfect.

Your own little oasis with the boy you loved without any sort of outside interruption.

You released his hand to take a brief look around the small living space but you could feel his eyes on you with every step you took. You knew he was looking to get even with you after your little stunt in the car, but you also knew that he hadn’t quite been expecting the swell of emotions to hit him upon driving up to the cabin. So, you continued to wander around the cabin to both grant him the space he may or may not have needed and, simply, to snoop around.

There were family pictures lining the tables and one in particular made you smile as you caught sight of a young Billy swinging from a tire swing. With a quiet laugh, you picked the frame up and surveyed it with a fond smile on your lips. “Cute,” you remarked, looking across to catch his stare. “A little model, eh?”

Billy watched you carefully place the frame down on the table before continuing on with your self-guided tour. No matter how hard he tried, regardless of the bittersweet memories swirling around inside of his brain, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Not that he ever really could, but there was an ease rolling off of you tonight, coming off of you in waves, that drew him in.

“I’ve been thinking about this all week, you know that?” He remarked, leaning against the back of the couch as he watched you pick up another picture frame. “Just me and you. Out here alone in the woods for an entire weekend.”

“Sounds like a scary movie when you put it that way,” you goaded with a wink. “Or a really niche porno.”

“Why not a bit of both?” His molasses coloured eyes glimmered mischievously as you walked up to him and stepped between his legs. The second you were close, he pulled you flush against his chest and kissed the tip of your nose as he pushed your hair back and away from your face. “Both could be fun.”

You grinned. “I’m down for anything,” you shrugged. “So long as you promise to take me on an actual date tomorrow. We’re not just fucking like bunnies inside of the cabin all weekend.”

“Heaven forbid,” he leaned in and gave you a slow, torturous kiss.

“I’m serious, Billy,” you moaned.

Pulling away from your mouth, Billy nudged his nose against yours and nodded. “The entire population in Bumfuck, California will know you’re my girl by the end of the weekend,” he avowed, skimming his hands down to your ass to give it a firm squeeze. “I promise.”

“Oh, yeah?” You hummed, kissing him again.

His calloused hands slipped beneath your shirt and scraped up your side. “Yeah.” Digging his hips into yours, he gave you one last kiss before nodding towards the bedroom. “Take your clothes off.”

You giggled as he slapped your ass to steer you down the narrow hallway. “And if I don’t?”

“I’ll rip them off of you,” he simply said, “so either they remain in one piece or I ruin your outfit.”

You glanced down at your jeans and tank before frowning. You looked cute tonight and you’d be damned if the bastard ripped them. So, being the good girl you were, you held his stare and slowly slinked out of your clothes. His eyes seemed so much darker as he watched you strip and the small smirk he wore slowly fell into a hungry thin line as you then perched yourself on the edge of the bed, completely nude.

“You just going to stand there looking pretty or are you going to do something about this?” You slipped your fingers between your thighs and ran your fingers along your swollen clit. A low moan slipped out of your lips at the sensation. “I’m already so wet for you, Billy.”

Slowly, Billy stepped towards you and undid his belt. Leaning down, he kissed you, hard, and steered you backwards on the bed beneath you until your head reached the soft pillows. You could feel his cock straining against his jeans but rather than grant himself any sort of reprieve, you watched him gently grasp your hands and raise them above your head only to wrap his belt around your wrists.

In the blink of an eye, you were tied to the bedposts.

“Is this payback for the car blowie?” You laughed, looking up at your restrained wrists. “If it is, I can’t say I’m mad about it.”

“You wanted something between a horror movie and a niche porno, remember?” He hummed against your skin, placing sloppy kisses along the vein that ran along your neck as he pinched your nipple. “God, you’re fucking perfect. You know that?”

He bit down on your collarbone, kissing his way down your chest until his warm mouth wrapped around your nipple. You could feel his teeth slither along your breast as his tongue lapped expertly on the sensitive bud. You hissed, arching into his mouth as your wrists, on instinct, fought for freedom. “Hardly.”

His eyes met yours as he slowly released your nipple. You were in nothing, of course, but he was still fully clothed, and you hated him for it. You hungrily eyed the bulge in his jeans as he propped himself up on his arm, letting his other hand glide up your chest and neck until it cupped your cheek. His nose brushed against yours, nudging it up to allow his lips to hover just over yours. Close enough that you could almost taste them, but much too far away to satisfy the hunger you had for the man.

“I love you,” he whispered, thumb stroking the apple of your cheek as his warm, brown eyes swallowed you up. “You know that, right?”

“Yes,” you swallowed hard and tilted your head up just enough to finally catch his lips. But, just as quickly as it happened, the man pulled away and let his hand begin to roam down your body. His mouth was at your ear now, nibbling at your earlobe as his hot breath slithered against your neck. You shivered. “I love you, too.”

His voice was gruff in your ear. “I’d kill for you,” his hand continued its journey down your throat, brushing past your nipple, down the length of your stomach until reaching the small smattering of hair along your mound. He was careful to keep his hands from dipping any lower, tormenting you as best to his ability, which just about killed you, if you were being honest. “You know that?”

Bucking your hips up, you nearly growled at the lack of attention you were receiving. You were soaked and touch-starved for him. His fingers, his mouth, the erection currently poking into your thigh, anything. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” you managed a quiet laugh. “But I appreciate it.”

His teeth bit down on your neck again. “But, I would. I’d do anything for you, sweetheart.”

His hand slipped further down to your sopping cunt and as he slowly slipped his fingers through your wet folds, the moan he got in return nearly killed him. “Billy,” you whispered desperately. It felt as though you were going to die if you didn’t feel him inside of you. “Please.”

His lips hovered over yours and on instinct, you caught his bottom lip between your teeth and bucked your hips against his hand. He snarled as you bit down on his lip but as the metallic taste of blood met his tongue, it was as though Billy was transcending. His pace on your clit quickened but it was still too slow for you and he knew it. He was torturing you, killing you, and he was enjoying every second of it. Struggling against the belt, your struggle was all for naught as it didn’t so much as move an inch.

“You’d love me, no matter what, right?” He asked, slipping one of his fingers inside of you as he kissed his way down to your chest. Lapping at your nipple, Billy was gentle at first before biting down hard enough to draw blood. Tit for Tat.

“Yes,” you moaned. Your entire body was on fire as his fingers brought you closer to the edge. “But I’d love you even more if you fucked me. You’re killing me, Loomis.”

Licking up the small trail of blood off of your tits, Billy hummed against your nipple and added another finger inside of your pussy. He’d fuck you soon but right now, he needed to feel your entire body light up the way it always had when he drove you into that fit of madness. You were a woman unhinged in the bedroom, he knew as much, and he knew exactly how to get that animal inside of you out.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he admired, reaching his hand up to coat your tit in your own slick. When it was sufficiently wet, he licked your juices off of your breast and growled. God, you tasted so fucking good. “You’re my girl, Y/N, you’re always going to be my girl, right?”

You looked up at him as those words fell from his lips. His brown hair hung down his forehead, his neck red from the strain of having to watch you writhe beneath him without doing a damned thing about it. But what struck you was the look of vulnerability in those brown eyes. That longing, far-away look as his eyes searched yours.

He wanted nothing more than to hear you say that you wanted him. Needed him. Just as much as he needed you.

“Always,” the answer tumbled out of your lips before you so much as thought twice. “I’m your girl, Billy.”

His mouth caught yours in a bruising kiss. Finally, his pace quickened inside of you as met your throbbing core with his dept fingers. With his thumb circling your clit, he dipped two fingers inside of you and grinned against your mouth as you let out a low, desperate moan.

It happened so fast after that. One moment, you were the one tied up on the bed and the next, he’d released you, stripped himself naked, and managed to flip you over so that you were the one on top of him, straddling his waist. Pulling away from you mouth, Billy’s eyes darkened as he saw that familiar glimmer in your eyes. That animalistic side of you was out in full force now.

“Get up here.” He demanded.

You smirked and leaned across him so that your lips hovered over his. “Why would I want to do that?”

He leaned up, the veins in his neck swelled against his neck as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth. “Get. Up. Here.”

Releasing your lip, Billy watched you smirk and crawl up the remainder of his body until your pussy was less than an inch away from his mouth. Grabbing onto the metal of the headboard you’d just been tied up to, you gasped as Billy’s tongue slid into your folds. Finding your clit instantly, you moaned and allowed your eyes to fall shut as you reached down to play with your hardened nipples.

Fuck, what Billy could do with his mouth should have been illegal.

He sucked and lapped at your clit as you rocked back and forth against his mouth. His fingers dug into your hips, so much so that you knew there would be bruises in the morning but, blinded by the pleasure between your thighs, you couldn’t care less.

The moans that were coming out of you were raw and guttural and, as you played with your own tits, envisioning his hands being the ones to squeeze and nip on the swollen buds of your nipples, you saw stars.

“Fuck,” you moaned out, “Billy, baby, fuck.”

He pulled your hips further down so that you were sitting on his face. Not just hovering but sitting on that perfect mouth of his as he held you in place. You knew it must have been hard for him to breathe but he was adamant and as his tongue continued its assault on your throbbing cunt, you came devastatingly hard and incredibly loud.

Stars danced behind your eyes as you continued to ride out your orgasm. When you couldn’t take another second of Billy’s skilled tongue, you climbed off of him only to feel his large hands take hold of your hips again.

Swinging you around so that you were on your back and he was the one hovering over you, Billy wasted no time in slipping his rock-hard erection into your soaking pussy.

He was thrusting hard and the sounds of your juices squelching with every thrust of his cock would have been off-putting if it hadn’t been for the raw, primal need coursing off of the pair of you in waves. He was kissing your lips and biting them and suckling your neck as he continued to rail into you with all of passion in the world. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen him this riled up and you had to admit it was inherently sexy seeing him so affected by you.

Not surprising in the least, it didn’t take him long to come. You’d riled him up to the point of no return in the car and, as you felt him come inside of you, you all but laughed when he dramatically crashed on the bed beside you.

Sweat glistened over every inch of body and the sheen of your juices was still on his lips as he kissed you. This kiss was slow, methodical. Sweet. And you felt yourself fall even harder for the man as he broke the kiss and gently brushed your hair away from your now damp forehead.

Wrapping one arm around your chest, Billy held you against him as he propped himself against the headboard. You were both naked and sweating and while a shower was something you both definitely needed, neither of you found yourselves all too willing to move out of the other’s embrace.

“Is it hard being back here?” You asked, listening to his heart beating in his chest.

“For a second, maybe,” he admitted, soothing your hair down. “Not now.”

“What’s changed?” You asked with a small smile. “The sex was that good, huh?”

A quiet chuckle shook his chest as he kissed the top of your head. “I think horror meets niche porn is my new favourite genre.”

Kissing his naked chest, you grinned into his body. “Same.”

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miyacreampie · 3 years

Text

Lenny sensei's night class has begun!~♡

“Senpai~♡”

synopsis 💭;; Tanaka gets jealous bc some bitch talking to his man.

note 🖋️;; IT TOOK A WHOLE FUCKIN WEEK TO WRITE THIS. WHY DOES WORK ALWAYS PREVENT ME FROM DOING THE THINGS I LIKE? WHAT THE ACTUAL FU- by the way, ‘Isayama Misaki’ is based off of some asswipe I used to know- also, I ran out of ideas at the end, so it kinda cuts of lf at the good part. I apologize to the anon that requested this.

