#he really knows how to ride those waves... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tonycries · 4 months

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Go For It, Gojo! - G.S.

Synopsis. You wouldn’t fuck Gojo Satoru even if you were paid… …is what you thought exactly five minutes before you were shoved against the wall of this cramped closet, his face stuffed in your soaked panties.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, academic rivals to lovers, student president! reader, unprotected sex, banter about physics, cunnilingus, oral sex (male + female), 7 minutes in heaven, college! AU, 69, Satoru is a tease down bad for you (and has a big dick), overstimulation, pet names (sweetheart, hardass), swearing.

Word count. 10.2k

A/N. I really don’t like physics. Art by @_3aem on X.

Life truly has an awful sense of humor - almost as bad as Gojo’s, which you discovered on the first day of Advanced Quantum Physics.

The air charged with nervous energy and the scent of freshly printed syllabi, you quickly snag a seat right at the front row of Professor Yaga’s class.

Ah, you’ll never forget how peaceful those few seconds to yourself after introductions were - before the devil incarnate dramatically swung open those lecture hall doors and plopped himself down right next to you. Late.

“Any closer to Yaga and you’d be fucking his wife, y’know.” a voice hums from beside you, shattering your daydreams of passing this class with flying colors and riding a wave of glory into becoming a Nobel prize-winning physicist.

With a slight scowl, you turn your attention to the source of disturbance - only to meet eyes with (self-proclaimed) campus sweetheart, Satoru Gojo, leaning on his chair with an air of nonchalance. At your silence, he repeats, “I said any closer-”

“I heard what you said.” you snap, irritation flaring at the amused twinkle in his blue eyes and the mirthful grin that spreads across his lips at your reaction. “Doesn’t erase the fact that you’re sitting here too.” you raise a brow.

“Oh me? That’s because I’m already fucking his wife, sweetheart.” he deadpans with a blank expression.

What? The tense silence that follows is deafening - for the first time ever in your life, you were shocked into speechlessness.

A beat passes. One. Two. Before Gojo bursts into hysterics, clutching his stomach. “You- you shoulda seen the look on your face- HAHAHA-” he gets out between uncontrollable laughs. Face burning, you train your eyes forward and will yourself to not glance at the 6’3 mess cackling beside you.

Ugh. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Just think happy thoughts - kittens, quantum mechanics, being valedictorian. Desperately attempting to block out the giggling thorn at your side, you recoil at Professor Yaga’s extremely disapproving look in your direction.

Panicking, and dreams of being his ace student slowly flushing down the drain, you quickly flip through your notes, attempting to catch up to where the lecture had now started.

“Looks like we’re in trouble, partner~” Gojo’s dramatic stage-whisper catches the attention of students around you, them chuckling at your expense.

“Hey, you’re the student president, right? Hey~ Heyyy prez~” As Professor Yaga continues his spiel about the syllabus, you continue to very obviously ignore the incessant comments that spill out of Gojo’s lips, to stifled laughs from his fast-forming entourage.

The harder you tried to focus on Professor Yaga’s words, the louder and more absurd Gojo’s comments became - as if he’d made it his personal mission to enrage you. A sense of impending doom looming over you, you glare at him with a look that could’ve melted steel, hissing out, “Do you ever in your life shut the fuck up?”

Eyes widening in mock innocence, he grins “Oh~ I didn't know our student prez could get so feisty. Maybe I should take notes instead of doodling hearts around your name in my notebook.”

Ears ringing in embarrassment and frustration, and mind a whirlwind of how bad it would really be if you killed Gojo right here, you almost miss Professor Yaga’s question, “Now, would anyone here be able to discuss the interpretations in the debate between the Copenhagen interpretation and the Pilot-Wave theory?”

Teetering on the edge of your seat, you raise your hand, scrambling to salvage whatever is left of your academic reputation. You and- Gojo?

You start at the call of your name from Professor Yaga, “The Copenhagen Interpretation uses Heisenberg's uncertainty principle and emphasizes measurement to state that quantum-level particles can act as both waves and particles. It’s the most widely accepted and pragmatic theory.”

Gojo basically falls out of his seat in eagerness to answer after you.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Gojo.”

You internally groan, ready for whatever bullshit was about to come out of his mouth.

With a deep breath, “Not to be the devil’s advocate but the Pilot-Wave theory makes way more sense practically.”

Professor Yaga raises an intrigued eyebrow at Gojo’s statement, the class collectively holds a breath - as if awaiting the impending academic battlefield.

Gojo, with a cocky grin, plows on, “Think about it. The Pilot-Wave theory suggests that particles have definite positions and paths, unlike the uncertainty principle of the Copenhagen Interpretation. It's like predicting where a ball will land after you throw it, rather than saying it could be anywhere until you look."

Oh? He wasn’t a complete idiot?

Yet, you roll your eyes, “But the Pilot-Wave theory is too fanciful, it brings in too many hidden variables that have their own set of problems. It goes against the measurements and principles of locality!”

Unbothered by the challenge, Gojo leans back further in his chair, “What’s a couple complications? It’s a lot clearer on a microscopic level, none of that weird uncertainty of the Copenhagen Interpretation.”

Irritation running through your veins, you scoff at his condescending tone, “It might seem intuitive, but experiments and observations support the probabilistic nature of quantum mechanics.” You’re almost out of your chair at this point, an accusing finger pointed at Gojo. “Despite its weirdness, the Copenhagen Interpretation has proven successful in predicting outcomes.”

“Oh yeah? And it’s also only used by hardasses that just want to shut up and calculate, sweetheart.”

“Big talk for a little bi-”

“OKAY STUDENTS, that’s enough for now. Let’s put a pin in this discussion and move on with the topic.” Professor Yaga, who had been watching the debate with amusement, promptly ends it once you two begin to get overly heated.

The rest of the class, on the edge of their seats and probably hoping for some fists swinging between the academic titans, now sit back in disappointment at the fight cut off early.

You sit back in indignation, fuming at how Gojo had gotten you so worked up. And he was wrong too!

The lecture continues as if you two were never two curse words away from each other’s throats.

But, in the midst of it all, your glare meets blue, sparkling with amusement - a jolt of electricity runs through your body at the glint of recognition of the other’s brilliance. An unspoken yet undeniable competition.

You’ve avoided Gojo like the plague for the past few months since then - which isn’t doing much when said plague follows you around everywhere with incessant calls of “Hey, hardass prez~”. The only time you seek him out being to gloatingly show off the large, red “100” on your tests - to which, unfortunately, he does the same.

It’s stupid. It’s childish. Honestly, sometimes you think he just tries to get under your skin for the hell of it.

But you don’t have the time to think too deeply into that.

Just like you don’t have time for this frat party.

Music and alcohol thrumming through your veins, it’s always the same thing. You’d rather be holed up getting ahead of your physics textbook than be here. Yet, you owed a favor to your friend Haibara - and he’d been bugging you to come to this party for weeks now.

You’ll just stay another hour then leave, you sigh.

Zoning out as Haibara plays an overly-intense game of beer pong, you’re startled by an arm around your shoulder. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t our lil’ prez looking like she’d rather peel paint than be here.” The expensive cologne hits you before the realization of who this was. “Drooling over the jocks? I recommend the STEM majors, sweetheart, jocks aren’t that great in bed.”

Quickly shrugging off his arm, you scowl, “Not like STEM majors are any better. And unlike some people, I have goals beyond being the life of the party.”

Decked out in slacks and a slightly too-unbuttoned shirt, Gojo chuckles, “Yeah, like what? Banishing fun?” Cerulean eyes gleaming with mischief, “You gotta let loose for once, sweetheart. Not everything in life is about academics and accolades.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes “Well not like I-” but whatever snarky retort gets caught in your throat as Gojo seizes your hand, effortlessly pulling you onto the dance floor.

Caught off guard, you can do nothing more than sputter in surprise as he leans down to murmur in your ear, above the bass reverberating the walls, “C’mon hardass, sometimes in life, you just gotta- dance!”

Gojo spins you into a dramatic dip, his silver chain brushing your face and his hand on your back burning into your skin.

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment - yeah, embarrassment - as the people around you cheer in amusement at the science department’s biggest rivals navigating the dance floor with surprising chemistry.

This was ridiculous. And yet, music ringing in your ears, you almost crack a smile. Almost. That is until your eye catches Haibara’s surprised ones from the side of the dance floor. Wait - here you were dancing with Gojo.

Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru.

Immediately pushing him off with a hand to his chest, you don’t listen to whatever spills out of his mouth as you make your way to Haibara, disappearing with him into the crowd.

“Hey, hey you okay? Wasn’t that the guy you were manifesting would step on Lego with his bare foot?” Haibara’s concerned voice speaks up from wherever you were dragging him through this sprawling frat house.

“Ugh, yeah. Sorry about that, I don’t even- Anyway, how did the beer pong go?” you snap out of your reverie. What happened there? You were almost…enjoying yourself with Gojo Satoru of all people.

Listening to Haibara brag about his dominating beer pong win thankfully took your mind off of your little endeavor with Gojo.

“And then Yuji totally-”

“AH, THERE YOU ARE! Perfect, come join we’re two people short!” your kinda-friend Shoko’s drunken drawl breaks through the conversation. You can barely get a word out as she forcefully drags you two into a dimly lit room against your protests.

The atmosphere heavy with beer and laughter, she plops you two down onto the floor in a neat circle of people before taking her seat beside you. “GREAT! Now we’ve got everyone, we can finally start.”

With a mischievous grin, Shoko declares, “Alrighty, folks! Time for the ol’ classic - we’re playing 7 minutes in heaven!” pulling out an old-fashioned, tattered hat from behind her back, to a collective mix of groans and cheers from the circle.

“Where did you even find that ratty old thing, Shoko?” a sharply handsome man - Geto, you think - chuckles from his seat opposite you. And beside him- your heart stops. Gojo.

A smirk curling his lips and twinkling blue eyes locked on you.

As if on instinct, you move to get up - only to be brought back down by a hand on your wrist. “Nuh-uh, no one’s escaping, c’mon it’ll be fun.” Shoko smirks, beginning to hand out pieces of paper to write down your names.

Apprehension pooling in your stomach, you share a glance with Haibara, who was honestly just happy to be here. Reluctantly, you scrawl down your name, tension building as it drops into the abyss of the hat.

“As our first attempted escapee, I think the prez should go first.” that agitating voice you knew too well speaks up. If looks could kill, Gojo would be six feet under and you’d be dancing all over his grave with a textbook on the Copenhagen Interaction.

To agreeing laughter - and your impending doom - the hat is promptly placed in front of you. God, you knew you should’ve stayed home. With a shaky hand, you delve in, grasping onto a slightly crumpled piece of paper.

Not Gojo. Please not Gojo. Literally anyone but Gojo-

Turning it over.

Satoru Gojo.

You jolt in surprise, rereading the hasty handwriting over and over - as if willing it to change. This must be some kind of sick joke. Eyes meeting Gojo’s, a flash of surprises passes his face before a self-satisfied grin takes over. He looked way too fucking pleased with himself.

“No fucking way.” Shoko mutters as it dawns on the group just who you were paired up with. Cheers and wolf-whistles erupt, filling the room as Satoru stands up extending a hand theatrically towards you. “If her highness the student prez would do me the utmost pleasure of joining me.”

You scoff, jeez it would be a surprise if you two didn’t kill each other in there. “Unless she’s…intimidated?” he bats his long lashes at you mockingly.

Intimidated? Of who? Swatting away Gojo’s hand, you stand up. “Intimidated? Don’t make me laugh.”

He leans down, retorting, “I’ve tried but you don’t seem to know how.”. The room holds their breath, attention squarely on the two of you.

A beat of silence passes as you glare at him. You really could smack his annoyingly pretty face right now, but you shouldn’t - too many witnesses.

“Now now, you two. Save it for the closet.”

Ever the mediator, Geto ushers you two in the direction of the - very cramped - closet tucked into a corner of the room.

Before you know it, the creak of the heavy wooden door rings in your ears as the door closes behind you. The loud click of a lock resonates, plunging you two into darkness.

The muffled sounds of the party seem miles away as you try to focus on your breathing - trying not to let your mind drift to Gojo. You could feel the heat of his body, the ghost of his presence less than a foot away from you.

“So…” you flinch as Gojo’s voice cuts through the deafening silence. “You still alive and breathing after being trapped in a tiny closet with me?”

You huff, desperately wanting to break out of this closet, “Yes, but you probably won’t be if you don’t stay on your side.”

“This closet is barely a closet, there’s no ‘side’, sweetheart. And that’s my leg you’re resting on.”

You immediately scramble to move away from the warmth of Gojo’s leg that you’d been subconsciously leaning yours on. In the chaos, you probably did a bit more damage than solving. “Ah! Wait- watch the crown jewels, hardass.”

You distance yourself as much as possible in the small space, knee burning where it had brushed up against Gojo’s that.

God, you were making a fool of yourself.

“As much as I like forceful women, you better take me out on a date first, sweetheart.” As your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting filtering in through the slight crack of the door, you could make out that signature playful grin.

Your irritation simmers beneath the surface. Gojo always knew how to get under your skin.

“Don’t you worry your empty lil’ head, I wouldn’t fuck you even if I was paid.” you bite back.

“Oh yeah?” Gojo leans in slightly, his voice low and teasing. “You sure about that, prez? I’ve been told that I’m irresistible.”

You raise a brow, unimpressed. “Yeah, irresistibly hard to not smack.”

“I always did like ‘em feisty. Makes our little debates all the more interesting.”

“Our debates would be a lot more interesting if you learned to keep that big mouth shut.”

“Oh? C’mon, prez, you love this ‘big mouth’. And you love the challenge. I see the way you look for me every time you answer one of Yaga’s questions, y’know.” Gojo murmurs, gaze piercing into yours.

He leans in closer - now definitely not on his side of the closet. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d call it chemistry. Admit it and I might consider not calling you ‘hardass’ for a whole week.”

“What- That’s just because- I’d rather be called ‘hardass’ for a lifetime than admit to having any chemistry with you. I can’t even tolerate you for seven minutes here.” you sputter at both his proximity and his (absurd) accusations.

“As the student prez, isn’t your entire job to tolerate everyone? You’re a walking contradiction, sweetheart.”

“I am not. You have no effect on me.” you protest, standing firm. In the heat of your argument, you and Gojo have drawn closer to each other. His breath now fanning your face as he hums, voice a seductive tease, “I do, admit it. There’s a part of you that likes our chemistry.”

A defiant spark ignites in your eyes, “I’ll admit no such thing.”

“Then…hit me like I know you want to if you don’t want this.” he whispers, voice breathless. He closes the distance.

Gojo’s lips meet yours.

Soft, they were so soft.

Your heartbeat thundering in surprise, a hand raising to - to what? Smack him away? Eyes fluttering closed, your hand fists his shirt, the other subconsciously finding its way to his cloudy locks. Tugging. Kissing him back.

Satoru kisses you like he’ll never be able to again. Because, he knows - he probably won’t.

Lips searing against yours, his eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste. Sweet - so sweet - just like candy, with a hint of Baileys and everything that he’ll never be able to have.

A strangled groan leaves his throat when you bite down on his lips. Tugging with your teeth. Shit, fuck him and his bigass ego, he wanted to be the one showing off his irresistibility but really it’s the other way around.

Mouth opening to let you in, he drinks in your gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours. Large hands on your face pulling you impossibly closer to him in this godforsaken closet. It was dizzying - almost as if it hurt to part, drawn by that familiar magnetism that always seems to hang around you.

Lost in the heat of the moment, Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body. Groping and squeezing every curve and dip - he doesn’t have enough time. He probably never will.

A hand rests firmly on your hips. Awaiting. Breaking away - just a fraction - he breathes out urgently into your lips, “I need to taste you. Let me taste you. Please.”

“Desperate, huh?”

Your gaze pierces through him, it always does. Immediately after your disoriented nod, he presses a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. God, he could do this forever.

You shudder as he hastily bunches your tight dress at your hips, sending blood rushing straight to his cock. Shit, this was not how he expected these 7 minutes to go.

Hurriedly falling to his knees, the pain doesn’t even register when he comes face-to-face with your clothed cunt. Panties already so wet - just for him. Cock twitching carnally, he needed to taste you now.

Tongue flattening across your swollen folds through your underwear, just a slight taste of your wet pussy and Satoru already thinks he might pass out. Ah, so good - of course you taste heavenly.

“Ah! Gojo- more.”

Pulling away, he feels drunk off the whimper of disappointment that escapes your mouth. “Call me Satoru.” he hums, fingers deftly sliding your soaked panties down your legs. His hot breath fanning your entrance has you clenching your thighs together, desperate for any friction.

Mouth watering at this, Satoru curses the darkness inside the closet - can’t even admire your pretty pussy right. You flinch as his face meets your cunt. Shit, this was better than he’d ever imagined on those lonely nights pathetically fucking his fist.

He breathes you in so sinfully, tongue sliding teasingly between your folds in a leisurely rhythm that almost has him forgetting however many minutes you two have left. Frankly, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it either. Sinful squelches fill the confined space, along with your quiet moans of his name.

“Hngh- S-Satoru. Feel s’good. Faster.”

Ah, it’s really music to his ears. Your voice plays on repeat in his mind. He doesn’t even realize the call from outside until you look down at him, eyes dazed and kiss-bitten lips moving to panickedly mutter, “Satoru, we only have three more minutes.”

Ah, guess he’ll have to take his time in his dreams.

“I only need two.” Satoru purrs, lips ghosting your wet core, voice sending goosebumps down your spine - all the way down to your dripping cunt.

“W-well, stop hngh- running your mouth then.” you retort.

Satoru’s smirk against your plush folds is the last thing you see before he dives nose-deep in your pussy. He doesn’t waste time, tongue dipping in and out of your hole at an unforgiving pace. In and out in and out in and-

“Hah- yes! Satoru jus’ like that!” you hiss out, desperately trying to keep the moans ripping from your throat to a minimum, in fear of the others outside hearing.

Noticing, Satoru snakes a hand up to your mouth - bullying his ringed-fingers in through your swollen lips. His index caresses your tongue, speeding up his movements on your pretty pussy as you gag around him. Moans catch in your throat as you struggle to accommodate him, the pleasure of being stretched from two ends too much.

Satoru only has to take one look - tears clinging to your lashes and drool trickling down the corner of your mouth as you suck on his fingers - before he thinks he might just cum in his pants. Fuck, it was so lewd.

You tighten your grasp on his hair, sure that your knees would give out if it wasn’t for the bruising grip he had on your hips, keeping you firmly on his mouth. Unable to run away.

Shit, for someone so tight-laced, you were so messy on his mouth. He moans as your slick pools in his mouth, dripping down the corners of his lips. The tap! tap! tap! of it hitting the hardwood floor rings deafeningly in his ears.

Ah, so this is why they call it 7 minutes in heaven. Satoru thinks he wouldn’t mind dying if it was in between your legs being suffocated by your cunt.

Your entrance clamps down desperately on his tongue, forcing him to bully it into your snug pussy, fucking you unrelentingly. His nose rubbing against your swollen clit over and over.

At this point, Satoru doesn’t know whether the pulse he feels is that of his heartbeat or your cunt, throbbing and achingly needy for his mouth. His nose stimulates your clit just right, sending shockwaves through your body that have you bucking into him for more.

Voice slightly muffled by his fingers, “Fuck- Satoru, keep going. Hngh- I’m gonna cum!”

The way your walls desperately try to fuck his tongue has his cock straining so painfully against his trousers. Satoru increases his abuse on your cunt mercilessly, the harsh pace making you squeal and buck into his face. Your juices are now all over his mouth, gushing around his tongue. In and out in and out in and out-

“Satoru!”

You cum hard - all over Satoru’s pretty face.

Now, Satoru loves when you run your mouth and infuriate him, but he might just love it even more when you’re falling apart and speechless under his touch.

Riding out your high on his features, you can feel yourself quivering around his tongue as he laps up your juices as if it were a delicacy. Deep moans leaving his mouth and vibrating across your soaked cunt, making you jolt at the overstimulation.

Pulling back, Satoru admires your unfocused eyes and bruised lips. “For someone that so fucking despises me, your slutty pussy sure is sucking me in so desperately.” he murmurs, slightly out of breath after what just transpired.

“Sh-shut up.”

Ah, if only he got to see this view more often.

You can’t help but feel the same way. Seeing Satoru fucked out, vibrant eyes half-lidded and blown out, your slick prettily glossing all over his mouth and nose. A small voice in the back of your mind wishes he was more like this and not whatever he is when he’s getting on your nerves.

“ONE MORE MINUTE! Finish up whatever devil’s tango or death match y’all are having in there!”

Those troublesome thoughts are pushed out of your mind as soon as you hear Shoko call from outside.

The bubble is broken. Jumping apart as far as possible in the cramped closet, you press yourself into the closet wall as you two wordlessly rush to make yourselves slightly more presentable. The air, once charged with overflowing tension and sex, now so strained.

Bending down to feel for the panties that Satoru- no, Gojo had thrown god-knows-where, your hands graze his - still slightly wet with your spit. Snatching your hands back as if it burned, you make out Gojo’s figure pocketing something.

…

Your panties??

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you hiss, face burning at both his actions and the idea of going outside without panties.

“Just think of it as repayment for the fun.” he hums, mirth spilling into his tone. And before you could snap at his antics, Shoko is ripping the door open and looking around the closet for what you can only assume to be missing body parts and blood.

“Aw, man. And here I was thinking Satoru would be six feet under by now.” she groans, walking off disappointedly - for which you were eternally grateful otherwise she’d have seen the few suspicious stains on the floor.

“Remember, you owe me twenty, Shoko.” Geto speaks up from the circle. Were they…betting on whether you and Gojo would kill each other in there?

Finally stepping out of that godforsaken closet, you catch the smirks and raised eyebrows from some of the people from the group.

Meeting Gojo’s eye, a smirk curls around his swollen lip as he swipes a thumb across it. Agonizingly slow. Teasing.

Your cheeks flare, something pooling in your stomach. Ugh, this is why you hate frat parties.

“You alright, man? You look…flushed?” you hear Geto question, pointedly staring at Satoru’s slightly disheveled look.

It was all getting too much - the alcohol in the air, the thumping of the overplayed pop music, and him. You felt so lightheaded. Ripping your gaze from Gojo’s you leave without so much as a goodbye to him, only stopping for a reassuring nod at Haibara. You make a beeline for the exit, dashing out of there and down the winding staircase as fast as you could.

Focused on navigating the packed party, you almost don’t register Gojo rushing after you. Ignoring whatever words were tumbling out of Gojo’s mouth, you silently thank the sorority that had just pulled up - clinging onto him in greeting, making it impossible to follow after you.

The cool night air washes over you as you finally step outside. You sigh in relief as you leave the chaotic sounds of the party - and him - behind.

Impatiently waiting for your friend on the way to pick you up, only two thoughts echo in your mind.

He actually only needed two minutes.

What the fuck?

Meanwhile, back in that heady room, Shoko nudges Suguru, the latter still watching in amusement where Satoru had run after you in the door. “Hm?” he asks, absent-mindedly.

“Why do most of these papers have Satoru’s name?”

---

You pass through the next morning in a daze. The hardest part was probably trying to get dressed without making eye contact with the purple finger marks on your hips that Sato- Gojo had left to remember him by.

You still can’t believe that happened.

It’s alright, it was just a mistake in the heat of the moment - you just have to forget it ever happened, right? But that’s easier said than done when your last class of the day is Advanced Quantum Physics.

Cursing your timetable, you step through the crowded campus. You pull your sweater tighter around yourself, the fabric doing nothing to stop your skin searing where Gojo’s lips had been just last night.

Alright, you just had to get through this one class today. There’s a lot of people in Professor Yaga’s class - it’s not like you’ll necessarily see that bane of your existence-

“Yooo prez, fate just seems to bring us together hmm?”

Gojo almost topples out of his chair, waving in your direction. As your eyes sweep across the room, you can feel your heart sinking. Shit, you really feel like you’re being Punk’d right now.

Cursing whoever was up there for this cruel joke, you make your way to the desk beside Satoru’s - the only empty one.

Slumping down onto the chair with a frustrated huff, you sink into yourself - eyes trained firmly forward and ignoring the playful grin in your peripheral vision.

To your surprise, Gojo doesn’t say a word throughout the lecture. Not a single comment about fucking any professor’s wife - or your cunt. Huh, did last night cause some type of qi deviation or something?

As Professor Yaga drones on about quantum entanglement, you find the words going in one ear and out the other, too focused on wondering what Gojo’s game was.

It’s only towards the end of the lecture, at the introduction of some new assignment that you find yourself finally letting your guard down. Okay, see, it wasn’t too bad. Now time to go back to your apartment and study whatever quantum entanglement was for the next five hours.

“Ah- And remember, the midterm assignment pairings are posted on Canvas.”

What was that?

God, you hated working with other people. It was much more efficient for you to stay in and finish this paper in one sitting.

“So, partner~ My place or yours?”

What?

The bell rings, its metallic chime resonating in your mind almost as loud as Gojo’s words. Signaling the end of class - and probably the end of your sanity.

You wish the ground would swallow you up at this very moment. These days have really not been your days.

---

“Literally what do you bring to the table?”

“Comedic relief and my undeniably good looks.”

“...”

“...and also the case study and background information.”

The air at the stuffy café just off-campus was a mixture of freshly ground coffee and hushed conversations - of course, occasionally disrupted by the chaotic debates that erupted from your little booth.

Not too long ago, as everyone moved to file out of the classroom, you were frozen, glaring at your open laptop so intensely you half-expected it to combust - scrutinizing the neat arrangement of Gojo’s name next to your own over a million times.

Finally sighing in defeat, you nodded in surrender at Gojo - who was whooping in victory. But, you were still adamant on meeting somewhere in public. The last time you two were left alone ended up…interesting.

“Then you do that and I’ll take care of the rest of the theoretical analysis and evaluation. Okay, sounds good, Gojo.” you deadpan, rubbing the sides of your forehead in frustration.

“Ouch, no Satoru?”

Ignoring his comment, you promptly slam your laptop closed, gathering your things with a determined sigh. Ready to escape the stifling atmosphere of the cafe. “So you do that and put it on the doc, and I’ll do the same with my parts. See ya.”

That’s when you feel a large hand covering yours - the same one from- “Hey there now, hardass, stay a little longer - gotta make sure you don’t slander quantum entanglement in our essay the same way you do with the Pilot-Wave theory.” Gojo interrupts your intrusive train of thought.

“What? Unlike you, I don’t slander any scientific theories. Although, I do think the idea of entangled particles jumping around like you do is hardly the hallmark of a stable scientific theory.” you retort, face burning but setting down your bag nonetheless.

Resting his face on his hands, he grins at you. “Oh yeah? I think stability is overrated, prez. Quantum entanglement challenges you because it’s a realm where your precious stability crumbles in the face of non-local correlations.”

God, was he glad he begged on his knees to Yaga to pair you two together. He was having way too much fun with this.

“Just because particles can communicate faster than you can comprehend doesn't mean we should abandon reason.” you raise a brow.

“Well, I think you should just embrace the uncertainty, sweetheart. Life is a game of chance, just like quantum entanglement.”

“Oh, really?” you drone out, sarcastically.

“Yeah, think about it. For instance, I never thought I’d still be alive and breathing after last night. But here I am.” at your stunned silence, he continues. “I for sure thought you’d have the coffin ready as soon as I kissed y-”

You panickedly place your hands over his mouth to shut him up, those blue eyes twinkle in amusement. “When I said you had a big mouth I really wasn’t lying, huh.”

Slowly removing your hands once it seemed like Gojo wouldn’t spill your endeavors in this family-friendly cafe, you sigh, “Okay- We’ll get some shit done today, alright. But this is the last time I’m meeting with you for this.”

“Mhm~ You got it, prez.”

It was not the last time you met with Gojo for this.

Nor was it the second-last.

Or the third-last.

Each and every time you two worked together on the assignment, you’d spend more time bickering about anything ranging from what you’d learned in Professor Yaga’s class that day to whether the old lady who frequented the café was a part of the mafia.

“I’m telling you, she handles those knitting needles like they’re a weapon.”

“Mhm and she sips her Earl Grey like she’s plotting espionage. Now, get to work before I use my teaspoon as a weapon.”

“I’d rather investigate her than this damn Qiskit simulation.”

“Sure, Gojo. I’ll add her to our list of groundbreaking research projects.”

“Don’t come crying to me when I rub it in your face once we see her on the news as a mafia queenpin, prez.”

You’re pretty sure the café employees have a love-hate relationship with you and Gojo - too lively to be one of their favorite regulars, but arguments too amusing to kick you two out.

And as for your relationship with Gojo…well. It’s not as if you can’t go 7 minutes without being somewhat civil, and yet that’s exactly the issue, isn’t it?

After what had happened that night, it feels as if there’s something charging the air whenever you two are together.

You chalk it up to just lingering tension, but that still doesn’t explain the way Gojo’s eyes hold a warm twinkle whenever he looks at you - gaze a little too warm than you’d expect a rival to have. But it’s fine, you just have to ace this assignment and then this strange dynamic can go back to normal.

It’s only towards the end of your assignment that you realize how wrong you really were.

---

Out of breath and darting across campus towards where you knew Gojo was waiting, you half-wish you joined the track team instead of the student government. Damn student reps, can’t keep proper archives.

As much as you got a kick out of getting on Gojo’s nerves, you hated to keep anyone waiting.

“Ah! Prez! Was heartbroken thinking you’d stood me up, y’know?” Satoru calls once he spots you bolting towards him on that dimly-lit pathway. Wow, maybe you should’ve joined the track team.

You trip. Ah, maybe not.

Feet automatically hastening your way, he catches you. Well, more like you fall into his arms.

“Just in time, huh?” he chuckles, thankful for the sun dipping below the horizon - otherwise you’d surely have caught the rosy flush tinting his cheeks. Arms wrapped around your waist and supporting your waist, Satoru almost coos at the surprised look gracing your face. You always did something to his heart.

Hastily distancing himself from you once you stand on your own, he rambles - anything to drown out the banging of his heart against his chest. “So, I’m assuming you were out there doing all your president-ly duties?”

“Ah! Yes, I’m so sorry, the meeting ran overtime and-”

Listening to you rant, Satoru thinks that he wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here - bickering with you. He’s only snapped out his reverie at your disappointed groan. Oh, what was this? He didn’t even realize his feet had carried him to the little café already.

Ripping his eyes from you, he turns to what moping at. A sign with red writing is plastered over the very locked café entrance - Sorry! Staff training today, hope to see you tomorrow!

“Seems like everyone’s got meetings today.” he hears you grumble. Satoru knows it isn’t right, but his heart leaps slightly at the chance to get to know you outside of that familiar cafe.

You, meanwhile, felt tension - and something else - pooling in your stomach. Shit, if the sanctuary of your café is no longer available…

“Well, we could just go home and finish off the paper by ourselves. It’s only the last bit anyway.” you suggest, voice slightly shaky at the idea and anticipation of actually being alone with Gojo after so long.

“But Suguru’s such a loud snorer, I’d never get any work done.” Gojo whines. Well, there goes that plan.

“The library?”

“I hear it’s haunted this time of year.” he answers right away.

“Ghosts are seasonal?” you ask absent-mindedly, too focused on weighing between the need to finish this assignment today and the uncertainty of what would happen between you and Gojo.

A tense silence fills the slowly darkening street as you go through all your options. Finally, watching the long shadows casted now, you sigh. “Fine. We’ll go to my place.” you mutter out.

“Would you get angry if I celebrated right now?”

“Maybe.”

The walk to your apartment is bathed in the soft orange glow of the setting sun. It was almost peaceful - if it weren’t for Gojo’s excited chattering about god-knows-what.

