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moonlightndaydreams · 5 months

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A Friend in Need

You’ve finally had enough of your cheating bf and want to forget about him. Your friend Minho is more than happy to help you do just that.

Pairing: soft dom Lee Minho x fem reader

Trope: friends to Fwb?

Read time: 12 minutes approx.

MDNI // CW under the cut.

CW: alcohol, masturbation, fingering, blow job, cum swallowing, face riding, unprotected sex, choking, cream pie, soft dom /sub. Slight body insecurity.

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“So are you sitting on my face or am I fucking you over a table?” Minho grinned as you opened your front door greeted him. “I’ve got wine, condoms, and…” he looked in the plastic bag he was holding, “batteries for your toys. As requested.”

“Let’s start with the wine, I think.” You took the wine from him and made your way to your couch where you had two wine glasses waiting amongst a mountain of scrunched up tissues.

“Start with the wine?” Minho questioned. “I thought I was just picking up a few things you needed. Oh Shit!” Minho whistled, stopping still when he saw the state of your coffee table. “What did the fucker do this time to make you need an entire box of tissues?” He plopped down on the couch beside you.

“Oh, Minho!!!! I caught him fucking cheating on me. Again! In our fucking bed this time!!!!”

Minho blew out a breath taking the wine bottle back off you and immediately filling the glasses with the red then handing one to you.

“I’m so angry, Minho. I hate him! How could he?”

Minho wasn’t the least bit surprised. He knew you were dating a jerk. This was, Minho added it up in his head, the fifth time your boyfriend had cheated on you. This year. And he was pissed. Cunt. He thought to himself.

“Are you okay?” Minho asked softly, hiding the anger building in his chest.

You sat silently for a moment, deep in thought.

“I want to take you up on that offer.” You said bluntly. Minho was taken by surprise, sitting upright and stared at you blankly.

“If the offer still stands, that is. If the offer was real.” You added suddenly sounding unsure whether he was ever serious to begin with.

Every time your boyfriend would cheat on you, you’d confide in your long time friend Minho, and he would always offer to help you “forget that fucker’s name” by making “you cum so hard you’d never want to go back to him”. You’d always brushed it off as a joke. But when you came home yesterday to find your boyfriend in your shared bed, well, you were beyond livid. It was the last straw and you kicked him, and his little whore, out of your apartment. For good.

Now you needed to get your anger out of your system and forget the asshole even existed. That’s where Minho and his offer came in.

Minho examined your face and nodded slowly. “Okay,” he smirked. “So your shopping list was for tonight then?” He grinned. “Right. Operation Forget Your Ex. I’m down.” He said sipping the wine.

Your eyes widened. “Really? You’d help me do that? You’re not shitting me?”

Minho nearly spat out his drink he was so excited, although the circumstances weren’t ideal. But he played it cool, and boy was he far from shitting you. He’d been dying to show you how good fucking could feel. From what you’d told him, your boyfriend, no - ex-boyfriend now, barely even brought you to orgasm. It was an absolute shame. You deserved all the orgasms in the world. Tonight Minho planned to start by giving you at least three.

“Well, kitten, we’ll have to lay down some ground rules. Boundaries. Safe words and such.”

“Tentacles.” You piped up.

“What?”

“My safe word. Tentacles.”

“Riiiiight. Tentacles. Why tent- never mind.” He shook his head. “Do you want to be in charge or leave it to me?”

“What do you prefer?”

“I like to be in charge.”

“Okay, you’re in charge.”

“What’s your pain threshold? Do you enjoy spanking? Degradation? Praise?” he raised an eyebrow. “Any hard no’s?”

You stared at him like a deer in the headlights. "I-I'm not sure." you said, then gulped down the rest of your wine.

"Woah! Slow down, kitten." he lunged forward and took your glass from your trembling hands and placed it on the coffee table. Then he took your hands in his and held them tight.

"We don't have to do this. You know that right? I don't wanna take adva-"

"Please, Minho." You whimpered. "Please make me forget." You looked at him with soft eyes.

Minho suddenly felt nervous. He'd imagined fucking you plenty of times, and up until this moment he felt sure he'd have no problems in actually doing it. But now, faced with the reality of it, he was so fucking nervous.

But his dick throbbed, and you were the one asking, inviting him to do things to your body. He couldn't let his nerves get in the way and fuck up this chance.

He cupped your cheek and pulled you in for a soft kiss. The way you responded by moaning and parting your lips, was so tantalising that Minho couldn't help but deepen the kiss with a sense of urgency. You've got all night, he told himself. Don't rush this.

"So..." he peeled his lips off of yours. "do we need to replace any batteries for your toys?" he asked, reaching for the plastic bags.

You shook your head. "Just want you." you whispered.

Minho smirked at your admission. "I think we should take this to the bedroom so I can thoroughly fuck you." he said, taking your hand and picking up the box of condoms.

Minho tossed the condoms on the bed and pressed your back into your bedroom door. His hands caressed the sides of your waist before grabbing the hem of your top and pulling it up over your head. His fingers immediately found the clasp of your bra.

"Kitten?" he said low in your ear. "I'm not going to stop unless you say your safeword, or use the colour system. I need you to know that."

"Yes, I know." you moaned, as he squeezed your breast.

"I'm going to take your pants off now." he reached for the button on your jeans and locked eyes with you. Your arms came up to cover your bare torso.

"Kitten? Talk to me." he looked at you with concern.

"Minho. It's just that... the women you...um... normally hook up with are so glamorous."