Requested by anon ♡

Male pronouns used

Tanaka wasn't a jealous man. Or at least he'd like to think so.

(Y/n) was pretty popular around campus, so it wasn't a surprise to see a few fangirls here or there. It kinda reminded him of Oikawa—except (Y/n) didn't exactly pay his fangirls any attention. (And he didn't have an ass as flat as printer paper.) But did that stop them from trying to get into his pants? No.

In all honesty, Ryu felt lucky that he had someone like (Y/n) as a boyfriend, although he didn't like the fangirls—who paid him no mind whenever they were together. It annoyed him that they kept surrounding (Y/n) who clearly wanted nothing to do with them, begging him for dates, one night stands, anything.

To say that Tanaka was mildly uncomfortable was an understatement.

🌇🌇

Today was a bit different. Instead of a crowd of women rushing towards (Y/n), it was just one—; Misaki Isayama. The woman (almost) every guy considered perfect. This was...manageable, but what did she want? Well—at least it was only one girl. He had only woken up a little over an hour ago, and wasn't exactly ready for his simps just yet.

“(L/n)-chan, can you help me study for the science exam that's coming up?”

“Just because you're my upperclassman, doesn't mean you can call me that.” (Y/n) said quietly, rubbing his eyes, then yawning. “I'm on my way to the lecture hall though, so maybe after that? I should be fully awake by then..”

Misaki smiled and nodded her head. “It's a date!”

“No. No it's not.”

🏙️🏙️

Tanaka let (Y/n) lean on him during the lecture. That turned into one sided cuddling from the sleepy man. Ryu thought it was cute how (Y/n) always clung to him when he was sleepy. He was a little sad when (Y/n) fully awoke, and let him go, but it was for the best.

“Oh, Ryu-san. I'm tutoring the rumored ‘perfect woman’, and it's gonna be awkward with just the two of us, so can y—”

“You headin to the library? I was on my way there anyway. I'll join ya.”

The (h/c) haired man nodded, and they both walked all the way to the other side of the schoolyard to the library building. Tanaka even held (Y/n)'s hand to flex on the girls they passed by. Some of the girls were noticeably annoyed or a little angry, which pleased him.

When they finally arrived, Misaki was standing by the door. Upon seeing Ryu, she scowled. But it was only for a second.

“Ah, (L/n)-kun..who's this?”

(Y/n) smiled, oblivious to Misaki and Tanaka glaring at each other. Needless to say, the intense atmosphere went right over his head. “This is my boyfriend..Tanaka. He'll be joining us if that's okay.”

“‘Perfect woman’ my ass..the only ‘perfect woman’ I know is Kiyoko-san.” Tanaka mumbled under his breath. (Y/n) may not have known, but Misaki and Tanaka were always competitive with each other. Other times he wouldn't have cared, but now that (Y/n) is what he's fighting for, he wasn't gonna back down.

“Oh, it's fine.” Misaki said through gritted teeth.

🏙️🏙️

Isayama and Tanaka were left sitting at a table alone, while (Y/n) searched for the science books. They sat in complete silence, but it was almost as if you could hear their thoughts—mentally arguing with one another.

(Y/n) returned with three books, seating himself between Isayama and Ryu. “Okay! Let's get started!”

***

As (Y/n) went on explaining the laws of physics (because Tetsurou used to tutor him), Misaki and Tanaka continued their epic staring battle. The battle ended once they noticed that (Y/n) had stopped talking. He was chewing his tongue in thought, trying to figure out how to pronounce a word.

Misaki didn't notice, but (Y/n) had gone from physics, to microbiology. In less than five minutes.

“Something wrong?”

“How do you say this word again..?” The (e/c) eyed man pointed to a bolded word in the textbook, leaning back a bit so the other two could see.

A suffocating silence reigned over the three of them, but only for about three seconds.

Isayama squinted a bit before she spoke. “Endothelial?”

“Oh yeah. Thanks, senpai.”

Isayama smiled smugly at Ryuunosuke. The said man had a visible tick mark (💢) on the side of his head, symbolizing his annoyance. Tanaka only wanted (Y/n) to call him ‘senpai’—even if they were the same age (if not, then (Y/n) might be older). It made him feel like he was a dependable upperclassman, maybe even a bit turned on in certain situations. But hearing (Y/n) call someone else senpai..made him a little sad.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating. As Tanaka reached into his pocket to get his phone, he caught (Y/n) putting his own phone in his jacket pocket. Tanaka turned on his phone to see a message from (Y/n) in his recent notifications.

Pretty boy💖: Go to the bathroom. I'll join you later.

Although he was a bit confused, he got up from his chair. “‘M gonna go take a leak.” Ryu said as he started to make his way towards the men's restroom.

Almost five minutes pass before (Y/n) goes into the bathroom after Tanaka, telling Misaki that he was checking on him. As soon as (Y/n) had passed the first bathroom stall, he was yanked into the second one, the door locking almost immediately after it shut behind him. He wasn't given any time to react before he felt a familiar pair of soft lips violently smash against his own. (Not violent enough to make his mouth bleed or anything. Chill.)

A heated battle for dominance arose between the two, (Y/n) quickly taking the lead as he gently bit Ryu's lip.

They didn't want this to end, but eventually Tanaka had to break the kiss because he couldn't breathe. He stood there, breathless in his boyfriend's arms, not wanting (Y/n) to let go.

“Ryuunosuke..” Tanaka flinched upon his first name being said—even though (Y/n) said it many times before. His reaction brought a smile to (Y/n)'s face. “I love you~..” He said, drawing out the three words in a sing-song voice.

Ryu felt his legs getting weak, and held onto (Y/n) for dear life. (Somewhat out of fear that he might fall.) He wasn't actually feeling like this because of three words...right? “Babe..am I supposed to be kinda horny right now?” It was a bit of a strange question, but hey, it never hurts to ask.

(Y/n) chuckled. “Well, yeah. I might have to carry you out of here once we're done.” His warm smile from earlier didn't falter as he spoke.

‘How can he say something like that so casually? If I say something like that, I'd get d–’ Ryu's thoughts were snapped away when he felt his chest touch the stall divider and his pants being pulled down. He let out a soft moan as (Y/n) stroked him through his boxers.

🏙️

‘What the hell is taking them so long?!’ Isayama got up from where she sat, and went to the men's bathroom. There wasn't anyone around, so no one would see her going in. She opened the first stall's door. ‘If they ditched me, I swear to go–’

“W-Wait, (Y/n)!~ Haa!~♡”

“Geez senpai, you're so wet inside~..♡”

Misaki froze. She couldn't be sure that it was (Y/n) and Tanaka in there—but those were definitely Tanaka's pants hanging over the second stall's door. Now she felt more..curious than angry. Isayama slipped into the first stall, carefully and quietly closing the door behind her, and slowly locking it so it didn't make noise.

Ryu tried to keep his breathing steady as (Y/n) fucked him with his fingers—even though that did absolutely nothing to help his current situation. Hell, he couldn't even process words anymore. The only actual word he could say was his boyfriend's name. He eventually remembered how to speak after about two minutes of being finger-fucked.

He wanted to sound more demanding, but his voice came out more whiny than what he'd have liked it to. “Fuck me already..ya fuckin– Hng!~” It may have been that he couldn't process it, or that (Y/n) had moved at the speed of sound, but Tanaka wasn't able to register how fast (Y/n) pulled his fingers out, and shoved his cock into his still tight hole. He wanted to say something, but all that came out was a choked whine.

“You were saying?~♡” (Y/n) asked, though it sounded more like a demand than a question.

Tanaka wasn't given a chance to answer due to (Y/n) ruthlessly fucking the poor man senseless. His loud whines and moans echoed throughout the bathroom, much to (Y/n)'s pleasure. He wanted everyone to know that he was a taken man. He wanted everyone on campus to hear Ryuunosuke's pleasurable cries.

Hearing the two men fucking in the next stall turned Isayama on to no end. (Even though it was more of (Y/n)'s voice that made her wet.) But she resisted touching herself because she wouldn't be able to forgive herself if she masturbated to her rival getting fucked. (A kinda stupid reason, but okay.)

“Fu–fuck, (Y/n)!~ So good..it feels so good!~” Ryu babbled, the words almost incoherent as he attempted to push back against his boyfriend's cock. “More!~ Give me more!~♡” He begged, voice broken and choking on his own breath.

The (e/c) eyed man didn't say a word. As his senpai had politely asked of him, (Y/n) drove his cock so deep into Tanaka that the said man let out the loudest drawn out moan (Y/n) had ever heard from him. If it weren't for the cum spewing from the teary eyed man, (Y/n) would've thought he had hurt his lover. He wasn't entirely sure until he felt Ryu continue to push back against him, desperate for more friction.

“Aww..you're so cute when you act like a bitch in heat, senpai~..♡”

He only got a choked whine in response.

“I'm pretty close anyway..do you want it inside?~♡” (Y/n) asked, pulling the shaky man up to his chest. Again, only a whine. (Y/n) parted Ryu's lips with his fingers, those fingers soon being coated in saliva. “Use your words~..”

Finally, Tanaka spoke, despite his unintentional dry heaving. “Fuck me- please~..”

“As you wish~♡” (Y/n) almost whispered, gripping Tanaka's cock firmly, earning another broken moan from the said man. “You're the only person I'd fuck like this, you know that, right?” He said, as he rubbed the shorter man's stomach.

“Y-Yeah..that makes me happy~..”

Lmao this was like- 80% highschool drama (in a college setting), and the remaining 20% being me getting horny for no reason. Also, I'm aware this made no sense. None of the stuff I write makes sense. :)

The class session is now over!~♡

#tanaka x reader #tanaka x male reader #haikyuu x male reader #anime x male reader #m!reader #x male reader #top male reader #seme male reader #ryuunosuke x reader

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Casual

Ranboo x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None, unless talking about the future counts

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Following the arrival of the dreadful invitation to his cousin’s wedding Ranboo turns to the only cover-up he can think of to keep his still-single status hidden from his family.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so glad you sent your idea to me and I’m so glad you were my first official Ranboo request. I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to write it but I still hope you’ll come across it and read it! Love, Vy ❤

“Heyyy, so Y/N, I have a favor to ask you...um yeah, call me back, it’s awkward sending it via voicemail. Bye“

Huh - that’s the first thought that goes through my head when I listen to the voicemail left after a missed call from my best friend Ranboo. The favors he usually asks for consist of requesting assistance for his videos in which I also appear with a mask and sunglasses to keep the brand running. I genuinely have nothing against my face being shown but when I think about it, I’m honestly a bit glad people can’t identify me.

Anyways, back to the favors, Ranboo is no stranger to asking me for them but they’ve never been considered too awkward for a voicemail which is why I’m no slightly concerned. I’ve been swamped with work for school and studies for the graduation finals for the past two weeks and it seems like I’ll never get on top of it and I know Ranboo’s been in a similar situation too, so maybe he needs help with that? He’s not used to asking help for school stuff, he sometimes even has a hard time accepting it when I openly offer it to him.

I eventually sigh, decide that playing this guessing game will not get me anywhere and settle on giving him a call as I make my way home from the gym with my legs barely putting up with the task of carrying me around.