Your mind was running a million miles a minute. Was something like last time going to happen? Were you a lecher for expecting it? Why didn’t you mind the thought as much as you think you should?

You risk a glance at Satoru, who was in the middle of a passionate speech about how ketchup was a valid condiment on pasta. Soft sunlight paints his hair an amber hue, casting warm shadows that bring out his pretty features, eyes sparkling with passion and mischief. He was beautiful.

Wait. Beautiful?

“Hey isn’t this your apartment building or is walking past it a pre-entrance ritual?”

Ah. Whoops.

You snap out of those ridiculous notions, gathering whatever dignity you have left to walk back to the apartment complex you’d left in the dust while wrapped up in your thoughts.

“Oooo, didn’t take you for much of a decorator, hardass.” Gojo comments, flitting about your cozy apartment to look at all the little knick-knacks and pictures

“Did you really think I lived in some sterile lab?” you retort. Gojo’s almost-endearing curiosity amuses you enough to let go of the electricity thrumming through your body at having him so close. In your home.

“Well, I expected more beakers and fewer fairy lights, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, pretending to be offended. “Believe it or not, Gojo, hardasses can have a sense of style, too.”

He continues his exploration, stopping in front of a photo on the wall. “Who’s this model?” he grins, pointing at a picture of you in stuffy formal attire at some conference.

You sigh, knowing exactly which photo he's referring to. “That, Gojo, is me at a conference presenting a groundbreaking research paper.”

“Groundbreaking, huh? Is that what they call it these days?” he hums, arching an eyebrow playfully.

“Yes, and six feet under is what they’ll be calling you if you don’t get your ass here and finish this paper.”

“...yes, prez.”

Writing the conclusion and inserting citations is always the fun part. If you could write an essay on whatever you want, it would be only conclusions and citations, you think.

After a few hours of working on your paper, apparently Gojo does not feel the same way.

“Fuck Noodletools. All my homies hate Noodletools.”

“This is why you only have two friends, Gojo.”

“Hey! I’m a very likable person, y’know.”

“...”

He sets his laptop down leaning closer to you over where he was seated opposite you on the coffee table, clearly bored of citations for the time being. “Also, aren’t we friends, sweetheart? Technically I have three.”

You raise a brow, this was the first time Satoru had ever addressed the strange dynamic you two had. “Are we?” you ask, genuinely.

A deafening silence envelopes your living room. This was the first time you’d seen such a serious expression take over Gojo’s face as he answers, voice even, “I’m not sure.”

The atmosphere thickens with a charged tension, the weight of Gojo’s words lingering in the room. A spark flickers in his eyes. You feel like you could almost get whiplash from the contrast between the heated banter to where you two were now. Was it always so hot in this room?

You let out a strained laugh, attempting to diffuse the seriousness and go back to a trivial territory you were more familiar with. “I never thought the great Gojo Satoru would be uncertain about something.” Your eyes flicker unwillingly from his intense gaze to his worry-bitten lips.

The mischief returning to his gleaming eyes, he smirks “Uncertainty can be thrilling, don't you think, sweetheart?”

You don’t even know what to say to that - and you don’t have to. Because before you can respond, Gojo swiftly leans over the coffee table - catching your lips in a sudden, electrifying kiss.

Time stands still. A shiver runs down your spine as you realize that you didn’t want to push him away. At all. In fact, you grab a fistful of his soft locks, pulling him impossibly deeper into the kiss.

Pulling away mere millimeters, Gojo’s hot breath fanning your mouth as he whispers, “Told you the uncertainty is thrilling, sweetheart.”

“Shut up and kiss me.” you grumble, irritated because his lips ghosting yours was not enough.

Before you know it, Gojo has you pinned against the plush couch. His lips finding your, the kiss deepening as he yearns for that desperate connection - as if each breath depends on smothering you with dizzying kisses.

The room seems to shrink, right now only filled with the heated exchange of breaths and the feeling of Satoru’s lips searing into yours.

You think he tastes like caramel and uncertainty - yet, this time, you fall into the unknown with open arms. Wrapping your legs around his toned waist, your arms around his broad shoulders - bringing him to you so close you’d think the laws of physics were taking a coffee break.

It almost hurt.

The intensity of the moment only growing, the atmosphere in your homey apartment crackles with a tension that you knew in the back of your mind had been building for so long - ever since that party.

Your heartbeat echoes in your ears. You knew this would happen.

And a part of you needed it to.

His fingers trace a path along your jawline, leaving a trail of heat - you shudder, craving for more.

“Gojo, I want you.” you breathe out, words muffled by Satoru sucking sinfully on your lips.

He pulls away slightly, delicate strings of saliva still connecting him to you. Every fiber of his being resisting to part.

“Don’t call me that.” he purrs out, the intensity of his half-lidded stare sending a jolt straight down to your heated core. “It’s Satoru when we’re fucking, remember?”

Looking into his sultry eyes, for the first time ever you decide to heed what Satoru says. “S-Satoru, please.” you whimper, hips bucking up to meet his own. You can feel the large outline of his achingly hard cock straining against those stupidly overpriced trousers, pussy quivering in anticipation.

Now, there have been three times in his life that Satoru thinks he has died and gone to heaven. The first being when he discovered that the ramen joint by his dorm also had free Wi-Fi. Second, that first day in Advanced Quantum Physics when you snapped at him told him to shut the fuck up.

And finally, right now, as he’s got you needy and squirming underneath him - such pretty gasps of his name leaving your kiss-bitten lips.

God, navigating quantum physics is a walk in the park in comparison to what you put his heart through.

“Hmm, never in my life thought I’d see his view, sweetheart.” he whispers lowly into your ear, delighting in the goosebumps that erupt along your alluring body. How did he get so lucky?

Hastily pulling down your shorts, his mouth waters at your wet panties. Another prize for him, hm? Throwing them along with your panties to god-knows-where, Satoru drinks in the sight of your bare pussy - a privilege that he didn’t get in that godforsaken closet.

Ah, so ready and dripping for him already. Your slick glistens out of your heated entrance as you clench around nothing. “Aww, they’ve faded.” he whines, heart lurching at the lack of his marks from last time.

It’s alright, he can just make more.

Not one to waste time, with a bruising grip holding your hips steady, Satoru grinds his painfully hard cock into your needy cunt, savoring the pretty mewls that leave your mouth. The way your swollen pussy quivers against him makes him throw his head back, seeing stars already.

Nipping along your neck, leaving marks he knows you’ll have to cover up tomorrow. “Sit on m’face,” he murmurs into your skin.

“W-what?”

Pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along the valley of your breasts, Satoru breathes you in. Fuck, he prefers the smell of your skin to any scent in the world. “Sit- on- my- face.” he repeats, words punctuated with erotic kisses to your hardened nipples, tongue flicking them through the fabric of your clothes.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know?” you gasp. Yet, still shifting on that cramped couch. Why do you two always fuck in the most inconvenient places?

Satoru’s legs hang off the end of your couch as he lays on his back, you’d almost find the position funny - if it weren’t for you straddling his head.

His hot breath on your wet cunt sends waves of electricity though your entire body as you hover over his mouth. Your needy pussy right above where his mouth is, hesitating. Your slick oozes slowly through your swollen folds - drip! drip! drip! onto his awaiting tongue, brows furrowing and eyes rolling to the back of his head at your sweet juices.

“Mhm, and I hope that you’ll be the death of me.” he hums, tongue savoring your taste.

It’s the last thing said before Satoru surges forward, plunging mouth-first into your heated cunt.

Despite not being on a time crunch this time, Satoru doesn’t waste a moment teasing - he already has you splayed out and aching for him, what more could he want?

He bullies his tongue into your snug cunt, pushing past the first ring of muscle. You twitch around him, sweet moans spilling incessantly from your mouth. “Ah! Hngh- Satoru! Fuck s’good.”

Your sounds of pleasure going straight to his dick, he bucks into your hands. Ah, more. He needs your touch more.

The feeling of your plush walls clamping down on him only spurs him on further, fucking you at a ruthless pace. One hand gropes across your body, resting a thumb on your clit that rubs tight circles, making you grind down further into his mouth.

“Your pussy is so honest, sweetheart. She wants me so badly.” he murmurs, voice sending vibrations that make you let out a loud moan which he suspects your neighbors would be complaining about.

You were so perfect for him, Satoru thinks he might go insane.

You were definitely going insane.

Satoru shows no mercy, his abuse on your dripping cunt only speeding up at every buck of your hips into his tongue. It felt so fucking good.

Closing your eyes, his pressure on your core has you seeing spots behind your vision. You could feel the curl of his signature smirk against your folds as your pussy tries sucking him back in at every thrust. Too good to let him go. “Knew you loved this ‘big mouth’, hardass.” he murmurs.

Shit, you can’t be the only one acting so needy like this.

“What’re you doing, sweetheart?” Satoru drawls, voice muffled by your cunt as he feels the breeze of his lower abdomen hitting the heady air of your living room.

“Payback.” is all you mutter out as you fumble his trousers down his long legs. Curse these gyms. Curse squats. Why did he have to be so perfectly sculpted? An Adonis in his true form.

You can feel the saliva pooling in your mouth as his boxers come into view - rock-hard cock straining painfully against it A patch of pre-cum pools at his head - he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him. Hands shaky from the way Satoru’s incessant tongue was fucking into you, you shuffle his boxers down.

Satoru’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs. Fuck- how the hell were you supposed to take him? Life was really unfortunate - water was wet, and Gojo Satoru has a huge dick.

“S-sweetheart, you don’t have to-” he murmurs against your swollen pussy.

From all your times shutting up Gojo Satoru, this one might just be your favorite.

His words catch desperately in his throat as you spit out a pool of saliva onto Satoru’s furiously flushed head. A low hiss leaving him as you teasingly lick his sensitive slit.

Never one to back down from a challenge, Satoru attaches his lips with yours once more. He groans lowly into you, the stimulation making you yelp in surprise.

“So, it’s like that, huh?”

Satoru doesn’t have the time to ponder your words before you take in as much of his length as you can in one go. “Ah! Hah- Oh fuck, prez. Always knew you were a forceful woman.”

You moan at the slightly salty taste of his precum. Gagging around him, drool drips down the corner of your mouth as you try to take him in inch by fucking inch. It was so fucking messy.

Diving nose-deep in your cunt once again, Satoru continues the merciless pace of his tongue once more. Both your muffled moans fill the heated room, lost in the pleasure and the heat of the moment.

Shit, you knew by the way your walls clenched down on his tongue that you weren’t gonna last long. And judging by the urgent twitching of Satoru’s cock - he wasn’t going to either.

He fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth, your eyes watering as his tip hits the back of your throat. Ropes of spit and precum decorate your lips. Even the staunch part of you that never backs down for anyone cheers at being so used. It’s so fucking debauched.

Your hand moves down to massage his heavy balls, tugging and pulling at a rhythm that matches the rapid ministrations of his thumb on your swollen clit.

Mind spinning and pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming as you both lean closer and closer to your highs. With a final mewl around his thick cock, your juices are gushing all around Satoru’s mouth.

Your mind blanks as you cum, the only things registering being the tingles of your oversensitive pussy as Satoru rides you through your high on his tongue and the taste of Satoru as he cums in hot spurts in your mouth. Salty, with a hint of sweet - the flavor making your pussy twitch.

Fucking his seed into you, your mouth milks his cock. His cum dribbling down the corner of your mouth, all thoughts of dirtying your couch go out your brain when you hear the fucked out whines at the back of Satoru’s throat.

Fuck a refractory period, you wanted to hear that more.

You remove yourself from him with a lewd pop! Cum flowing smoothly down your throat, you lock eyes with Satoru over your shoulder. His jaw drops, pupils blown lustfully as your tongue sticks out - showing the way you’ve swallowed every single drop of his seed.

“Now, Satoru. I need you to fuck me with yours cock just as you did with your tongue.” your words still strained from your orgasm.

Wordlessly, Satoru nods, eyes shining - still reeling from the sinful sight of your bruised lips glossy with his cum - his cum that you swallowed as if it was a delicacy.

Meanwhile you were thinking that you should fuck Satoru more if it meant you got him to shut up and be pretty more often.

Slightly more clear-headed now, just as lustful.

Your couch creaks in protest as you shift positions to face Satoru once more. He seizes your lips in a passionate kiss, mouth attacking yours with a desperation for your essence.

Your head spins as you taste yourselves on each other, words tumbling out of your mouth in the haze, “Satoru, bed- now.”

But when has he not challenged you?

“Mhm, anything you say, prez.” he whispers raspily against your lips, still-hard cock teasingly dragging along your swollen folds.

“Satoru.”

“Fuck yes. Say m’name, sweetheart.” he groans out, throwing his head back against the armrest. Your slick pools all over Satoru’s thick head, dripping sensually down his length to where he gripped tightly at the base.

Swollen lips dropping into a small “oh”, he slides a ringed hand up his member, spreading your juices. Cock twitching carnally at the way your pussy was leaking all over him, he grits out, “Need to feel you around my cock now, sweetheart.”

So he does.

Thick head pressing into your tight entrance, a low growl leaves his throat at how sinfully tight you were. Fuck, he could just about pass out right now.

“S’tight, sweetheart. So good.” he fucks up into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips - impatience quickly waning. You yelp at each thrust, walls burning with the stretch of Satoru’s thick head.

You try to steady yourself as Satoru’s thrusts get deeper and deeper, nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders. In the midst of it all you still manage to impatiently slur out, “I-if you’re gonna fuck me then hah- fuck me like you mean it, Satoru.”

Oh, that did it.

Your words make the last bit of sanity Satoru had left snap.

In a swift movement, he sheaths his throbbing erection in your wet cunt completely. A gasp gets caught in his throat at the way your walls were clamping down on him in surprise.

He looks up at you, eyes half-lidded and a dangerously predatory glint in them that sends shivers down your spine. “Fuck me like I mean it, huh? You’re quite bossy, y’know that, prez?”

Before you can retort - and probably dig your grave deeper - he stands up in one fluid motion, your legs around his waist and cock still buried deep in your snug pussy. You moan at the change in angle, his tip now kissing your cervix so deliciously painfully. Shit, you feel so full.

Hands moving down to grope your ass firmly and support your weight, he grins lowly in your ear, “You’re lucky I love that part of you.”

The wall is cold as Satoru shoves your back against it. his body making the air leave your lungs as he presses into yours, ramming into you at a merciless pace. Your tight cunt clenches so tightly around him, as if to prevent him from leaving.

Each thrust into your warm core has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, brows furrowing in ecstasy. His lips capture yours once again in a rough dance that matches the cadence of his hips.

You mewl against his mouth at the feeling of his heavy balls stinging your skin as they smack your ass. The power behind each harsh thrust has you bouncing against the wall, legs pulling tighter around his toned waist to bully his cock impossibly deeper in you.

“Where- fuck! Where’s the bed?” he moans breathlessly against your lips, voice sounding as if each thrust of his pulsing cock into your plush walls sends him spiraling deeper into insanity.

“Down- down the hallway. Hngh- fuck, Satoru!” you not far behind.

Your mind is foggy, barely even registering as Satoru moves blindly towards your bedroom with powerful strides - not yet pulling out of you.

He doesn’t get very far before he’s got you sprawled over your bedroom floor, your carpet digging into you as his cock slams into your abused cunt with that feral pace he loves so much. Not even making it to the bed.

“Ah! Hah- Satoru, what happened to the bed?” you sputter out in-between uncontrollable moans.

“Too far. Hngh- need you now.” he answers around your breasts, teasing and tweaking your sensitive nipples.

“Wh-who’s irresistible now?” you manage to smirk, relishing in the huff of laughter that escapes him. Even now, you always did manage to one-up him.

“Mhm, you’ve always been irresistible, sweetheart.” he mutters, moving to press a chaste kiss against your forehead, not sure whether the words were even meant for you to hear.

And you know it’s just pussy-drunk talk, but right now you can’t help the way your cheeks heat up, heartbeat ringing in your ears.

Not sure how to respond to that, you pull him closer to you, allowing him to bury his burning face in the crook of your neck. Maybe right now neither of you needed to speak, your bodies doing enough talking as Satoru continues his relentless cadence.

Your hips bucking up to meet his, you whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room as Satoru moves down a hand to draw rough, little circles over and over your throbbing clit. It was all too much. “S-Satoru.”

“Me too, my sweetheart. Me too.” is all he gasps out, teeth digging into your neck at the pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Satoru’s tight balls twitch as they smack your ass, cock glistening with cum and slick. He sees stars behind his eyes - or maybe those were tears at the overstimulation. He really doesn’t know anymore.

Head spinning and thoughts racing with only Satoru Satoru Satoru, you’re very much in the same state.

“Satoru?” you whine out, tears clinging to your lashes.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You pull him into an intense kiss, pussy clamping down on him desperately as his lips brand yours - it sends you both over the edge.

Satoru thinks he sees heaven as he cums, and you were probably an angel.

Hot ropes of his thick cum paint your walls white, cunt quivering around him as you both ride out your climaxes together. A creamy ring forms around his base as he fucks his seed into you desperately, marking you so obviously as his. All thoughts of Plan B run out of your mind at the overstimulated whimpers leaving Satoru’s ruby lips.

His dick twitches inside you as his unforgiving thrusts slow down to shallow grinds of his hips, nothing more than to keep his cum inside of you as your highs bate.

Body collapsing onto yours, careful to not crush you with his weight, Satoru pulls you closer to him. And despite everything that happened this evening, he thinks that this might be what makes his ears burn red the most. Your body so vulnerably connected with his own. Just the two of you in this quiet world.

The silence feels intimate and fragile. Brain still hazy from your orgasms, you don’t think you’ve ever quite looked at your bedroom ceiling from his angle.

Strangely enough, Satoru’s warm weight on you feels comforting. Neither of you speak now. Nor do you speak when Satoru carries you to bed, searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe you clean with.

It’s only when he lingers at the foot of your bed - uncertain - that the silence is broken. “Get in, stupid.” you scoff, opening the covers invitingly.

Of course, an elated smile overtaking his face, Satoru jumps in your bed with enough force to send you both bouncing. It was childish. It was so ridiculous. It had you barking out a surprised laugh at his antics.

In your joy, you don’t even realize that Satoru has stopped moving - frozen, smile slipping off his face and staring at you with an unknown spark in his eyes.

“What?” you question, feeling strangely self-conscious.

White locks tousling as he shakes his head, he breathes, “It’s the first time I’ve made you laugh.” The words hang in the delicate atmosphere, tension so thick you think it could snap any moment.

You hide your face in your hands, palms clammy. “You- you make me sound like some sort of evil witch.” you stammer out, embarrassment pooling in your gut. The tension in the air dissipates, yet the intensity in Satoru’s gaze remains.

Satoru understands, smiling blindingly. He pulls your naked body to his, wrapping his arms tenderly around your waist as you both bury into the covers. “Well, more of a hardass than an evil witch.”

“Satoru?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You still have to finish your citations.”

A/N. Can be read as a standalone BUT part 2 planned for next longfic Sunday!

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

14K notes · View notes

nevvdrinksteaa · 1 month

Note

PLEASE Spencer answering a work call in the middle of sex??? Super smutty

just wanna say that this is my first request and it makes me feel special so thank you !!! hopefully you like this <3

pairing: spencer reid x reader

warnings: 18+ nsfw smut, porn with small plot, afab reader, fingering, p in v sex, post prison spence, riding, doggy style, and missionary (yall were busy), spitting kink !!, spanking (once?), face slapping (i’m not sorry), slight oral (f receiving), lots of pet names (baby, angel, pretty girl), let me know if i missed anything !!

word count: 1.8k (got a little carried away)

also note to everyone- y’all absolutely devoured my spencer post the other day, a little less than 800 notes last i checked, and i just want to say i was very caught off guard and appreciate it so much !!

+ i apologize for the overuse of commas & very limited vocabulary,, i feel like i used the same 10 words smh

+ NOT PROOF READ !!

~~~

“i was able to talk to the brass about getting the week off. the past few weeks have been tough and i think we all need a well deserved break.”

you were all gathered in the round table room for a meeting emily called. in the past two weeks, the team had been assigned three back to back cases; which meant three different unsubs, three different cities, and three different hotel rooms. you hadn’t slept in your own bed in fifteen days, already feeling giddy at the thought of snuggling up in your bed, binge watching mindless reality tv, and fueling yourself with nothing but sweet treats.

matt was the first to speak, already standing up gathering his things from the table, “as much as i love you all i’m going to rush home to the wife and kids, i miss their little faces”

you all followed suit, collecting all of your belongings and saying your goodbyes, all of you raving about your week off plans. you walked to your desk, grabbing your bag and keys. you walked towards the elevator, pressing the down button, watching it slowly fall from floor 10 to floor 9, before tapping your foot, slightly agitated about how long it seemed to be taking.

you heard footsteps heading your way, small taps on sneakers on the slick marble floor, before felt a slight nudge at your side “you know, being mad at it won’t make it work any faster”

you chuckle looking up, making eye contact with spencer before giving him a small grin. “i’m just really ready to get home.”

the elevator doors open, spencer waved his hand up, allowing you to go first, before following you in and pressing the main lobby button. “you in such a rush because you have a hot date to get to?”

you looked up at him and grinned, you felt spencer’s hand move to your back, rubbing the center in small circles with your thumb. you felt your face get hot and you allowed yourself to slightly lean into his touch. the elevator stopped at the lobby, a small chime signaling the doors opening, and you felt spencer’s hand fall back to his side before you both stepped out of the box.

you both made your way to the parking garage, spencer walking you to your car before he headed towards the station to take the subway. you got to your car, unlocking it and throwing your purse inside before looking up at him with a slight smirk “text me when you’re on your way”

he shook his head and laughed as he gave you a small wave goodbye and headed towards the subway.

~~~

it had only been three days since you were given the week off, enjoying the company of spencer in your bed two thirds of those nights. he texted you the same night as the encounter in the parking garage, eager to see you in a private setting.

“look how pretty you look sitting on my cock”

you were straddling him, your head thrown back with both hands on his shoulders as you tried to keep a quick pace. he had his hands pressed deep into your hips, helping you move in a fluid motion. you felt him hit your sweet spot every time you made your way down, letting out tiny whimpers at the feeling.

“i love when you use me like this, getting yourself off like a good girl”

you couldn’t hold in the loud moan you had been holding, feeling your stomach flutter at his words. you felt a slight burning in your thighs and you knew spencer’s shoulders held tiny crescent shapes from how tight your grip had become. you felt one of spencer’s hands move to your clit, rubbing small circles on the bundle of nerves.

he grabbed your chin, making you look him in the eyes. you looked at him and grinned, fucked out and eager before you felt a sudden surge against your cheek before he let his hand rest there, rubbing his thumb to ease the pain.

“you gonna cum for me angel?”

“fuck- yes spence, i’m so- so close” you couldn’t even hear the words coming out of your mouth, your heartbeat beating so loud your hearing going out.

you moved your head down pushing your forehead to spencer’s with your eyes tight.

“cum for me baby, wanna feel you tighten around my cock.”

you felt that tight feeling in your stomach, the mix of his skilled fingers and his thick cock rubbing against your walls caused your breath to stop in your throat, your release making you see stars. you stopped your movement, breathing heavily as you leaned down into spencer. you felt soft kisses on your head and face, peppering you all over.

“did so good for me baby, love watching you use me”

you smiled against his neck, starting to do your own kissing. you felt his breath hitch when you found the sweet spot behind his ear, the small mole behind it always guiding you to the exact spot. you took your time, sucking and biting at the spot, grinding your hips, ready to keep going.

spencer gave your thigh a quick tap, before telling you to bend over. you were quick to roll over, propping yourself up on your hands and knees before slowly wiggling yourself back and forth to him.

you felt a sharp pain on your ass, a slight stinging feeling before you felt a tight grip run through your hair. you felt your body being pulled tightly to his, his chest flushed against your back. he moved one of his hands to your chest, a his fingers glazing your nipple, his other moving to your neck, pushing his thumb and middle finger to just the right spot to apply pressure.

“i let you use me, now it’s my turn to use you angel” spencer had leaned down to your ear, kissing your jaw before pushing you back down onto the bed.

spencer leaned down slightly, gripping your ass with both hands before spreading them. he let a trail of spit fall to your eager hole, before he rubbed it onto your pussy, giving your clit extra attention.

you moaned and pushed back into his touch before you felt him enter you quick and unforgiving, your ass jiggling with every move of his hips.

“fuck- so fucking deep” you arched your back, begging your body to somehow take him deeper. you felt his firm calloused hands rub against your back before settling into a position on your hips, his thumbs pressing small bruises into your skin.

“taking me so fuck-”

spencer’s voice was cut off by his phone ringing, vibrating on the nightstand beside you, and you felt his hips slow down, letting out a soft sigh as he was considering stopping completely.

you felt him hesitate but needed him to keep going, pushing your hips back into his trying to keep both of your focus.

“spence, please don’t stop” your voice still unsteady, “just ignore it”

spencer pulled out of you, and you let out a whine as the loss of contact. you rolled yourself over, making yourself comfortable on the pillows expecting him to walk away to return the call.

instead he leaned back over you and pulled you into a deep kiss, holding your face in both hands. your lips parting slightly when you felt his tongue lick your bottom lip, allowing your tongues to meet.

spencer grabbed his dick, rubbing over your clit before he lined himself up with you, gasping when he pushed himself in.

“you’re so fucking perfect angel”

he pulled away, lifting your legs up to your shoulders and latching his hands to your thighs. he found himself moving slow and deep, like he was trying to memorize the way you felt around him.

you moved your hands to play with your nipples, rolling the hard buds between your finger tips. he bent down, pushing his weight into you, almost like he was folding you. he pooled spit into his mouth before he let it go to your clit, moving his hand to the bundle of nerves.

“want you to cum again for me pretty girl, want one more before i fill you up”

you let out a moan, sighing before you went to speak “gonna fill me-”

you were cut off by the phone ringing again, the buzzing sound making you forget your thoughts. spencer dropped your thighs and leaned over before giving you a quick kiss before he reached over to grab phone.

“spencer do not answer that”

he moved his finger to his lips, making a shushing motion “it’s emily”

you rolled your eyes, ready to kick him out and finish yourself off before heading to bed when you felt him move again. he moved his hand to cover your mouth before answering the phone.

“doctor reid”

you felt yourself get wetter, the sound of your slick filling the room, your moan mumbled behind his hand. spencer’s motion was relentless, his pace quick and brutal, jabbing your sweet spot with every push.

“i thought we were getting the week off”

your leg was lifted up, making the angle even deeper and you felt your eyes roll back, out of pleasure or annoyance you couldn’t tell. there was no way you were getting called in.

“i can get a hold of her for you, i remember her mentioning something about having a date this week”

you grinned, giggling behind his hand before spencer moved the phone to hold it on his shoulder, letting his now free hand to move back down. he never took his eyes off you, holding a shit eating grin as he felt you squeezing him tighter, squirming at how close you were. you furrowed your brows and pinched your eyes shut.

“i’ll be there in an hour”

you heard the phone beep, signaling the call was disconnected. spencer moved his hand away from your mouth down to your neck, cursing as he heard you gasp.

“did so good for me pretty girl”

his hips stopped deep inside you as you felt his cock twitch, filling you up. he groaned as he felt you cumming again, keeping his thumb in place to help your orgasm finish and you let a loud moan out in response. spencer gave you a long kiss, nipping at your bottom lip before he trailed his lips down your neck. he pulled himself out of you, grinning at the soft sigh you let out. he kept his lips on your body, trailing them down your stomach before reaching your thighs and nipping at the sensitive skin.

he moved his tongue and licked a long strip up your pussy, sucking on your clit before pulling up to look at you, shit eating grin on his face. “we’ve got roughly 30 minutes, that’s enough time for me to help you clean up, right angel?”

#nev writes #prison spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds

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lxnarphase · 5 months

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━━ ❝ i'll give you the fire i keep inside ❞

up to the challenge : ⌞no nut november⌝ edition [ pt 2 - pt 3 - pt 4 ]

☾₊‧⁺...ft. : gojo satoru + geto suguru

☾₊‧⁺...cw : pussy eating, praise kink, begging, premature ejaculation, clothed sex, whiny reader (gojo), smug reader (geto), satoru overestimating himself, suguru 'just the tip' geto

☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : it's nowhere near november, but i need to write this. it's based off an old post of mine from 4 years ago! so, i have no excuse 🖤

✧ g. satoru lasts : 2 days

oh, satoru is so confident that he'll easily make it through the entirety of november. the moment he coos to you about how excited he is to participate in 'no nut november' as a challenge against suguru, he's walking around with his chest puffed out. however, he doesn't take into account that you'd be a little upset after he tells you, thinking you have to go a whole month without sex with your boyfriend. but everyone knows satoru is the best boyfriend, right? he'd neeeever let his pretty lil' mochi feel unsatisfied. so, on the second day of November, he's got you up on the kitchen counter, mouth buried between your thighs as he practically devours your cunt, messily licking and sucking at your clit as his eyes roll back just from the taste of you. after all, there's no way he'd lose this way!

it had only been two days since satoru had fucked you, how were you this wet and needy? you were dripping down his chin, soaking his fucking face, and god, he was in heaven. "c'mon, baby, grind that clit into my mouth," he fucking whines, kissing your pussy between slurps, hands holding you spread open for him to keep testing you. satoru's so hard, it hurts, his cock rubbing and twitching against the rough fabric of his sweatpants, but he couldn't touch, he wouldn't let himself. he'd be fine, all he needed was to make sure he made his baby cum. "hhf, 't-toru, 'toruuuu, i-i miss you, i miss youuu," you pitifully whine, pretty eyes filling with tears as you grew closer and closer to cumming all over his face. but just hearing you say that you miss him when it hasn't even been a fucking week almost makes satoru cum, almost. "baby, babyyy, don't say that shit," satoru whimpers, about to pull away from your dripping slit, dizzy from your words. but you don't let him, no, not when you're this close. with the cutest little huff, you look him right in his pretty blue eyes and grab a fistful of his hair, smashing his mouth right back against your cunt as you cry his name. and oh, the noise he lets out against your pussy feels so gooddd, feeling his tongue desperately licking up your cum. god, you were practically suffocating him. all that Satoru could process was you, you, you. jesus, he didn't think he'd be able to leave you alone the rest of the month, not when just going two days got you this desperate...he really was fucking you that good that you got addicted, huh? it's okay because honestly? he missed your pussy so fucking much. "'toru, satoruuu, p-please, i-i don't like this challenge anymore, miss when you stuff me w-with your cum," you whine as you ride out the last waves of your orgasm, giving him one last tug into your pussy so his mouth was right over your clit. have you always been this fucking whiny and demanding? god, satoru couldn't remember. but, you didn't realize how seriously all the tugging and those filthy, desperate words of yours would affect him. hell, he didn't know how badly it would affect him. once he separates himself from you, he's avoiding eye contact, and he's getting red. embarrassed. flustered. all it took was a quick glance down to see what the issue was. "b-baby, you...i just...how—" "'toru, did you cum in your pants?"

✧ g. suguru lasts : 2.5 weeks

the only reason suguru decided to participate in this was because satoru roped him into it. not that he didn't think he could do it, but because he knew satoru was going to lose against him. he's so thankful that you're nothing but supportive, eager for him to win this challenge with the promise of a reward of his choosing once he made it to December 1st. it's honestly not that hard. as long as he's able to still be affectionate with you, suguru is content. sure, sometimes he has to stop his imagination, but otherwise, he's fine. at least, that's until he comes home to you wearing the cutest purple thigh highs with little skulls on them. it starts off with suguru pulling you closer, making you stand between his legs as his hands rub up and down your plush thighs...but next thing you know, your legs are over his shoulders as he drags his cock up and down your slit.

"just—just the tip, okay? i can't put anymore in, princess." "suguruuuuu, just! put it in! stop teasing!" those pretty legs of yours would always be his downfall, suguru could never resist them. there wasn't anything even sexual about it, but just seeing how they squeezed your thighs so perfectly...he couldn't help himself. but if he only let himself put the tip of his dick inside that tight little hole of yours, he'd be fine...yeah, he just needed a small feel, and he'd be fine. without any more hesitation, suguru slowly sunk into your puffy pussy, letting out a shaky groan as his head fell down onto your shoulder. shit, shit, shit, it was only the tip, but you felt so good, too fucking good. "g-god, why's this cunt so wet and warm, baby? it's not fair," suguru hissed, lifting his head to look down to where you both were connected. "s'not my fault you wanted to do this dumb challenge," you hummed, a little smug smile on your face. "stop listenin' to satoru, you'll get stupid like him." it made him laugh, you were so amused by him barely holding himself together...and he couldn't blame you, he wasn't the type to break so easily... "s-suguruuu, wait, you said just the tip, that's—suguuuu!" suguru let out the most scandalized gasp when he realized his entire cock was being hugged by your soft, hot walls. it was so cute, though, how you tried to help him, to let him know so he didn't lose. such a sweetheart, weren't you? but, suguru was too far gone. he had slowly begun inching himself inside of you, not even realizing it until it was too late. not being able to stop his hips from moving, thrusting in and out of you, creating a little ring of cream around the base of his cock as his dick dragged against those soft spots inside you that made you keen his name. "oh, princess, angel, you're so sweet, you know that? s-shit, listen to that pussy...she missed this? she missed the feeling of her sugu inside? hm? fuuuck, fuck it, 'm-'m gonna give you what you need, baby, d-don't worry," he says in a needy rasp, pressing his forehead against yours, giving you a delirious little grin. yeah, suguru knew he was going to lose today...he'd be damned if he didn't cum all over this sweet cunt. all because of some stupidly cute socks.

#gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #geto suguru smut #geto smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #𖤐 ── lxnarworks.

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anantaru · 2 months

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⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ paint my skin red and call me yours

synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ your boyfriend scaramouche secretly loves it when you mark him up // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡

cw. placing hickeys on kuni while riding him <3, marking up, whiny kuni, a/n. repost/rewrite from an old fic, fem! reader ♡

"hey, wait— don't do that!" it almost hurts when scaramouche tells you to please please please stop marking him up even though he secretly loved it yet was too proud to tell you.

you wish to tempt out every oh so little reaction whenever you browsed your teeth along his red dimmed skin, his face tinged with clear desperation— it's a lot shinier now too, laying down in front of you.

and those hot fingers digging daggers into your hips— the very ones that sweetly branded your skin with crescent formed shapes as your body worked up and down in expressing motions on your boyfriends erection.

"you don't like when i do this?" a mutter crosses your lips when his world spins harder the second you drag your soaked cunt down, your walls trapping his shaft inside a tight, wet compression.

right now, kuni feels like his cock was about to explode, the sensations you were capable to coax out of him were bone shuddering, although he's careful to lock his whines behind sealed lips and clenched teeth.

even now, as you're riding him into the mattress hard, he still attempts to grasp onto any kind of control, hilarious, really.

"no.. i do, fuck, i love it," he almost whines, then moans, "but, j-just—"

scaramouche truly couldn't wait any longer nor does he know how to elaborate himself anymore— how does one tell another that it's actually driving him fucking mad when you claim him like that, when it's you for once pressing hickeys on his body until he's wholly coated and sticked up with red splotches and messy saliva stains.

perhaps he thought being in denial was the right way to go, but another moan spreads past his parted lips and you continue your work proudly, swallowing down the haziness of pleasure as you claw yourself on him, your pulsing walls slicking up his girth as you're repeatedly shoving your hips into him.

scaramouche secretly enjoyed himself and so did you, especially how fine and skilled your pussy was sucking down on him tonight— his cock swelling while the pre stacked up in you, rubbing back and forth his stiffened member as the echoes of lewd sounds loaded the air with fine lined electricity.

"fuck— fuck, please do more!" it's over now, "do one more.. o-on my neck," and his voice had bundled up enough courage to step up a confident octave, "do more of this, please!"

he begins to frantically rut himself upwards your warmth in needy smacks, hands urging along your shaking thighs as he was slapping himself so far up your warm cunt that you're certain you're about to release on him as well— yet the thought, that little inkling that he would fill you up with his creamy cum made you hold onto it a little longer.

just so you could climax together in the end, the hot wave of kuni shooting you full of his sticky cum certainly had your sweet pussy drool all over him, messily, until your lower half was shuddering and all sore of him.

#genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact drabbles #scaramouche x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer smut #genshin drabbles #wanderer x you

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honnelander · 9 months

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go fish! part 2

guyssss i did NOT expect this little series to blow up. y'all are amazing! i'm turning into a Sanji writing blog and am i mad about it? no lmao i received a couple of requests and i'll work on them as soon as i can. i'm really in the zone rn so i'll ride this wave as long as i can. if you want to be a part of the taglist for whenever i post new Sanji content, lmk. i hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: none

word count: 2.8k

pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader

summary: after being humiliated by Usopp earlier, reader stays in her room to decompress. however, she gets a visitor.

prequel part 1 part 3 part 4 masterlist

taglist: @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @jovialcat123

Mortified. That’s how you felt. Still.

Ever since you ‘forfeited’ from finishing your Go Fish card game with Usopp a couple of hours ago, you had taken your glass of water that Sanji had poured for you and boarded up in your shared room with Nami, refusing to come out due to “heat exhaustion”.

Poor Luffy, ever the golden hearted captain, was immediately worried for your wellbeing as soon as he heard that but after multiple reassurances from you and getting up off of your hammock multiple times to prove you were in fact, just fine, he relented from wanting to stop by the nearest island so he could find a doctor for you. Usopp had managed to convince him as well that all you needed was some water, alone time, and that you would be fine by dinnertime.

You rubbed your eyes as you let out a sigh, vowing to yourself that the next time you wanted some time by yourself, you should just take a bath or something, since any other excuse would cause someone on the crew (Luffy) to lose their mind at the thought of someone not feeling well.

You readjusted yourself, sitting more upright, as you downed the last of your water, it being warm by this point since it had been poured by Sanji hours ago.

Sanji. Ugh.

Your heart fluttered once again at the mere thought of him, but that flutter was immediately replaced by a wave of crashing embarrassment at the thought of the afternoon’s sequence of events. What had happened earlier wasn’t even anything that groundbreaking or special, but to you? It was everything. It wasn’t common practice in your life for the object of your affections to be so kind towards you, so thoughtful, to read and anticipate your needs before you even knew they were even there. But Sanji? He was all of that and more. And you didn’t even know him for that long! You’ve all been a part of the straw-hat crew for 5 months at this point and it felt silly to admit to yourself that you had developed a crush on one of your crewmates in that short amount of time.

And having feelings for your crewmate? Someone who you literally couldn’t get away from since you all were trapped on a ship together (not that you would ever want to be away from him or anyone else for that matter, besides Usopp, but still), it felt morally wrong. You guys were all a team. Sure, you all were off to sail around the world and chase dreams, but achieving all of that required teamwork and trust, and that was hard to do if two of those people were caught up with matters of the heart every hour of every day.

Like, what if things didn’t work out in the end? Would you really want to put the crew’s dynamic at stake just because you thought the blonde guy was cute? No, you wouldn’t. It would be selfish so you would never dare to put yourself or Sanji in that position. No matter how much you liked him.

So as much as it pained you, you could never tell Sanji how you feel. You would never cross that line of being a ‘professional pirate’ into something more, like a pirate wife. Or a pirate chef’s wife.

It definitely didn’t help that freaking Usopp of all people on the crew knew about your affections for Sanji. Ugh, you groaned. He was the absolute worst person to know about it too. Why did he have to figure it out? Why did he have to be the one that had put two and two together to equal four? That your random bouts of awkwardness and shyness plus ‘heart eyes’ and blushes whenever Sanji was around equaled to you having a forbidden crush on the crew’s chef? It was embarrassing. And complicated.

He loved to stir the pot too, so whenever he could tease you for it when you both were alone or in front of a clueless Sanji, he would. You remembered the kiss he had shared with Kayla back when the straw-hats had acquired the Going Merry, so you definitely jabbed him right back when you had had enough, since part of you felt guilty for it since Kayla was thousands of miles away and Sanji lived on this ship with you. Your situations were slightly similar but completely different.

Also, completely different in the way that him and Kayla were basically dating at this point, albeit long distance, and had shared a kiss while you could barely sustain eye contact that lasted more than 5 seconds with Sanji.

You were hopeless.

“Knock, knock,” a familiar accented voice came through the closed door. “Y/n? Are you awake?”

"Sanji?” you blurted out in complete surprise.

Shit. You weren’t mentally prepared to see him just yet. At all. You were still replaying the interaction you both had earlier in your head, your overthinking mind going over every minute detail to figure out if Usopp’s careless teasing had given away your affections.

Usopp, you mentally ground out. You were going to kill him. Sanji had never stopped by your room before so what on earth was he doing here now?

Suddenly, a thought struck you like a bolt of lightning and made your stomach drop fifty miles below sea level: if Sanji had specifically stopped by your room just to gently let you down, that no, in fact he did not feel the same way about you, that he only thought of you as a member of the crew and nothing more....then yeah, you were definitely going to kill Usopp and throw him overboard.

Before you could mentally plot out more details on Usopp's murder, the door opened and the straw-hat chef’s blonde head appeared. His eyes quickly scanned Nami’s empty hammock on the room’s left side before turning his head to the right, his blue eyes immediately finding your surprised ones, a (relieved?) smile lighting up his face at the sight of you.

“So, I take it you’re awake?” Sanji asked in a light, teasing tone but not making an effort to move himself away from the doorway.

“Uh, y-eah,” you stuttered out in surprise as you just stared at him dumbfounded. You still couldn’t figure out why he was here.

Sanji continued to lock eyes with you, making your cheeks flush the longer you both stared at each other, and your palms sweat as the silence stretched on, making the tension in the air become thicker by the second. He blinked, his eyes darting to the side in confusion, raising an eyebrow as he asked, “May I come in?”

“OH! Yes, of course- sorry,” you stuttered as you waved him inside, sitting up in your hammock and mentally face palmed yourself. Of course, Sanji was waiting on you to invite him inside. Like always, he was acting like a true gentleman. “Please, come in. Have a seat. Sorry, that was rude of me. Make yourself at home.”

Sanji stood up to his full height and walked into your room with an easy smile and a small laugh, closing the door behind him. “Ah, don’t ever apologize y/n. You could never be rude to me,” Sanji rebuttalled and waved off your apology as he looked around and took in your very plain and basic shared room with Nami.

Your room, or side of the room more specifically, wasn’t much to brag about considering you really didn’t have much to your name but for now, it was home to you. Your side consisted of your hammock, a wooden barrel next to it to act as a makeshift nightstand that housed your only book, a journal, and a lamp, along with an empty wooden crate to act as a makeshift seat and another to hold some of your other clothes and small travel bag. Nami’s side was similar to yours but had a touch more personality as she hung up some maps she found at various markets and drew up herself on her wall.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling a tad self-conscious about the lack of things in your room considering your current guest was dressed, as usual, to the nines in his signature black suit and blue and white striped shirt complete with a skinny black tie. “Sorry for the sad state of my room-”

“Sad?” Sanji stopped admiring your room and snapped his gaze to look at you. His eyebrows pulled together as another confused smile adorned his features. “Why would you say that? Your room isn’t sad, I like it. It’s a reflection of you,” his next words came out softer, “and I think that’s beautiful.”

You could feel heat crawling up your neck at his words as you busied yourself with placing the empty glass in your hand on your barrel nightstand. There was no way Sanji was calling you beautiful, he was just commenting on your room. With Nami. On your shared room that owed any ounce of ‘personality’ to the ship’s navigator because it was obvious you literally brought nothing special to this room whatsoever.

You stopped yourself from spiraling into ‘I don’t bring anything special to the straw-hats, I don’t know why they keep me around’ thoughts because now wasn’t the time to think about any of that. Those dark thoughts were reserved when you couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night.

As you placed the glass on the nightstand, you asked, “So, what brings you all the way to my room? Aren’t you usually prepping for dinner around this time?”

Sanji’s eyes followed your hand and lit up when he saw the sole book on your nightstand. “Oh, a book? I didn’t know you liked to read.” His megawatt smile lit up a couple of notches as his eyes sparkled, he looked like he had just learned one of the universe’s greatest mysteries as he took a seat near you on an empty crate. “What book is that?”

“Oh, that?” You mentally deflated at the fact you now had to tell Sanji about your favorite book, “It’s Pride and Prejudice.”

You weren’t ashamed of having that book specifically, you loved it and it was your favorite book of all time, you had lost count at how many times you had read it at this point, but it was the fact that you now had to share this part of yourself with the guy you fancied. Guys normally scoffed and turned their nose up at romance book and romantic things, so you were bracing for Sanji to scoff and laugh at you like all the other guys did (like even Zoro and Usopp did when they first saw you reading it) but it never came.

Instead, Sanji’s smile remained bright. “Ah, so you’re a lover of classic romances? Pride and Prejudice? Romeo and Juliet?”

Immediately, you smiled, finding yourself instantly comfortable suddenly whenever you got to talk about one of your favorite things. “Absolutely. I don’t think there’s a problem big enough out there that love can’t solve. Family backgrounds? Wealth and status? At the end of the day, none of that stuff matters. What matters is if two people love each other.”

Sanji stayed quiet for a moment, looking into your eyes with a twinkle of an emotion that you couldn’t decipher. It made your heart skip a beat. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, never breaking eye contact. “I agree.”

You swallowed. “You like this stuff too? Have you read Pride and Prejudice?”

Sanji blinked and that indescribable emotion he had in his eyes was gone. His smile remained, however, and became sheepish as he held up his hands, “Ah ok, you caught me. I’ve never read the full thing, but I know the main parts of the story. My favorite part that I did read though, was the first dinner with Mr. Collins and he complimented the Bennets on their ‘excellent boiled potatoes’.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head slightly as you teased, “I should’ve known that the chef of the Going Merry’s favorite part of the book is when food is discussed!”

The blonde cook held his hands up again with a good-natured laugh, “Ah, you got me!” His face softened as he asked, “What about you?" He nodded towards the book. "What’s your favorite part?”

You paused for a second as you mulled the question over. “Well, I'm not sure if you know about this part since you never read the book...”

“Try me,” he encouraged softly.

Your face turned to the side, your eyes looking at the wooden wall to your right, unable to bring yourself to look at Sanji as you told him your favorite part of your favorite book. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and calm your nerves, your voice becoming quiet as you told him, “My favorite part is...when Mr. Darcy barges in on Elizabeth for the first time, while she’s at her friend Charlotte’s house writing a letter. He had come to practice ‘conversating’ with her since he admitted that it wasn’t something he was good at and she had told him to practice it. So, Mr. Darcy just barged in and they had one of the most painfully awkward conversations ever...and he did all that just because he loves her. He did something he hated and was bad at, and opened himself up to embarrassment just because he wanted to improve and be better for her. It’s so romantic and beautiful.”

The air was quiet after your mini monologue and for a moment, nothing could be heard except for their quiet breathing and the occasional crash of the ocean from outside your small window.

Part of you worried that your little rambling had bored Sanji, so when you finally looked at him, imagine your surprise when you found him leaning in towards you, hands clasped, elbows resting on his knees and his eyes watching you, completely engaged. It was like he was hanging onto your every word.

Sanji scanned your face for a moment, the corner of his lips curling upwards as he said, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not familiar with that part in the book,” and before you could open your mouth to bring yourself down, he continued, “but, that doesn’t mean your answer is wrong.” He leaned back and slapped his hands against his thighs, “Hell, it’s a much more insightful answer than mine!” He laughed. “I just liked how they were poking some fun at boiled potatoes.”

You laughed with him because yes, that part in the book also made you laugh as well. But at the mention of food, you realized that you still didn’t know why Sanji was here in the first place. Wasn’t he normally prepping for dinner at this time? He had to be running behind schedule at this point.

“Why are you here, Sanji? Isn’t it almost time for dinner?”

“Yeah, it is actually but I heard you weren’t feeling well so I wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re feeling alright and see if you have any special requests for dinner?”

You couldn’t help the slight smile that overtook your face, trying to hide the blush at the fact that he was kind enough to check in on you and offer to practically be your own personal chef for the evening.

You hummed for a moment, acting like you were deep in thought before asking with a raised eyebrow, "And what would you say if I requested some boiled potatoes?”

The smile that lit up the chef’s face was priceless. He had never looked more beautiful. “To that, I would say ‘Absolutely. If that’s what the missus wants, then that is what the missus will get.’”

Missus. There it was again. You felt all warm inside whenever he called you that, it made you feel like he was your husband and that you were his wife. But that wasn’t the case. Sanji definitely must have called other women that before. You weren’t special to him, he was just being polite.

You swallowed down your emotions, putting your sudden wave of sadness away for later, putting on a small smile. “Then that sounds perfect. I would like to formally request some ‘excellent boiled potatoes’ as a side for dinner, please.”

If Sanji noticed your sudden change in mood, he didn’t show it. Instead, he grinned as he said, “Excellent choice, Madam. Boiled potatoes, coming right up.” As he stood up and made his way towards your door, Sanji did one of the most unexpected things that nearly knocked the wind out of you. With his left hand on the doorknob he said, “And don’t worry, Madam. I’ll sprinkle in a little bit of extra love in there,” he turned and winked at you, “just for you.”

With that, Sanji left your room, gently closing the door behind him, leaving you completely dumbstruck in your room, your mouth agape and body frozen.

Did Sanji just say he loved you?

You shook your head, because there was no way he did, right? He said he’d ‘sprinkle in some extra love’ into your potatoes, not 'I love you". You weren’t a chef, maybe that was a euphemism for something.

You sighed.

Those better be some good boiled potatoes.

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yuwuta · 5 months

Text

*TEST DRIVE — YUUTA OKKOTSU

❝I WILL NEVER LEAVE BY YOUR SIDE, DON’T YOU KNOW YOU GOT A RIDE OR DIE

pairings. okkotsu/reader, uhhh implied maki/nobara and sort of itadori/fushiguro but that’s not so important for now

warnings, themes. non-curse/modern au, marriage of convenience au, i thought long and hard about who would fit this trope best and all i can say is that i didn’t really pick just one in the end, so if this spirals in a wedding/marriage playlist, you’ve been warned, um… sort of implied possessive behavior on yuuta’s end but it’s only teased for now :)

word count. 2.5k i can yap about him all day

playing. test drive/ariana grande, going crazy/exo, heart of glass/blondie, idea/taemin, tipsy/chloe x halle

“I just heard the funniest joke from Inumaki,” Nobara says, welcoming herself into your apartment. You’re not surprised, and continue with your dessert preparations. Yuuji, to your left, spares her a wave, before going back to diligently preparing the vegetables.

Maki is the only one to respond by turning slightly in her seat to raise an eyebrow at Nobara when she walks up to the island, “Since when do you think Toge is funny?”

“Not usually,” Nobara admits, taking the neighboring open seat. She crosses her arms atop the counter, and squints at you, “But he surprised me this time.”

Your eyes fidget to Maki, who seems equally confused by Nobara’s unnerving stare, then to Yuuji, who appears none the wiser, because he happily chirps, “Well, I wanna hear it! Tell us, Kugisaki!”

“He said that it was soooo kind of you to share your anniversary date with Yuuta and have us all over for dinner,” Nobara drawls, “Then I got confused, of course—but then I thought, ‘Maybe they’re secretly together and I just didn’t know. Wouldn’t be a huge surprise.’”

You flinch at that, “What do you mean that wouldn’t be a huge sur—”

“This is the funniest part, though,” Nobara squints, “He said that you’re actually married, and he meant that today is your wedding anniversary. He was pretty convincing, though. He’s very committed to the bit—even challenged me to ask you at dinner, but I figured I’d straighten it out now,” she drawls, reaching over to steal a cucumber slice from Yuuji’s station, “You’re not actually married to Yuuta, right?”

You pause, for too long. Maki’s disbelief shifts from Nobara to you, morphing into a threatening glare that makes you chuckle nervously. Yuuji keeps turning his head between you and Nobara, waiting for one of you to crack.

It’s not her. “Okay… define married,” you mumble.

Nobara all but jumps across the island, standing up and slamming her palms on the counter top. “What do you mean ‘define married’—there’s only one definition!” Yuuji frantically sweeps his preciously sliced vegetables out of her range. “You’re either married to Okkotsu or you’re not, which is it?”

You pause again. Too long this time.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Maki says, “It’s true? Toge says that shit all the time, how he can ‘still hear wedding bells’ when you two are around. Oh, I’m going to be sick.”

“Wait, you’re married?” Yuuji quips, “Since when? You should have told me, I would have gotten you a present!”

“Okay, okay—enough!” you yell, taking a step back, “It’s… true, but it’s not what you think. Yuuta and I are legally married, but we’re not together together.”

Nobara reaches to flick you on the forehead, “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means, we’re married on paper only,” you explain, strategically placing your knife in the sink, far out of Maki and Nobara’s reach.

“Say more words,” Maki demands, “Now.”

You sigh. Even Yuuji has paused his preparations, blinking at you with those big, wide eyes, and you know for sure there’s no way out of this now.

“It happened four years ago. I—”

Despite being the one who asked you to say more, Maki is the first to cut you off, incredulous, “Four years? You’ve been married to that beanstalk for four years and neither one of you twigs thought to mention it?”

“Maki, let her finish,” Yuuji pitches in for you, reaching a comforting hand out to your shoulder, “Maybe she was dying and needed Okkotsu-senpai to sign her insurance papers so the government didn’t sweep her away! I saw that in a K-Drama once,” he smiles proudly. Nobara pinches her face in disgust, immediately refuting and calling Yuuji an idiot for believing everything he sees on TV.

“Honestly, that’s not too far off. I’m not dying—and neither is Yuuta,” you hastily correct the worried faces peering at you, “But he was sick as a kid, and long story short is something got fucked up with his insurance when his parents died. It wasn’t a big deal, at first, but it spiraled into a bunch of issues, the biggest being the threat of taking his parents’ house away from him.”

Nobara pulls back, crossing her arms. “Why didn’t Gojo just do something then? That idiot has more than enough money to spare for some petty hospital bill, even with twenty years of interest.”

“He did,” you assure her, “But then the house became its own problem. His parents didn’t leave the deed in his name, and the community board tried to say that Yuuta had no assets and wasn’t a favored candidate for their neighborhood, even if he was their son.”

“That’s bullshit,” Maki interjects.

“Yeah, totally not fair,” Yuuji pouts, “That’s his dead parents’ house and they wanted him to prove himself?”

“Pretty much,” you sigh, “Basically marriage is something that helped prove his eligibility… plus some doctored philanthropic donations on Gojo’s end, and letters of recommendation from Shoko and her co-workers.”

Nobara tuts her bottom lip out. “I don’t know, I’m not buying it.”

“No, it makes sense. I’m sure by now all his parents’ neighbors are a bunch of uptight, old heads who didn’t want some kid throwing parties nearby,” Maki argues, “But once they hear he’s a young, married, nurse with a side hustle in philanthropy, I’m sure those geezers welcomed him with open arms. Sounds like some shit my family would do, too.”

Nobara hums, factoring in Maki’s evaluation. “Okay fine. Yuuta marries you, he gets his parents’ house back and probably commits insurance fraud too,” she settles, “But what about you?—You said this was mutually beneficial, so what did you get out of it?”

You probably should talk to Yuuta about revealing all the details of your marriage to your friends, but you knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. Yuuta’s parents’ death and the issues that came along with it weren’t a secret at the time, but your problems are something you kept private. It’s a miracle you’ve gone this long under the radar, and you know Nobara isn’t going anywhere with unanswered questions.

“Permanent residency status,” you tell her, “Yuuta’s a citizen, so in marrying him, all my problems about finding a job in six weeks after graduation disappeared.”

“But… you got a job?” Yuuji questions, head tilted.

“Yeah, eventually, but I didn’t know I would, and it was either take that chance, or be forced to go back home, and my time was running out,” you reveal, twiddling your thumbs together, “Look, I would have said something at the time, but everyone had their own shit to deal with after graduation. I would have asked any one of you to marry me, but I knew Yuuta was the only one with a reason to say yes.”

The kitchen falls quiet as the news sits with your friends. Nobara and Maki’s stern disbelief slowly morphs into empathy, and Yuuji’s bright eyes grow steely with concentration as he pieces your story together.

Then he springs up, “Wait, I totally would have married you, senpai!”

You laugh, a lightness easing its way back into the room. “Thanks, Yuuji,” you lean to give him a kiss on the cheek, but you’re met with Nobara’s outstretched palm instead.

“Nuh-uh. Just because I think this marriage is insane doesn’t mean that I condone adultery.”

“It’s not adultery. I told you, Yuuta and I are married on paper only—he’s free to date and kiss whomever he pleases, and so am I,” You roll your eyes, pushing her hand away and giving Yuuji a kiss anyway, which he happily accepts, sticking his tongue out in mockery at Nobara.

Maki scoffs, “Are we sure that Yuuta knows that?”

“Of course he knows that.”

“So then why hasn’t he dated anyone?” Maki presses, eyes lowering into a teasing glare.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “Who Yuuta does or doesn’t date isn’t really my business.”

Nobara pulls at her hair, “Yes it is. You’re his wife.”

“His contractual wife,” you correct.

“Contractual?”

“Wait—have Yuuta and Toge not totally kissed on several drunk, or am I the only one who saw that?” Yuuji interjects.

“No, that was you and Fushiguro,” Nobara says, “And nobody cares about you two right now.”

You put a hand on Yuuji’s shoulder, “I care about you, Yuuji. Please, tell us about your drunk escapades with our dear Megumi.”

“Save it, Itadori,” Maki cuts in, crushing Yuuji’s bright demeanor, “You and Yuuta are way more pathetic. Keep talking.”

“Since when do you even like to gossip?”

“Since she met me,” Nobara gleams, proudly, “Now, keep going.”

You give Yuuji an apologetic glance before continuing, “I just mean that by the end of this year, Yuuta and I can get amicably divorced without raising any suspicion. Our marriage can’t be contested as a sham, I’ll be eligible for citizenship and housing on my own, and all will be well.”

It’s quiet again, for a moment. You bite your lip in anticipation. Ultimately, you knew that none of your friends would judge you and Yuuta for what you did, but it wasn’t exactly normal to marry your friends for legal benefits, and then hide your marital status from almost everyone you knew. Still, this conversation was going about as well as it could, until Maki starts laughing.

Her laughter starts off quiet, then grows gradually, until it becomes concerning. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Maki actually laugh before—a few amused grunts, and occasional drunk giggles, yes, but full-on, blown laughter is a first. It’s scary, and as you glance at Nobara and Yuuji, you’re clearly not the only one worried.

“You actually believe that he doesn’t feel anything for you—that’s rich,” she says through laughter, clutching her stomach, “God help you if you think you can just divorce him. You two are so fucked, you deserve each other.”

“Wait, speaking of rich, did you sign a prenup? Isn’t Yuuta totally loaded now that he’s a nurse and related to Gojo—I also don’t think that you’ll be able to divorce him that easily, but if you kill him, you could be an instant millionaire,” Nobara reasons.

“That’s so shallow!” Yuuji exclaims, “Also, I’m a nurse, and I wouldn’t say I’m loaded.”

“That’s because you’re not cute like Yuuta,” Nobara mocks, “If you were, then you’d make the big bucks.”

“I’m cute!” Yuuji cries, turning to you, “I’m cute, right?”

You reach to pat his head, “Yes, Yuuji, you’re very cute. And perfectly well off enough. Yuuta works inhumane hours for his money, don’t be like him.”

“Itadori, you make, like, quadruple what the average person makes,” Maki reminds him, “You just spend it all just as quickly.”

Nobara scoffs, “Which he can afford to do because he’s a nepotism baby.”

“You just said I was poor and ugly, and now I’m a nepotism baby? Pick a story, Kugisaki!”

“I don’t have to pick shit. Nanami-san sponsors your entire life, and enables your bad spending habits,” she huffs, “Yuuta’s a nepotism nurse, too. In fact, you both make me sick.”

“Okay, then by that logic Fushiguro is also a nepotism baby!”

“Well, duh. He’s, like, the poster child for nepotism babies all around the world.”

You drown out Nobara and Yuuji’s argument, mulling over Maki’s words instead. Did she mean to imply that Yuuta would make your divorce difficult on purpose?—you don’t see why; Yuuta doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body, and it wouldn’t serve him any purpose. You didn’t sign a prenup, but you would never argue ownership over any of his assets, and you know that Yuuta knows that; he’d already given you so much, you would never try to take anything from him.

In fact, getting divorced would only open more doors for him. You don’t know if Yuuta hasn’t dated in the past four years out of some lingering loyalty to your marriage, but if that was the case, then you don’t want to stand in his way for any longer than necessary, and you especially don’t want him to grow to resent you for it. He would no longer be unnecessarily bound to you; he’d be free, legally, to carry on with his life—you would be the only one indebted to him for his boundless kindness.

Truthfully, you hadn’t thought much of your divorce throughout your marriage. You knew that after five years, you could get divorced without consequence, but you hadn’t pictured how that would go. The thought of it somehow messing with your relationship to Yuuta, and your mutual friendships makes your head hurt. Maybe you should have married Yuuji instead.

“Are you kidding, Yuuta would have mauled him,” Nobara chuckles, “Plus he would have lost his childhood home.” You blink. Guess you said that last part out loud.

Her words spark more bickering between her and Itadori, and this time you turn to Maki. It was evident that she was just as much in the dark as anybody else about your secret marriage, but, still, it seemed like she knew something that you didn’t.

“Maki, does... you said I think that Yuuta doesn’t feel anything—then what does he feel?”

Maki blinks, then shakes her head, “You clearly don’t know who you married. That’s for you and your husband to work out.” She continues, this time that same wicked laughter is back, “Just know that whatever your plan for divorce was, it’s not going to be that easy. Yuuta is stupid, clearly, but he’s not that dumb. At least, I hope not.”

You pout, shoulders slumping. That was about the most cryptic and least comforting response a person could give, but you shouldn’t have expected more from Maki. Luckily, Yuuji moves to give your shoulders a comforting rub, forgoing Nobara’s exclamations of him being a homewrecking harlot.

At this point, you can’t tell if their arguing or your overthinking is causing your headache. Maybe you should cancel this group dinner all together; there’s no way you and Yuuta won’t be the topic of conversation all night, and you’re not exactly looking forward to pairing Maki’s mystic messages with Toge’s public humiliation, unless you start consuming liquor now.

Deciding that’s the best plan of action, you turn to your cupboards to reach for a bottle of wine, pawning off popping the cork to Maki when your phone buzzes, catching your attention.

It’s a text from Yuuta, similar to one you’ve received on this day every day, for the past four years, with something a little extra tacked on this year.

from: yuuta 🌟 — happy anniversary (and i’m not just saying that because the feds are watching) (＾∇＾) — cheers to us, and many more! 🖤

#tldr; this is all toge's fault lmfaoooooo #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #yuuta x reader #yuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta smut #yuuta fluff #jjk scenarios #jjk imagines #jjk smau #jjk fanfic #gojo x reader #gojo smut

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gamermattsgf · 4 months

Text

I mean it // homewrecker Matt

Warnings: smut / cheating plot / thigh ride / dry grinding / wet grinding / degradation kink / praise kink / spit kink / dom Matt x sub fem reader / mentions of drinking + smoking / mentions of drugs / hair pulling if you squint / cum kink / princess kink

Summary: in which Matt is only friends with a guy because he really wants his girlfriend…

Author’s notes: this is my longest one yet but I don’t know how I feel about it yet, I might warm to it later, who knows… obviously, I do not condone cheating, nor is it an acceptable thing to do to anyone, so again if you don’t like it, don’t read it. However, if Matt Sturniolo came up to me one day and offered to steal me away from a current boyfriend… I would not hesitate to take my clothes off on the spot. I rest my case.