He picks up on the second ring.

“Hey! Wh-...“

“Would you pretend to be my girlfriend for my cousin’s wedding next weekend?!“

My legs take that opportunity to stop moving in the middle of the sidewalk which is luckily void of any people at the moment. It’s not my fault my body’s first reaction was to freeze up at the question that came flying at me like an out-of-control jet, almost as though he’s been dying to say it and get it over with.

“Um...run that by me again please, I think I misunderstood.“ I say, blinking blankly as though awoken from a fever dream. No, actually as though I’m IN a fever dream right now.

“Ok, now that the cat’s out of the bag, wanna grab some coffee and talk about it face-to-face. I need to see your facial expressions to gauge what response to expect.“ He says, the previous nervousness gone and his voice calm as regularly once again.

I’m this close to face-palming but I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and bring myself to utter a reply, “Our usual spot. Be there in ten minutes.”

* * *

“No freaking way.“ I shake my head, folding my arms over my chest as I lean back in my seat in the booth we picked when we arrived. Good thing I got an iced coffee cause even a hot one would’ve gone cold by now considering I haven’t yet taken the time to have even a sip of it. I’ve been too busy listening to the long and short of the explanation and begging speech Ranboo probably made last night to try and convince me to agree to this nonsense. “Dude, we’ve been friends since middle school-...“

“Exactly! Who else was I gonna ask?“ He cuts me off, pleading gaze meeting my unimpressed one.

I huff before continuing my previous statement, “We’ve been friends since middle school so you know my opinion on weddings.” I put extra emphasis on the word ‘opinion’, giving him the clear hint at the distaste I’ve expressed on the topic multiple times before.

“And you know we’re on the same page there but there’s no way I can avoid going unless someone kidnaps me.“ He too now gets in the same stance as me, his coffee forgotten too.

I can’t help but snort out a little laugh, “I’d be more than happy to kidnap you considering the other option is far less appealing to me.“

He, of course, rolls his eyes at me as though he didn’t offer to do the same thing so I could avoid an exam but anyways. “So you’re gonna choose to fake a kidnapping that has the potential of landing you in jail over coming to eat some great food and maybe even have some fun at a wedding with your best friend? I’m hurt.“ He says, frowning to cover up the smile that’s fighting its way onto his face.

Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes, “I’d be kidnapping you, dummy...” I cut myself off to let out a long sigh and calm down before I go off at him. His smirk isn’t helping me much with the task either. I’ve known Ranboo long enough to know he’ll eventually convince me and he’s known me long enough to know how to do that exactly. With that in mind, there’s really no point in getting so worked up and wasting my energy. And so, despite my own rationality, I cave. “Fine, but I’m not staying the whole wedding.“

His eyes immediately light up and almost makes me feel the compromise was worth it. Almost. I mean, when you’ve been best friends with someone for so long, seeing them happy is worth more to you than your own comfort sometimes.

And he knows it too. Which is exactly why he outstretches his hand for me to shake and says: “Just one dance and you’re free to go. Deal?”

I take his hand without hesitations. That’s a better offer than I could’ve ever imagined. “Damn straight it’s a deal.“

* * *

“How long until you kick the heels off?“ Ranboo asks, bringing me a non-alcoholic cocktail and sitting down next to me.

I take a sip and giggle, “You kidding? I already kicked them off and replaced them with flats. I need mobility if we dance. They also lower the risk of me severing off a toe of yours if I step on you on accident.”

He laughs, clinking his glass against mine before he gets a bit more serious, “By the way, thanks for handling my family’s attack so well. I know it might’ve been a bit much but you handled it like a pro. Still, I’m sorry on their behalf.”

I shake my head and wave my hand dismissively, “Don’t mention it. I’d probably react the same way if my brother or cousin brought a date to an important family event like this.” I instinctively turn to look in the direction of where the majority of his family has gathered around, chatting with guests, smiling brightly. It’s hard not to immediately take a liking towards these people. They’ve been a second family to me ever since Ranboo and I started hanging out so I completely understand why they were so shocked to see me in the role of his ‘girlfriend’.

“I’ll tell my parents the truth later, our extended family is the ones I wanted to fool to be perfectly honest.“ He looks around as do I and we catch more than a few pairs of eyes fixated on us that turn away when they realize they’ve been spotted, “Mission accomplished by the looks of it.“

I chuckle. I’ve never felt so comfortable at a wedding before. I don’t feel stressed nor anxious despite knowing that there’s quite the number of eyes on me and there are whispers going around about my ‘relationship’ with Ranboo. It’s oddly calming and relaxing to be surrounded by some familiar and some unfamiliar faces. This cocktail is pretty great too.

Speaking of which, if it had any alcohol in it I’d blame it for the decision I’m about to make but this one’s entirely on me: I tap Ranboo with one hand while taking out my phone with the other. “If we’re already the talk of the wedding, let’s give them something to talk about.“ I say as I put up my phone, pretending to be taking a selfie leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

When I pull away I can clearly see that he’s still processing what just happened. I can’t help but burst out in a fit of laughter as I reach out to wipe the lipstick stain I left on his cheek. He looks like a lost, clueless puppy with the question: ‘what on Earth just happened???’ replaying in his head and it’s so freaking cute!

Wait....what was that? Since when do I use the adjective cute to describe Ranboo? Didn’t I think he looks handsome in a suit earlier too? The hell is with me today?

Then it hits me - the feeling isn’t foreign. Like, I know I’ve felt it before but I never analyzed it or even bothered to acknowledge it. But now that I do, I’m afraid of what it might be.

“There!“ I say, desperately trying to push the thoughts away along with this little firework show in my stomach, “Now you have pinker cheeks. Well, cheek, singular.“

As if snapping out of his state of confusion, he returns to Earth with a smirk, “Kiss the other to even it?”

Alright, his blush might not be even but mine now is and it’s ten times as intense and very much apparent but I don’t let the feeling shine through anything else as I proceed to actually kiss his other cheek too, wiping the lipstick stain.

“Thanks. You’re the best.” And just like that, as though it’s no big deal, he kisses my forehead.

See, that’s the thing, it shouldn’t be a big deal! It’s never been! This is far from the first time I’ve kissed him on the cheek or the first time he’s given me a forehead kiss. These are regular occurrences after years of this lovely friendship we have. Why do they feel so different now?

Then, much to my relief, the music starts and the lights turn off leaving only one spotlight for the groom and bride to have their first dance. They look absolutely astonishing and I can certainly say I’ve never before stopped to think that about any newly weds of the weddings I’ve preciously been to. I don’t know if it has something to do with the company I have for this particular wedding or it’s maybe the fact that my mindset’s changed over the years without me realizing.

Then I automatically look at Ranboo who just so happens to be looking at me too and all I can say is: my mindset hasn’t changed.

A loud applause takes over when the couple finish their dance, officially opening the dancefloor for any other pairs who’d like to occupy it and I’m happy to see how many people are eager to rush up with their partner.

Ranboo gets up, putting the glass down and offers me his hand, “So, wanna dance? Don’t take this as a sign to leave though, we said one dance and you CAN leave, not SHOULD.” He says, giving me a warning look.

I roll my eyes and am about to give him some sass right back but he takes my hand and picks me up from my seat, leading me to the dancefloor. And I gotta admit maybe it’s a good thing he did. If he left it to me I would’ve probably said no to the dance and ran the hell away. Why? - Cause I’m freaking terrified of this new mindset and point of view and these intense emotions I never used to pay any mind to before in regards to my best friend.

Friends don’t feel that way about friends. Friends don’t look at friends that way. What’s happening to me?

When I gotta look him in the eyes like this, not for the first time might I add, I can finally understand how the friends-to-lovers trope works: it’s all meaningless until it starts to mean so much to you. It’s all platonic until it reminds you of a romantic movie moment. It ‘best friends’ until it’s ‘I wish we were more than that’. It’s all casual, until it’s not.

And, unfortunately, it’s irreversible.

Damn do I wish I ran away now...

#ranboo #ranboo fanfiction #ranboo x you #ranboo fanfic #ranboo fluff #dream smp #ranboo imagine #ranboo x y/n #ranboo x reader #fic #fanfic #fanficiton #fandom #fluff #friends to lovers #x reader #request #requests open #reader

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hops-hunny · 3 years

Text

Yo-yo’s Girl

Pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Black!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.6k

Request: N/A

Summary: Kyoya’s girlfriend is a lot a bit different than what they expected.

Warnings: None, could be read as a chubby or plus size reader!

A/N: This was self indulgent. I wrote this at like 2 AM and didn’t know until I woke up.

"Do you really think this is going to work?" Haruhi asked, already done with Tamaki's antics. She knew this was a bad idea but with the promise of some of her debt being removed, she couldn't find herself to do anything but go along with the blonde's crazy scheme.

"Why of course it will! When have you ever known of my plans to go wrong?" He responded, placing a hand over his heart as he swooned around dramatically. Hikaru and Kaoru exchanged looks with each other before looking back at Tamaki.

"Do you really want us to answer that?" They chimed, causing Tamaki to deflate with a defeated look. He looked over at Haruhi with puppy dog eyes, hoping the girl would agree with him. She offered him a sympathetic smile, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Listen senpai, don't get me wrong, sometimes your ideas are great but isn't this...a bit much? I mean why can't we just ask Kyoya about his love life? Do we really need this elaborate plan?" She asked, hoping he would budge. She looked down as Honey hung off her arm, Mori trailing behind him.

"Don't be silly, Haru-chan! Kyoya senpai is a private guy. He wouldn't trust us with anything like that." He said, climbing off the girl and back onto Mori. She let her eyes drift to Mori in hopes he'd help but he just let out a grunt of agreement. She sighed in defeat knowing she wasn't going to get through to them. How had they gotten into this dumb plan in the first place?

It all started when Tamaki overheard Kyoya on the phone with someone and from the tone in the raven haired boy's voice, he assumed it was a girl. More specifically, his girlfriend. However, any other time Tamaki didn't wanna intrude so to avoid doing so, he decided they would all follow him after school to see if that's where he was going!

As they saw a familiar head of black hair walk towards the school gates, they all began to walk behind him, attempting to be as quiet as possible. They had been following him for a few blocks, leading to a nice but unfamiliar part of town; however as he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, they all began to hide behind a bush but halted their motions when they heard him speak.

"Do you honestly think I didn't see any of you?" He questioned, not even turning around. They all stayed quiet in hopes that he would assume himself as crazy and continue to make his way down the street. But, as he turned around, parting the bushes, that idea flew out the window.

"Hey Kyoya! My dearest friend, I'd even go as far as to call you my bro-"

"Cut the bullshit Tamaki. Let me guess." He pushed his glasses up his nose before clearing his throat. "You thought that if you followed me you'd get to see my girlfriend, correct?" He asked, their wide eyes answering his question. However, where was the fun in that?

"That's exactly what we were doing! We wanna meet your girlfriend, Kyo-chan!" Honey piped up. The twins glared at him for his willingness to comply with Kyoya's questions so easily. Meanwhile Haruhi just sighed, slumping down even further.

"If you wanted to meet my girlfriend, you all could've just asked. I expected more from you, Haruhi. You should've known better." He chastised, watching the girl who's left eye was currently twitching. Without another word, Kyoya kept down his path towards the airport, leaving his companions to fight amongst each other.

----------------------

It was Friday of the same week and the rest of the hosts were beginning to grow hopeless about meeting Kyoya's girlfriend. Was she even real? Perhaps Tamaki's senses had been wrong and the conversation that played out earlier that week was simply meant to teach them a lesson. However, as the hosts were shutting things down for the day, slowly gathering there things to go home, Kyoya cleared his throat. They all turned to him, curious to what he had to say.

"Leaving so soon? And to think (Y/n) was coming to visit today. Oh well, I'll tell her you all said hi." Kyoya started, turning around to face the window. 3, 2,.. a chorus of hot fire questions started around him causing him to chuckle under his breath. "One at a time, I can't answer you all at once."

"Why doesn't (Y/n)-chan go to school with us?" Honey started, staring up at the tall boy. Kyoya turned to face the group, brushing off his blazer as he did so.

"She does during a portion of the year. Due to her parent's line of business, (Y/n) does one semester in the United States and one here in Japan. However, she is originally from America. Next question?"

"What do her parents do?" The twins said, angry with each other that they had asked the same question. "I thought my question was original.."

"I'm sure you've heard of the (L/n)'s before. They specialize in state of the art technology of all forms. Best selling in all of Japan. However, (Y/n) also has her own business under her parents that deals with unbreakable fine china, some of the best of it's kind but I'm afraid I'm biased." He smiled at the thought of his girlfriend, catching the other host off guard. Who was this girl who was able to make Kyoya smile?

"What's she like, senpai? I'm sure she must be special to catch your attention." Haruhi inquired. Kyoya felt his cheeks heat up as he thought of the many things he enjoyed about his girlfriend. He turned back to the window, looking out it once again.

"She makes me laugh and she's beautiful. Don't tell her that though. She always gets a big head when you do." He muttered, checking his watch for the time. She should've been here by now.

"She sounds absolutely radiant, Kyoya! When is she going to show?" Tamaki asked, sighing dreamily at the thought of his closest friend in love with a beautiful girl. Kyoya looked at the clock across the room before frowning slightly.

"She was supposed to.." he trailed off at the sound of his name being screamed continuously and the sound of loud footsteps growing closer. All of a sudden a blur of brown skin and thick thighs stormed in, jumping onto the man. Mori put Honey down, ready to fight if need be but stopped once he saw Kyoya wrap his arms around the girl, embracing her tightly.

"Darling! I'm sorry I'm late, I got hungry and stopped by that little bakery you showed me the other day!" The girl said, looking up at the boy who had an uncharacteristically warm smile. Everyone was even more shocked as he let out a laugh, stroking some of the girl's braids behind her back. She was a short girl, full of curves and rolls in all the right places. Her outfit was very casual compared to the things Kyoya wore on his free time. She had on a jean skirt and a form fitting striped shirt that made the undertones of her soft brown skin pop.

"I told you to let me know if you plan on going places beforehand. You know how sidetracked you get. You easily could've gotten lost." He lectured causing the girl to roll her eyes. She pouted, crossing her arms around her chest.

"Okay and? Clearly I didn't. Lay off 4 eyes. I'm here now aren't I? That's all that matters!" She jumped out of the boys arms finally before turning to face the rest of them. They all had the same question: 'How could such an energetic girl be with Kyoya?' "You're definitely Tamaki." She said, pointing to the blonde. He had a flattered look on as he began to say something but she cut him off. "You look just as annoying as Yo-yo said." She finished. Hikaru began to comfort their boss in the corner as Kaoru began to laugh.

"Yo-yo?" He choked out, laughing a bit more. Kyoya's face began to heat up more as he looked down at the short girl, a pissed expression on his face.

"(Y/n) I told you not to call me that in public." He said in an angry tone, looking away from the girl. She pouted some more, bringing a soft hand up to his face. As she stroked his cheek, hot tears began to form in the corner of her (e/c) eyes.

"I'm sorry, Kyoya! I forgot. You know me, I didn't mean to embarrass you in front of your friends." He leaned into the girl's touch, looking down at her sad expression. How could he ever stay mad at that? He sighed quickly, leaning down to place a kiss on her forehead. She squeaked, unused to him initiating any sort of physical affection in public.

"Forgive me darling, I hate to see you so sad. How about I take you to one of those," his face turned slightly green as he grimaced some, "Commoner malls that you adore so much. I'll buy you anything you want. Hm?" The girl instantly perked, throwing her pudgy arms around her lanky boyfriend. He tensed a bit before hugging her back warmly, glaring at the twins who looked like they may say something to ruin the sweet moment. Haruhi watched in awe, feeling even herself grow emotional at how clearly in love her senpai was.

"Really? Let's go Kyo! What are we waiting for?" (Y/n) asked as she grabbed her boyfriend's hand, beginning to drag him towards the door forcefully. Once they were out she quickly peaked her head back in looking at the others.

"Well? Are you coming?"

#kyoya x reader #kyoya #ohshc #kyoya ootori x reader #black reader #black!reader #poc reader #poc!reader #chubby reader #chubby!reader #plus size reader #kyoya x you #ohshc imagine #ohshc imagines #ohshc fic

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emwritesfootball · 3 years

Text

On The Wall | John Stones

Also you should write a piece about John coming into the pub where the reader works and hitting on her and making fun of her for having his picture on the wall and you can go from there 👀

Word Count: 1,612

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (Female receiving), fingering, drinking

A/N: an idea I pitched to @bluemoonstonesy who said I should write this myself. Enjoy x

- - -

“We’re closed,” you say automatically when you hear the little bell at the top of the door signal that someone’s come in. You’re wiping the sticky surface of the bar down, not paying attention to anything but making sure the wooden area is spotless for tomorrow.

“Oh, sorry, I must’ve missed the sign,” a familiar voice chuckles and you look up to find none other than John Stones in your family’s pub. John freaking Stones, whose picture happens to be on the wall of your family’s Manchester City-themed pub right next to Aguero and Grealish.

“I-” You don’t know what to say at first, speechless as you just stare at him. You let out a nervous chuckle, ducking your head to hide the embarrassment that you knew was plainly spelled out across your face.

“I can leave if you’d like,” he says when you still haven’t found your words.

“N-No,” you stutter, shaking your head rapidly. “It’s fine. What are you drinking?”

“Virgin of whatever’s your favourite,” he responds, giving you a saucy grin.

“No,” you reply, falling easily into your role behind the bar. “As your bartender, I can’t let you drink a virgin anything - footballer or not.”

John places his forearms on the bar, leaning forward. “And what if I’m an alcoholic?”

“I’d think the media would have let me know,” you retort, smirking.

“You got me there,” he chuckles, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’m out of excuses, and we just won earlier today-”

“You did, and you deserve a drink, so what’ll it be?” You don’t reply, mixing up your favourite cocktail and garnishing it, setting it down in front of him. “After the way you played today, this one is on the house.” You realize you actually hadn’t flipped the sign from OPEN to CLOSED, doing so as he sips on the drink. You can feel his eyes on you, watching as you finish your checklist of things to do to close the pub down for the evening.

“So, how’d you get this job?” John asks, making idle conversation as you continue to clean.

“My family owns the place, so I didn’t get much choice,” you shrug, starting to wipe down the tables. “Doesn’t matter, though - pay’s good even if the hours are shit, but at least I get the luxury of telling my bosses to fuck off without being fired.”

“Yeah, not many people get to say that, I suppose,” John said, wincing a little as the alcohol went down.

“Could have worse jobs than dealing with drunks, honestly. I could spend my days getting yelled at by drunks who think they know more than the refs while I get paid millions of pounds to kick a ball.” You shot him a wink to let him know you were kidding, your stomach dipping when you made him laugh.

“Fair enough. At least I don’t have a framed picture of myself where I- wait, nevermind. My picture’s everywhere at the Etihad.”

You walk back behind the bar, making him another drink - two mojitos this time. “Both of those aren’t for me, are they?”

“Only one of them is, unless you don’t wanna pay for your second drink.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” John laughs, shaking his head but motioning for the drink. “Give it to me.”

You hand him one, your fingers brushing his. Your breath hitches at the contact, your eyes meeting his, and you know he’s heard the sound.

“Who’s your favourite City player?” He asks, his voice barely a whisper.

You bite down on your bottom lip, flicking your gaze down at the bar before your eyes meet his again. “If I tell you it’s you, would you think I was lying because you’re the one in front of me right now?”

“Well, now that you’ve said it: yes,” he jokes, smiling. “But you’re so beautiful and sincere that I’m inclined to believe you.”

“Calling me beautiful to try to get out of paying for that second drink?” You tease in an attempt to ignore how fast your pulse is racing and how turned on by him you are.

“Maybe,” he smirks, reaching out and touching your face. You lean into his touch, his thumb brushing across your cheek in a way that makes you yearn for him to touch you in other places. “But it’s also true.”

“You shouldn’t press your luck, Stones.”

His eyes darken. “Call me John.”

“John.” You sound out the syllable, loving the way it feels coming out of your mouth. You’ve said his name a thousand times - screamed it when he’s scored, cried it when City’s lost, casually thrown it out to your friends or anyone when you’re talking about your team - but this feels different… intimate, even.

The pads of his fingers press into the sensitive skin on your neck and you let out an involuntary whimper. John swallows hard, his tongue peeking out to wet his bottom lip. “If I kiss you right now…”

“If you kiss me right now, I’ll end up begging you to fuck me on this bar,” you say, barely recognizing the words as the leave your mouth. You’re not usually this bold, but this man makes you do things you wouldn’t normally do, the least of which is beg him to fuck you in your family’s pub.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” John growls right before latching his lips onto yours. Your stomach presses painfully into the wood as you lean across the bar, matching him kiss for kiss.

“Wait,” you gasp, breaking the kiss as you pull back so you can walk around and stand in-between his legs, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Much better,” you smirk, leaning in to kiss him again.

“Wearing my kit, eh?” John murmurs between kisses, his hands sliding up your waist and underneath the material. “Sexy.”

The word travels out of his mouth and down your spine, your clit throbbing as it responds to his praise. He lifts his kit over your head, letting it fall to the floor. Your jeans are a little trickier and you kick off your shoes before wiggling out of them while he sheds his own shirt and joggers, toeing off his own trainers. For a moment you hate that your bra and panties don’t match, but you also weren’t expecting to get your brains fucked out by your favourite footballer tonight, so it’s definitely not going the way you’d planned.

“Let’s see how wet you are for me,” John rasps, his hand trailing up your thigh before settling between your legs, nimble fingers pushing your panties to the side to probe your slick folds. Your hands fly to his shoulders, a moan ripping from your throat as he slides a thick finger as deep as it’ll go inside your pussy, curling in to your g-spot just right when the heel of his palm grinds against your clit.

“Oh, God, John!” You cry out, a needy whimper leaving your mouth when he pulls out his finger, his eyes glued to yours as he licks his finger clean.

“You taste so good,” he praises, kissing you again so you can taste yourself off his lips.

“Please, John, just fuck me already,” you beg, reaching between the two of you to stroke his cock.

“How do you want it?” He asks, his eyes fluttering closed as you pump his shaft, your thumb brushing over the tip that’s now leaking precum. “I don’t have a condom so pullout will have to do.”