“She wears a ring? Came through without it, you really think she stays true? I doubt it, because I am fucking your girlfriend and there’s nothing you can do about it” - I mean it, G-Eazy

‘Yeah but Matt’s a dick…’

You shrug at your friend’s pointed comment, swishing around the last half of the strange alcoholic mixer that had been thrust into your hand the minute you had walked through the door.

Both of you stand to the side of the noisy, open living room area whilst your backs lean against the cold wallpaper of some rich kid’s penthouse.

‘Yeah… I know’

‘I could literally list all of the things wrong with him on my fingers and I would run out of them. I don’t even know why your boyfriend chooses to be friends with him’. She continues, taking a sip of her own drink whilst you stare off into the distance, mostly looking over to the opposite side of the room where a ping pong table has been set out and both the boyfriend in question and Matt - the subject of your degrading conversation - are playing in a heated game of beer pong.

‘I’m not sure either’

‘He’s a womaniser with literally no respect for anyone around him, he’s a narcissist, and he’s just constantly rude to people.’ She continues to rant aimlessly, her very large hoop earrings jingling as she shakes her head and denies someone who was offering her a selection of ecstasy pills on a silver platter.

The person doesn’t seem to care for the denial and instead shrugs his shoulders before moving on to pester the next highly intoxicated person, coaxing them into falling even more inebriated by placing the tempting round pill into the palm of their open hand.

She then starts again, waving her hands about dramatically whilst you secretly get lost in your own thoughts.

‘You should have heard what he said the other day about a random girl who passed us on the sidewalk, if I-’ but then her voice slowly fades into the distance the more you focus in on Ryan, who stands next to a Matt that cheers him on whilst he aims a ping pong ball up to throw it into one of the cups opposite them.

Matt wears a baggy dark green zip up hoodie that looks almost black in the flashing red LED lights of the room as weed smoke blows up into the air in thick plumes, like tiny little volcanos releasing their clouds of ash.

Suddenly, your heart squeezes strangely and you find yourself beginning to blush in embarrassment when Matt senses someone staring at him and so flicks his eyes over to you. He has his hands tucked into his hoodie pockets and wears a cheeky little smile on his face that puckers even more after he deflects his eyes to the back of Ryan’s head. He then looks back at you and makes a face, as if to playfully scold you for staring.

You bet he finds all of this so funny. The fact that you are looking at him instead of Ryan.

It immediately makes you feel bad, because you know that if you bump into Matt later tonight, he is most definitely going to bring this up just to tease you about it. However, something within the look of his eyes makes you inwardly squirm. Or maybe it’s the way his smirk suites his face so attractively…

But then you come to the conclusion that it is neither of those things, because what it really is, is the way he inconspicuously lifts his middle and pointer fingers up to split them at either side of his mouth and 'scratch his face’ whilst making direct eye contact with you.

He’s got a pair of fucking balls to innocently mimic the dirty joke of eating someone out, you’ll give him that. Whether it is intentional or not, it still makes you screw up your face in disgust and avert your eyes, to which Matt smiles in victory before re-joining the conversation that is being shared around the ping pong table at his end.

His lower half isn’t visible as he stands behind a Ryan that holds a cup in his hand already whilst his other one lets go of a white ball. Everyone watches it bounce to the other side of the table before it neatly splashes into one of the opposition’s cups.

People cheer for Ryan whilst the other random guy groans with his head thrown back. He playfully points at Ryan and Matt, saying something before he swipes up the shot and knocks it back with a screwed up face of disgust.

They’re probably all drinking the equivalent of burning gasoline in those vile, non-diluted drinks. And judging by the way Matt and Ryan have polished off quite a few of the cups on their side already, it’s clear that they must have come to get absolutely shit-faced at this party.

You secretly roll your eyes and nod along as you hum, pretending to listen to a word your friend is saying before another random girl who - your guess, knows her - comes up to chat.

This gives you an excuse to slip out of her eye-line.

Matt.

Aka, the asshole of all assholes, however… also more fondly known as ‘your boyfriend’s best friend’.

It’s not like what your friend says isn’t true, because all of it is. He is a womaniser, he is a narcissist, and he most definitely is disrespectful to everyone most of the time. In fact, Matt sometimes scares you. You don’t like opening your mouth in front of him at all, nor should anyone else, because no matter what is being said, he’ll still manage to be rude about it.

To say he is a fucking bully is an understatement. He’s the kind of person that will snigger at a guy in glasses and whisper about his appearance after he has passed by to his friends or trip up someone in the school hallways ‘by accident’, only to then watch their folders go flying for the fun of it. He is mean and unpleasant, and quite frankly a terrible influence on Ryan.

Plus, annoyingly, as your friend also points out, Matt loves girls, and he loves the attention he receives from them, because he knows he’s hot. Which doesn’t bother you at all, because you’re with Ryan. But what does concern you however, is that more often than not, you catch Matt looking at you in ways that clearly shouldn’t be allowed, especially since he knows that you are taken. No less taken by his best friend.

They are subtle, and he always immediately looks away after you catch him, but usually with no regret in his eyes and sometimes even with little conniving smirks on his face as though you are both sharing a little inside joke.

Ryan is as clueless as ever of course, he trusts too many people, and only ever really sees the best in Matt. He refuses to believe that Matt could be using his friendship for something else entirely. Because unfortunately, sometimes guy are only friends with other guys because they really want their girlfriends.

And lately… Matt has been absolutely oozing those vibes. Sometimes, you get inwardly pissed at Ryan for not realising the obvious signs, because Matt really doesn’t make it discreet. At all.

It always starts with the stupid shit like looking over at his phone whilst he’s texting Matt to arrange a hang out time, only to see Matt replying with an oh-so-innocent ‘oh cool, will ur gf be there?’ as a sneaky way of making sure that you’ll be around.

Either that or it’s him making blatantly flirty remarks, right in front of Ryan.

Stupidly… most of the time all of these go over Ryan’s head and you just have to roll your eyes at him.

The other thing that also leads you to this conclusion is the very worrying fact that you know Matt has a clear track record of being a notorious homewrecker. It’s like… his thing.

He loves pursuing something that people tell him is actually out of his reach. He loves being able to feel like he can touch the untouchable. And here he is, best friends with Ryan, but only because Ryan has a girlfriend… you.

Someone that he maybe- possibly? To your recollection… wants to fuck.

But that’s just your take on it, and it might not even be true, who knows what actually goes on in the complicated weave of Matt’s mind.

Heading further into the haze of the party, you stroll about, practically choking on the smell of sweat, perfume, nicotine and weed. Not to mention the fact that you almost get crushed in between the grinding body parts of people as their skin brushes and presses up against your own.

You trip up on your feet a couple of times and find it pretty hard to breathe in amongst all of the party goers as you barge your way through the claustrophobically intense crowd that flashes generic neon party colours of red, blue and green from the installed lights above.

Your ears ring and your head thumps at the sound of the tasteless rap music still playing, so you decide to do what any normal person would and go up the stairs to find an unoccupied room where you can just lie down and have some peace and quiet. You’re sure the guy throwing this rager has a couple to spare, even if in some of them people have already gone to fuck.

You’re not too drunk to have lost your grip on what is actually going on around you… you can still think straight, however, you’re not exactly stone cold sober either. So, you wobble your way up the stairs and then walk along the corridor, having to try a few rooms before finding a nice empty one.

Sitting down on the plush double bed you sigh. However, in your intoxicated state, you don’t quite realise that the light to the bathroom suite is on and that someone else is also shuffling around on the other side of the door.

Who that someone is, is only made apparent to you after the bathroom door unlocks and he comes stepping out whilst flicking off the light switch.

You quite literally freeze, and part of you thinks you get so much of a fright that you sober up a little when you gaze upon a full bodied Matt standing in the darkened doorway of the bathroom.

Oh…

Matt looks equally as caught off-guard as you as he narrows his eyes.

‘What are you doing in here?’ You stupidly announce, as if it is your own private room that he is in. He rolls his eyes and scoffs, his usual clipped tone being exercised on you as he responds with a sharp ‘I’m just looking around, jesus it’s not like it’s your bathroom’.

You gulp and shake your head in understanding, inwardly scolding yourself on the idiocy of what you had just said. Trying not to stumble upon your words the next time around you keep your eyes trained on him as he marches across the room to have a nose at some of the pictures hanging up on the walls. Now, your hands are shakily white knuckling the bedsheets… fuck, you can’t just leave! That would be weird.

You don’t have to start speaking again however, because Matt does it for you.

‘So why are you up here by yourself? Thought you would have been begging for Ry’s attention by now’. You can feel his smirk through the back of his fucking head.

Pretty much everything that comes out of this man’s mouth makes your blood sear hotly within your veins. Who the fuck does he think he is to say something like that about you?

‘Well I’m not am I?’

This is the only good comeback you can manage to think of and bite back in the time that he gives you. He is already starting to make your hands shake with nervousness.

His back is turned, but he always somehow manages to command your attention.

‘Yeah I guess so’ he shrugs, but then starts an annoying chuckle as he suddenly looks over his shoulder at your body sitting meekly on the bed, his jawline still as sharp as ever and protruding from his neck. ‘Seems like instead you’re looking for my attention then huh?’.

The quipped hum that travels from his throat makes you flush a cherry pink, and you struggle to keep up with his wit since you get nervous about the way he looks at you and the way he commands himself. ‘Oh really, and what gave you that impression?’. But immediately after you say this you wish you could take it back, because Matt swivels on his feet as though you had walked directly into a trap of his own making.

Which to be honest, you kind of had…

‘Well for one, you’re in here… with me. And two, you just couldn’t seem to keep your eyes off of me earlier… and that’s not really supposed to be what loving girlfriends do’ he pouts his lips and tilts his head meanly, already psychologically bullying you because of how much you had looked at him earlier at the ping pong table in comparison to Ryan.

This time you directly roll your eyes at him and decide to get back up from your position on the bed. At least now you feel like you’re not at a loss for power due to the height difference. You don’t like the way that it’s too easy for him to completely tower over you from your spot on the patterned bed covers.

You can tell that Matt is also a little tipsy based off of the way he sways a little as he stands still, but just like yourself, it’s not enough alcohol to make him completely lose his grip on reality and who you are. So why is it, that he looks at you as though you are a hunk of fresh meat up for grabs?

Suddenly he looks away, taking a deep breath and reaching his hand to the nightstand next to the bed. He swipes up the book resting on top of it, and then slowly reads out the title of the classical novel. ‘The Lover’s Den… it’s one of those must reads isn’t it?’ He asks, still with the added patronising tone that never fails to tick you off.

Your skin feels itchy, and you want nothing more than to run out of this room and away from Matt’s presence, because his attitude really affects you in the strangest of ways. ‘Sure I guess…’ you shift awkwardly, trying to keep your answers as brief as possible.

You wish he would just put the book down, but instead he flips it around and starts to read the blurb.

‘An erotic romance filled with dark twists and a lover’s secret…’.

As he speaks these words your heart plummets into your ass. Next come his hooded eyes that flick up to yours and narrow impishly.

Please just let this be over.

You don’t want to be around Matt any more than you can help it, for conflicting reasons. If before you weren’t sure if whether or not he wanted to fuck you, now you’re pretty much certain he did.

You just hate the way that he is so critical about you, and how he can easily make you feel shy and embarrassed about yourself.

Matt is really attractive, almost unfairly attractive, which just makes you feel sick to your stomach about how often your feelings fight with one another when discussing the concepts of right and wrong. Because you shouldn’t be thinking about that at all, especially when you’re in a supposedly “loving” relationship with Ryan- that transforms into a less loving relationship with every single step Matt takes to get to your heaving figure.

By now he has dropped the book and it’s flopped quietly back down onto the mattress, the suggestive pages of the erotica long forgotten by Matt in favour of him getting to what he really wants… you.

‘Aren’t you a little tired of your relationship?’ He gently starts, as if trying to take on the tone of some kind of marriage counsellor. Your heart squeezes as little paper butterflies make their way around the step ladders of your rib cage.

Oh fuck, how the hell are you supposed to respond to that?

You end up simply keeping your lips sealed in shock. Instead, you opt to nervously gulp a drop of your saliva down your scratchy throat as one of your feet naturally takes a step back from his advancing body.

‘Maybe you want to explore a little before you tie any proper knots with your boyfriend no…?’

Matt has reached you now, and as a natural reaction you simply freeze in your spot of one foot stepped behind the other, your heart still galloping and your eyes blinking up at him widely.

As you begin to stutter, Matt’s mouth peels up into a satisfied smirk with his jawline sharp and his hot breath dispersing directly onto your face because of just how close he is. In fact, he’s so close that you can see the small little pores where his dark stubble grows in to shape his beard.

‘Y’know I like exploring too… a lot…’

His voice reduces to nothing more than a mere whisper now as his face gets incomprehensibly closer to yours. Your hands lay limp by your sides, that is, until Matt slowly gravitates his veined ones forward to pinch your softer skin in between his rougher, more masculine grip whilst his thumbs rub temptingly over the flesh that conjoins your pointer fingers to your thumbs.

Your breath is shaky and audible as Matt falls into a hushed quiet, taking your own silence as permission to press his lips against yours.

Something within your brain sounds a shrieking siren that screams ‘RYAN! RYAN! RYAN!’ Over and over again as Matt’s soft lips enclose over yours with a gentle victory that he treats cautiously at first. He’s buttering you up with his tender caresses and soothing voice, knowing exactly how to play to your weaknesses since he’s had practice at swinging sledgehammers at other people’s happy relationships before.

But, unfortunately for Matt, the little nagging voice of Ryan inside of your head succeeds.

Bile almost rises in your throat as reality comes to slap you in the face. You’re knocked out of Matt’s bewitching trance and are absolutely horrified as to what you are doing with him whilst your boyfriend is most likely located just down the stairs from the two of you.

Ripping yourself away, you jump back in terror and leave Matt to open his eyes and blink them, his lips already swollen with arousal before his hand comes up to smoosh against them in a vampiric manner. He then rubs away any saliva that might have oozed from out of his mouth as though he were swiping away blood.

Shaking your head in silence, you once again have practically no words to utter and instead spin on your heels. Making a beeline straight to the door, you leave Matt’s sexual aura behind, his presence and strong smell of aftershave still polluting your nose and playing with your senses before you grasp a hold of the doorknob and slip outside.

However, regrettably, you don’t leave Matt standing alone in the centre of the room for long, because as quickly as you had closed the door right in his face, you are shyly cracking it back open again and sliding into the room with a guilty grimace once more.

Matt only stands there with his arms crossed and a smug fucking smile on his face, the dim bedside table lamp lighting up both of your complexions with a yellowish lustre. It’s as if he knew that you wouldn’t be gone for long - which to be fair, was right - but it still irked you to admit it.

With a final swallow, you put a signature on an imaginary infidelity contract whilst standing meekly a couple of strides away from him. Fiddling with your hands self-consciously, you voice a curious but soft ‘tell me more…’.

Matt’s shoulders rise and his chest expands with a satisfied sigh, knowing that he has won and absolutely loving it in the process.

Walking up to you, his feet pad quietly on the carpet whilst your breaths once again mingle with one another. Regrettably, you feel now that the heartbeat is not just within your chest, but also in between your legs as Matt easily slips his body around to your back.

He exhales another gentle sigh, now a cool air hitting the side of your neck and making you shiver whilst his chest presses against your shoulder blades. Taking your hands within his once again, he now does something that makes you screw your eyes shut and completely mentally kick yourself because of how much you enjoy it.

Pressing his flat palms over the tops of your hands, he splays them onto the bottom of your thighs before sensually sliding his fingers into the slots between yours. Then, he starts dragging both of your hands up each of your thighs, making sure that you can feel as much as he can underneath the pads of your fingertips whilst he breathes into your ear and expands his chest along your back.

‘Hm… I also like a lot of touching…’ he whispers into your ear before nudging it with his nose.

The more you let him guide both of your hands, the closer they get to your now throbbing centre as they slip up your tender inner thighs. But before you two touch it, he expertly manoeuvres them back out to the sides.

Once again, the sensation of your boyfriend’s malicious best friend touching you without him knowing catches up to you and you accidentally freak out.

Jumping away slightly you shake your head and this time move further into the room rather than sprinting back out of the door again.

You begin to pace.

Matt looks at you as though he has the praying eyes of a panther, predatory instincts kicking in as soon as you move away from him.

Smacking his lips in annoyance he raises his eyebrows sassily at you, his earrings glinting in the small stream of light and glittering every time they wobble when he moves.

Making up your mind and making it up quickly, you throw your whole entire relationship built up on trust into the trash as you stutter out a pathetic, cheating question that you hope will answer the doubts running around in your head.

‘You won’t tell a fucking soul about this will you?’

Matt raises his eyebrows again to look at you in judgement before substituting his incredulity for a smirk instead. Placing one of his hands over his heart, his other one raises to his head whilst he pledges allegiance to you with a mocking nickname lilted onto the end of the quip for good measure.

‘Cross my heart and hope to die, sweetheart’

With this… somewhat reassurance, you genuinely believe that Matt won’t tell a soul. So, you decide to think like a man… with your clit instead of with your brain, just as they would with their dicks.

‘So… what else do you like?’ You curiously ask, your voice still laced with a huge amount of hesitance, because you know of Matt’s dating history… and based off of some of the horror stories you’ve heard, you’re sure he likes a lot of different things. He doesn’t seem to be the picky type.

But you let Matt answer for himself, and you also let him once again walk back up to you, this time allowing him into your personal space without any fight at all. In fact, you’re actually more responsive to his touch.

He trails his hands around the hem of your jeans, before fiddling with each side of your shirt whilst his seductive eyes mimic his raspy voice.

‘I like things sticky… wet and messy… if it’s not messy I don’t fucking want it’.

His voice is slow, like dripping hot honey coated in sugar. The overall sensual manner of it makes your panties pool and you can practically feel yourself sticking together down at your core. Matt plays on this a little bit more after he sees how much it affects you.

‘Can you do messy baby? With those gorgeous thighs of yours? You wanna be my good girl tonight?’

He pouts boyishly and then tilts his head just that little bit so that he can feather a teasing kiss onto your lips before pulling away.

By now he is standing in the gap between your legs, enough so that when he compliments your thighs he can reach down to them and cup the backs of them, giving them a testing little squeeze.

His nose runs down the arch of your neck to your shoulder as he does this and at the same time, you both test the waters by giving each other an inconspicuous grind. Matt moans slightly into your skin at the erotic motion whilst the scruffy hair by his ear rubs against your jawline.

Throughout all of this dry sex however, he still manages to keep cool and collected. Unlike you, who practically falls to a puddle at his feet. The only thing keeping you up is his big palms supporting your thighs whilst his lips pucker and pepper a sprinkling of small kisses all along your exposed shoulder.

‘You wanna know how I taste don’t you? How I feel’. His voice rasps cheekily whilst referring to his cock. Now it’s your turn to let something of a stuttered whimper out into the air that gets semi-trapped on the way up because of just how far back your neck tilts to let Matt in to your exposed skin. You notice that now, your back is also arched for him and his cock as well. God how needy could you be?

‘I bet you’re just aching to hear what I sound like when you pull my hair…’ he continues his tease, showing you no mercy as your own hands grip and tighten onto each of his shoulders. They tremor in apprehension.

And now, Matt decides, is the best possible time to give you another kiss. Only this time, it’s longer, heavier and thicker with the feelings of lust laced within the twists of his tongue. Matt also lets your thighs go just so that he can grab a hold of each side of your jawline to steady himself better into the kiss.

Just like he had said before, it’s messy, and it’s sloppy. You easily feel the slick consistency of your salivas layering over the fullness of your lips. He rubs his own pair against yours before trapping them and sucking them, his tongue licking slowly over the plump pink flesh.

‘Give me your tongue baby’

He speaks quietly into your lips, pinching your hip bones after he teases his hands underneath your shirt. Clearly wanting you to reciprocate his tongue motions, it doesn’t take you long to do so whilst he gently pushes his nose to nudge against yours. Sensually, he starts to walk backwards.

Bending his knees, he falls down onto the bed and it squeaks underneath his heavy weight before his thighs spread open and he hauls you to sit on top of one of them. You can feel your cheeks burning.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, just to gaslight yourself into believing that you’re not really doing what you’re actually doing.

If you can’t see Matt and see the way you’re perched on top of his thigh as he easily cradles your ass possessively within his hands, then it’s not happening.

After you start to use your tongue more, from Matt’s tilted neck, you hear a throaty hum of delight before he rasps a quick ‘that’s my girl’.

Only your stomach pools with regret. Because you’re actually not his girl. You’re supposed to be Ryan’s.

You try your best to push the thought to the back of your mind however, and instead focus on the way Matt gently starts to apply pressure to each of your ass cheeks, willing them to slide forward, before he moves his thumbs to the front of your hip bones so that he can dig them into your skin and push you back into a grinding motion.

Your breathing is heavy, as is his, but you still continue to kiss, the sounds of your lips erotically moving together being pretty much the only sound in the room until you decide to speak up in response to what he had said earlier.

‘Well it serves Ryan right for being so stupid and not dropping you when he should have…’

Matt sniggers meanly with a toothy smile through your kiss, almost triumphantly at the fact that he had managed to slip past Ryan’s eyes with ease and take you as if it were like taking candy from a baby.

‘Fuck… you’re just as bad as me baby, aren’t you?…’ he muses in surprise, raising his eyebrows teasingly whilst you break away from each other’s kisses just so that he can look into your eyes. His irises flick between the left side of your face to the right, his hands still working you into a soft grind above his thigh whilst he passes his reddened tongue over his moist lips, almost hungrily. You find it within yourself to weakly smirk at his statement.

‘I’ve been waiting to put my hands on you for so fucking long baby, you have no idea’ he mumbles, again with another low and conniving laugh, not even a single thought about how Ryan would feel about all of this travelling through his mind.

Nope. His only concern currently, is how he can’t wait to hear the way you breathe his name through sweat, tears and pleasure as he has you in any way he wants. He feels proud, as if he is finally claiming his prize for being the shittiest friend known to man. But Matt isn’t really a friendly type of guy anyway. So he doesn’t give a shit.

The only thing he had been interested in was you in the first place, all he had needed to do was find a way into your life without making it too obvious that he was trying to steal you right from underneath Ryan’s nose.

Slowly, he slips his hand down to the front of your jeans, swiftly and expertly manoeuvring his fingers to the button so that he can pop it open and yank down the zipper with a desperate speed about him.

‘Shut up Matt… I don’t want to hear you gloating about this’. You whine pathetically, shyly looking down at Matt’s spread legs and the bottom of his green hoodie that currently covers his black belt, just so that you don’t have to look into his eyes.

He scoffs, yourself still not safe from the sharp edge of his tongue. You yelp when he decides to flex his torso and flip you two around.

‘Oh so you’re gonna be a cheeky little bitch about this then hm? Well, maybe you don’t deserve to have my cock…’ the spit he comes out with is ugly and threatening.

You’ll admit… you’re not quite expecting the change in power dynamic, and just the very sight of seeing Matt crawling his body over yours and trapping you with an animalistic look in his eyes makes all of this seem very real. There’s no going back now…

You gulp and blink with doe-like shock whilst Matt hooks his thumbs into your jeans to pull them halfway down your legs.

He sighs. ‘What would you rather me talk about then?’

But you only pant in return, cautiously looking down towards your jeans that are slowly being peeled from your smooth thighs as Matt’s face finds itself extremely attracted to your open neck.

‘Ugh, I don’t know Matt? Just… anything other than Ryan’ you complain, mildly rolling your eyes. Before he can go in to kiss your flesh, Matt catches this and actually snorts a laugh in response, clearly finding your lack of care for your shitty boyfriend highly amusing.

‘Hey, don’t worry, as soon as I’m finished with you the only name you’ll be able to remember is mine…’. Your thighs subconsciously squeeze at this comment, but you can’t quite clamp them together fully because Matt’s hips are in the way. He notices the tension in both of your muscles and so decides to milk it further by leaning his face down closer to yours whilst whispering a gorgeous ‘yeah? You like that?’ that rolls from off of his tongue with ease.

‘Mhm hmm’ you hum in return, trying to keep your mouth closed so that you don’t whine into the air when responding. Matt is clearly happy at this, reaching down one of his hands to his own pants that are fitted nicely around his legs.

He then places his other hand flat on the bed right next to your hip before using it to hoist all of his body weight up so that the hand down by his pants could expertly undo his belt and slip it out from the belt loops.

It’s extremely attractive, to see him towering over you like this just to undo his belt, and you feel your clit throb behind your panties once again when he bites his lip in concentration to get the rest of his pants undone just by using a single hand.

‘I wanna taste you so bad, but we’re gonna have to be quick baby…’ he mumbles to you after both of your attentions are side tracked to the door, where loud voices can be heard as people walk down the corridor and bypass the room. Too many people know who both of you are at this party, so it is risky doing this in here anyway, considering the fact that there is absolutely no lock on the door.

Pushing down his pants, you nod once again to agree with him before gulping at the slivers of his tanned thighs that reveal themselves the further down his jeans drop.

‘How do you wanna have me?’ You speak up timidly, feeling an awful lot like a mouse in the presence of a lion, one wrong move from you and you’re toast. But you decide to play along with Matt, because he seems to like it when you play the clueless game with him.

‘Have you ever had someone’s thigh before princess?’

Matt seems to immediately know what he wants to do to you with how quickly he responds and seems even more delighted at your virginal response of ‘what the fuck does that mean?’.

‘Sweetheart… has Ryan taught you nothing?’ He coos softly, his patronising tone still there whilst he sneakily slips his hands into your panties to pull them down and have cool air hit your centre. He has to bite his lip at the sight of your gushing wetness.

‘Well not really… he’s always sort of wanted to be on top so I’ve just let him…’. At this response, Matt scoffs and shakes his head in disappointment.

‘God Ryan what the fuck are you doing man?’ He quickly mumbles under his breath as if Ryan is in the room with you two before he turns his attention back to your needy figure.

‘I want you to cum all over my thigh angel… think you can do that for me?’ He questions encouragingly, your panties now also half way down your legs and sitting just above your sagged jeans. Your heart flutters and your back arches up once again whilst you hesitate.

Now, the throbbing is turning into a stinging because you haven’t touched yourself at all since this whole encounter has started, so you decide to simply answer with a quick ‘yes Matt, I-I can do that’.

He praises you right after with a sultry ‘that’s my good girl’ before getting up from his position over you and instead sitting down on the edge of the bed beside you.

Sitting upwards a little, you help Matt grab onto you, and his hands practically swallow your sides whilst he stretches you out onto his lap. Moving a little further up onto the bed his cattish eyes gaze up into yours with his pupils dilated and his mouth a blushing red.

Getting you onto a singular thigh, your knees plant on either side of the mattress and sink down softly due to the weight of your upper body. Your sensitivity touches the lower part of his thigh when you press yourself onto him.

Hissing, you whimper slightly in open-mouthed pain whilst your hands claw onto the sleeves of his green-hoodied shoulders.

You look down at the dark haired skin of his powerful muscle, testing the waters of what he’s about to make you do before you hear a low and guttural ‘spit’ violently exhale from his mouth. Glancing back up at Matt you see that he has an expectant look laced within his eyes.

And it doesn’t matter how much your brain screams that this is all terribly wrong, because you still will you mouth to produce an acceptable amount of saliva before knocking your head downwards and letting it all slowly drip from your open mouth.

The thick globule splatters noisily against Matt’s thigh and now Matt finds himself continuously throbbing at the look you give him as the last remnants of your spit linger around your mouth in mid air like a small spider’s web tendril blowing in the wind.

At least, it’s like that until Matt reaches out one of his fingers to whip it away and lick it into his own mouth.

Your saliva glitters in the low lighting and is soon joined by Matt’s own spit after he gathers it into his mouth and also releases it onto his now already lubed up thigh.

‘Fuck angel you are going to love this…’ he muses cockily, grabbing both of your hips within his hands before groaning whilst he lifts you slightly to place your aching and bare centre onto the sticky consistency of your strings of saliva.

Gritting your teeth upon first impact, you have to close your eyes and try not to whimper at the strange sensation Matt’s thigh gifts to you whilst Matt himself looks up at you, proud of what he has made you feel thus far.

He knew you weren’t going to last long at all.

Your face gets very red and very flushed, very fast. As soon as Matt starts to use his hands in a similar way to how he had when you were both clothed, the pressure it brings to your core nearly makes you light headed. You feel so sensitive, and you can hear your spit being spread about his thigh as he tenses his muscle and then relaxes it to give you a perfect pleasure point when rubbing you over it.

You still have your eyes closed, but from the darkness of your vision, you can clearly hear Matt’s smooth voice cooing a gentle ‘open up those pretty little eyes for me…’.

You struggle to do this in between screwing up your face in pleasure, and knocking your head back automatically every time he decides to lift his thigh up a little into the grind so that you can feel it even harder when you ride him. But you slowly manage to peek both of your eyes open ever so slightly.

‘Fuck sake Matt what are you doing to me…’ you breathe out shakily down to him, both of your noses brushing from your position straight above him. After getting used to his motions, you also decide to help him out a little by engaging further and now using your own legs to hoist your harder and faster on his thigh.

‘I’m just doing what Ryan never could…’ he whispers back up to you in a snake-ish manner, knowing how good he’s fucking you and also knowing that it’ll never be the same with Ryan ever again after this. You’re just simply going to want more and more of Matt instead…

‘It would always make me so jealous whenever he put his hands all over you. I swear he did it on purpose just to tease me… and it killed me every time because I so desperately wanted to know what kind of face you’d make if it were my cock stretching you out…’

Whining to him in stimulation once again, your gut flutters and you have to bite your lip to suppress dizzy spells because of how perfectly he’s using his leg.

‘I love feeling you on me like this princess, you feel so fucking good…’ he breathes back up to you in response. ‘I won’t even have to jerk off later because you’re gonna make me cum in my pants’ he continues.

‘But… what about - fuck - giving you a taste?’ You moan into his lips after you start to messily make out with him once again, now both of your lower and upper body halves at work to help you reach your high.

Matt hums a groan in response to this, bucking his hips forward a little in excitement yet still keeping the quick rhythm of his thigh for you.

‘It’s okay, it’s okay, you can let my face have a turn next time’ he utters quickly and without worry, automatically assuming that there’s going to be a next time - which probably is accurate with the rate that this is going at. Yet, it’s still bold of him to assume.

However, most of your thinking is forgotten as you soon feel like you have bypassed a certain point within your build up stage that tells you that you are ready to cum, because it starts to burn in your gut and you feel like you seriously can’t keep quiet at all anymore with whimpers, whines and moans expelling from your mouth into Matt’s.

Uttering something completely inaudible to him, he seems to catch on that you’re close to finishing and so reaches one of his hands up the front of your top to play with one of your tits beneath your bra. This only enlarges the feeling whilst Matt praises you with showers of ‘you’re being such a good girl for me’ and ‘you’re doing so well angel… just a little more’.

The last remnants of his praise are eeked out of him before something within you snaps and a gushing waterfall of pleasure rolls all the way up your gut like some form of ricocheting explosion. You almost cry, and your eyes certainly dampen a little with tears as your mouth drops open.

From below you, Matt admires the sounds of ecstasy tumbling from your lips as you cum.

‘Shhh, shh- shhh, I know baby, I know…’

Whilst he helps you ride out your high, he hushes you gently like a baby, stroking your back and gazing up at you sympathetically, as if it wasn’t just him who had caused your body to react in this astronomically earth shattering way.