Your pussy clenches around nothing in anticipation, the thought of John fucking you raw and pulling out making you that much more turned on. “Pullout is fine - just fuck me already, John.” You pull yourself up so you’re sitting on the bar, spreading your legs so John can get the perfect view of your already-dripping pussy.

He lines his dick up with your entrance, letting out a groan as he slides the tip into you. You let him go slow so you can feel every inch of him, finally picking up the pace once he’s balls-deep inside you. Your legs are wrapped around his waist, your hands bracing yourself on the wood as he thrusts into you rhythmically, his fingers leaving marks on your hips.

You’re on the verge of an orgasm when John pulls out, pumping his dick a few times before spilling his seed on your stomach and letting out a groan. Without a second thought, you’re swiping it off and sticking your index finger in your mouth, tasting him like he’d tasted you earlier, making a big show of swirling your tongue around your finger.

“Did you cum?” He asks, and for a moment you think about lying to him, but you decide not to, shaking your head. “Lean back,” he orders before kissing up your inner thigh and putting his mouth on your pussy.

Your hands immediately tangle in his hair, grabbing the curls as he licks at your core. It doesn’t take long for you to cum around his tongue, his name on your lips as your orgasm races through you and you grind your pussy on his face.

His lips are shiny with your juices when he comes up, grinning at you before pulling you in for another kiss.

“When do you close next?” He asks a few minutes later as you’re both getting dressed.

“The same day as your next match,” you reply.

“Good,” is all he says, giving you a knowing smile before vanishing out the door, leaving you all alone with your thoughts as you begin wiping down the bar again to remove all the evidence of what you’ve just done.

#my writing: john stones #john stones smut #john stones x reader #john stones imagine #john stones imagines #john stones one shot #john stones oneshot

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ready-to-obeyme · 4 years

Text

[OM!] Demon Brothers panic-buy MC a last-minute birthday present

Prompt: You drop the fact that your birthday is in a few days, much to the demon brothers’ surprise. They don’t have a gift for you prepared-- panic ensues.

Note: gender neutral; :) i just like seeing them get flustered

Lucifer

“Ah, your birthday? Of course I knew. You thought I didn’t?”

He didn’t know-- not until you told him just then a mere DAYS before your birthday

Internally panicking but he will NOT have you know that he missed this rather important detail

Casually asks you in the next few days if you’re free to go out with him because “he wants to spend more time with you--” which he DOES but he has ulterior motives such as hoping you’d point out something you like when you go out so he can gift it to you

Will watch your movement and gestures like a hawk trying to gauge what sort of present you would want from him

Money isn’t really a concern of him; he just wants to make sure that his gift is something you actually want and is thoughtful enough

If he’s unlucky and you are in fact NOT free in the few days leading up to your birthday, he paces a lot in his room, trying to remember if there was something you mentioned from a past conversation because he has too much pride asking you what you would want for your birthday

...but eventually caves in and asks his other brothers (probably Asmo or Beel) what they think you would like because his love for you >>> his pride

He has seared your birthdate into his mind now because he’d rather not have a repeat of whatever happened this year

Mammon

“Your birthday? Hahaha of COURSE I knew your birthday was in a few days… IN A FEW DAYS--?!”

He blurts this out but you tell him it’s fine but he won’t have it

He’ll try to cover it up, pretending he knew, but he sucks at lying and the fact he suspiciously walks out of your room to find a quick job listing to get enough money for a present is telling enough

First ideas most likely include rummaging in his room for anything valuable or shiny that you could possibly want

Considers giving you his car for a second in his panic but realizes you’d probably freak out at the extremely extravagant present

Will definitely try to snoop in his brothers’ rooms in search of things and collectively tells them (and makes them panic) about your birthday as well

Eventually sucks it up and works at Hell’s Kitchen, literally diving underneath counters and tables to avoid having you see him working

Terrible at making excuses to you about where he is so you probably know he’s working, and he feels bad that he has to avoid hanging out with you-- but he loves you and this is for you, after all, so he bears it

Buys you something he finds value in and thinks would like nice if you wore it; after all, the Avatar of Greed wants the best he can afford for you

Leviathan

You tell him your birthday is coming up soon while he’s playing something and the only thing he says first is “oh nice”

Then he realizes

“YOUR BIRTHDAY IS WHEN??”

He died on the screen, which you point out, but his eyes are wide and a little pleading

Asks you directly what you want for your birthday and he will literally search it up for you on Akuzon right there and then (it’s wild seeing online shopping on several screens)

“How about this one? Wait, no-- that’s terrible quality and the reviews are horrible; let’s check out this one.”

Makes you tell him everything you could have possibly wanted in the past few months so he can compile a list of things he can search up and select from

If he’s manic for the next few days, know that he hasn’t been gaming (has not since you dropped this very important detail) but has been vigorously searching up all the online shopping sites he can find to get the things you wanted down to its detail and quality

Definitely enlists his online friends for recommendations, but regardless will buy you matching gaming headset on top of whatever you wanted because he wants you to know you’re his Player 2, even if you don’t game

All the presents come on the same day (Mammon grumbles that it’s blocking the walkway) and he shoos you away as he carts everything up to his room to wrap it

Wishes he had more time to make you a present instead of buying something but hey there’s always next year

Satan

“O-Oh. Your birthday is in a few days, huh?”

Satan stares at you for a few moments too long as if he wants to say something but decides against it and gives you a benign conversation starter like “You must be excited for another year done”

Inwardly, he’s trying to calculate in his head when he has time to research for things you want, if going on a cat cafe date is too indulgent to be a gift to you, if he should just ask you what you want for a present-- all while holding a conversation with you

Not a great conversation, mind you-- you can tell he’s a little preoccupied, but you’re more worried about how his sentences trail than anything

Pops up randomly in the next few days in your room just to chat, looks around your room, and then leaves again (like a cat)

He’s trying to find a present that you’d want to use-- something practical-- but also something you’d also enjoy having (he’s setting up high standards, but he wants his gift to be good enough for you)

Low-key stressing a lot over this that he’s a little distracted at all times

Ends up combining all his gift ideas by setting up a date for you to spend some quality time with him AND buy your gift when the two of you are together AND has a gift ready for you just in case nothing catches your fancy on your date (he is anything if not prepared for all scenarios)

The gift he gets you is something he’d think you’d enjoy or reminded him of you (and hopes for the best)

Asmodeus

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME EARLIER?”

Asmo is almost offended that you didn’t tell him about your birthday-- how is he supposed to set up a extravagant birth week celebration if your birthday is in a few days?

But no matter-- he’s not that discouraged and is determined to rock your socks off with a present anyways, even though he would have definitely had your birthday celebration as a tag for the entire month if he had the time (now it’s only a week-long trending tag, but he’ll make do)

Will definitely coyly offer up himself as a present (and if you say yes, he will be at your mercy) but thinks he has more creativity that than to make you special day great

Takes you on a shopping spree where he dresses you up in the fanciest of clothes and things that you have always adored and refuses to let up until you let him buy you a gift

On the day of your birthday, he offers up his room as an entire spa day-- pedicure, manicure, whatever-cure you would ever want! Massage, face mask, bubble bath-- if there’s anything that can let him show how much he appreciates you, then tell him! He is at your mercy today!

Takes you out on a spin in town, buying you drinks and dancing with you at clubs if that’s what you want; but the night is yours, hun!

Beelzebub

You tell him when he’s eating something and his face morphs from surprised, delight, to sadness

“I… didn’t get you a present yet…”

You reassure him that it’s completely okay, but you know your words aren’t working because he still has that forlorn expression that reminds you of a kicked puppy

Asks you directly what you would want and if you tell him he’d be more than happy to get whatever it is you requested, even if it’s a physical gift or if you want to spend the entire day with him

It is your birthday and he already feels bad for not being able to really prepare for it properly, so he’ll do anything he can to make you happy

If you don’t tell him what you want, you better be strong enough to resist looking into his eyes to not cave into just telling what you want

Eventually settles on giving you something thoughtful and quickly hand-made-- like a set of coupons that say things such as ‘I will do your chores for a week’ or ‘I will make you dinner’

The coupon book has a lot of food-related things than anything, but you know his love language is basically food-- he loves you lots, okay?

Other than that, he’s super indulgent to you on your birthday. You want a lift? No problem. You want him to carry you bridal style to school? Sure, he can’t see why not!

Belphegor

“Wait, seriously? You waited until NOW to let me know?”

Kind of annoyed about the fact you dropped this detail on him now and decides to immediately punish you by trapping you in his embrace in a forced snuggle even while you laugh (so honestly, you have no regrets)

Tells you he’s not getting you a present

He’s getting you a present though, regardless of what he says, but now he has the element of surprise on his side (assuming you believe that he’s not getting you something)

Hangs out with you per usual in the next few days, paying more attention to what you would want in a present and asking low-key questions about possible gift ideas-- he’s real sneaky about it, so you honestly won’t pick up on it at all

Goes out of his way to help you study and help you out because it is your birthday, after all, and he’s pretending like he didn’t get you a present

Probably casually drops off a gift at your desk on your birthday, and if you’re surprised, he’s a little smug-- but if you’re not, he’ll be a little embarrassed but will tell you to just ‘open the present already’

Gift is most likely to be something that he’s noticed that you have continually needed but never had the thought or time to get-- just to make your life a little easier

Tells you to go nap with him as compensation for the work he’s done trying to think up of a gift for you

#obey me #shall we date? obey me!#obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #tags pls work

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wri0thesley · 3 years

Text

A Well Rounded Education (4): Equality Statement (Fem!Reader x Naoya Zenin, 7.5k)

series synopsis: you are a teacher’s aid to teacher Gojo Satoru, training to be able to take over your own class next year by shadowing and helping him out. gojo, unfortunately, does not make things easy for anybody.

chapter synopsis: you make the mistake of crossing naoya zenin at a sports festival and are forced to apologise. but as you well know by now, nothing ever seems to go to plan where any of your student’s fathers are concerned.

NSFW. MINORS DNI. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. misogyny, weird power dynamics, hate-sex, piv sex, blowjobs. naoya.

(a well rounded education m.list and navigation) ♡ (jujutsu kaisen masterlist)

The Saturday morning that your first ever undokai is scheduled for dawns bright and early, and you can’t help the little thrill that goes through you at the golden fingers of dawn lighting up your room. There’d been talk of the weekend bringing rain, and things needing to be rescheduled – but it’s perfect weather, as you put on a comfortable tank top and shorts instead of your neat pencil skirt and suit jacket combination.

This will be your first event of the kind, and you’re excited about it. The kids in the class have been practising all of their cheers and routines and the like constantly, whilst the ones involved in the competitive sports have been cheering one another on and snatching time when they can to race against one another in preparation. It’s been nice to see all of the camaraderie between them – even some of the quieter ones have seemed to come a little bit out of their shell, with so much team spirit in the air.

Well. Most of them have. You’ve noticed Junpei still hanging back, face sad, uncomfortable when other boys crowd him and tug him off to who knows where – probably to get him involved in their own practises or rehearsals.

It’s been long and hard preparing for it, but even Gojo has been focused on something for once.

“There’s just something about events like this!” Gojo chirped to you, once, as he’d held up a megaphone he did not really need and called his class back into formation in front of him. “You know! The joy of youth! I want them to have the best time possible! They deserve it.”