‘Jesus pretty, you’ve soaked my thigh…’ he remarks in absolute shock after you wobble your way off of your seat on his leg to crash tiredly next to him onto the bed. You smirk in exhaustion, before your squished lips mumble a ‘yeah well that’s all of what Ryan couldn’t give me, so savour it Matt…’ into the mattress. Matt also snorts, before cleaning up a little bit of your sticky cum and licking it from off of his finger right in front of you.

‘There… I did get to taste you in the end…’ he muses playfully, to which you hide your face into the blanket and groan at what you had just done.

The feeling of realisation after you’ve made a mistake is never a nice one, however, what is as equally concerning is the fact that you don’t seem to care as much as you thought you would have, which sends warning sirens off in your head once again.

You had just cheated on Ryan… but what’s even worse is that you had cheated on him with his so-called ‘best friend’, the same best friend who had coaxed you into cheating with him in the first place.

‘Ryan can’t know about this…’ you croak fearfully into the mattress whilst Matt stands up to put his pants back on properly again.

He spins around to you, his skinny, short figure accentuated in the light as he does his belt back up with a cheeky grin on his face. His hair is fluffy and tussled at the front from when you had carded your hands through it a couple of times whilst you had fucked.

His little chain with a small horse pendant on it also glitters with malice and cockiness at the state he had left you in, crumpled on top of the mattress. God, he’s going to love sneaking around behind Ryan’s back to fuck you, he always gets a free high from playing these kinds of games with people’s heartstrings.

‘Don’t worry… I don’t kiss and tell… plus, keeping it a secret is all part of the fun anyway…’

Author’s notes p.2: TW: Ryan… the only thing going through my head when writing this was the song ‘Homewrecker’ by Marina and the Diamonds lol, Matt is such a dick but I absolutely LOVE IT. Also guys I’ve literally reached the limit of the amount of people I can put on my taglist, so I’m going to have to tag the rest of u guys in the comment sections now sorryyyy hehe, shits crazy. Thank you so much, I’m always so eternally grateful for all of the love u give my writing, I love reading all of ur asks and messages, so please write more!! 🎀

Taglist: @luverboychris @lovingmattysposts @luvmila444 @luv4kozume @stursweet @strniohoeee @strawberrysturniolo @thesturniolos @sturniolosreads @vecnasnose0 @meanttomeet @ellie-luvsfics @matthemunch @mattsleftnipple03 @robins-scoop @asturniolos @imwetforyourmom @nicksmainbitch @sturnioloenthusiast @breeloveschris @kvtie444 @rootbeerworshiper @chr1sgirl4life @hrt-attack @gigisworldsstuff @stargirlsturniololover @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @sturniololoverr @jahlisa22 @bernardsgf @luvasr @meg-sturniolo @blahbel668 @liz-stxrn @sturnreblog @ratatioulle @isabellehoran @carolsturns1 @1800chokedathoe @sturnsmadl @sturniolossmut @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattswifey00 @sturniolowhore @skadltmf @sturniolosstar @luvsturns @mattestrella @hearts4chris @orangeypepsi

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bigfatbimbo · 4 months

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ohmygod i have no idea how you manage to write about those characters so well fehjebhjeb i guess i'm riding the finale wave of excitement about lucifer so i wanted to ask if you're willing to write some nsfw headcanons about him? I absolutely agree he's way more submissive than he lets on and i loved your view on him being really vocal (curse u for opening my mind to the possibilities). How open do you think he would be about being pegged or having a general very praising dom loving his whimpering sounds of pleasure and just wanting to hear even more of them and what would get him to completely lose it

a/n — oh my gosh it’s funny you ask because i’ve actually already done smut headcanons

this request made me heavily consider just doing a fic where the reader pegs him but the people have decided on more nsfw hcs

i’ll still do that pegging fic tho..

˚ ʚ♡ɞ˚ This has been said before but it doesn’t take much to get him worked up.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ So coaxing those pretty noises out of him would be easy.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Especially if you bring up how noisy he is. He would be all flustered and embarrassed about it but then proof your point more by whining.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ About having a very praising dom— he absolutely loves it.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He hasn’t been loved in so long that even if you guys aren’t fucking and you praise him he’d probably get really needy.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ If you degrade him too much I genuinely think he would cry because he literally tries so hard to please you it’s sad.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He will be so pathetic about it too and beg you to be nice again.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Edging would literally end him. Like I said he hasn’t gotten laid in a while so he definitely cums super fast.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ I had an anon once say that he probably would before his clothes were even off and that’s so true because he is desperate.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He would be so embarrassed after that and probably ask you if you wanted to leave because he’s literally so ashamed oh my god.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ But of course you don’t leave and you give him all the love and praise he deserves in bed.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ I don’t know if this is just a me thing but he needs love so bad I feel the need to give him 100% princess treatment in bed.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He really would want to please you and give back to you but maybe you just tie his hands together and tell him tonight was all about his needs.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Fuck him and praise him so that he wouldn’t even have to lift a finger— he would literally die under all the attention.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He whimpers A LOT like that’s probably the main noise he makes.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ I think it would take a second for him to say anything but he is really into being pegged by you.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He would like to be on his back with his legs wrapped around your torso so he could see you while you fuck him.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He’s a little guy so it would be so easy to manhandle him. Which is good because that literally turns him on so much.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Like you could probably hoist him up by his thighs and fuck him against the wall as he clings to your neck.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Oh. My. God. He’s done for. He’s so incredibly touch starved that being held like that while being treated by your strap or dick would literally send him reeling.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ After really hard days with his depression I think it would also be really comforting for him to be treated like that.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ But make sure it’s gentle and loving because if it’s too rough he’ll worry you’re mad at him.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ I wonder sometimes if he’d even sit on your lap while you fuck up into him. I mean I hope so because I highkey wanna breed this guy on my plastic dick.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He also loves when you sit on your face. He could literally just die between your legs it’s so crazy.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He could eat you out for literally hours especially if you’re moaning out praises while he does it because he really cares about making you feel good.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ I think he’s the type of guy to moan while he eats you out because just the idea of pleasuring you is enough to make him cum untouched.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He’s a pussy eater, what can I say? You saw that one shot of him in the finale… with the two fingers? Yeah, you know what i’m talking about.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Also he moans like a bitch when you suck his dick. Loves the feeling of your warm, wet mouth on him.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He’ll start praising you while you do it but can literally only speak for like two minutes before he’s completely incoherent.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Mark him up well and noticeably because he loves silently letting people know that he’s lucky enough to get fucked by you.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He also can be incredibly smug. This guys KNOWS he’s adorable and he uses it.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Maybe you’re telling him off for not taking care of himself one day and he’s just gazing up at you with big innocent ‘fuck me’ eyes.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Oh, but he knows what he’s doing and he knows it gets under your skin.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ You get fed up with it and end up pushing him down on whatever surface is nearest and fucking the life out of him.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Definitely edge him too for being such a fucking tease.

a/n — The lucifor brainrot is killing me. Anyways expect the pegging fic later today because I need him so bad <3

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #dom reader #headcanons

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 1 year

Text

cupid - seungcheol (m)

summary: brother’s best friend!seungcheol. you move in with your brother joshua while you look for a new place, so you finally meet his best friend and roommate seungcheol. you’ve only heard stories, so you’re not prepared for the good looks or the charm that he constantly exudes. after a really bad date, you need someone to save you, and with joshua mia, seungcheol comes to the rescue.

word count: 9.3k

warnings: smut!!! afab reader. unprotected sex. gendered terms (pretty girl, reader referred to as sister/sis). thigh riding. a little oral (m receiving).

masterlist

“jesus, how many boxes do you have?” joshua complains as you hand him another box of books to lug into his apartment.

“only a couple more,” you tell him. “these are all the things i couldn’t fit in storage.”

“get a bigger unit next time,” your brother grumbles as you start the walk back into his building.

“no,” you say stubbornly, and you can almost hear him roll his eyes. “why did you park so far away?”

“why are you complaining!” he shrieks. “i’m doing something very nice for you! be grateful!”

“i am,” you say as you rush to open the door for him, and he quietly thanks you. “seriously, you don’t know how much this is helping me, big bro. i was about to have a breakdown trying to find a place before my old lease ended.”

“i heard,” joshua laughs. “mom called me the other week and told me to check on you, she thought you were losing it.”

“yeah, well,” you sigh, “if i had to deal with those roommates any longer i was going to.”

“so you’re looking for a place by yourself?” joshua asks as the elevator dings. he lets you go in first, reminding you of what floor to press before you respond.

“yeah, i can finally afford one, so i figured it would be nice to have my own space.”

“i can understand that,” he nods.

“you happy living with your roommates?” you ask. “not ready to give up your frat boy days from college?”

“shut up,” he says. “not all of us got good jobs right after graduation. i need roommates if i wanna live in this area.”

“and remind me of their names again?” you ask, the elevator stopping on your floor. you let joshua go first, following him down the hall and trying to remember the unit number.

“well there’s seungcheol, or cheol,” josh starts. “you haven’t met him yet, he’ll be home later.” he unlocks the door and lets you in as he goes on. “and then mingyu-”

“i remember him,” you say happily, glad to know there’ll be a familiar face here.

“and i remember the little crush you used to have on him,” joshua smiles evilly.

“i did not!”

“hm, you sure?”

“swear on your life.”

“whatever,” he laughs. “anyway, he’s got a girlfriend now, and we haven’t seen him here for longer than a couple hours since they started dating. so you can stay in his room until you find a place.”

“oh no, i couldn’t-”

“he doesn’t mind,” joshua waves you off, your box placed ungracefully on the floor. “seriously, he doesn’t even keep his stuff here anymore. it won’t be an issue.”

“if you say so,” you sigh. “ok, one more trip?”

“nope,” joshua shakes his head before laying on the couch. “you’ve used up all your favors for today.”

“what a helpful brother you are,” you deadpan. “give me the keys. i’ll go get the rest of my stuff. alone!”

“sounds good!” josh replies, tossing his keys to you dangerously. “don’t get lost!”

“no promises!” you shout back, locking the door behind you as you go. you thankfully don’t have much left to bring up, so you’re able to grab a majority of your things this trip. what’s left you can get later, because you’re exhausted. now that you know you have a bed and not an air mattress to sleep on, the idea of laying down is becoming more and more appealing. only problem with you grabbing so many things is now you can’t open the door on your own. thankfully, a guy who must live here too rushes over to hold it for you, nodding when you thank him for the help. he catches the elevator for you both before it closes, sticking his arm out so the doors won’t close in on you as you bring your things inside.

“what floor?” he asks, and you start to reply when you see your floor already selected.

“oh, you’ve got it already,” you tell him, and he nods. end of the conversation, it seems, until you get to the floor and start walking in the same direction. you slow down, waiting for him to maybe turn off at a different door, but, yep, he’s unlocking the door to joshua’s apartment. you stand in the hallway stunned for a moment before you go up and knock the door, not wanting to dig for the keys now that your hands are full. mystery man comes to the door, and you stutter out a greeting.

“don’t tell me you lost my keys already,” joshua calls from within the apartment, and the man, who must be seungcheol, looks between you both.

“you’re joshua’s sister?” he asks, and you nod. he steps aside, letting you in, as he says, “sorry, i didn’t realize. i’m seungcheol.”

“i pieced that together,” you smile. “nice to meet you. thanks for letting me stay here a while.”

“no problem,” he replies. “joshua didn’t really give us a choice anyway.”

“josh you said they were fine with me being here!” you whine, looking for your brother, who pops his head out of the kitchen with a smirk.

“he’ll get used to it. you hungry, y/n?”

“starving.”

“cheol?”

“i can eat,” he shrugs, eyeing you carefully as you put your things down. josh didn’t say his sister was hot. well, that would be weird. he just didn’t say much about you other than you’re a couple years younger and in need of a place to crash, so the fact that cheol can’t take his eyes off of you is a bit conflicting for the man. he looks away before you can catch him staring, clearing his throat before he says, “um, i’m gonna go wash up.”

“oh, can you show me where the bathroom is?” you ask.

“uh, sure,” cheol says awkwardly, walking down the hall as you follow. he points to one door and says, “that’s joshua’s room, not sure if he said that already. your’s is back there,” he points to a door further down on the right, and then to the door behind you, “that’s your bathroom. you’ll share with your brother.”

“it’s like i’m a kid again,” you joke, and cheol smiles softly. “where’s your room?”

“what?” cheol sputters.

“well is there another bathroom? you said josh and i would share this one, i’m just curious,” you go on. “sorry if i’m prying.”

“no, yeah, um, i have the master suite since i found the place for us,” he explains. “the guys let me have it as a thanks for doing all the apartment hunting.”

“it’s a nice place,” you note, and he hums in agreement.

“ok, well, um, i’m going,” he says, pointing to his room.

“right, right, sorry,” you say, waving him off. you step into the bathroom to rinse your face off, removing some of the sweat from your long day. you head back out into the kitchen to bother joshua and he looks up as you walk in.

“so how do you like the place?” he questions, and you tell him it’s nice. without looking at you he asks next, “and how do you like cheol?”

“he’s a little awkward, actually,” you reply. “you sure he’s cool with me staying here? i won’t be here long, if it bothers him.”

“he’ll be fine,” josh waves you off. “he may just be tired. looks like he was coming back from the gym so he’ll be better after his nap and a snack. he’s like a toddler.”

“noted,” you laugh. “you need help with anything?”

“nah, you can start unpacking your stuff,” josh says. “i’ll call you when the food’s ready.”

“joshua?”

“yeah?” he asks, turning to look at you.

“thank you for letting me stay here. really.”

“anytime,” he smiles. “just remember we share a bathroom again, so no long ass showers.”

“way to ruin the moment,” you laugh.

you end up going back to “your” room to change, putting some of your clothes away in mingyu’s empty dresser. he really must spend all his time at that girl’s place, you think. you take your toiletries into the bathroom, squatting in front of the sink so you can arrange them among joshua’s countless bottles. as you’re balancing and trying not to knock over something in an expensive glass bottle, cheol walks down the hallway in a tank top and sweats, water droplets still sticking to his chest. the sight of him booking it takes you by surprise, so you fall onto your ass and shake your head, clearing whatever strange thoughts the sight of a damp seungcheol were bringing to your mind.

meanwhile, cheol joins joshua in the kitchen, opting to sit at the counter while josh finishes the noodles. he wants to say something about you, but isn’t sure how to bring it up without seeming weird. he also doesn’t have much time before you come out of your room, so cheol just goes for it.

“um, does y/n need help moving anything else, you think?” cheol offers, and josh looks over his shoulder nonchalantly.

“you can ask her,” he shrugs. “i’m tapped out for the night though, so i’m sure she is too.”

“ok,” cheol nods. he starts playing on his phone, not noticing you walking into the kitchen until joshua starts complaining about something.

“what, i can’t drink your water?” you whine back, frustrated that your brother won’t let you have one of the bottles in the fridge.

“because those aren’t mine!” joshua informs you. “they’re cheol’s, so at least as him before you take one.”

“seungcheol, can i please have one of your waters? i can get the next case if you want,” you say as you turn around, and it takes cheol a second to focus. you’re wearing an old concert t shirt (cheol is pretty sure he has that same one) and shorts that are barely there. cheol is distracted by the sight of your thighs on display and it takes his brain a second to catch up, so he nods before he really knows what he’s agreeing to.

“wait, what? you don’t have to buy more water,” he says, finally there. “have as much as you want. joshua’s just weird.”

“you’re telling me,” you say as you hop up onto the counter.

“i hate when you do that,” josh says, turning to you with his hand on his hip.

“you know when you do that you look just like mom?”

“shut up.”

“you!”

“oh my god!” cheol interjects with a laugh. “are you two going to bicker all the time?”

“no,” you say in unison.

“most of the time though,” you add, and joshua scoffs.

“only when y/n annoys me.”

“am i gonna have to play referee for you two?” cheol asks. “my god.”

“sorry,” you apologize. “we’ll cut it out. right josh?”

“whatever,” he mumbles, pulling the pot from the stove. “y/n can you get a pot holder from that drawer under you and put it on the table for me?”

“yeah, hold on,” you say, moving with a quickness. “don’t burn yourself.”

“i’m being careful,” josh says softly, and cheol laughs to himself at how quickly you can go from bickering to caring for each other. you both join him at the counter, you struggling to get into the tall chair.

“watch it shorty,” he teases, making you blush.

“oh no, i can’t deal with both of you teasing me,” you scold. “so zip it. i’ve got little legs.”

“hm, it’s cute,” cheol says loud enough for you to hear but quiet enough that josh doesn’t catch it over the sound of shuffling bowls. he passes them out and starts serving you and cheol. “thanks man.”

“yeah thanks mom,” you joke, and josh mumbles an expletive before eating his food.

after eating, you and joshua were both so tired you just went to your rooms. cheol however stayed out in the kitchen, promising he would clean up. instead, he politely snoops through your things, trying to learn more about you through your boxes of junk. he doesn’t touch anything, just looks, so he doesn’t feel that bad about it. he takes note of the books laying on top of one box, jotting down the titles so he can try to find some of them later. he smiles when he sees a soccer jersey falling out of a duffel bag, and he’s about to break his no touching rule when he hears a loud, “HEY!” from the hallway. he jumps at the sound, bumping his elbow on one of the boxes and toppling books over. he whirls around to find you, clad in a baggy sleep shirt with tired eyes watching on in amusement.

“what the hell are you doing?” you question, and cheol tries to stammer out a response.

“i uh, i saw a bug,” he lies, and you nod.

“hm, i thought josh would keep his house cleaner than that,” you judge.

“i’m the pig in this relationship, it’s probably my fault,” cheol says as he follows you back into the kitchen. “couldn’t sleep?”

“no, i’m still hungry,” you grumble. “the noodles were my only meal today.”

“you need to eat more,” cheol scolds and you wave him off as you open the fridge.

“whose lunchable is this?” you ask over your shoulder.

“look at me,” cheol gestures. “do i look like i eat those?” you stare maybe a little longer and harder than you should, prompting cheol to ask, “find something else you like?”

“what? no,” you shake your head. “i should’ve known it was my brother’s. he lived off of these for a month when he was younger.”

“really?” cheol chuckles. “what was joshua like as a kid?”

“hm, angelic?” you say sarcastically, hopping back up on the counter like you were earlier. you start eating your lunchable as you keep talking. “he was the perfect one and i was the biter.”

“the biter?”

“i bit so many kids i almost got kicked out of school,” you confirm. “sorry. don’t know why i just told you that. it’s embarrassing.”

“it’s okay,” cheol smiles. “you still like to bite people now?”

“only when provoked,” you say suspiciously.

“i’ll remember that.”

“so you really don’t mind me staying here?” you ask with cracker crumbs on your lips. cheol finds that captivating, so he keeps his eyes on your lips as he responds.

“i really don’t mind,” he nods. “i’m just happy we could help. josh was worried about you for a while.”

“yeah, well, he never liked my roommates-”

“or the area you were in,” cheol says sternly. “he said it wasn’t safe.”

“oh it wasn’t,” you nod. “but it was cheap.”

“still, you need to be careful,” cheol tells you.

“didn’t know i was signing up for a bonus brother by staying here,” you tease.

“i’m not being a bonus brother, i’m simply a concerned citizen,” he says, hand over his heart. you fall silent while you finish eating, and cheol does his best to commit your form to memory. he wants you to be embedded in his eyelids when he lays down and closes his eyes tonight, and he only feels bad for a nanosecond that he feels this way about his friend’s baby sister.

“ok, well, thank you for the company,” you say as you look for the trashcan.

“under the sink,” cheol says, anticipating what you were looking for and keeping his eyes on you still. “all good?” he asks when you’ve thrown everything away, and you nod. “alright, well, good night.”

“night seungcheol,” you say with an awkward wave as you go back to your room. when you’re halfway down the hall you hear cheol call your name, so you turn to find his eyes smiling at you.

“call me cheol, i like that better.”

“oh, ok. night cheol,” you try again, and he happily nods.

when you wake up the next morning, you hear someone in the kitchen and assume joshua must be up and about. you wrap a blanket around yourself, laughing at the fact that mingyu has a pink fuzzy blanket in his room. you make your way into the kitchen, ready to complain about how cold you were last night.

“dude, are you rich or something? why’d you run the ac all-” you stop short, staring at cheol’s bare back. he looks back at you, hair ruffled, and has the audacity to smirk. “sorry. thought you were josh.”

“he’s still asleep,” cheol replies, and you consider just going back to your room to hide until you’re sure your brother is out here as a buffer. with his back to you still, he asks, “do you want eggs?”

“uh, sure?”

“are you?” cheol laughs, turning around to face you fully. you’re doing your best to keep your eyes on his face, but when he crosses his arms over that broad chest of his you falter. “i promise i won’t put anything weird in em.”

“that’s reassuring,” you say with a yawn, letting the blanket fall slightly as you cover your mouth. cheol sees your sleep shirt again, this time stretched out from your movements as you slept, and he wonders for a moment if it would look like that after he uses it to pull you closer and- “do you mind if i make coffee?”

“go for it,” cheol says, grateful for the distraction from where his mind was going. “machine’s over there.”

“thanks,” you mumble, half asleep still. you stand in front of the coffee maker for a moment, brain processing what you need to get first.

“you need me to find the instruction manual?” cheol asks, watching you the whole time you were standing there.

“make your eggs cheol.”

you empty the coffee grounds that were still in the bucket, then take a fresh filter from the stack on the counter. you move around cheol to fill the pot with water, making sure there’s enough for you all to have a cup if you want. after pouring the water in, you notice you’re missing one crucial thing. you check the counter, nothing. you try the drawers below you, then the cabinets below those. still nothing. you move to the pantry and spend a moment frustratedly moving things around in search of coffee and you come up empty once again. as you turn around to look everywhere once again, you almost jump out of your skin seeing cheol so close, watching you with an amused look in his eyes.

“jesus, you scared me,” you gasp.

“i’ll wear a bell next time,” he jokes. “looking for something?”

“the coffee, where do you keep it? please don’t tell me you’re out,” you whine, and cheol just smiles.

“you can find it on your own, i believe in you.”

“what? no, tell me.”

“and why should i do that?” cheol asks seriously.

“i don’t know, because i’m cute?” you joke.

“yeah, you are,” cheol says, holding your gaze, quirking an eyebrow to challenge you. you swear you would deck him if he wasn’t so handsome. you whirl around to look in the pantry again before you hear cheol’s deep voice just barely say “colder.”

you look at him suspiciously, and he’s back to cooking the eggs. he’s keeping one eye on you though, sneaking looks at you and trying not to smile at how ridiculously cute you are being so frustrated over this. he prompts you with a few more “cold”/”colder” clues before you whine in exasperation.

“but i already checked over here,” you complain, back in front of the machine. “i’ll just go get coffee, forget this-”

you reach out to turn the coffee maker off, and cheol mumbles “warmer.” your ears perk up, so you move your hand around the counter to get a clue. finally you lift your hand toward the cabinet above the coffee maker, and cheol says you’re getting warmer.

“hot,” he says as you finally open the cabinet, “hotter, hotter than you are, hottest, you’re on fire! be careful!” he continues, even though you’ve found the coffee and you can now finish the pot you were making. “well that took a while.”

“because someone was being childish,” you chastise him, and cheol smiles like he just won the lottery.

“but it was fun!”

“why didn’t you like that place?” joshua asks as you leave another perfectly fine apartment.

“there’s no dog park,” you reply, and your brother groans. loudly.

“you don’t even HAVE a dog,” he complains.

“but i want one! i can’t have a dog if there’s no where for it to go!”

“come on y/n, that place was nice!” joshua tries hyping it up for you. “there was so much space, way too many closets which is good for you and all your junk, and that view was amazing.”

“the view was really nice,” you concede, and josh bumps shoulders with you as you keep walking toward his apartment.

“plus it’s walking distance from me,” he smiles. “so you can bother me whenever you want.”

“that is a plus.”

“and it means you’re close to cheol too...”

“what?” you stop and look at him, and he laughs.

“i’m just saying. it’d be easy for you to visit. doesn’t matter who you’re visiting.”

ignoring joshua’s insinuations, you go back to discussing the apartment you just saw. if you wanted to apply you needed to move fast, but you were nervous. joshua listened intently as you aired all your worries, and like the good big brother he is he calmly countered each ridiculous thought with logic and only a few jokes. by the time you were walking down his hallway, you were convinced that you’d found your apartment. you grab your laptop from mingyu’s room and start working on the application, joshua peering over your shoulder every once in a while to help you decipher what it’s asking for. you’re thankful for the help, and you turn to ask him another question and almost jump out of your skin.

“jesus, make some noise next time,” you gasp, seeing shirtless cheol behind you again. he was leaning over the couch, close enough that his chin could almost lean on your shoulder.

“whatcha doin?” he asks with a cheshire cat-like grin.

“applying for an apartment,” you inform him, and you’re not sure but you think his face falls just slightly. “do you ever wear shirts at home?”

“why, is that a problem for you?” he asks. you feel like a goldfish, closing and opening your mouth like an idiot trying to decide how to respond.

“y/n?” joshua laughs as he comes back from the bathroom to see you mooning over his roommate. “you good?”

“i’m being heckled,” you finally reply, and cheol laughs.

“i asked if she needed help, sorry if that’s heckling now,” he says as he moves away from the couch.

“it is when your tits are out,” you grumble, scrolling back to the page you were working on. cheol made you mess up, but don’t tell him that.

“not like you haven’t seen them before, sweets!” cheol teases, and joshua looks between you both in amusement.

“you’ve been staring at his tits, y/n?”

“no, he just never has clothes on apparently,” you defend yourself. “he was shirtless this morning when we had breakfast too.”

“you had breakfast together?” joshua asks, looking to just cheol now. he had told josh he slept in today and that you must have made the mess in the kitchen. why didn’t he say he ate with you?

“we were in the same room when we ate, yeah,” cheol nods. joshua leaves it at that, mostly because you start whining about something you don’t understand on your application. he rejoins you at the couch and cheol goes to his room, silently cursing himself for letting josh catch him so easily. he didn’t want your brother knowing he was catching feelings, so he’ll have to play it cool from now on.

speaking of being cool, the boys keep this apartment too cold. after your first freezing night, you wore more clothes to bed thinking that would keep you warm. unfortunately, you don’t know where your hoodies are, so you had to make do. so when you wake up in the middle of the night shivering, you stomp out of your room to go bang on your brother’s door. just as you’re raising your fist to bang on his door, you hear cheol’s open down the hallway.

“you again?” you groan, not missing the fact that cheol still isn’t wearing a shirt. “how are you not freezing?”

“i am,” he replies, and you fall silent. “i was getting up to change the thermostat.”

“oh.”

“and you were..?”

“gonna complain about it to my brother?” you say sheepishly, making cheol laugh.

“joshua is the one that keeps it so cold, he would just tell you to go back to bed,” he tells you as he walks toward the thermostat. “you know you technically live here. you can adjust this if you want.”

“i know,” you nod, watching cheol move it to an acceptable temperature.

“so why didn’t you?” he asks.

“i uh, didn’t think about it.”

“no?”

“that, and i don’t...know..how to use it...” you mumble, hoping cheol drops it.

“you don’t know how to use a thermostat?” he teases with that perpetual smirk he seems to always wear around you.

“no, and at this point in my life i think it’s too late to learn,” you say. “thank you for fixing it tonight, hopefully i won’t wake up frozen in the morning.”

you try to turn and head back to bed, but cheol grabs you by the back of your shirt and pulls you toward his warm chest. he places an arm around you lightly, turning you so you’re staring at the thermostat, trying very hard to ignore cheol’s direct stare as he speaks again.

“it’s easy sweets, just push this notch,” he demonstrates, “then push the up and down buttons to change the temperature. this is good for when you want it to be cool, but if you want to clean out my wallet you can keep it a couple degrees cooler.” he finishes and turns his head back toward you again, and you notice just how close he is. you’re afraid of moving, of speaking, but cheol takes care of that for you. “any questions?”

“yeah, can you move your arm?” you whisper.

“no,” he whispers back. “why are you whispering?”

“because i’m scared?” cheol looks at you confused. “i’m afraid you’re gonna put me in a headlock.”

“you want me to?” he laughs, finally stepping back to give you some space. “do you need extra blankets or anything?”

“ah, no,” you reply. “i wanted to find my box of hoodies but i have no idea where it is, so the blankets in mingyu’s room will be fine.”

“you need a hoodie?” cheol asks, and without giving you a chance to respond he disappears into his room. he comes out with a mound of blue fabric in his hands before pushing it into your arms. “use this.”

“no, i can’t-”

“take it,” he says firmly. “or i’ll be forced to keep you warm myself.” at the sound of that threat, you hastily pull the hoodie on before thanking cheol and ducking back into your room for the night. he stands out in the hallway, smiling to himself.

you’re busy for a few days after that, finally settled at your brother’s place and able to focus back on work and finding back up apartments if the other place falls through. you’re not home much, and by the end of the week joshua sits you down to convince you that you need to go out.

“josh, i’ve had such a long week,” you start to justify. “i don’t wanna go out this weekend. i’m afraid i’d fall asleep at the club.”

“no, no, i didn’t mean anything like that,” he clarifies. “i think you need to go on a date.”

“why?” you ask, a little shocked. joshua never cared about your love life, mostly just judging from afar (and sometimes not so afar). you tend to keep that part of your life private anyway, so it’s not like you let joshua be a part of it outside of obligatory meet the partner nights with your family.

“i don’t know,” he shrugs, “i just think you’d enjoy it. i actually have this friend-”

“oh god, please don’t do this-” you start to complain, afraid josh is about to set you up with cheol.

“no, no, hear me out,” josh continues. “he’s your age, he’s sweet, he’s cute i guess, and i think you’d really like him.”

“so i’m guessing you have all of this planned?” you ask, and joshua smiles.

“be ready tomorrow at 8. he’s picking you up, and i’ll be at jeonghan’s if you want to bring him back-”

“don’t say that please,” you request, holding your hand up. “i’ll go on the date but i don’t wanna hear my brother insinuate i’m gonna have sex at his apartment.”

“i didn’t say anything, you’re the one that insinuated,” joshua laughs as he gets up, passing behind you and kissing the top of your head as he goes to his room. “you’re gonna have a great time, sis.”

despite not wanting to go on this date, you were nervous. you don’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of this guy, because he’s friends with your brother and anything embarrassing will be brought to joshua and used to ridicule you for the rest of your life. you also don’t wanna write this guy off before you meet him, because he could be nice. maybe.

that fire is quickly put out when you actually meet the guy. his name is chan, but he claims josh and all their friends call him dino. you wanted to ask why, but you were afraid of the answer. you just smiled politely and tried to lock up quickly, hoping that the faster you move the quicker this date will be over.

at the sound of the front door closing, cheol is stirred from his nap. he didn’t have any big plans, but he had gone to the gym earlier and exhausted himself so he thought he deserved some rest. he assumed the door sound meant you or joshua was home, but after checking he realized it was just him. he wonders for a moment if he should check on you, but he decides against it. instead he takes a shower and starts working on dinner, choosing a chill night to rest since he has the place to himself.

meanwhile, your date is going horribly. first of all, chan was super awkward walking with you to his car, and then he didn’t speak much on the ride to dinner. oh, well, he did, except that was only his road rage coming out. you heard this man say more cuss words in a fifteen minute car ride than you’ve heard from anyone else all year. he’s said fuck more times than he’s said your name, and quite frankly you’re not confident he knows what it is.

once you get to the restaurant, chan basically leaves you in the car. you’re not a damsel in distress, you don’t need a man to open your door for you, but it would be nice if the man you’re on a date with would at least wait until you’re out of the car to head toward the restaurant. you make it to the curb and don’t know where chan has gone until he pops out of the restaurant asking an annoyed, “you coming?”

once you’re seated, things don’t get much better. the waitress is pretty, and she’s obviously more interested in chan than you are. you’ve given up on the date by this point, but you think you can get a free meal out of it, so you keep suffering. when he’s not flirting with the waitress, chan is mansplaining to you and gesturing so wildly you’re afraid he’s going to knock everything off the table. he tries asking you questions but keeps talking over you, and when he does let you speak he either looks offended or checks his phone. before your appetizers come, you’re ready to leave.