Seeing Gojo’s mischievous eyes sparkle with determination instead of humour had made you smile at him, and you’d felt a strange pull in your chest when he’d smiled back, needing to pull your gaze away to ask Yuuji to stop poking Megumi in the back to get him to look at a weird caterpillar he’d found on the ground.

As a junior high undokai, things are a little more competitive than they might be if this were an elementary school or even a middle school event, but there’s still a big emphasis on the teamwork and the cheering on portion of the day. You’ve watched and applauded what feels like a hundred practises for the cheering section, confiscating whistles when they’re sneakily blown whilst you’re trying to teach a mathematics lesson.

Still, you’re not surprised to see that Gojo’s class have been corralled into his classroom whilst your vivacious teacher and mentor gives them a rallying encouragement that seems to contain a lot of bigging up the fact that they are, in fact, his class.

“I thought the pep talk was for them,” you say, as heads turn to you when you walk into the room. It’s strange to see all of the faces dressed in their gym uniforms instead of their school uniforms – and it’s even stranger to be wearing an approximation of it yourself.

“You look nice!” Yuji pipes up, and you smile at him.

“It is for them,” Gojo brings a hand to his sunglasses to push them down a little, giving you a charming smile and the full force of the galaxies swirling in his eyes. “I’m just reminding them that as Satoru Gojo’s class, of course they’re going to do well! We’re going to be the strongest, and win!” He looks at all of them – bright shining faces turned to him, all lit up with the excitement of competition. There’s something in him that you rarely see right now – something encouraging and bright and compassionate. He genuinely seems to want them to do well. “I believe in all of you!”

The warmth spreading through your chest at Gojo’s words is a new experience. You’re far more used to exasperation and frustration where he’s concerned.

But now, you can’t help the infectious smiles of the children and the determination in their face to do well enough for everyone to be proud of. Maybe Gojo isn’t so bad after all, you think, as he bids the children in the class farewell and tells them to go and join everyone else outside in preparation for the day’s events.

“What d’you think?” He asks you, as Junpei leaves the room, still dragging his feet a little. You can’t blame him. He’s involved in the cheering section, as so many of the less athletic kids are, but the undokai is not optional and you think that Junpei is the kind of boy who hates being looked at. “Are we gonna win?”

“I don’t think that’s quite the point of the exercise,” you say, eventually. “We’re supposed to be fostering team spirit and co-operation--”

“Yeah,” Gojo wrinkles his nose and grins. “But we’re still gonna win, right?”

You sigh.

“With Yuji and Maki? Probably. But that’s not the point!”

Gojo stands up and stretches his arms out above him. He’s in a shirt that clings tight to a surprisingly muscled abdomen, and dark grey sweatpants. He’s never been the ‘formal wear’ kind of teacher, but it’s still jarring to see him dressed so casually – and even more jarring to realise that he’s handsome, despite the fact you’ve spent most of the last few months rolling your eyes and sighing and cursing the world that you’ve ended up having to endure Satoru Gojo so much.

“I know, I know – but it’s nice to think about, right?” His grin is infectious. “Did you have time to have breakfast this morning? I know it’s an earlier start than usual, I’ve got a spare blueberry muffin in my bag – hope it didn’t get crushed too badly by my stretches--”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, already dreading the idea of him pressing a crumbled muffin into your hand. “I had a healthy, nutritious breakfast.”

“So did I!” He says, hotly. “The blueberry muffin had fruit in it, croissants are glazed with egg so that’s protein, and I had a slice of honey on toast too just because I felt like I’d have to keep my energy up today--”

You are constantly impressed by how he manages to consume all of this sugar without going into overdrive – then again, maybe that does explain a lot about him.

“I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be doing today,” you admit to him. “I mean, I know I’m here to cheer on the kids and stuff, but I don’t know what my role’s supposed to be--”

“Oh!” He comes around and begins to walk out of the classroom, beckoning you to follow him. “Didn’t I tell you? They told me ages ago--” He did not tell you. You don’t know why you find this a surprise. “You’re gonna be in charge of the refreshments table for the first half of the morning – Yuta, you know, the other teacher’s aid, he’ll relieve you for the second half so you can cheer us on and help me a bit. Not that I’ll need it! It’s not a hard job, just be polite to anyone who needs to use it, most of ‘em bring their own lunches and snacks but we find that it’s always good to have a table with some extras – especially when it’s so hot outside!”

“You didn’t,” you say, but you follow him anyway. You have learnt by now that the most you’ll get from Gojo is a shrug and an airy ‘sorry’. And you suppose, in the grand scheme of things, this isn’t so bad. It’s not like you needed to have time to stop and prepare yourself to give people a polite smile and ask them if they’d like you to pour them a glass of water.

The two of you spill out into the grounds of the school, which is already full of excited students and proud parents. You recognise a few of them – your face heats up as you see Nanami forcibly pressing a bottle of sunscreen into Yuji’s hands, and as the two of you walk past Geto who is tying back Mimiko and Nanako’s hair, ensuring the team hats that the students are all wearing sit neatly on their heads.

There’s a man stood with Maki and Mai who you assume is their father; a blond with a sneering face and a presence that makes you feel like you shouldn’t even be looking at him. Maki has her arms crossed, her chin jutting forward – the two of them are clearly involved in some kind of argument. Even as you watch, some other men are walking towards him with their heads bowed, like he’s something special.

You vaguely recall that you’ve heard some tell about the Zenins being a very rich, very old, very respected family. Judging from the way he carries himself and the way people keep looking at him, you think that must be it.

“Is that Maki and Mai’s dad?” You ask, curiously, as you’re pushed past him towards a collection of tables beneath a bright yellow awning. Gojo makes a noise that sounds like a sigh.

“Yep,” he says, sounding short. There’s some kind of history there, you think. “That’s Naoya Zenin. Better for you to avoid him, if you can – he’s not the kind of guy you want to cross, y’know?”

“But Maki’s--”

“Absolutely nothing like him,” Gojo deposits you in front of a table heaped with water jugs, ice cubes and plastic cups. “Really.”

You wrinkle your nose as you look around. At least everyone else seems happy – excited, buzzing with energy and the promise of an exciting day ahead. You can’t help but worry about Maki’s expression, though. She had looked like her and her father were having an argument that had been going on for months--

Gojo waves at you as he jogs across the field, moving surprisingly quickly for a man who ate nothing but sugar for his breakfast. You watch him go, unable to stop a smile forming on your face as he pauses by Maki and Mai. He slaps a hand onto Maki’s shoulder and says something with a bright grin that she seems to respond to with a smile, turning to follow him. Her father’s eyes narrow, as he spits something that even you can work out is venomous at the retreating backs of one of his daughters. He sighs as he says something else to Mai, a smile almost tugging at the corners of his mouth as his attention shifts back to her.

It’s clear who the golden child is there, then.

You try and shake your thoughts away from Naoya Zenin and his two girls and concentrate on the place that you’ve been given, reminding yourself that even if it doesn’t seem like a big role, you all have to work hard to make sure that today is a success. Your students have been practising and getting excited for this event for weeks, and you want all of the parents to be as proud of their students as you are.

You have a good view from the refreshments table of everything that’s going on. You watch a few of the races, a few cheering displays from the other classes to the beat of the drums – and when kids run up to you, sweaty and panting, you hand them a plastic cup full of cool water and they thank you as if you harvested it from a spring yourself instead of merely pouring it out.

Some parents ask you politely who you are, and you tell them with a smile and a bright look, hoping that you being friendly and polite will get back to other people. A few of them exchange looks when they hear that you’re attached to Gojo’s class; the man has a reputation that follows him everywhere. You give out oranges and other pieces of fruit to some of the students who need an extra sugar boost, or the ones who have a bandage wrapped around their knee or grazes from falls that have recently been cleaned. Shoko is busy today, and you often see her direct these injured children to you as a rest stop, and so their parents can find them easily.

You pause for a moment as the names are called for a relay race, and you hear Maki and Mai being summoned. This is the first race that they’re taking part in – if their team wins this one, they’ll qualify for the final this afternoon. You can see Gojo lifting his arms and hollering and hear his loud, excited voice even with all of the other people crowding into the school grounds to watch, and despite yourself you feel a smile spread over your face.

You’re still smiling when you hear a scoff.

You turn around to see what the fuss is – only to see Naoya Zenin, holding a plastic cup of water as if it’s offended him mortally. Seeing you looking at him, his lip curls.

“Is this tap water?” He asks you. He has a curious accent; slow, drawling, and clearly much superior to your own. It’s not an accent that Maki and Mai have inherited – and as he raises one eyebrow, the sun catching the rings in his ears, you find yourself glad of it. “Well?”

“I think so,” you say. You are on edge. He peers into it, and sighs.

“Don’t you have anything better? Cell-gen or Tennensui or even I LOHAS, at least?” He speaks to you slowly, like you’re a child, or as if he’s not sure whether a peasant like you would even know the names of any bottled water brands. You can’t stand being talked down to, and you curl your hand into a fist as you say, trying to keep yourself polite;

“I’m sorry, Sir. There’s just this.”

“You’d think with the money pumped in-- fine.” He sighs, taking a sip of the water, his face scrunching in displeasure at – you don’t know. The disgusting taste of tap water, you suppose. You try not to look at the bob of his throat as he swallows. Everything about this man seems to be unpleasant except the way he looks.

You take your own cup of water, just to quell some of the dryness that has made itself known in your throat at interacting with him.

The cheering gets a little quieter, and you turn to see what’s happened. As it turns out, all that’s actually happened is Gojo has stopped putting forth his own shouts to the fray, his eyes focussed on you and Naoya, a look that you think is almost sympathy spread across his face. You see that the race is about to begin, and you don’t look at Naoya as you say;

“You’re Maki and Mai’s father, aren’t you? Their first race is about to start. Maki’s been training really hard, I think she’ll pip it for us—”

A dark presence at your shoulder, and a sneering, uppity drawl.

“I gather you’re the teaching aid I’ve been hearing so much about from everyone.” he says. It does not sound like a compliment. “Maki has really found you . . . encouraging.” He says it like it’s a dirty word.

You force yourself to remain cheerful, and not ask him what the fuck his problem is.

“Maki’s really talented,” you say. “Mai’s fast, too – they’re both really good representatives for the class--”

Naoya snorts.

“They should be on the sidelines,” he says, coolly. “Supporting the men. Not running. Not getting all sweaty and hot and messing up their hair and their pretty faces.” He shakes his head. “It’s unwomanly, and if Maki listened to a word I’d said, she wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Mai is doing it too,” you point out, hating yourself for getting involved in this. But you just can’t let him stand there and be such an asshole, spewing his narrow-minded ideas when there are impressionable girls around.

“Mai’s already agreed that if they win this race, she’ll ask one of the boys to switch in for her. I’ve sorted it with the principal. It’s not ladylike for her to do any more than she has to. She’s not going to get a husband in good standing based on her athletic prowess--”

Oh, this is too far. You’re seething, though you’re trying to keep your respectable face on. You’re at work, you’re at work, you’re at work--

“Perhaps there are some other things they consider more important than finding a husband, at the age of twelve?”

Naoya’s laugh is nasty, mocking – and you hate that there’s something in it that sends a curl of heat right through you, blooming between your thighs.