“what did i do to deserve this?” you text joshua as you half listen to chan describe the most boring thing in the most cocky way possible. you hope joshua will respond, but there’s nothing.

“are you mad at me? is that why you tricked me into going on the worst date of my life?” you text again, and still no response.

“hey, that’s kind of rude,” chan says, and you can feel your blood start to boil.

“weren’t you on your phone when i was talking earlier?” you ask in disbelief, and he shakes his head.

“no, i wasn’t. because that’s rude,” he repeats. you want to groan and slam your head on the table, but you refrain. “whatever. i’m going to the restroom, text away.”

that you do. you keep texting joshua, trying to annoy him into responding, but he stands tall. whatever he’s doing is more important that your horrible night. you have an infinite list in your mind of things that you would rather be doing right now, so you understand josh’s disinterest.

speaking of disinterest, you look up to find chan and see him leaned over the bar talking to another waitress. this time she’s way into it, hand on his arm and phone out to take down his number. you watch as he types it in, then pull out a barstool and take a seat. now you do groan, and without leaving the table you call your brother, ready to beg for a ride back home.

“come on, pick up, pick up please,” you mumble, hoping beyond hope that joshua will be your knight in shining armor. you get his voicemail and leave behind some choice words before slamming your phone down on the table, frustrated tears threatening to fall. you’re still new to this part of town, so your brother is your only lifeline right now. you don’t trust your ability to walk home without getting snatched, and you know that calling any of your friends would mean sitting here for at least an hour while they come get you. you’re about to go hide in the bathroom when you think of one other option.

seungcheol.

you don’t know where he is or what he’s doing tonight, but you find the “temporary roomies” chat that josh put you into and call cheol from there. you start the same plea, whispering pick up over and over, but cheol answers on the second ring.

“hey sweets,” you can tell he’s smiling. “what’s going on, you and josh having fun without me?”

“cheol, hi, listen,” you start, “josh set me up on a blind date and the guy is a dick and-”

“what did he do?” cheol cuts you off, and you tell him about the car ride, the attitude, and now his interest in any woman that’s not you. “fuck him. fuck your brother too. where are you? i’m on my way.”

“cheol, no, i was mostly calling to see if josh was home-”

“send me the address, y/n,” he says firmly. “i’ll be there soon.”

he wasn’t lying. it feels like only a few minutes have passed when there’s a commotion at the door and you see cheol stalking through the restaurant looking for you. you gather your things and stand, and chan sees you out of the corner of his eye. he comes rushing over just as cheol reaches you, and it’s almost comical watching this stare down as chan gets closer.

“come on, we’re leaving,” cheol tells you, pushing a helmet into your hands.

“what is this?” you ask, eyeing chan awkwardly.

“hey, pal, we’re on a date, so she’s not going anywhere,” chan tells cheol, and he laughs in his face.

“sorry, pal, date’s over,” he says, pushing chan back lightly. “go back to the waitress. we’re done here.” cheol doesn’t wait to hear what other bullshit chan might try to say. instead he grabs you by the wrist and guides you out of the restaurant to a motorcycle propped up outside. he looks at you smoothly and motions to the helmet. “i said put that on, doll. can’t ride without protection.”

“o-ok,” you stutter, placing the helmet over your head delicately. cheol stops you and turns you toward him, clicking the helmet into place under your chin, feeling his fingers on your neck sends a tingle down your spine, and you do your best to ignore it.

“there you go,” he whispers, satisfied with his work. he grabs your head in both hands and playfully shakes you from side to side, smirking as he says, “quick road test, sorry.”

“cheol, you’re crazy,” you laugh, thankful for the distraction. “i didn’t know you drove a bike. this is cool.”

“glad you like it,” he says as he hops on. “now come on, let’s go home before i go beat that loser up.”

you carefully and tentatively hold onto cheol’s shoulder as you sling your leg over the seat, sliding down accidentally so your chest is pressed firmly to his back. you grab onto his other shoulder and wait, thinking cheol will leave any second.

“can’t hold on like that,” he seems to whisper, looking at you over his shoulder. “you’ll fall off.”

“well i don’t wanna bother you-”

“please,” you hear him scoff, and then he’s pulling your arms down to his waist. he even takes the liberty of lacing your hands together over his stomach so it’s easier for you to hold on. and suddenly you feel very warm. you can feel the outline of his muscles through his shirt, and being so close to him is getting you drunk off of whatever shampoo or cologne he’s wearing.

“cheol,” you say before he kicks off, and he’s looking back at you again. “i’m sorry about this. thank you for coming to get me.”

“anytime,” he says sweetly, his eyes flicking to your lips briefly. “now hold on tight.”

before you know it, cheol is kicking off and zooming down the near empty street, ripping a scream of surprise and joy out of you. you thought you’d be petrified right now, but this is actually exhilarating. you’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline of the motorcycle ride or the proximity to cheol, but you almost feel lightheaded. you’re shrieking and laughing like this is a rollercoaster, and there’s a smile plastered on cheol’s face as he listens.

when you get to a red light, cheol slows down and instructs you to keep your feet up as he places his firmly on the ground. he looks back at you as best he can and asks, “having fun?”

“this is incredible,” you smile. “do an extra lap. i don’t wanna go home yet.”

“yeah?” cheol asks happily, and you nod.

“wait, unless you had plans!” you say. “oh my god, cheol, i’m so sorry, i didn’t even consider that you might have been busy, oh god. i should’ve asked, i should’ve-”

“stop talking,” he tells you. “i’m glad you called. i’d do this for you every day of the week if you needed it.”

“thank you,” you say meekly as cheol revs the bike before carefully driving again. you ride and listen to the sound of the city get whipped by around you, watching the lights and realizing how much you’re enjoying yourself. you lay your chin on cheol’s shoulder and think about the butterflies in your stomach, noticing that they’re going more wild now than they ever have before.

when you get back to the apartment, you’re immediately met with the smell of food. you’re about to cuss joshua out, assuming he had been home this whole time, until cheol walks ahead of you into the kitchen and asks, “did you get to eat on this horrible mistake i just saved you from?”

“hey, whoa, i was doing this because of my brother,” you say defensively. “it wasn’t my mistake, i was bamboozled.”

“you could’ve said no,” cheol shrugs as he leans against the doorway. then he holds your gaze and asks, “why didn’t you say no?”

“i-i don’t know,” you reply, turning away because cheol’s stare is too heavy for your right now. “i guess, yeah, i did it because i thought it would make josh happy since he set it up, but...i don’t know. it would be nice to have someone, i guess.”

“to have someone?” cheol smirks, taking a step or two closer to you.

“yeah, like have someone be mine,” you say shyly, looking up to find cheol closer than you expected. he stands in front of you, smirk hanging off his lips, arms loosely crossed over his broad chest.

“you have me,” he says, moving so close to you that you can feel his breath on your lips. he holds your gaze, waiting for you to make a move. awkwardly, you lean in, lips almost brushing. you get nervous and try to back away but cheol quickly grabs you by the chin and whispers, “and i’ve got you” before connecting your lips. your hands fall to his chest, obliviously rubbing your hands over his muscles. his touch to your chin stays gentle but firm, holding you in place so he can devour your lips. you’re breathless quick, but you don’t want to pull away. the sound of keys in the front door scare you out of your daze, and you separate from cheol like you’ve been shocked. joshua walks in, unaware (or is he?) of what he just interrupted. pleased with himself, he looks from you to cheol and back to you before asking, “so...how was your night?”

you’ve been avoiding cheol. you can’t believe you kissed him, and you can’t believe you liked it. you liked it so much that you’re afraid of what might happen if you’re around him again, because nothing can happen. he’s your brother’s best friend! it’s like reverse bro code to date your brother’s friend. that would be...weird? and yet here you are, daydreaming about it.

cheol knows what you’re doing. he knows you’ve been spooked, and he’s annoyed. now that he’s had a taste of you he only wants more, so you hiding from him when he’s out of his room or only leaving yours when he’s in the shower or asleep is really getting on his nerves. you can’t avoid him forever, but damn it if you’re not gonna try.

you’re currently speedrunning all of your chores, trying to clean the bathroom while your laundry is on and in between you’re washing all of your dirty dishes. you’re doing this because you know cheol will come out of his room soon to go to the gym, so you’re hoping to be tucked away safely in your room before that happens. however, the biggest man in the apartment still manages to move like a mouse, so you turn around to put some plates away and find cheol leaning against the kitchen counter, watching you intently.

“fuck you, stop sneaking up on me!” you shriek. “i’m serious about that bell now. wear loud shoes or something, god.”

“why, so you can hear me coming and hide?” he asks seriously, and you fall silent. you join him on the other side of the room, stretching to put the plates in the cabinet. cheol keeps watching, realizing this is the first time he’s seen you show so much skin. shorts pulled up just barely over your ass, like usual, driving him insane, like usual. but now you’re just wearing a sports bra on top, and cheol doesn’t miss the way you’re giving him the perfect view of your chest. he’s unapologetically staring, and without facing him you mumble telling him to stop. “i can stare if i want.”

“well can you stop, please?” you beg, turning and crossing your arms over your chest, just pressing your cleavage up more.

“baby, work with me here,” he groans. “you can’t kiss me like that the other night and then hide from me. and you can’t look like that and not expect me to stare.”

“stop telling me what i can and can’t do,” you grumble, trying to remember what you were about to do. you start to walk away but cheol grabs you lightly by the wrist, and you ask nicely, “let me go.”

“you can leave,” cheol encourages. “i’m not holding on tight.”

but you stay right where you are, a few steps away from cheol. his hand slides down from your wrist to lace his fingers with yours. he squeezes your hand sweetly before tugging you back in front of him, a stupid smirk gracing his handsome face.

“hi beautiful,” he smiles, making you blush. “so tell me. am i a bad kisser or something?”

“what?” you ask, shocked he would even think that. “n-no, why?”

“well,” he sighs, hands sliding around your waist too quick for you to object, “it’s just that we kissed, and i thought it was pretty sexy, and then you just disappeared on me. which is amazing considering we live together right now.”

“i’m good at teleporting,” you joke, and cheol pinches your hip.

“answer me, y/n,” he tries again. “why are you hiding?”

“because you’re joshua’s friend,” you say with a face. “i can’t date you.”

“who said anything about dating?” cheol smiles. “we’ve got two beds, sweets. take your pick.”

“you can’t be serious.”

“you don’t want to?” cheol asks, seemingly dragging you closer to himself. he slots his leg between yours, leans in close and asks, “so if i check your panties right now, they wouldn’t be wet?”

“cheol, i-”

“hm?” he asks, pulling back enough to look right in your eyes. “you don’t want this, just say the word and i’m gone. but if you do, baby, please let me do this.”

“joshua can’t know,” you whisper fast before you’re grabbing cheol and kissing him again. his hands slide from their spot on your waist to cup your ass, nudging your core over his thigh. you whimper at the slight drag, and cheol tenses his thigh as he brings your hips forward again.

“i don’t even need to put my hand down your pants to know you’re wet,” he says proudly. “you ok with soaking my thigh a little bit first, baby?” you nod, and he tsks. “you need to use your words. not gonna do anything unless i know you want it.”

“let me keep going,” you say breathlessly, and cheol easily obliges. he dives back into your lips, hands gripping your ass to keep you grinding over his thigh. you get lost in the pressure between your legs, but you don’t want to be interrupted like you were last time. you try to break from cheol’s lips but he brings a hand up to keep you in place, doing his best to memorize the shape of your lips with his. you realize you need to get his attention a different way, so you reach down to cup his cock through his shorts. he hisses at the contact, lips pulled from yours. “cheol, stop.”

“what, what’s wrong?” he asks, worried.

“let’s go to my room,” you say with a nod, and his eyes shimmer with lust and a bit of glee. he’s dragging you down the hallway with him, doing his best not to tear your clothes off and leave a trail. once he’s in your room, you push him back lightly so you can be sure to shut the door. cheol takes this time to lay back on your pillows, patting his thigh to invite you back. you join him on the bed, ready to straddle him and go back to grinding down on his stupidly thick thigh, but he stops you.

“shorts off,” he instructs, and you pull them off eagerly. “let me see your panties.” your legs on either side of his, you sit up and lean back, hoping cheol gets what he wants. he hums and nods when he sees the wet patch, grabbing for your waist to pull you back over his leg. “let’s get you warmed up a little more, need you ready to ride me soon.”

cheol brings your core back down to his thigh, guiding your movements as you whine on top of him. you’re not sure what to do with your hands, so you let one of them wander up to push your bra over your chest, playing with your nipple as cheol guides you agonizingly slow. you try to bounce and get more friction but that makes him hold you down tighter and your whines get louder.

“that’s it baby, show me how pretty you are when you come and then i’ll give you my cock,” he growls out, a hand slipping down to push past the waistband of your panties. he swipes a finger down to play with your clit and he moans when he feels how wet you are. “all this for me, pretty girl?”

“yes, for you, just like that,” you moan, “make me come please, need to come.”

“you can come,” cheol coaxes. “just waiting on you.” he applies a little more pressure over your clit, and then you’re shaking above him, a soundless gasp left on your lips. as you try to blink away the spots in your eyes, you hurriedly help cheol get undressed, crawling down to his cock before he can stop you. you pull his boxers down as he takes his shirt off, and you gasp when you see his size. you grab him by the base and take a taste, kitten licking his tip and driving him crazy. he wants to wrap his hands in your hair and guide you over his cock, but an equal part wants to pull you up just so he can feel your pussy clenching around him. he lets you decide the pace though, hissing through his teeth as you keep licking him, until you’re ready to swallow his cock little by little. you get halfway down before you need to pull back, and you’re worried he won’t fit.

“not to feed your ego or anything,” you say after popping off of his cock, “but you’re really big.”

“no that definitely feeds my ego.”

“i don’t think you’re gonna fit,” you say, worried.

“well get in my lap and we’ll find out, sweets,” he says, reaching for you to help you up and over his legs again. he holds his cock still for you as you line him up with your entrance, and you glance at him one last time, still concerned. “take it slow. i know you can do it.”

“but-”

“baby, i’m letting you pick the pace,” he laughs. “if it were up to me i would’ve slammed you down on my cock already.”

“hmm someone’s horny,” you joke, and cheol thrusts up in retaliation. you gasp at the feeling of his tip at your entrance, and you do what he says. you take it slow, holding your breath as you feel him stretch you out with every inch.

“how you feeling baby?”

“good,” you gasp out.

“make sure you breathe,” cheol reminds you, and you nod as you take a few deep breaths. he can feel every movement on his cock, and it’s driving him insane to not be fully inside you right now. he tries to push you down a little further, but you cry out and he stops. he gives you a moment to adjust, and you move on your own when you’re ready. you keep pushing down, taking more and more. “you’re doing so good baby.”

“it’s too big,” you gasp out, looking down to see how much you have left to go.

“no it’s not.”

“but it is,” you whine, trying to pull up completely. that’s the last straw for cheol though, because he grips your hips and slams you down over his cock, your clit even grinding over his pubic bone slightly. you shudder at the feeling, shocked speechless at the feeling of cheol’s cock so deep inside you. he helps you ride him at first, but you take over and start a steady pace. you don’t think you’ve ever felt someone this deep before, and your body feels like it’s on fire.

“you can take it, that’s it,” he encourages, and you pick up the pace. cheol starts meeting you halfway, adjusting so he can hit your core just right. when he thrusts up and you almost fall over on top of him he knows he’s found the right spot, doing his best to keep his pace steady. he pulls you down so you’re caging him in, and he lays your head on his chest as he takes over, thrusting into you so fast you start seeing stars. you’re moaning into his chest, maybe drooling a little too, and it’s driving him insane. you feel so good around him, so warm, so tight, so wet. the sounds of your pussy are embarrassing to you and intoxicating to him, he wishes he had the patience to lay between your legs and lick you clean before fucking you again. but he’ll save that for later. for now, he needs to find a place to come. “where do you want me?”

“stomach,” you mumble into his chest, sitting back up with your hands on his pecs. “gonna come?”

“if you come first, yeah,” cheol nods. he focuses on bringing you closer, grabbing one of your hands off his chest and guiding it to your lips. you open, and he tells you to suck. after you’ve wet your middle and ring finger, cheol brings them down to your clit, leading your movements and applying pressure as he wants. it’s so sexy, letting him lead you like this, and the way he’s staring at you is making your chest tingle, and his cock is still buried deep inside you as you start getting closer. when cheol pulls you down with his free hand, connecting your lips again, you start to come, whimpering into his mouth as the waves crash over you. he works you through it, giving you only a second or two to rest before he’s pumping you again, chasing his own release. he pulls out and immediately starts stroking his cock, coming with a quiet gasp. you shudder as you feel his come land across your stomach, some even hitting your pussy lips. you lean back to let him see his masterpiece, and cheol looks pleased.

“let me get a washcloth,” you mumble, moving to get up. once you’re off of him, cheol springs into action, guiding you to lay back down.

“no, you’ll be sore soon, let me do it,” he says before ducking out of your room. he comes back with a wet washcloth and waters for you both, which you take graciously. he cleans you up carefully, and then he joins you back on the bed. the last thing you remember before falling asleep is cheol pushing your hair back, smiling at you softly.

you wake up the next morning to a knock at your door, followed by another louder knock.

“what?” you groan, rolling over to face the door just as joshua pops in.

“morning to you too,” he yawns. “i’m getting breakfast. text me what you want.”

“mhm,” you yawn in reply. “close my door.”

josh leaves without doing what you asked, and there’s a beat of silence before you hear the front door close. you feel hands wrap around your waist, pulling you into a strong, warm, bare chest. cheol pops his chin onto your shoulder, cheesing as he asks, “you think he knew i was here?”

4K notes · View notes

dollfacefantasy · 5 months

Text

Some Extra Lessons

pairing: professor!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: professor kennedy’s got it bad for one of his students. little does he know, you feel the same way for him.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, thigh riding, fingering, edging, age gap (36/college aged), teacher/student, daddy kink, sir kink, praise/degradation

word count: 7k

a/n: hey everybody. hope everyone had nice holidays if you celebrate them. and happy new year! i'm not sure how i feel about this one but eh. i got things cooking so stay tuned 🫵. as always, thank you for your comments and reblogs. smooches <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus

Mondays and Wednesdays. Those are fast becoming Leon’s two favorite days of the week. For most people, they’re probably the worst days. The first day back to work, and the other right in the middle of the week; when they’ve already had enough but it feels like the weekend is still years away. But not for Leon. Not anymore. Those days are now sacred to him because they are the days he gets to see you.

You’re his favorite student this semester by far, no one else even comes close. He noticed you early on in the beginning weeks, quiet but attentive. You would sit off to the side by yourself, always taking notes or scanning what was on the board.

It made him feel like such a perv when he first noticed his own lingering gazes and heart palpitations when you walked in the room. He tried to justify it. It wasn’t everyday he had someone like you sitting a few rows away from him, hanging on every word he said.

He’s only human, he tried reasoning. He couldn’t help but always notice the cute little outfits you wore to class, teasing just enough of your body to keep him ogling you for more. You did your hair in pretty styles and coated your pouty lips in shimmery gloss. He had to force his eyes to move around the room to other students when he spoke. His natural instinct was to keep them locked on you while his head filled with images of his hands squeezing those cute tits or his cock sliding between your shiny lips.

Despite those fantasies, he left you alone. It was wrong, inappropriate, he told himself. He shouldn’t be lusting after his student, let alone pursuing her. You were just a sweet girl trying to get an education. He couldn’t let his perversions interfere with that.

But as the weeks passed and more classes went by, he got to know you. You seemed pretty shy but not insecure. In class, you’d do your work alone, but if there was ever a lull in his lecture, you’d raise your hand to offer an answer, help him out a little. That was how he had bridged the gap between you two even though he hadn’t meant it as anything more than what it was.

He had just dismissed everyone, making a corny joke about the poor grades he’d given so far on an essay that had been due. A small smile graced your lips. Sure, the joke wasn’t that funny, but you had a fat crush on Mr. Kennedy so everything he said was a little funny.

You were scrawling down a few remaining notes before you would leave for the day when you heard his voice call your name. Immediately, your head tilted up to look at him. He beckoned you over with a wave of his hand. You were still wondering what this could be about as your hands slid your notebook into your backpack and your feet carried you towards him.

“Yes, Mr. Kennedy?” you say softly when you approach his desk. You rest your palms on the edge of the table as you await the reason behind this encounter.

“Hey, I just wanted to thank you for your participation. You know, I appreciate that, and I know it’s not fair to you to have that expected of you when you didn’t sign up for it,” he begins.

“Oh, it’s no problem, sir. I really don’t mind,” you say, smiling at him.

“Sir? So polite,” he jokes with a smile of his own. The remark had come out before he could stop himself with a mental scolding about being normal with you.

Your cheeks burn, and you glance down at your shoes timidly. Your heartbeat was already faster than normal just from having his eyes focused on you alone. With him teasing you, it felt like your chest was going to explode.

This was the closest you’d ever been to him, the most you’d ever spoken to one another. Up close it was even more apparent how handsome he was. He didn’t look like any other professors you had. His blonde hair fell into his face and partially obscured one of his eyes. His shirt was undone a button lower than was probably professional.

“And I wanted to tell you that I got your email about your late assignment,” he says. He could see your embarrassment. He would have felt more guilt about causing it if you didn’t look so precious like that. He pushes those thoughts away though as you look up again, anxiety in your eyes.

“Oh yeah, I’m really sorry about that. I promise you that it’s a one time thing. I don’t normally have that problem, and I just wanted you to know that. Didn’t want you to get the wrong impression,” you say.

He cuts off your apology with a chuckle and places his hand over yours, covering your manicured nails with the rough skin of his palm.

“It’s alright, honey,” he says, “I can tell you’re a good girl. I don’t mind giving you a break.”

Good girl. You shift in place upon hearing those two words. It’s like a small match ignites in your belly, inching closer to the larger fuse.

So naive. So well-intentioned. That’s what he saw looking at you in that moment. He could almost see into you, see your mind trying to figure out a response, to discern if he was purposely flirting or clueless like you.

Your eyes cast down, and a shy smile breaks out on your face. After wrapping up the conversation and finishing with a soft murmur of “Thank you Mr. Kennedy,” you practically skip out of the room. A swirl of almost every good emotion you’ve ever felt blooms in your chest because of his attention.

He smirks, watching that sweet ass sway back and forth as you bound up the steps to the door. How you seem to walk with your shoulders back and chest out after the small praise he gave you. God, he was practically drooling. He imagined himself looking like a cartoon character, silhouettes of hearts in his eyes and his tongue rolled out of his mouth.

But no, this was wrong. Point blank, it’s that simple. Or at least it should be.

After that day, he relented a little. He decided that some slight teasing was harmless. But he swore it would be just that, nothing further. That small voice in his head tried to defend it. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy the attention. You’d blush and fidget in your seat when he shot you an amorous look. Or you’d smile and flit your eyes away as he’d tuck some hair behind your ear when he’d come over to your desk after class to ask if you understood everything.

And as he weakened, your infatuation intensified. These classes became the highlights of your week. You’d fantasize about the pet name he’d call you on Monday or how his eyes would roam over your body on Wednesday. Walking to class, ringing through your head was simply Mr. Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy. While you traveled home, he danced through your mind to your thoughts about him that sounded like a love song.

Even with the huge torch you carried for him, you could never work up the nerve to make the big move. Every time you’d imagine sitting in his lap, your lips moving with his, all you could think about was what if it was all in your head? All those little looks and sweet words just blown out of proportion in your mind. Could you handle baring your soul to him if he reacted with anything other than reciprocation?

These questions bothered you as the semester went on, but nothing really changed. Leon was the same way, of course, all while you were unaware. He could only imagine how freaked out you would be if he made any attempt on you.

Lately, the two of you had been spending more time together. You were staying after class more to get “additional help.” Lingering around his desk, you’d timidly started approaching him, and he was happy to give you the aide.

Today, he dismisses everyone else before waving you over with a smug smile. You grab your things and scamper down to his desk with your own happy expression. You slide into the chair he pulled next to his seat. You open your laptop and start showing him the things you didn’t understand. In reality, you understood just fine, but for the sake of being around him, you’d bite your lip and look up at him through your lashes as if you’d missed entire classes worth of information.

“I just have trouble with memorization. I get confused between the words and their definitions,” you explain.

“Oh alright,” he responds softly, eyes scanning over the screen and then finding your face, “There’s a couple of things I think could help. Acronyms, stuff like that.”

He starts explaining the strategy to you, but like always, you have to fight a mental war to stay focused. You nod along, trying your best to act attentive. It was so hard though because… he’s him.

You scoot your chair a little closer to his to get a better view of the laptop and notice his breath hitch. Your body freezes, but instead of feeling that familiar fear of rejection come over you, confidence begins simmering inside your chest. The change in his breathing meant something, he was reacting to this too. Maybe you could do this after all.

For now, you try to act natural, moving along the conversation with another question.

“Is there anything else though? Because I struggle to attach the definitions too, not just remember the words,” you say, leaning in a little more.

He turns his head to look at you completely, eyes locked on yours. You felt like you were losing your footing a little staring into them. “Mhm. I can show you how to link the two. Break down the word to get the meanings of the parts and…” he continues on as you zone out.

His voice was huskier now, and that simmer of confidence continues to build within you. You keep nodding with every pause in his speech, your doe eyes looking up at him.

“That makes sense,” you say when he finishes, still unable to look away. Your heart pounds as you make a decision. You place your hand on his thigh. You try to act natural, as if it’s just a casual gesture of affirmation. But you can see in his eyes that he knows better.

“Yeah? Do you need help with anything else then?” he asks slowly, watching your face for reactions.

“I think so,” you say as your voice grows a little breathier.

“What is it?” he asks. He leans in a little more and you can feel his hot breath fanning over you.

“I have some more questions…” you say.

“About?” he says, eyes dropping to your lips for a moment.

Head tilting down, your foot moves over to lightly brush up against his leg. You bite your lip, looking the most timid he’d ever seen you, which was saying a lot. But you force yourself to keep going while you have this burst of hope.

“Some special tutoring…” you offer.

“Special tutoring?” he repeats with a raise of his eyebrow, looking down at your foot rubbing at his ankle. He hesitates but decides to then take your hand and stand up. “If we’re discussing something like that, we should probably go to my personal office. Wouldn’t want us to get interrupted by the next class in here.”

“Oh yeah,” you immediately agree. You grab your stuff and your fingers link with his as he leads you out of the classroom, down the hall to his office. Passing bulletin boards of flyers and other students heading to their next class, you realize it probably looks a little odd to be holding his hand, letting him guide you around. But it just turned you on more, feeling dependent, controlled.

After a while, you reach the door with the stick-on placard reading “Leon Kennedy.” Your heart pounds as you shuffle through the entrance. The office was a decent size, having a desk, some book shelves, and a small loveseat in the back corner of the room.

He slides past you and walks behind his desk, taking a seat in his chair that was clearly much more comfortable than the generic one in the lecture room. It dawned on you though that that was the only other chair in the room. There was the couch, but that was too far away from the desk for your purposes.

You approach the desk, similar to how you did all those weeks ago when this first started. He looks up at you with hesitant desire in his eyes.

“Why don’t you c’mere?” he asks.

“Ok,” you respond shyly. You drop your stuff near his desk and pad around it to approach him. Standing between his muscular thighs, you almost can’t focus from the volume of your pulse in your ears. His eyes look you up and down, more overtly than they ever had in the past. It now felt like you were hurtling towards a collision without a possibility of stopping.

After a moment of silence, he rips you from your thoughts. “Go ahead and ask your questions,” he says.

“Oh yeah,” you say, perking up a little since you had nearly forgotten about your facade of innocent curiosity. “I was just wondering if I could maybe start getting some… extra help.”

He chuckles and leans back in his chair. The maneuver gives you a better view of his broad chest and sculpturesque arms. You feel even more flustered, and you know it’s about to get worse because he obviously picks up on it.

“I don’t really think you need extra help quite honestly. Your grade is fine, and you seem to understand a lot, even the tedious things you ask questions about,” he says, a subtle arrogance on his face as he drags this out.

“No, I really think I do,” you say softly, shifting back and forth in place.

His eyes look up at you with a knowing glint. He shakes his head with a smirk as his gaze falls down to your legs that couldn’t stand still.

“With what? Like I said, even those things you pretend to not know, you obviously do. You ace every test, and while I’d like to believe it, I don’t think my advice is that helpful.”

As the words left his mouth, Leon knew he was getting into dangerous territory, leading you to a place neither of you could just return from. The rational part of his mind was slamming on his mental brakes to no avail.

You were in a similar place, your mind racing and trying to decide whether to go for it or not. After a quick moment, it was as if a bright neon sign flashes in your mind. The words telling you to try. You decide on moving forward and ignoring the other part of you that’s telling you to turn around and walk out the door right now.

You sit on his lap, straddling him with each of your legs on either side of his thigh. You look down as your fingertips drag along the waistline of his pants.

“I just think there are other things I could learn from you,” you say, your voice shaking from your nerves.

“Tell me what they are,” he breathes. His own heart slams against his ribcage at your gesture. His natural instincts scream at him to pull you close and take what he wants, making his fantasies reality.

“It’s easier for me to show you,” you say. You felt if you had to speak anymore you might lose your nerve, so you go all in. You lean forward and connect your lips. With feather light kisses, you move your mouth on his.

At first, he doesn’t kiss back, and fear zaps through you. After a moment of shock though, he reciprocates. Your hands slide up his chest while he grabs your hips to pull you closer. The two of you go at it a little longer with soft smooches. Then he feels your tongue swipe against his bottom lip.

He pulls back and looks at you. He couldn’t do this. But God, just look at you. Your chest heaving with your heavier breathing, those plush lips wet with saliva, pretty eyes looking at him like a pleading puppy. He groans and runs a hand over his face and through his hair. His head falls back against his chair.

“Sweetheart… we shouldn’t do this,” he says, not looking at you to try and keep his resolve.

You bite your lip as your eyes widen with anxiety. “Did I do something wrong?” you say, shaky voice returning.

You try to keep it together. He still wasn’t looking at you, but you silently vow to yourself that you wouldn’t cry from the rejection. There would truly be no coming back from that. It would be hard enough seeing him on Monday as it was. If you shed any tears, you’d have to drop the class regardless of how close the end of the semester was.

“No, honey. I did. I just… it’s wrong,” he offers weakly, not convinced of his own excuse, “I shouldn’t have let it get this far. I’m sorry.”

Despite your internal promise, you felt barbs scraping at your throat with each swallow. Hot, stinging tears pricking at your eyes. You try to push it all back down, spare yourself some dignity.

“But- But don’t you-” you start, cutting yourself off to maintain your composure. You take a deep breath before finishing. “Don’t you like me?”

Leon cracks his eyes open and looks down at you. A critical error. He felt like such a dick. There you were, still on his lap, lip quivering, eyes lined with tears and full of uncertainty. He managed to make this into what he wanted to avoid, a complete mess.

“No- I mean yes, I like you a lot. That isn’t the issue here. We- I… we just can’t do this. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let it go on this long,” he sighs, hands falling to your hips to move you off his lap.

Now, tears were really threatening to fall. You grab his shoulders to stabilize yourself and stop him from lifting you up. Your mind scrambles for an argument that could work.

“Why?” is all you can manage. As if you didn’t know.

“Baby, I’m your teacher. It wouldn’t be right,” he says, forcing himself to remain unaffected by the kicked puppy look you had going on, “I have to stay objective, and that’s hard enough with a cute little thing like yourself.” He smirks at the end of his statement and rubs your cheek, trying to lighten the mood.

It doesn’t work, your eyes are fixated on his belt buckle as a part of the strategy to keep your tears from leaking out. You subconsciously lean into his hand on your face though, a gesture that makes his heart melt. You just nod faintly. Think, think, think, think, you tell yourself.

“But it won’t be like you’re cheating for me. I get good grades. It’s not like I’m fucking you to pass…” you reason.

“I know that, sweetheart, and you know that. But you have to understand. Think about it. What if people found out? I’d be risking my job, and I can’t imagine it would go well for you either,” he says softly, stroking some of your hair behind your ear.

“No one will find out,” you say. Your head tilts up so you can look into his eyes.

He immediately looks away, afraid he would cave if he stared into those sweet spheres of desire. You catch this, realizing it may be your way ahead.

“You’re a sweet girl, honey. Pretty and smart. The kind any man would be lucky to have. If this was a different situation, I wouldn’t hesitate. Not for a second. But it’s not,” he says, looking pained.

You push your lip out a little more and let one tear fall from each eye before quickly wiping them away, smearing the warm liquid across your cheek. Leaning forward, you wrap your arms around him and press yourself to his chest. You look up at him, forcing him to make eye contact.

“I don’t want any man though,” you say quietly. You keep your stare locked on him, your eyes big and vulnerable to accentuate your point. “Please, sir.”

His cock jumps at the title leaving your lips. He sucks in a breath and tilts his head back. “Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he says with a hushed groan.

You scoot forward a little bit, your hips grinding down on his lap with the motion. Your nose drags against his throat as you nuzzle his neck. You lay a kiss to his pulse point before murmuring, “Just a few more kisses? Then I won’t bring any of it up again. Pretty please.”

“Kisses…” he trails off, pondering the idea. Just a few more kisses. An obvious lie. But one he would at least pretend to believe just so he could have those sweet lips on his again. “Fine, but that’s it. You understand?”

“Mhm,” you respond without thinking. You lean up and kiss him. It’s not soft or gentle like the first time. This go is passionate from the beginning. Lips move together, and again, your tongue works to gain entry to his mouth.

The two of you make out for definitely more than a few kisses. Your hand slides up from his shoulder to the base of his neck, lightly tugging on his hair. He groans and squeezes your waist. You gasp between kisses at the sensation and grind your hips down again in response.

He grunts as he feels it, his cock getting a little stiff at the feeling. You do it again with a whimper. This time his fingers dig into your flesh, holding you with more authority.

“Be good, only a few more kisses, remember?” he grunts against your lips.

Continuing to kiss, you take a break from moving your hips and push your body against his again. Your soft tits push up against his chest. He tries to draw back, feeling cracks in his resolve as the warm globes meld with him. The backing of his chair stops him from getting too far away though. He grunts and his grip gets more firm, trying to keep you in a suitable position.

“Stay still. Think I’m giving you more than you asked for anyway. Don’t make me cut it off here,” he mumbles before going back in.

It was risky, but you felt like you had him. You felt him half hard between your legs and could feel his breath coming out in longer puffs. You do it again, rolling your hips on him, dragging your cunt over his bulge through the layers of clothing that separated you.

He growls and nips at your lip before harshly lifting your hips off his lap. You’re hovering above the growing tent in his jeans. You lightly rock them a few times with a pout, testing to see if you can get any kind of friction.

“What did I say?” he asks.

“It’s not fair, sir,” you whimper, ignoring his question.

“Oh, it’s not?” he says, maintaining his stern demeanor, “What’s so unfair?”

“Leading me on,” you huff.

Mix a bit of truth in with your seductive game, and you have him now. Real guilt and frustration swirls with the lust in the pit of his belly. He was all in now. There was no way you were leaving this office without his cum leaking from you.

“I told you what you were getting. You thought you could get away with being greedy,” he chides. He lifts you even more and puts you on your feet in front of him, between his thighs again. “Take your pants off.”

Your eyes widen. This was going to happen. Your fingers make quick work of your jeans, snapping the button and dropping them to pool around your ankles. You step out of them and nudge them to the side. He smirks up at you, standing there in your tight t-shirt and frilly pink panties. Of course, everything about you was cute.

His hands return to your hips and pull you on top of him. This time you aren’t on his lap though. You land on his thigh. You look down at the limb beneath you and then back at his face.

“Don’t play dumb now. You wanna rub that needy pussy on something, go ahead,” he says.

“But-“ you start before he cuts you off with a sharp smack on the ass.

“I don’t want to hear any complaining. You should count yourself lucky I’m letting you even do this,” he says as his hand rubs and kneads the cheek he just slapped, “Normally, I wouldn’t accept my little girl just doing whatever she wants like that. But because it’s your first time, I’m giving you a break. Gonna help fix this problem you’re having, thinking from between your legs instead of with that pretty little head.”

Your entire face heats up as he lays into you like that. You start rocking your hips, dragging yourself on his clothes thigh. You watch his face for approval as you go, but his eyes are transfixed on your lower body at the moment.

“There you go, baby. That’s right,” he says encouragingly before cracking you on the ass again, “Little faster. Wanna see how bad you’ve been wanting this.”

You do as he says, rolling your hips with more speed and force. The fabric of your panties begins to dampen with your arousal as you press onto it. Whimpers fall from your lips as you grind your swollen pussy on his muscle. He gives you some help, guiding your movements by holding your hips. You softly gasp a few times, biting your lip as you continue to rut against him.

“Look at you,” he coos. Your tits bounce beneath your t-shirt as you ride his thigh. “Been thinking about this a lot, sweetheart? Dream about this while you’re sitting in class, hm? Humping my leg like a dumb little puppy.”

“Yes,” you choke out and toss your head back. A guttural moan leaves you, and he chuckles, giving your hip a tighter squeeze.

“Quiet, babydoll. Don’t want anyone outside this room hearing. I don’t think they’d believe this is just some ‘special tutoring,’” he says.

You keep up your grinding, your pussy sensitive to the rough fabric of his pants even through your panties. He tries to help you quiet down by pulling you closer and cradling your head against his shoulder, muffling your sounds against his shirt. The cloth becomes wet with your spit as your hushed moans spill out.

After going for a little while longer, he can tell you’re getting close. It’s obvious in the way your hips sputter every couple of thrusts, how your voice is getting whinier, how your body contracts every few moments. Your hands curl into fists, clutching the fabric of his shirt.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers, “Getting close, baby? Think you’re gonna cum soon?”

“Yes, sir,” you whimper.

“Aw, so polite,” he teases just like he had those weeks ago, “Well, tell me when you’re right there. Gonna make it extra special.”

You nod obediently and continue working yourself to the high point. Your breaths become sharper and movements get more erratic. You feel the band of pleasure stretching inside you, ready to snap.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum, “ you ramble out.

“Not yet, you aren’t,” he says.

With a menacing grin, he yanks your hips up and flips you around. Mind spinning from the sudden loss of pleasure, you whine and squirm on his lap. A pointless struggle seeing how your soaked panties were faced out away from any potential source of friction. Your back’s flush against the warmth of his chest. You can feel his heartbeat thudding behind you as his hands curl around the back of your legs and bring them up so that your feet are planted on his thighs. Your head slumps back against his shoulder, turning to look up at him, pleading frustration projecting from your eyes.

One of his arms snakes around your waist while the other comes up to stroke your chin with his thumb. He looks down at you, eyes full of amusement as he toys with you.

“Now that was really unfair, wasn’t it pretty girl?” he taunts.

You arch your back off his chest with another whine before collapsing against his broad form again. You nod, feeling the sparks of ecstasy dwindle within you.

“You’re a tease,” you huff.

“I am?” he mocks.

He begins trailing his hand down your front, stopping level with your breasts. He squeezes them gently with some firm caresses from his fingers. Then he lowers his hand further and slips it beneath your shirt. Your breath hitches as he begins stroking the soft skin of your belly up to the valley between your breasts. His palm slides beneath the cups of your bra, feeling the bare skin of your chest. He alternates between each. The rough pads of his fingertips drag over the sensitive flesh of your nipples, giving them tender pinches that draw hushed mewls from you.

“So soft, baby,” he whispers with a kiss to your temple.

It felt nice, made your breasts feel heavy and achy, begging to be touched. Had your head hot and airy, unable to control the way you melted against him or the sweet noises that escaped you. But you couldn’t really enjoy that because your pussy was still throbbing, still desperately searching for the orgasm that was stolen from you. You squirm again, pushing your ass back against the bulge you felt growing in his pants.

“Please, sir. Please,” you whimper, “Wanna cum.”

You feel his lips curl into a smile against the side of your head, but his tone remains rough and commanding. “I think the next thing I gotta teach you is patience.”

Retracting his hand from your bra, he smooths it back down your stomach to the hem of your panties. His fingers fidget with one of the strips of lace on the garment while he stares into your eyes.

“You know, baby, I think you’re the tease here,” he breathes. He rubs the skin just above your panties and then moves under the fabric. His digits glide through your slick folds, the touch meandering, just at the border of giving you pleasure. “I mean, I think you know what you’ve been doing.”

“What?” you say, struggling to take in his words when you were fixated on his touches to your center.

“You act like a dumb little doll, sweetheart, but I know you’re not. I know you know how to play. Parading around in those pretty outfits, something always on your lips, always saying ‘yes sir,’” he whispers. His digits circle your clit at a painfully slow pace. He brushes over it slightly, giving you hope before flattening his hand over your cunt. You get ready to whine about the teasing before he pushes two fingers inside you.

“Mr. Kennedy,” you gasp, head pressing back further against his shoulder.

“Oh, and how could I forget my favorite, ‘Mr. Kennedy.’ But I think it’s about time you start calling me Leon, babydoll. No need to be so formal anymore,” he says as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right.

You shake your head and whimper. His palm rubs down on your puffy clit with every thrust of his hand.

“Oh no?” he teases, “You like Mr. Kennedy taking care of you, making you feel good?”

Your eyes roll back as you nod. “Mhm. Yes… s-sir,” you say.

You stumble over the word ‘sir.’ Leon catches it immediately, and he’s certain he knows why. He knows what you really wanted to call him.

“Mmm, good girl,” he purrs in your ear, seeing the way the praise pulls extra gasps from you, makes your eyes all glossy, “You’re so sweet, baby. So precious.”

He lays it on thick, trying to get you to crack and say the word on the tip of your tongue. His fingers massage your sensitive spots as they consistently slide into your dripping cunt. You bite your lip, more whimpers coming from you. You look up at him again through your lashes.

“Thank you, sir,” you say, voice all soft and dreamy as you start climbing to that high.

“Of course, babydoll. You deserve it,” he says into your hair, “But you know, I still think ‘sir’ is too professional. Makes me feel like I’m at work. Plus, I get the feeling you have another name in mind too.”

“I- I do?” you ask, looking up at him curiously. He smiles at your naivety and the way you try to get your words out around your whimpers.

“Oh yeah. I can already hear it, sweetheart. You like being taken care of, being doted on. I can see it. All you want is to be a good girl for…”

“Daddy,” you whine, your eyes squeezing shut.

“That’s right,” he chuckles. He speeds up his fingers, delving as deep as possible. A quiet squeal erupts from you, and he hushes you while kissing your cheek a few times. You try to keep your noises down even as your hips buck and your heels dig into the meat of his thighs.

“Daddy I- Daddy, Daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you moan.

“Aw, but I don’t want my baby to cum yet,” he mocks. Just as quick as the release had built in you, it was gone. He pulls his fingers out of your hole, and your eyes widen. You whimper in disbelief, hips squirming as if they could find that sensation again if they were positioned just right.

“Daddy!” you practically cry.

“Thought I told you to be quiet,” he says, taking his fingers, still wet with your slick, and shoving them into your mouth. You hum around them in surprise at first, but in no time, your tongue presses against the skin, tasting yourself on him. He pumps them in and out a little, a smaller version of what he had been doing moments earlier down below.

“There you go, baby. Like I said, no complaints. Just shut that silly mind off and focus on Daddy’s fingers,” he murmurs. He watches with approval as you do exactly that, your eyes fluttering a bit as you clear your thoughts out. “Such a fast learner.”

Your pussy still aches with a need for him, but it’s more tolerable when he’s cooing in your ear while your lips are around his fingers.

“Bet my pretty girl wants to cum so bad right about now,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear.

“Mhm,” you hum as you take his fingers further into your mouth.

“Well, you know why Daddy didn’t let you cum yet? It wasn’t just to be mean to you,” he says.

He hears garbled “I don’t know” come from you. He strokes your hair with his other hand.

“It’s because,” he starts. He removes his fingers from between your lips and scoops you up. Next thing you know, your back is against the hardwood of his desk. You’re looking up at him with hazy eyes, slowly blinking as you take in his words. “I want you to cum all over Daddy’s cock.”

In mere seconds, his belt clanks against the floor, your panties are gone, his fly is undone, and his dick is out, rock hard. It’s flushed and leaking precum as he moves it to your entrance. He pushes the tip in first, teasing you by holding himself there.

You whine at the slight intrusion, wiggling your hips for more. Jutting your lip out a bit, you look up at him with a pout. “Daddy…” you plead weakly.

He shakes his head with an amused smile, but it works. He pushes the rest of his length in, filling you up completely. As he slides in, a long groan leaves him and his head tilts towards the ceiling. He grumbles something along the lines of “so fucking tight.” Your fingers reach downward to grip the edge of his desk. It felt like you were already there again, right on the brink of release.

After a moment of just taking in the feeling, he begins thrusting. He pulls his hips back and pushes them forward again. His cock slides between your walls with no resistance, the perfect fit. You were already pulsing around him, sucking him in deeper. A deep laugh rumbles from his chest.

“You're gonna cum already, baby. I’m that good?” he mocks. He thumbs your clit, sending a burst of pleasure through you that makes you clamp down on him. He grunts and starts thrusting a little harder.

You’re whining quietly, but you can’t hold back the yelp when he pinches your clit. You cum on the spot, gushing around him. You babble incoherently and buck your hips. The high was higher than any euphoria you’d ever felt. You’re panting when it’s done, but he’s still going.

He’s smirking down at you, rocking his hips all the while. “Did I say you could do that?” he asks with a light spank to your clit.

You gasp and arch your back off the desk. “No!” you whine, “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“I’m sure you are.” Another spank. “You’re lucky it’s your first time, and I’m giving you a break today.”

You nod quickly. “Thank you Daddy,” you mumble.

He keeps thrusting, seamlessly going between hard and fast and slow and deep. The motions shake the desk back and forth, sliding inches on the floor each time. You feel like there’s gonna be scrape marks when you’re done.

You also feel like you’re gonna have marks from the way he’s gripping your hips, battering your sensitive pussy. You were so worked up from all the teasing that the overstimulation didn’t even faze you. Your head just droops back, hanging off the edge of the desk.

It’s harder to keep track of how loud you’re being when you’re this out of it. He smiles at your needy whines and pulls your thighs forward so your head is back on the desk. He leans forward, covering his body with yours and grinding his hips deeper than before. His hand comes up and covers your mouth.

“You better hope no one hears, pretty girl. We didn’t lock the door,” he pants.

You moan against the flesh of his hand and your walls tighten their grip on him. He growls in your ear at the sensation before a low chuckle comes from him.

“Oh, you’d like that? I should’ve known,” he teases, “You’d love for someone to come in and see how good you’re being. What a sweet girl you are, being used by your teacher. Love for them to see all the things Daddy’s teaching you.”

A strained cry bubbles beneath his fingers, and you nod, feeling shameless about your fantasy. He nuzzles the side of your head and keeps thrusting as deep as he can. He knows you’re getting close again, and this time, he’s right there with you.

“Come on, sweet baby. Give Daddy another one. I know my precious girl can do it. You were wanting it for so long,” he grunts.

Your whole body seizes as another orgasm rips through you. Your whines and cries are fortunately muffled by his palm, but he feels your drool leaking against his skin. His own eyes squeeze shut as he gasps and moans. His hips jerk, pounding into you a few more times before he cums. He bites his lip to silence his own noises as he spills into, filling you to the brim.

Both of your chests are heaving in the end as you take in gulps of air. He slowly pulls out and pushes some of his hair out of his face. You're both half dressed, his pants down to his knees, shirt unbuttoned. You, nude from the waist down and bra shifted out of place beneath your shirt.

The two of you stand up, you on shaky legs, and pull yourselves back into shape. You pull your panties up and follow them with your jeans while he does the same with his pants. He then falls back into his chair and takes you with him.

He just holds you to his chest for a little bit, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head. You don’t say anything either. You curl up into the affection and stroke his forearm gently.

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs before squeezing you a little tighter.

You’re both so into it, not caring about anything beyond this office at this moment. That is until you catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall.

“Oh… Mr. Kennedy,” you start as you slowly untangle yourself from him and stand up, “I probably should get going. I have to meet my friend to study soon.”

He’s not happy about losing your body on his, but he smiles at your words.

“Alright, honey, but seriously. It’s Leon from now on,” he says.

“Ok,” you laugh with a nod, “Leon.”

You grab your things and give him one more sweet look before turning to walk to the door. He pats you on the ass and kisses your cheek.

“See you Monday, baby,” he says.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #smut

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shotoh · 2 years

Text

all mine

SYNOPSIS: Bakugou decides to put his delusional secretary in their place.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

word count: 9.6k+

genre: fluff, SMUT, maybe a smidgen of angst

tags/warnings: 18+! minors dni! reader is not the secretary, basically this other lady is trying to seduce your man but katsuki isn’t falling for it! marking, exhibitionism, oral (f!receiving), riding, soft!bakugou but also mean!bakugou, humiliation (not really at reader), a couple spanks, office sex, praise, degradation, pet names (baby, princess, angel), crude language

author’s notes: this is very overdue, like incredibly overdue LOL i started this wip last year but could only continue writing during random bouts of inspiration. so i apologize if the smut is a little half-assed and if the characterization is questionable. but enjoy my late kinktober 2022 present to y’all

The sound of Dynamight’s heavy boots hitting the floor resonate throughout the wide hallways of his agency, drowning out the heels clicking behind him. A woman quickens her pace in an attempt to catch up to the impatient blond hero, rushing into his peripheral vision.

“Sir? Oh Bakugou sir~” The dulcet chime calling him is sickly sweet, enough to make him grimace. “I need you to look over these reports before I file them away.” She whips out one of the thick packets of papers clutch to her chest, bringing his steps to a halt which makes the hero point a glare at her.

“How many times do I have to fucking tell you that you’re suppose to call me by my hero name.” Malice coats his words, dripping off his tongue as he swipes the reports from her fingers. The woman, to the hero’s annoyance, indulges in his feisty attitude.

“Aw, but ‘Bakugou’ is more fitting given how closely we work together!” She waves off his displeasure, hoping her excessively cheerful personality can tone him down. “I am your secretary, after all.” She leans into his space, too damn close for his liking by how he could get a whiff of her pungent perfume. The overbearing scent has him side-stepping to create more distance between them.

The blond rolls his eyes before giving the papers in his hand a once-over, not even granting her the satisfaction of eye contact. “You work at a Pro-Hero agency, not some ordinary office job.”

Normally, he isn’t one to admonish any of his employees unless they’re his sidekicks. He’s always out and about on missions, never dawdling around the office long enough to find anything to scold them about. So long as they were competent at their job, he never had to give them any earfuls. But this woman here has been testing that resolve.

A month into her new position, his secretary has been greeting him every morning with far more energy than should be considered possible at such an hour. Her regular tasks shouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. She was mostly tasked with filing villain reports and contacting other Pro-Hero agencies, but her enthusiasm warrants him to think otherwise.

She deliberately shares elevator rides with him, droning on and on about god knows what before getting off at her floor, ending their dull conversations with winks and wide-eyed smiles that make him want to gag. It’s one thing to be genuinely excited about your job, but it’s another thing to be attached to your boss at the hip. She’s at his beck and call when he doesn’t even ask for her.

One can chalk this up to her simply gunning for a promotion, buttering up her boss to garner his favor. However, Bakugou isn’t an idiot. He can read the air, deciphering the meaning behind her words and advances. Her deceptive guise of a hardworking secretary beneath those batting eyelashes is easily uncovered by him.

If she was really trying so hard for a promotion she’d approach him with more important topics in mind. Statistics, analysis, updates on villain activity and hero work. Y’know, discussions that would actually benefit his agency rather than waste his time.

Instead, Bakugou stands there listening to… this.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” her voice drifts off as she taps a finger against her bottom lip pensively, “we should consider holding a party to get to know all our co-workers better!” she proposes. The blond narrows his brows incredulously at her suggestion.

Oblivious to his lack of interest, she moves closer to him, caressing a hand along his hard bicep. She tip-toes her fingers up his arm before flattening her digits next to his ear to whisper, “Company members only, of course. But I’m sure we’d still have a fun time even if it was just the two of us, right?”

Recognizing the suggestive lilt in her tone, he shoves her off of him without even touching her, abruptly tossing his shoulder back. The secretary freezes and comes across the peeved expression on the explosion hero’s rough features.

“We’re here to beat villains and protect civilians, not throw dumb parties.”

“But–”

“Shut it,” he retorts harshly, not letting the bewildered look on the secretary’s face demur him. He shoves the reports back in her arms. “Just do your damn job.” With his brows taut behind his mask, the blond glares hard at her, watching her fumble with the papers before he resumes the rhythm of his combat boots stepping down the hallway. The hero gives her one last glance over his shoulder.

“And remember, it’s Dynamight to you.”

Man, what an annoying woman.

Is the thought that plagues Bakugou’s mind as he stands beneath the running water in his shower, washing away the sweat and grime accumulated from another busy day of heroics. Yet he still can’t get the irritating thoughts in his head to do the same.

His fingers weave the shampoo through his spikey locks, the pads of his digits massaging his scalp. Glancing at his reflection in the foggy, glass screen door, he meets his scowling mug.

“Tryna get in my pants and shit… Worry about keeping your damn job,” he grumbles to himself exasperatedly. What he finds especially annoying is knowing his secretary will start the day again tomorrow as if nothing happened. Even with Bakugou’s firm stance at wanting to keep things strictly professional, she’s going to continue getting up in his space, trying to caress her nails up his arm, and stink up the place with what he swore was five different kinds of perfume sprayed on her clothes.

But Bakugou’s not some oblivious fool. He can recognize from a mile away what her goal is and he absolutely wants no part in it.

Besides...

“Katsuki! Dinner will be ready when you’re done showering!”

His head swivels toward the door of the bathroom. “Yeah I heard ya!”

He’s already got someone deserving of his time and affection.

You.

“’Kay!” you reply, voice gradually growing louder. Bakugou hears your feet plodding toward the bathroom door just as the door creaks open slightly. “I’ll leave you a new towel to use after you’re done showering, too.” Even through the steam, he can recognize your silhouette peeking inside to drop the towel off. Unbeknownst to you, behind the cloudy glass door of the shower there’s a smile that finds his lips.

After washing the lather off his hair and body, he shuts the water. The last streams falling from the showerhead glide down his skin, joining the suds on the floor before they all disappear down the drain. As the thick steam surrounding him dissipates, he covers his toned body in the towel you left for him.

While patting down the excess droplets cascading his blond locks, Bakugou puts on some sweatpants, but forgoes his t-shirt for now, leaving it hanging over his shoulder. He continues rubbing the towel around his torso as he exits the bathroom.

The savory aroma of thick cheeses and tomato sauces hits Bakugou’s nose the moment he enters the kitchen. He stops in his tracks to take in the pleasant smells, along with the sight in front of his eyes that effortlessly forms a grin on his face.

Your soft hums accompany the harmonious atmosphere of the kitchen. Bakugou’s ruby eyes rove over you shimmying your way around an array of pans and plates like you own the place (which you essentially do), watching you finish piecing your dinner together with a generous sprinkle of garnish and spices.

Eyes never leaving you, an expression of admiration and fondness paints his usually hardened face. With arms crossed over his chest, he could just stand there, admire you, and be more than wholly content. You could do the most mundane things and still have him wrapped around your finger—not that he’d ever mention that to you out loud of course. Occasionally, Bakugou wonders how he ever got so lucky with you in the first place.

You’re so blissfully unaware of your hotheaded boyfriend lurking nearby. It’s all the more apparent by how you abruptly pause as soon as you discover him idling in the kitchen doorway in all of his half-naked glory.

The blond doesn’t let the fact that you’re practically ogling his hard muscle slip past him, and definitely doesn’t miss your moment of hesitation before you avert your gaze, your cheeks growing hot. It brings a smirk to his face and his ego through the roof.

Bakugou tosses his towel and t-shirt somewhere off the side before coming to you. “What? Getting flustered or something, babe?” he taunts. His deep tone hovers next to your ear as his chest touches your back. His hands are on either side of you, trapping you against the counter.

“That fuckin’ hot that I got you this speechless?” His breath is so close to you, he just knows you have goosebumps trailing down your spine. He can tell by the heat swirling in your cheeks just how much he has an effect on you and he absolutely loves how easily he can get you flustered.

Though he can’t say he’s all but immune to your charms, either. He trails a calloused hand up your bare thigh and hips, giving your ass a firm squeeze through your booty shorts which causes a yelp to flee your lips.

Fuckin’ hell.

The way you were dancing around in these things, tip-toeing to reach high cabinets that caused the shorts to ride up slightly and give him a glimpse of the plushness peeking past the fabric already had Bakugou half-hard simply standing behind you. But being able to touch what was essentially his started to make the material of his sweatpants absolutely suffocating.

In a single motion, he spins you around. Your back is pinned against the counter as you’re forced to face him. The cocky grin plastered on his lips greets you.

Finally grasping your composure, you raise an eyebrow at him. “For someone who wanted to take a shower as soon as their stinky-self got home, you sure are eager to get dirty again,” you retort, tracing your hands up his arms to place them on his broad shoulders. “Work didn’t get you sweaty enough?”

The blond chuckles lowly at your cheekiness. His face inches closer, mere centimeters away from your lips. “I could go for an extra workout,” he says huskily, voice dissipating with the shortening distance between you.

His eyes are lidded as he targets your lips, hands leaving the edge of the counter in favor of wrapping his arms around your waist. To his surprise, when he darts forward he meets nothing but air.

Hearing your giggles beside him breaks the tension between you. He opens his eyes and discovers that you’ve tilted your head out of the way. Before he can open his mouth to spit a retort, you rest your head against his shoulder, arms winding at his neck.

“Food’s gonna get cold, big boy,” you hum.

The noise that leaves his gritted teeth is practically a growl. “Dun care about the food–” His hands at your sides play with the waistband of your shorts. “Would rather eat you out on this counter.”

He watches you gulp down the lump in your throat, finding the idea tempting as a dull throb aches between your legs. But to his dismay, you don’t want to let him indulge in you just yet.

You lean forward to kiss his cheek to prepare him for your next words, “First and foremost, dinner. And then I'll let you do whatever you want with me. How’s that?” You tiptoe to peck his nose one more time for good measure before wriggling free from his clutches. You shuffle away to the steaming hot food you left on the other end of the counter.

Pink swathes his cheeks as Bakugou stands there dumbfounded. He rubs the back of his head, his brows furrowing in frustration.

“You’re killing me here, dammit.”

You let out another dulcet giggle. The urge to sneak up on you again to try to get you all hot and bothered lingers until it’s interrupted by a piece of fabric thrown in his face. “Also, shirt on we please.” You turn back at him with two plates of stuffed ravioli perched on each hand. “No shirt, no service.”

He yanks the white t-shirt off his face, grimacing as he begrudgingly pulls it over his head. “Yeah, yeah. You love it though.” Nonetheless, he follows behind you while the savory aroma of your food creates a path toward the dining table. The scent alone makes his stomach growl, the effects of a long day at work making themselves apparent.

Despite the antics he has to put up with, he can’t help but soften around you. It’s as if you possess an innate ability to effortlessly get him to shed his notoriously rough exterior.

He takes a seat on his side of the table, his stomach now growling loud enough for you to hear. You tease a wry grin before placing the ravioli dishes on the table, letting the delicious aromas waft around him, his mouth watering.

“I know it’s been a long day for you so you better eat up, hero.”

The blond’s eyes flicker for a second, chest enveloped with pride as he meets the look on your face that awaits for him in anticipation to dig in. “Yeah… Thanks for the meal,” he murmurs, mild gratitude woven in his words as he picks up the fork and finally chows down.

Again, what did he ever do to deserve you? He knows how hard you work each and every day. The fact that you’re still willing to love and take care of him is enough for him to want to cherish you for an eternity. Coming home to the person he loves and sharing meals with them is a blessing to him as it is and he absolutely wouldn’t trade this for anything else.

Which just makes the matter of his secretary all the more annoying to him.

The damn woman has walked in his office plenty of times to see the framed picture of you two on his desk, even occasionally interrupting his phone calls with you that would end with him mouthing low “love yous” before he’d have to turn around to acknowledge the petty expression resting on her face. He’d watch as her demeanor quickly shifted into a full 180—from a bitter frown to a forced grin to keep up her facade. She definitely knows he’s in a happy, committed relationship. The real question is whether or not she cares enough to acknowledge the fact.

He could just fire her for unprofessionalism. That seems like an obvious solution, but knowing her, she’d probably feed the media some false rumors about alleged abuse towards his employees. Of course, that wouldn’t at all be true. Far from it, but the news loved to twist the truth so long as it got them clicks. Given Bakugou’s naturally rugged demeanor, it wouldn’t be hard for the public to buy their shit and for his ranking on the hero chart to plummet. Which Bakugou could not afford right now considering how close he was to the top.

“’Tsuki, stop playing with your food.” He hears you chide, tugging him from his contemplation.

Bakugou huffs, jamming his fork onto the plate. “I’m not a damn kid.”

“Right, tell that to the ravioli you’re mangling with your fork.” You raise your brow and point at his stabbed and defeated pasta, the filling oozing out from the punctured holes. He keeps his gaze suspiciously fixed on the ravioli.

Does it taste bad? You wonder warily. “If you don’t like it then you don’t have to eat it, y’know.”

“What? No– The food’s fine.” He stuffs three pastas in his mouth one after the other. “Fucking delicious,” he mutters through ungracious chewing, cheeks puffed profusely, bringing a grin to your face.

“What’s wrong then? Bad day at work?”

He swallows his food. “Could say that,” he answers, resting his head against his propped arm. “Just some employee causing trouble.”

“Hopefully it’s not one of your sidekicks,” you pick at the raviolis while stuck in your musing, “I remember your first batch of recruits when you just started your own agency. You nearly scared half of them away by the end of the week.”

“How else was I supposed to whip those newbies into shape?” He lounges in his seat. “If they can’t take some yelling from a Pro, then they’re definitely not ready for the real hero world. Besides, they were the ones that came to my agency knowing that I’m the best,” he boasts with confidence, shoving more pasta in his mouth, and munching at his leisure.

“Also, it’s not a sidekick. Just some lady who can’t do her fuckin’ job.”

“Aw, cut her some slack, I’m sure she’s trying her best.”

Bakugou almost scoffs. If you knew the real reason for her lack of work ethic, you’d be on the same page as him.

Either way, he really needs to get this secretary off his back before shit blows out of proportion. If pictures, phone calls—hell—even lunch dates can’t get her to wake up, then what?

To his surprise, the idea actually comes to him quicker than he anticipated, red eyes perking up at a scheme forming in his head.

Of course. Heh, why didn’t I think of that sooner?

This is how he’s going to do it, he thinks. His lips barely resist the urge to quiver into a smirk that will no doubt have you questioning whatever was riling him up. Swallowing his final piece of pasta, Bakugou pushes his plate away but aims his fork in your direction.