“The younger a girl learns her place,” he says, his voice very slow. “The better it is and easier it is for a man to be assured she’ll do her duties. I don’t see a ring on your finger, Miss – I’d hate for them to end up working some dead-end little job just because they don’t have anyone to cook and clean for--”

Nope.

You can’t take it any longer.

You turn and you throw the cup of ‘shitty tap water’ in your hand right over Naoya Zenin’s stupid, smug, asshole face.

Gojo, for what you think must be one of the first time in his life, looks uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know you were going to throw water on him,” he tries to say, weakly. “Look, we all hate him, but . . . ugh. This is so frustrating! I hate all of this bureaucracy bullshit--”

It turns out that Naoya Zenin’s family – and Naoya Zenin himself – donate rather a lot of money to the school for such functions as the one you’re all currently attending. It turns out that nobody wants to piss off the bank-roll that’s keeping their gym maintained, their events fancy and expensive, the library well-stocked – and you get that! You really do! You know that school budgets are overstretched already, and that donors like the Zenin family are something to be gently courted and kept around for as long as humanly possible.

You just wish that the big donor for this school was anybody else.

“I didn’t know all of this,” you say, reasonably. “I know I shouldn’t have thrown a drink over him, but Mr. Gojo--”

“How many times? You can call me Satoru.”

“If you’d heard the way he was talking--”

“Oh, believe me,” Gojo’s full lips press into a thin line. “I know exactly what Naoya Zenin’s modus operandi is. Let me guess: he was all on at you about how Maki’s not a proper young lady, how the boys should be doing the hard work, how he’s trying to make sure his daughters get a proper start and a rich husband – ugh.” Gojo tugs at his shirt, clearly frustrated. “I’ve had it way too much.”

“Yeah,” you say. You find yourself sighing too.

“The Vice Principal’s in his back pocket,” Gojo says, taking a seat on top of the desk that you’re currently sat behind, cooling off some of your anger – Principal Masamichi had sent you inside to calm you down, and Naoya himself had been escorted into the building by Vice Principal Gakuganji to dry off, all the while saying placating things to calm down the school’s meal ticket. “They want you to apologise to him.”

“I suppose I should,” you say miserably. “But it’s gonna feel like swallowing gravel.”

“I certainly don’t blame you,” Gojo says, with a smile, trying to cheer you up. “Hell, I know some of the other staff members have been dying to do it--”

“Ugh,” you bury your face in your hands. “This is a horrible impression in front of the whole school.”

He pats you gently on the shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, “when this is all over, I’ll take you out for ice cream. I know the best places in the city, and they all know me too!”

You summon a smile for him. He’s not so bad, really – sure, he’s chaotic and thinks too highly of himself for his own good, but . . . at least he’s nothing like Naoya. You stand up and pull down your shorts, wriggling your tank top down to cover you as much as you possibly can. You feel a bit exposed, not in heels and stockings and a blouse.

“I should get this over with, then.”

Gojo has too much to do back on the field to escort you to Naoya himself, so he tells you that Naoya’s in the Vice Principal’s office and gives you another friendly squeeze on the shoulder.

“Good luck,” he tells you. “Remember: ice cream at the end of this!”

“Ice cream at the end of this,” you repeat, as you watch him jog out of the corridor. You’re almost tempted to tell him off for running in the halls – Gojo moves so fast that sometimes you lose track of him entirely – but you push back the urge. Gojo is being decent today. You’re thankful to him for sitting with you and helping you calm – and also, evidently, for being one of the things that keeps Maki’s fighting spirit inflamed.

You stand there for a moment, in front of the door to the office, balling up your courage tight and hot in your stomach. You do not want to have to apologise to Naoya, but you know it’s for the best. The sooner you can put this sorry incident behind you and try and avoid Naoya at every single function from herein, the better – so you tap hard on the door and wait until you hear his slow, drawling voice.

“You can come in.”

At first, you’re surprised to see that he’s alone in there – sitting in front of the desk in a comfortable chair, clearly at ease with everything. His arms are sprawled over the back of it, his legs wide apart. You chastise yourself for thinking it immediately – of course the vice principal is busy right now, of course he trusts someone as well-known to the school as Naoya to be alone in his office.

It’s hard not to think about every other time you’ve found yourself alone with the parents of your students, though. A heat crawls onto your face at the very thought of it. You find Naoya repellent, disgusting – but then again, he’s also (and you’re not being glib about it) handsome. You’d be lying if you’d said you sometimes hadn’t ignored a man’s personality for a night in favour of a face and a body that had drawn you in.

Not now.

You close the door behind you, clasping your hands together so you don’t clench your fists, and bow your head so that Naoya can’t tell that you’re grinding your teeth.

“I’m sorry for letting my emotions get the better of me, Sir,” you say, though it really does feel like you are gnashing ice to get the words out. “I should have been more polite. I can assure you it won’t happen again.”

“Mmm,” Naoya says, and you peek up at him through your lashes to see that he’s clearly enjoying having you at his mercy, his lips tilted into a smirk. His hair is still a little wet at the ends, but all that you throwing the water over him seems to have actually done is made his shirt cling tight to a surprisingly chiselled chest and stomach. Asshole. Fuck him. “Yes. I should hope not.”

You straighten yourself up, still a little stiff.

“I hope you can forgive me,” you say. “I . . . I am still learning my place in the establishment.”

He laughs, low and soft.

“Your place?” He asks, the words dangerously sweet on his tongue. “Yes. I can see you still need some help on that one.”

His eyes crawl over you slowly, dragging up and down the length of you, lingering over where your shorts cling to your hips and the tank top hugs your chest. You resist the urge to shift – you don’t want to let him know that he’s making you uncomfortable. You know, though, that he can sense that you have gone hot and prickly all over. He has that smug air; the one men who know what they do to people always seem to have cultivated. The knowledge that they are good-looking.

You suppose for Naoya, it’s the heady combination of knowing he is good-looking and powerful and rich, and you breathe through the force of all of his attention concentrated on you.

“Seeing as you’re still . . . new to all of this,” he says, bringing an arm forward to tap his long fingers on the desk. “And you did apologise prettily, I suppose I can forgive this transgression – just this once, darling.”

The pet name crawls up your spine like ice. He’s still staring at you, enjoying the view like you’re a piece of meat on a market stall he’s considering purchasing.

“Th-thank you, Sir,” you say, hating yourself a little bit but hating him all the more.

“You know,” he says. “You’re not exactly bad-looking.” He stands, rising to his full height, stretching out, frustratingly comfortable in this environment when you feel like a deer who’s about to turn tail and flee at any moment. “You’d be much better off at home raising children than here.” He wrinkles his nose. “Working for a living.” The way that he says the words makes it clear that he considers this a task far beneath the likes of him.

He’s moving towards you now, and your breath seems to get stuck in your throat as he’s suddenly in front of you, stalking elegantly. You want to snap back something about how you’d rather work for a living than have to rely on the whims of a man, much less a man like him – but as he grabs your chin to tilt it up to the light, you find that the words seem to die in your throat.

“Hmm,” he says. “Not bad at all.” He makes an approving noise that sends a flutter right through you, making you dully aware of a pounding ache between your thighs. He leans a little further in, until he’s so close that you can see the pale colours dancing in his eyes, the way the light hits his high cheekbones. “You’re trembling with rage, you know. It’s adorable.”

“You’re very easy to be angry at,” you half-breathe, half-hiss, and Naoya’s smirk is going to be burnt into your memory forever and ever.

“If you’re so angry,” he murmurs, “I can certainly think of a way I wouldn’t mind helping you work out your aggression.”

You shouldn’t do it. But your heart is beating a frantic rhythm against your ribcage and your breath is short, and part of you wants to wrestle him to the ground and dominate him so that he can have a taste of his own medicine. You grab a handful of his hair and drag him down into a bruising kiss.

Oh, and he kisses back. His mouth is soft against yours, but the kiss itself is rough – both of your tongues fighting for dominance, both of you trying to nip at one another’s bottom lip and seize the victory. You’re practically shoved backwards so that your ass catches the edge of the Vice Principal’s desk, even as you tug hard on Naoya’s hair to tell him that you’re not going to be overpowered by him so easily. You feel the feral curve of his grin as he pulls back just enough to whisper;

“Oh? You really think you’re going to get the better of me? You’re cute--” and then you push his shoulders hard, and he stumbles and falls back onto the chair he started this whole escapade sat in. You reach down to tug off your shirt, dropping it onto the floor beside you – Naoya looks for a moment like he’s going to stand back up and resume trying to wrest back the situation into his favour, but as he sees the slight bounce of your breasts in your bra he seems to decide it would be more interesting and beneficial for him to stay exactly where he is and watch you disrobe.

So you do, wriggling your shorts down past your hips – he lets out a low groan at that, as you stand before him in nothing but your underwear with your fists clenched on your hips.

You feel surprisingly powerful like this. It definitely makes a difference from all of the other ways you’ve felt when you’ve been alone with somebody’s father--

“Take off your shirt,” you tell him, and you’re almost surprised at the imperious tone in your own voice. “It’s your turn--”

He raises an eyebrow at you, but he does as you ask. Long fingers curling around the hem of his shirt, taking his sweet time pulling it off his body – and yes, it’s a nice one. Nice, too, are his thighs as he undoes his trousers that probably cost more than you make in a year and pushes them down, sitting before you in nothing but his equally as expensive-looking underwear – an impressive looking bulge outline pressed against the fabric. Even as he looks at you, he takes hold of himself through it and squeezes it, his grin crooked.

Your body does a throb of need.

“Oh,” you say, feigning surprise. “I didn’t realise you were so needy already--”

“Like you’re not dripping,” he says sharply, his eyes zeroing in on the space between your thighs. “Don’t flatter yourself. I can see the damp patch from here.”

“Who’s to say that’s for you?” You walk towards him. You can’t help but feel powerful and in control at how his eyes follow you with rapt attention, how his tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip as he drinks in your form in front of him.

“Please,” he says. “As if there’s anyone here more deserving.”

He reaches forward and his hands settle on your hips, dragging you closer to him – hot fingertips brushing your waist, the bare skin beneath your bra before he’s unclipping that too and your breasts are bare. He breathes in deeply.

“Pity,” he says, though his voice is thick with his own arousal. “You’re such a cute little thing, if only you didn’t open your mouth--”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind me opening my mouth to do something else,” you breathe, and you reach down to ghost your fingers over his cock through the tent in his underwear. He hisses through his teeth, his eyes half-lidded.

“Don’t just say it, princess,” he says. “If you’re going to run your mouth, the least you could do is make it do something useful--”

“I’d rather die than get on my knees for you.” Your mouth is very close to his neck – to punctuate the statement, you give his earlobe a tug with your teeth, and he practically groans. You’re almost straddling him on the chair, and you do not miss, either, the twitch that his cock seems to give at the tug.

It seems like for somebody who really wants to be in control, and wants women to know their place so badly, Naoya actually is rather enjoying somebody giving him a taste of his own medicine.

He grabs your underwear and pulls it down, clicking his tongue as it bunches about your knees.

“Just give into what your body wants,” he says, all saccharine sweetness in that slow, deep voice. “You’ve made a mess.”

You know you have. You can feel slick when your thighs press too close together, hot and wet between your legs. You really are practically dripping. But it’s not just from Naoya, you don’t think – it’s from the sudden power you’re feeling, the rush of being an equal participant in everything, in feeling like you have the upper hand. And not a small part, you think, is because of the adrenaline that’s coursing through your veins at the thought of putting Naoya Zenin in his place. You tip your head to the side innocently.

“What about you?” You ask, with a mean shade to the pitch of your voice. “You’re so hard it’s a wonder you’re not in pain--”

He grabs a hank of your hair with one hand whilst spreading your legs further with the other, so strong that the breath’s knocked out of you. The tip of his finger skims the outer lips of your sex, gathering your slick arousal on the pad as he growls;

“I’m still a man, darling. I see a pretty cunt to fuck and a pair of nice tits and I want to bury myself into it until the bitch remembers her place--”

“Good luck,” you breathe. “I think you’ll be the one remembering his place, here.”

He laughs breathlessly.

“Oh,” he purrs. “You’re going to be singing a different song when you’re begging me to fuck you harder.”

You give him a smile with your teeth bared; the challenge is obvious. It’s a smile that says ‘we’ll see’, even as you both tug at his underwear to pull it down and reveal what he’s been hiding beneath it.

You don’t want to admit that he’s got a pretty cock, but he has. He’s not the biggest you’ve seen, but it’s still impressive; a slight curve giving it an elegant angle that you realise with a clench will hit you exactly in the right spot when you take it inside of you.

He’s slick with his own pre-come, bubbling from the reddened slit – and as you shift forward and trap it between your thighs, he groans aloud again.

“That’s right,” he grunts, as the tip catches on your entrance and you begin to sink down upon it. “This is what you were made for, princess--”

“What?” You pant. “That would be disappointing. You barely fill me up--”

He grabs you and pulls you into another kiss as you finish off sheathing his cock inside of you – perhaps to save his pride, perhaps to muffle the noise that comes out of him, transferred into your mouth instead of his own. Whichever it is, you hate that you were right about the angle of his cock – you can feel it pressing snugly against the spongy G-spot even now, threatening you with a better time than you’d like to have.

You break the kiss to pull yourself off of him and sink back down, forcibly taking the lead and setting your own pace. You know it’s fast, you know it’s greedy – but fuck, if you aren’t boiling over with need.

You splay your hands across his shoulders, nails digging into his skin with little care to how you might mark him. You need him for leverage, as you continue to bounce up and down on his cock. Naoya tips his head back and groans, enjoying the feeling, before he remembers that you two are engaged in a battle of wits and attempts to get the better of you once more.

“I-is that,” he groans, coming to cling onto your waist and force you down on him with even more strength, helping you along in the too-fast rhythm of your thrusts and bounces. “The best you’ve got?”

“Come on,” you say breathlessly, as his cock continues to stroke that spot. You can hear the sounds of him sliding in and out of you, shamefully loud – too, you can hear the sounds of your skin slapping against one another, echoing and mixing with the breathless pants and the attempts to trade barbed insults. “Y-you’re making me do all the work?”

“Fucking pity you’ve got such a nice cunt,” Naoya snarls, his hips flexing, somehow managing to hit you deeper even as you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet and straddling him on the chair. His words are starting to sound very far away. “You should be in my fucking bed, keeping it warm, better off than wasting away here--”

Both of you are running your mouths, overwhelmed by how close one another’s bodies are and the intense heat radiating from you. There’s a frisson of electricity in the air, showering sparks, as the two of you continue to snatch words in between moans and groans and pants and whimpers--

“You’re pathetic--”

“You’re so fucking tight, I shouldn’t be surprised when you’re such a bitch--”

“F-fuck, harder, c-can’t you even keep the momentum going? You’re weak--”

“Baby girl, you’re fucking shaking – you gonna come first? Women are so predictable--”

You can feel your release hovering on the edge of your vision, blurring it as your eyes squeeze shut and you feel tears threatening to roll down your cheeks. There’s a heat inside of you that’s close to overspilling – and as you come down on him particularly hard, the head of his cock rolls over your g-spot just right, and you feel a dam inside of you break as your nails dig hard enough into his shoulders to draw blood. You bury your face into his neck so he doesn’t get the satisfaction of hearing you cry out his name, teeth worrying into his neck to leave a love-bite reminder of exactly what transpired between you two in the Vice Principal’s office.

You feel yourself twitch and tighten around him as your orgasm rocks your body, heat running through you like veins of marble. You can’t breathe – all you can do is bite, your hips chasing the final aftershocks.

Naoya is still hard inside of you as you lift yourself off him, letting his cock slip out of you as easily as butter. His own hands clench around your hips.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He asks, his voice rough and hungry. Despite that, though, you can hear the thread of some other emotion sewn in to them – and with a shiver of delight, you realise it’s neediness. He’s been left wanting, and you’ve been handed all of the cards. “I haven’t finished.”

“And you won’t finish inside me,” you snap at him, enjoying the longing in his voice. “Ask me very nicely and I’ll finish you off with my hand.”

“Mouth,” he demands – and he grabs your cheeks, squishing them, pulling you down and reminding you of all of the power that he has even though it’s your body that’s got the advantage of the high ground. “You don’t really think I’m going to be satisfied with your hand, princess--”

“You don’t deserve it,” you spit at him, but you sink to your knees anyway.

You’re not entirely lacking in manners. You suppose you did get to come. It would be rude to just leave him like this. Especially when the whole reason you’d ended up in this office in the first place was to apologise to him politely.

“This is the perfect position for you,” he sneers, as you open your mouth and envelope the head of his cock within it. You can taste yourself on his shaft. “Fuck, that’s right – put your mouth to good use for once--”

You give him a mean, slow lick along the slit of his cock head that makes him groan in the back of his throat. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck, fingers digging into the nape so he can control you at least a little bit, pushing you a touch too far so you almost choke. You pull off it, drooling.

“Choke me again and I’ll bite,” you snarl, and he pats your cheek like you’re an obedient dog.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he says – and you narrow your eyes at him in a way that says ‘try me’ before you return to sucking at him, hollowing your cheeks. You want to do a good job. A part of you wants to make him come so hard that he regrets being an asshole to you, even though you know that’s ridiculous and not going to happen.

Still. You’re not going to back down from a challenge, so you use your tongue to play along as much of his cock as you can.

“Fuck,” Naoya breathes. “Good . . . good fuckin’ girl—”

You’ve been hearing that low, polite drawl swear and curse for what seems like hours, but that one sends another pulse of heat through you – at your heart, you can’t argue that you love being praised. You whimper against his cock, glad that the fast pace you’ve managed to establish and the wet noises of your mouth around him muffle the noise so Naoya can’t dangle it over your head.

The hand on the nape of your neck jerks, so that you’re forced to look up at him and meet his eyes proper. His hips are slamming to meet your bobs now, the noise of him fucking your mouth filling the room. His teeth dig into his bottom lip and you feel him twitch, his voice pitching--

Salt coats your tongue as he fills your mouth.

But he doesn’t let himself finish there.

He pulls out, and he pumps his cock himself two, three times – coaxing out the other ropes of come, that hit your neck and chest and breasts hot and white and glistening. You’re too surprised by it to do anything – you’d expected him to keep your mouth on him, make you swallow down everything he gave you. He seems the kind of guy who gets off on that sort of thing--

But instead, he’s sighing, relaxing back into the chair as he looks at you with lazy eyes.

“You look cute like that,” he says, his voice low and sated. “I should take a picture.”

“Fuck you,” you breathe, getting off your knees. You are so fucking thankful for the box of tissues on the Vice Principal’s desk, as you reach across and grab some to dab at yourself so you’re not sticky and disgusting for any longer than necessary.

If you leave them in his pedal waste-bin, you hope that the cleaning crew will dispose of them before the Vice Principal is even aware that they’re there. Your lip curls as you wipe your mouth. You wish you had a mint – or at least a glass of water. Even tap water would do.

For what it’s worth, Naoya seems a little agitated as he puts himself to rights too. Evidently he was not expecting you to fight back so much – he places a finger on his shoulders and scowls when he sees that you made him bleed.

“I should sue you for assault,” he says. You tap your own body, at the curve of your hips and waist.

“I’m going to bruise,” you tell him. “So I guess it would be self-defence.”

“You’re too smart for your own good,” he tells you, with narrowed eyes – and you give him another smile, one that is clearly fake, as you pull your tank top and shorts back on and re-tie your shoes.

You’re surprised as you go to leave the room and he sets a hand on the small of your back in a mocking echo of polite manners. As the two of you walk down the corridor towards the exit, he does not remove it. To the assembled crowds, you hope it will look entirely innocent – like the two of you have merely had a little chat and come to an agreement instead of heatedly fucking one another’s brains out.

You blink as you emerge out into the light, your eyes taking a moment to adjust. You see Principal Masamichi give you a sympathetic smile – and there’s Gojo, immediately charging towards you like an overprotective bear. He slows down as he sees the way that Naoya is still touching you.

“I hope everything’s alright,” he says, sounding stiffer and more formal than you usually hear. Naoya’s smile towards him is cold.

“Everything’s fine,” he says, “Perfect. You apologised beautifully, didn’t you, Miss?” Naoya looks down his nose at you, a conceited smile on his mouth. “I’ve decided to overlook this little transgression.” He leaves a pause, and you swallow as you realise what he’s waiting for.

“Thank you so much, Mr Zenin, Sir,” you say. Again, it feels like you have to force the words out through a mouthful of marbles – but they make it out of your mouth.

“Oh, don’t be so formal, Miss,” he smirks. “You can call me Naoya. I look forward to seeing you again – soon, I hope.”

“You’re just in time,” Gojo says coldly. “Maki just won the final race of the day for our team.”

Naoya’s gaze is sharp as he looks at him. His lip curls. You can tell that both of them want to do something – maybe have an out-and-out fist fight on the field. But Naoya manages to get a grip (you’re glad about it; you’re not entirely sure whether Gojo would have been able to hold back) and turns on his heel to stalk away.

He does give your ass one last squeeze, though, that you desperately hope that Gojo doesn’t notice.

Gojo’s shoulders stay set, his chin thrust proudly forward, until Naoya has been swallowed up by the crowd at large – and then, he turns to you. For the first time, you see his normally humorous eyebrows draw in with worry.

“You look upset,” he says. “Sweaty. You smell terrible. Do you need a minute?”

Your shoulders fall. Gojo gives you a sympathetic pat on the back.

“It’s a rite of passage to deal with someone from the Zenin family,” he says. “You’re just unlucky it happened to actually be Naoya today. He usually sends an underling or an uncle or someone to pretend to care about the girls.”

Wow. You sure hope the rite of passage has gone differently for everyone else.

“Why d’you think he came here today, then?” You ask Gojo. He looks at you strangely, a spark of something you can’t quite read in his eyes.

“Well,” he says, “he’s related to the Fushiguros, you know. I heard he and Megumi’s father have met up recently for drinks – it ended in a fight, of course, it always does. But maybe he expected Megumi’s dad to be here too?” He shrugs. “He can never resist an opportunity to relish over someone in his family winning, even if he doesn’t want Maki doing anything unladylike. Megumi’s dad isn’t here, though, so looks like that backfired on him--”

Your face feels like it’s on fire as you think about Megumi’s father fucking you on Gojo’s desk – and the lingering way that Naoya had said that he’d heard so much about you from everyone.

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