“You free tomorrow?”

“I just have to drop off some papers at work in the morning. Why?”

“Good. Come by the agency for lunch.”

Your brows furrow at how sudden the request is, however, you go along with it. “Okay, should I make lunch for us?”

“Nah, don’t. I’ll order something,” he assures, but in his head he’s sure lunch would be the last thing on your mind tomorrow afternoon with what he has planned for you, him, and his secretary.

Bakugou scoots his seat back, leaning over on your side of the table. “Now, I remember a certain brat made a promise to me after dinner was done.”

“Hold it, I still have a piece–”

“Nuh-uh, c’mere–” He lightly pushes your hand away, and with effortless strength, pulls you out of your chair and over his shoulder. “Already waited too damn long.”

“Whoa..!” Your last piece of pasta falls back on the plate, forgotten. You watch as the distance between you and the dining table diminishes, the impatient blond leading you two into the hallway. At your fidgeting, he swats your thigh, warning you to stay fucking still unless you want to accidentally fall on your face.

With a squeal escaping your lips, you comply. As a reward, he presses his lips against the side of your ass as you’re still hanging over him, nipping at your curves. Your yelps are replaced by laughter. The ticklish sensation nearly makes you squirm again if not for Bakugou dropping you unceremoniously onto your bed.

“You better make it up to me for having to make me wait, Princess.” His emphasis on what is supposed to be your endearing little pet name comes out as a snarl as you’re cornered against the sheets. Expecting this kind of intense reaction from him after your meal, you grin slyly.

“I mean the ravioli was good, wasn’t it?”

Well that he can’t deny. Still, the blond smirks, showing his pearly canines. “Yeah, but,” he moves away from you, kneeling while grabbing at the hem of his shirt to pull it off,

“I’m still fuckin’ hungry.”

There is no doubt that the next day, you woke up incredibly sore. Sore yet also just as happy.

The tension in your muscles had dissipated as a result of being repeatedly fucked into your own mattress last night, allowing you to sleep soundly. So soundly that you don’t even notice your boyfriend leaving for work that morning. But it can’t be helped given how ungodly early his hero work starts every day.

Some hours after Bakugou has already left, your alarm goes off to remind you that it’s about time to begin your day. Even after a spent night, you can’t bear the thought of lying in bed anymore, especially with how cold the sheets had become, devoid of the blond’s natural warmth. Plus you had something to look forward to this afternoon—your lunch date.

Once you get washed and dressed, you grab your business files from your desk and dash out the door to drop off your papers at work.

Before you know it, it’s noon and you’re standing in front of the receptionist’s desk at Dynamight’s agency.

While you wait for the receptionist to finish their business call, you think back on the employee Bakugou mentioned yesterday. You note in the foreground how busy the entire place looks, which doesn't surprise you. The agency runs like a well-oiled machine. With all the hustle and bustle going on, it seems like everyone is doing their job with peak efficiency. Honestly, you can’t imagine anyone wanting to test the wrath of the explosive Number Two Hero, but you assume such people existed.

“Thank you for waiting! Here to see Mister Dynamight?” The receptionist greets you after hanging up their call, immediately recognizing you from your prior visits.

“Yeah, just coming by for lunch.”

“He’s in his office right now so I’ll let him know you’re here then.”

You mouth a thank you, followed by a farewell wave as you make your way to the elevator.

“’Suki’s office should be on… this floor…” you murmur, pressing the corresponding button on the panel. While you wait for the doors to close, you spot a figure approaching from a distance. You can see the person’s wrinkled professional attire, disheveled hair, and slightly smeared makeup as she approaches the elevator clumsily.

“H… Hold the door!” she pants.

Hearing her frantic request, your mind catches up with you. You jam your index finger on another button on the panel, keeping the doors open just long enough for the woman to slip inside and catch her breath.

You watch her ungraciously drop to the floor, lungs gasping for air. “That was a close one.” You bend down to extend a helping hand.

She sputters as she reaches out to you, “Yeah, thanks, I– Wait, you’re...” When she looks up, her eyes squint to get a better look at your face, brows knitting together as she recognizes your features. Dismissing your help, she abruptly retracts her hand before getting up on her own. You cock your head suspiciously when you notice her change in demeanor.

“Oh, I’m just stopping by to have lunch with my boyfriend. He’s your, uh,” you piece your words as eloquently as you can, “boss.”

It’s always difficult for you to tell any of Bakugou’s staff that you’re his girlfriend. You’d done it before in front of his group of sidekicks while waiting outside his office and as a result they all flipped, bombarding you with questions about your relationship before falling dead silent when his door suddenly swung open.

You’re expecting the same, if not, a similar reaction here, but you’re surprised to see a deadpan look in the woman’s eyes. She averts her gaze. You glance over at her, taking note of her fists shaking at her sides and how she bites the inside of her cheek which forms a pout on her lips.

You’re beginning to wonder if you shouldn’t have disclosed that information. “Are you okay?” you inquire, your voice filled with genuine concern. She eventually turns to look at you straight on, her expression teetering between a smile and a scowl. In any case, she tries to steer you away from the elephant in the room.

“Yep! Just peachy!” she assures through a strained grin that makes you all the more suspicious of her. Even if you want to question it, she has no intention of continuing the conversation. Her lips press together in an effort to maintain her smile, or else risk blurting something that should’ve stayed in her mouth. You keep to yourself in the elevator so as not to bother her, but the prolonged silence, combined with the elevator’s incessant dinging throughout each ascending floor, creates a suffocating atmosphere.

With every floor you pass you soon realize that despite keeping your distance, she’s still looking in your general direction. You notice her sneaking glances at you and your neck grows hot as you follow where her eyes wander. You press your palm against your jugular, the spot you recall Bakugou laying his teeth on last night.

I thought I covered that…

You want to chastise yourself for not spending enough time this morning to conceal the blemishes on your neck. Your coworker had even commented on them before you left for Dynamight’s agency, to your embarrassment.

You settle for letting out an uneasy chuckle while adjusting the collar of your shirt. Though the majority of Bakugou’s staff are already aware of your relationship, you’d rather hide any detail of your sex life if possible. You’d prefer not being the hot talk amongst the whole faculty.

You expect to be the brunt of the woman’s teasing next, anticipating her wiggling her brows or whistling, but she keeps her mouth shut and her expression even appears offended.

Fortunately, the elevator saves both of you from any more uncomfortable silences. Right on cue, the doors slide open for the woman to exit on her floor. She doesn’t spare you a glance on her way out, but you overhear her mutter under her breath, “Enjoy your lunch or whatever.”

She stomps in the opposite direction until her figure disappears behind closing doors. Your face scrunches. “What’s her deal?”

You’ve gotten used to the bitter reactions some people would give over the fact you and Bakugou are in a relationship. You kind of have to, considering who Bakugou is and the hoards of fans he’s accumulated over the years as a Pro-Hero. But any of the backlash you receive is mostly posted online by petty netizens. No one has the guts to confront you in person. Mostly because if they do, Bakugou has no qualms about retaliating with equal venom and more. This lady, on the other hand, works for Bakugou. When it comes to greeting her boss’s girlfriend, she should be professional, right?

You brush those thoughts away, recalling that no one should ever have to suck up to you simply because you're a Pro’s significant other. “She’s probably on the PR team.” You laugh off, remembering how much trouble it is to manage Bakugou’s public image and how she must be tired from working overtime.

The elevator dings one last time to indicate that you’ve arrived at your destination. When the doors part, the entrance to Dynamight’s office is directly across from you, passing a short corridor. Normally, sidekicks and employees had to press the button on the side of the door, or page him ahead of time before entering. However, you have the luxury of just swinging those doors open whenever you like.

“Heya, Katsu–”

“For the last fuckin’ time, there’s no way I’m going on that mission as his fucking standby.” The voice booming at the other end of the room behind a wide, wooden desk drowns out your voice. “Tell Grand that if he can’t find another B-rate hero agency like his to do his damn dirty work, then he can just fuck himself,” he spits into the receiver. He slams the phone down and hangs up the call without a second thought.

You announce your presence once more with a low whistle. Another one for the PR team. “Vulgar as usual,” you joke.

He sighs loudly, “The only way to get the message across their thick skulls is to beat it into their heads at this point,” he says, leaning against the large glass windows behind him. “That Shindou needs to get off my back. I thought I told everyone I wasn’t taking anymore calls from that asswipe.”

“I’m sure Grand will finally get the idea after he receives your message from his manager.” Slipping in next to him, you wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers delicately crawl up to his chin, tilting his head to face your smile. Bakugou reciprocates the gesture, his gloved hands gripping your waist and pulling you in as your lips briefly meet. When you part, you rest your forehead against his.

“How was patrol this morning, hero?” you whisper, playing with the tufts of hair above his neck.

“Same old shit,” he tells you quietly as you hum at his response, an amused grin tugging at the seam of your lips. Just as you’re about to separate, his hold at your sides tightens, locking your body against his.

“Bet you missed me, didn’t you, princess?” He leans in to nibble your jawline, causing laughter to tumble from your lips. “Bed got cold without me?”

Your answer is interrupted by a hand brushing up against the waistband of your pants, ruffling your tucked-in blouse. The man growls in the crook of your neck. “Didn’t have my cock to keep you nice and warm?”

Your nose scrunches at his unfiltered tongue. “Katsuki, I came here for lunch, remember?” You push at his chest, attempting to get him off you, but his teeth lock onto your clavicle.

“Food’s on the way,” he assures. Fingers play with the loops of your pants, dragging your shirt out slowly. “Might as well kill time–” His lips suddenly collide with yours, stealing your breath and drowning out any protests. He scuffs his teeth against your bottom lip, looking for a way in. You whimper in response at his persistence, stumbling backwards against the edge of his desk as he finally pries through your lips.

After an intense moment of kissing, his attention shifts to your jugular, nipping at the tender skin again. Every time his canines make contact with the broken skin, you wince. “Still got my marks all over ya,” he boasts, but the more skin he tries to unveil, the more he has to pull at your shirt’s collar which quickly annoys him. “Though I don’t understand what the hell you’re covering them up for.”

“D-Don’t want people to see…” you fumble with your excuses yet tilt your head to grant him better access. He scoffs at how your actions betray your words.

“Why does it matter when I want them to see? Let those fuckers look and know we’re together.” He licks one of the patches of broken skin. His harsh words make you shiver in his hold, but beneath his rough exterior, you sense a tender possessiveness in the amount of attention he pays to your body.

Your fingers brush through his hair, gently pulling him off of you so you can look him in the eyes, “You’re so damn insufferable, you know that?”

“Heh, you like it though,” Bakugou counters. You click your tongue, feigning ignorance. With his hand wrapped at the nape of your neck, he thumbs at your blemishes. His ruby eyes take their time to admire every inch of his claim on you. “You were clenching whenever I marked you. Screaming nice and loud too.”

“I bet the neighbors hate us now…” You sigh quietly.

“Took them that long?” He grins, almost proud of being a menace to those extras next door despite being a heroic figure. “Besides, not my fault you let me do whatever I wanted to you.” You pout, but accept it’s a fact you very well can’t deny.

As his deft hands unfasten each button of your blouse, he switches your positions. He yanks your shirt, dragging the fabric down your shoulders to reveal your skin and the bra hugging your chest. Licking his lips, he removes his thick gloves before hoisting you up to sit on the desk with him, making you straddle his thighs. Another pause of appreciation for the blossoms adorning your chest makes him blurt out, “Maybe I should let you mark me up just as much.”

You look at him precariously. He doesn’t take back the grin on his face. Seeing your wide-eyed expression, he cups your jaw, pulling you toward him. “What’s the look for? I know you’ve thought about it, princess.” Bakugou reads you like a book. He revels in your flustered face, telling him how right he is.

The image of his scarred, toned skin covered in hickeys has crossed your mind more times than you can count, but you’ve always been too engrossed in the intoxicating sensation of his teeth grazing every stretch of your skin to ever have an opportunity to bring the thought to light. Bakugou never gives you an inch when it comes to taking the reins in the bedroom. But now he’s practically granting you the opportunity on a silver platter.

You point a dubious look at him. “Are you serious, or did you bump your head somewhere earlier on patrol?” Anticipating your skeptical response, a chuckle rumbles low in his throat. He scoots back to remove his tank top, letting your hands lay over his chiseled physique. Your fingers immediately trace the scars and cuts lining his muscles, each one standing as a testament to every one of his battles. The idea of your own marks joining his adonis of a canvas has your eyes fluttering.

“’s no joke, babe,” he clarifies, a wicked grin plastered on his face. He then remembers why he made this whole arrangement in the first place. “Aren’t you tired of those fuckin’ extras always ogling me—looking at me up and down like they even have a damn chance to touch all of this?” He grabs your wrist and guides your hands above his chest, your fingertips brushing his collarbones.

You bite your lower lip. “Well…”

Hearing your voice linger, he snarls, “Are you seriously hesitating?”

It’s not like you hadn’t ever clenched your fists in front of the TV whenever your boyfriend was being interviewed by some mischievous news reporter or journalist. They never make it subtle when casting one too many glances at the Pro’s sweaty, skintight attire, staring into his red eyes for so long that they started looking dumb. Though as much as dark green jealousy occasionally takes root in your subconsciousness, you never act on your displeasure.

In the back of your mind, you always saw it as a sign of clinginess. But Bakugou sees it differently. To him, he’d want nothing more than his girl staking their claim on him. For you to get needy, jealous, possessive. Let the entire world know that you both belong to each other and no one else.

You fix your gaze at his cynical expression that eggs you on. Before you know it, you lunge forward. Your mouth latches onto his neck, arms curling around his shoulders. Bakugou draws you skin-to-skin, his low chuckle reverberating in the depths of his chest.

“Ooh, that’s it,” he encourages, rubbing your back. His other hand palms your ass, rocking you both back and forth, grinding his bulge against the crotch of your jeans. Your teeth cling to him, sinking into his skin. Your lips vibrate against his collarbones while you whimper at the delicious friction on your clit.

“Harder. I wanna see nice ol’ purple marks here,” he orders, relentlessly rolling his hips. You want to slap him on the wrist, your concentration waning as heat quickly pools in your abdomen. As if the grinding isn’t enough, Bakugou effortlessly undos the button of your jeans. He pulls down the zipper before reaching inside and touching you through your underwear.

“Fuck, already this wet from a little grinding? Nasty girl,” he hisses, running his index and middle finger across the ruined crotch of your panties. “Or maybe marking me is getting you all riled up?”

“Shut up–” you mutter half-heartedly. With a pop, your lips leave him. You lean back to evaluate your work. They’re not as noticeable as the marks Bakugou usually gives you, but they’re visible, and they’re purple as requested.

A small trail of violet hickeys adorns the crook of the blond’s neck and collarbones. Your finger traces the path, eyes capturing the sheen of your saliva over the marks. His skin gleams in the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

Reaching inside the pocket of his baggy pants, Bakugou pulls out his phone to turn on the front-facing camera. He gets a clear view of your work on the screen, and his smirk appears on the display. “My girl did that, huh?” He cranes his neck to examine the blemishes from different angles. Soon after, you hear his camera’s shutter release, capturing the image and adding it to his gallery. He should really consider making an album out of these.

Tossing his phone to the side, those piercing red eyes return to you, and your assertiveness fades. He grabs your wrists and leans in to kiss your temple.

“You did well, princess.”

His hushed voice makes your cunt clench and your ears warm. “I'll be sure to show these off later,” he promises, his tone dripping with smugness.

God, you realize how little his hero costume does to hide any of those hickeys. Given that he has to go on patrol again soon, you can expect his neck to be a hot topic in the media. Regardless, you can’t deny the satisfaction that wells up in your chest at the thought.

Katsuki was right. You really are possessive over him. And of course, it goes both ways.

While you’re distracted by your epiphany, he uses this opportunity to unhook your bra, happily discarding the garment. You exhale as he roughly cups the underside of your breast. His breath tickles your perky nipple, strong arm hooking you into him.

The pattern of his breaths are erratic, excitement coursing through his veins. His carmine eyes are lidded as he flattens a tongue against the hardened nub. As Bakugou fully wraps his lips around the stiffening bud, sucking and biting to his heart’s content, mewls part your mouth.

“Your tits still taste fucking amazing,” he mutters, mouth caught between sucking and spewing obscenities. “These tits gonna give me some milk too, princess?”

“Don’t push your luck, mister,” you quip before biting your bottom lip. You concentrate on moving your hips back and forth against his thigh, trying to find the right angle that provides you with the delicious jolt of pleasure you craved between your thighs. With a smack, his lips leave your nipple.

“Guess I didn’t give you enough attention down here since you keep rutting against me like a needy slut.” He swats your ass before gripping the plushness harshly. The mild sting has your pussy clenching. “My baby doesn’t feel satisfied unless she’s getting stretched open by my cock, huh?”

Just a little bit of dirty talk from him is enough to make you whimper pathetically, “Please, ‘suki…”

“Please, what? Gotta tell me more than that, princess.” He tugs the waistband of your pants, teasing you. Never breaking eye contact, Bakugou’s hand sneaks under the edge of his desk. “Use your words, I want to know what I’m doing to you. Don’t skimp on the details.”

A light click goes off, but if you hear it you don’t make it apparent, too focused on the hot blond in front of you that was making your head spin.

“Fuck… ‘Suki, I feel so hot… Need you right now…” You grab his hand showing him your ruined panties by letting the pads of his fingers trail your wet pussy. “See? Look what you did, I’m soaked.”

Bakugou mutters curses under his breath, applying more pressure to your panties to thoroughly inspect the slick saturating the fabric. He couldn’t have asked for a better reaction, finding your pleading to be incredibly sinful and all-too-tempting. He considers it a waste that he isn’t recording anything. Well, maybe it isn’t an entire waste.

“Damn, how are you this messy? This pussy’s fucking sobbing for me.” You nod, sloppily gyrating on top of his hand. For once, Bakugou is considerate to your needs and slides your panties to the side to slip his digits across your bare folds. You both moan in unison, you at the extra relief and him at the slippery honey dripping down his knuckles.

In his eyes he was being generous, granting you his thick fingers prodding your silky walls rather than reduce you to pitifully grinding against him. But, being greedy, you thought he wasn’t being generous enough.

Bakugou’s fingers leave your cunt to sample you, wet digits laying flat on his tongue. “Fuck, I need to lick you clean right now.”

“N-No, ‘suki, jus’ want your cock in me already,” you whine with a pout. However, Bakugou is insistent on stealing more than just a little taste from your sweet cunt.

“Not gonna even let me indulge a little? Must have spoiled you with too much dick last night.” He scoffs, but doesn’t move to discard his uniform to free his hard cock. Instead, he motions you to step down and stand in front of him while he remains perched atop his desk.

He eyes you up and down. “What are you waiting for, princess? I want it all off already.”

Your fingers start moving toward your disheveled blouse. As fabrics pile the floor, you catch the blond licking his lips, lewdly eyeing your panties that slip down your legs to reveal your juices coating your inner thighs.

“Turn around and kneel on top of my chair.”

At his blunt tone, you obey. Dynamight’s luxurious office chair cushions your knees as you carefully lift your body onto it.

“Bend over.”

Without question, you use the arms of the chair as leverage to safely lean forward, spreading your pussy in front of him. As half of your face presses into the cushion of the head rest, you steal a glimpse of his reaction from your peripheral vision.

With a guttural hiss between his teeth, he gets off the desk, pulling the chair closer for an even better look at your glistening center. He palms your ass, rolling the globes in his hands before spreading them, exposing your slick folds.

“You seriously trying to deny me this angel cunt?” His words are emphasized with a quick smack before his tongue dives between your folds. You whine at the contact, his lips fluttering around your clit as it works its way up your slobbering hole.

Knees shaking, you subconsciously muffle your sounds as you press your face into the headrest of the office chair. Not satisfied with your muted cries, Bakugou reaches one hand toward your head. He cups your jaw, turning you more to the side so you aren’t hiding in the cushion. When his tongue swivels around your sensitive bud, your moans resonate across his office with euphoria.

“‘suki! I’m gonna–!”

“Gonna cum? Do it then you slut.”

At your warning, he works his mouth vigorously against your pussy, even adding two fingers into your walls. Your toes curl behind you as your grip on the arms of the chair tighten.

“Fuck, you’re dripping all over my damn office chair.”

Maybe you would’ve issued a half-hearted apology, if not for his tongue and its unrelenting intensity across your sensitive bundle of nerves. You only offer a string of moans that Bakugou happily accepts, smiling into your pussy as he feels you tense up against him.

“Ka..tsuki!!” You practically scream, electricity coursing through your skin as your orgasm shakes your entire body.

“That’s it, princess. Want your taste all over my tongue… So fucking good,” he drones against your folds, not letting a drop go to waste as you slowly come down from your post-orgasmic bliss.

“Ah! ‘Suki, I’m already too sensitive…” You gasp, still feeling him drunkenly licking up and down your slit despite you just coming. Reaching behind you, you weave your fingers through his ash blond hair, nudging at his scalp to try to push him away, but Bakugou’s strength clearly outweighs yours. He grips your wrist, lifting his face off your sloppy pussy of his own volition.

“That sensitive just from my tongue? Oh, sweetheart, I plan on ruining you in my office chair alone.” Keeping his word, he replaces your pliant body with his own, planting himself right on the cushioned seat with his legs spread thoughtlessly. He dashes for the hem of his pants, unfastening the zipper, and pulling down enough articles of clothing for his cock to spring out, stiff and glistening with his arousal.

Lust blown eyes admire the thickness of Bakugou’s shaft, rightdown to the veins on the ridges of his cock. A smirk and chuckle follow in the wake of your heady gawking, swearing that you look like you were about to pounce and give him the best head of his life. Sadly, as he glances at the digital clock perched behind you, he realizes there’s no time.

“Sorry, babe, food’s gonna be here any minute and I need you on my cock right fucking now.” He rolls the office chair closer to get a firm grasp of your hips, motioning you on top of him with rousing urgency. Thighs on either side of his own, you reach over your body to level his cock over your dripping folds.

The blond’s lips curl into a sneer beneath you, hands fondling your breast and ass—the latter spreading your cheek to help you accommodate his size. “Besides, this what you wanted, right? To be–” As you begin sinking down his length, your mouth opens in a soundless mewl. “–split open on me, even after I fucked you into the mattress last night?”

Your teeth tug at your bottom lip while you do your best to bottom out. Katsuki isn’t amused by your muted reaction, pinching your nipple as punishment and spurring his desired noises from you. “What did I say? Answer me, slut, you wanted to get fucked dumb again, didn’tcha?” His words are harsher this time, demanding your attention.

“Yes, yes! Wan’ you to make me your little cockwhore, ‘Suki…” you confess, moaning when you feel his dick fully impale you. At the same time, Bakugou hisses at how your walls mercilessly hug his shaft.

“Yeah princess, I’m going to give you exactly what you need– Fuck! How are you so damn tight?!” It hasn’t even been ten hours since he had sex with you, stretching you into his shape last night until the sun shined, and yet you still had the innate ability to squeeze every ounce of pleasure out of him and then some. At this rate, he’s not going to last. “Need you to move, baby. Ride me already.”

Hearing the urgency in his tone, your hips begin moving on their own, dragging yourself on and off his cock. Hands on his shoulders, you leverage yourself to maintain a steady rhythm that had you both delirious and panting in pleasure. The blond’s thick fingers dig into your soft flesh, growls leaving his lips as fire flares in his veins, threatening to ignite his last ounce of willpower to allow you to keep this sustained tempo.

“F-Feeling good, ‘suki?” you question, looking down at him with a sinful expression painted on your gorgeous face—pretty eyes half-lidded and needy just for him.

“Yeah… God you make me act up all the damn time I–” His cock twitches between your tight folds, eyeing you from below and watching you clasp his hand that’s pawing your breast to gesture to him to play with you some more. The sensual yet genuine smile you give him ultimately breaks his resolve.

Oh, fuck it.

As if chains have snapped around him, Bakugou suddenly shoots up, carrying your body against him. He lays you across his desk quickly but carefully, with little regard for whatever else tumbles and falls off of it except for you.

You squeal in surprise, your arms and legs attempting to find purchase around him before you’re reduced to jelly by the new quickening pace of his cock pounding your insides.

“Oh my god… Katsuki!” The obscene slapping of skin on skin accompanies your desperate cries throughout his office. Arms that were wound around his neck lose their hold on him, pathetically dropping to your sides to clasp Katsuki’s wrists, where he’s pulling your thighs apart to spread you open for his unrelenting thrusts.

“Sorry, princess… you looked so damn hot I couldn’t hold back anymore. Needed to feel you deeper and make you cream already.” His tepid apologies don’t reach your ears as you’re overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of his movements, followed by a searing knot welling up in your abdomen.

By the looks of it, you have no objections to the turn of events, gazing dreamily at him as his hardened body hovers over you. From your point of view, you get glimpses of the sweat dotting his forehead, his nose scrunched in concentration, and narrowed ruby eyes glimmering with feral desire.

With stars in your eyes and features all flushed with warmth and lust, you sing a euphony of I love you’s between whimpers. Your voice catches in your throat when his cock repeatedly hits that sweet spot inside your gummy walls.

Bakugou can’t get enough of you, heart swelling with his affections that he can’t help but flick his wrist to intertwine his hand in yours. Despite his progressively carnal thrusts, he possesses contrasting tender devotions in his voice.

“I love you, princess. It’s been you and no one else. No other bitch can compare,” he repeats over and over like a mantra, a declaration of his loyalty to you and only you. You swear there’s an extra weight behind his words, but you’re too engrossed in the feeling of utter euphoria this man gives you in mind, body, and soul to give it a second thought. It’s as if you’re walking on Cloud 9 as your pussy clenches around him, back arching in the moment that’s pushing Bakugou to the breaking point

“So damn perfect, you were fucking made for me, baby. Give it to me, cum on my cock,” he pleads, “I know you’re almost there, princess.”

“Yea, ‘suki… Wanna cum for you, you make me feel so good,” you murmur brokenly, voice splintering into an incoherent babble that he finds so endearing, caressing your cheek while deepening his brutal pace. That knot in your tummy tightens and when the cord eventually snaps, you cry out, clutching onto his hand.

Katsuki insists he’s never seen a prettier sight than you finally losing yourself all because of him. It urges him to reach his own high and claim you in the only way he knows how—coming in your pretty cunt and dedicating himself wholly to you.

“Pretty angel, you’re making me crazy over here. Fuck! ‘Bout to blow my whole load inside you. That what you want?”

“Mhm! Please..!” You manage a few urgent pleas before Bakugou finally reaches his limit, groans resonating in the wake of his cock stuttering between your silky folds. His growls reverberate from the depths of his chest, thick with rapture as his body is bathed in the sweet sensation that is your entire being swallowing him whole. Ribbons of his cum paint your insides. You feel so full, both physically and spiritually, your heart bursting with love for the man that was spilling his adoration for you merely seconds ago.

Bodies spent and chests heaving, you lay on the desk with Katsuki on top of you. You don’t notice his hand sneaking under the desk, a click going off that goes equally overlooked, enveloped by your collective pants echoing in the stillness that is his hero office.

After a moment, the sensations catch up to you and the weight of his sweaty, heavy torso makes you squirm.

“Feel sticky…”

“There’s a shower and bath right there.” Bakugou grunts, but there’s playfulness behind his deceptively gruff mannerisms.

Your hands trail over his back at his response. “I know, but can you carry me?”

“Fine. Such a princess…”

“I’m your princess though.” You giggle, a teasing lilt in your carefree tone.

The blond can’t help the grin that finds his features. “Hell yeah you are.”

Bakugou pulls on his uniformed cargo pants to scrounge together some semblance of decency as he cradles you against him. Your body is like jelly in the Pro Hero’s strong arms, barely exercising the strength to hold onto him properly as he moves you to the unnecessarily luxurious bathroom built in his office. While setting you down on the counter next to the sink, the pager in his pocket rings.

“Food’s finally here.” He reaches for a hanger on the door, finding a bathrobe to blanket you in. “I’ll be back.”

You raise a brow. “Going out like that?”

“Relax, I’m putting a shirt on obviously.”

“A shirt, huh?” Not at all convinced, you cross your legs. You and him both know he absolutely reeks of sex. The marks you gave him are also an obvious giveaway. No doubt he’ll be an eye-turner to anyone he crosses paths with at the agency.

“Fine, I’ll have someone bring it up.” He meets you in the middle and you happily oblige, shoo-ing him to go about his business once again. The blond rolls his eyes, exiting the bathroom and out the large double doors of his office to wait at the elevator for his delivery.

And when those doors open with a ding, he’s greeted by the very last person he wishes to see. Swathed in the overbearing odor of her pungent perfume, his secretary stands heel-to-heel in the elevator, eyes crossed and a furious blush penetrating the matte layer of her foundation. Her steps traverse the threshold between the lift and hallway. With hands balled into small fists, she jabs the plastic bag of take-out food into the hero’s chest before wagging her finger at his disinterested demeanor.

“You..! You! How dare you?! Why, I should charge you for sexual harassment for what you did! So uncouth! Barbaric even!” She lectures vehemently, voice dripping with malice akin to the insults she practically spits at his face. The benevolent facade she dons everyday to garner his favor crumbles to pieces before his eyes and Bakugou can’t contain his laughter at the pathetic display.

“What’s so funny?!”

“Oh man, you’re a riot aren’t ya? You coulda very well just turn off your speaker if it bothered you so damn much,” he suggests, but the glint in his expression tells the woman he can see right through her. “But you didn’t, did you? You listened in on the whole thing like a fuckin’ pervert.”

At his deduction, the secretary blushes even harder. The fists at her sides shake with an anger that boils under her skin, melting her composure like the wicked witch of the west.

“Why you..! You’re the pervert here! Don’t think you can turn the situation on me when you’re the one who instigated this!” She points an accusing finger in his direction, an empty threat to the indifferent blond.

The hero barely offers her a scoff. “Me? The instigator? You got some fucking nerve saying that when all month you’ve been coming onto me practically on all fours despite knowing I’m a taken man.” Now it’s his turn to retort with equal venom and then some. His sudden switch in demeanor quickly overwhelms the woman as with every step he takes forward, she grows smaller and smaller.

“What’re you going to do? Tell the media? Report me to the authorities? Make a bunch of baseless rumors on your online blog? Well news flash—unlike you I’m irreplaceable. There won’t ever be another hero that has left as big of a mark on this country as I have, and you know it.” He holds his chest proudly after every word. In his presence, the secretary shrinks, gradually cowering back toward the elevator. Any semblance of nerve she held vanishes in front of her.

“Now start packing your things. If I don’t see your station left spotless by tomorrow morning I’ll make sure your days working for the hero industry are numbered.” It’s a threat she doesn’t dare challenge, wordlessly pressing a button on the panel to descend the floors and flee with her tail between her legs. The flabbergasted expression on her face is the last he sees of her.

And just like that, Katsuki feels a weight evaporate from his shoulders, releasing a deep sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He bounds back to his office with your lunch in tow.

When he returns, he overhears the water running in the bathroom before it’s soon shut off.

“Ah, ‘Suki, you’re back! I just filled the tub with water for our bath.” Your sincere smile meets his eyes which soften at the mere glimpse of you kneeling next to the tub, patiently awaiting his arrival.

“Fuck, babe, you weren’t suppose to move. Should be too sore after what I did t’ya.” He hoists you off the floor and into welcoming arms.

You pout cutely. “C’mon now, I’m not helpless you know.”

“‘Course not. But you’re my princess, remember? All mine.” He settles you both into the depths of the soothing, warm tub, nestling your body against his chest as he presses kisses in every area of tender skin he laid his claim on.

“And I plan to treat you like one for the rest of our lives.”

The very next morning, he finds a letter of resignation on his desk—the very place the two of you had fucked.

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