Minho blinked rapidly. "Kitten, you're fucking perfect." he gently tugged you to stand in front of your full length mirror with him standing behind you. "Look at yourself." he whispered, pulling your arms down from your body so you couldn't hide.

You leaned back against his chest as he nibbled your neck. He undid your jeans, sliding them down your legs and helping you kick them off.

"You're the most gorgeous woman in the world." his hands explored your waist, stomach, hips. Then he took one of your hands in his and placed it on your stomach and making you caress yourself. He brought your hand up to cup your own breast, and then back down your body and between your legs over your panties.

"Feel how perfect you are." he said in a lustful tone. He pressed on your hand that was cupping your pussy. You whimpered and began to feel unsteady on your feet. You'd only had one wine.

"You're gonna take your panties off for me now." he said releasing his hands from yours. His hands moved back up your body, massaging your breast with one, the other splaying on your neck.

You slowly peeled your panties down, revealing your most intimate parts, and shimmying them off and flicking them to the side with your foot.

"Good girl. Now play with yourself." he squeezed your neck slightly causing you to lean your head back some more.

You felt so exposed standing fully naked in front of your mirror, leaning against a fully dressed Minho. Your friend.

Your eyes flicked up to him in the mirror. He was taking you in with dark eyes. Your core ached. His hardness was pressed into your back. Fuck!

"Touch yourself." he urged.

Your heart was pounding as you allowed your hands to explore your curves and soft skin. Your fingers found your pussy again and you parted your lips with your fingers. You groaned as you watched yourself. This was so erotic. So sensual.

"Are you wet kitten? Let me taste." he pulled your hand up to his mouth and sucked on your finger. "Fuck. Taste yourself." he swiped your fingers back through your folds and then into your mouth.

"I need to play with your pussy." He took a few steps back to sit on the edge of your bed and pulled you onto his lap. "Open your legs, that's it. Show me." He hung your legs over his thighs so you were open and on display in the mirror.

"Don't take your eyes off it." he said in a gruff tone.

Minho's fingers delved into your heat, inserting two all the way inside. He fucked you like this for several minutes before pulling them out and rubbing on your clit. Then he'd finger fuck you again, alternating between stretching you open and rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves. You could feel your core tightening. Minho's fingers were magic as he played with your body.

The pretty sounds you were making had Minho straining in his pants. He wanted to sink his cock into you so fucking bad. But at the same time he wanted to take his sweet ass time. He wanted you to beg him to stop. He wanted you to be a whimpering mess.

By the fifth round of finger fucking you were clenching hard and soaking his hand as you came hard. Your chest was flushed as your breasts heaved. You looked so fucked out.

"Now, kitten." He said as calm as possible. "You're going to undress me now."

He watched you stand in front of him. He bit his lip as you fumbled taking his shirt off, your bare tits dangling in his face, and then his trousers, leaving him in just his boxers. "You've forgotten something." he quirked an eyebrow.

His cock visibly twitched when you dropped to your knees between his legs and hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers.

You tried to not let Minho see how nervous you were as you came face to face with his cock. You wanted to show him how much you wanted him right now. You wanted to show him how beautiful, how sexy he was making you feel, despite how self conscious you were.

You took his glorious cock in your hand and experimented with licking the pre-cum from the tip. He was hard for you. He was leaking for you. "Aren't you going to boss me around, Minho?" you purred, looking up at him through hooded eyes.

"Choke on it, kitten." he said not breaking eye contact. "Show me how much you can take."

Minho could barely contain himself as you sunk your warm, wet mouth over his shaft. He truly believed he was going to cum there and then. Maybe he could, and then get it up again to fuck you? It'd be pretty easy to get hard again when you were driving him crazy like this.

"That's it, beautiful. Make those pretty noises around my cock. That's it. Deeper, baby. You can take it. I know you can." he started to thrust his hips up, making you gag as his cock hit the back of your throat.

It turned him on immensely hearing you struggle. Your hand found his and when you placed it on the back of your head, he knew you were made for him. He held your head in place as he fucked into your throat. He watched your ass in the mirror and imagined what you were going to feel like with your cunt wrapped around his cock. He came hard with a loud moan. Your lips were pressed against his pelvis and tears ran down your face as he spurted cum down your throat.

He was almost instantly hard again when you slid your mouth off and opened it up to see you'd swallowed every drop.

“Ride my face." He panted.

“Oh Minho.” You shook your head. “I don’t think—“

“Safeword? Are you going to use it? ‘Cos I fucking want to eat you out.” He wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you in for a kiss. “Please…I can make you feel so good. I need you to ride my face.” He was practically begging you.

Minho didn’t know what was happening to him. He was always so in control when it came to sex. He’d never said ‘please’, he always instructed, demanded even. But this was you. You were different. You stirred something in his stomach, and made his heart beat faster.

“Okay, Minho. But I’ve… you know…never done this before.” Your face went red.

So that fucker never got you to ride his face? He wondered if he’d ever eaten you out. He quickly shoved thoughts of your ex out of his head and focused on what he was about to do. Make you cum all over his face.

“It’s okay kitten, I’ve got you.” He shuffled more onto the mattress and laid back. “All you need to do is straddle my face, and sit.”

He made it sound so simple. But to you nothing could make you feel more vulnerable than what you were about to do. But the way he sounded so desperate for you to do it made you want to please him. You climbed up onto the bed.

“Na uh. The other way. You need to be able to watch yourself.” He grinned.

You swallowed nervously, but did as instructed. You watched yourself hover inches away from Minho’s face.

“Fuck, I can see how fucking wet you are. Quick, sit.” He hooked his arms around your thighs and pulled you down on top of him.

You cried out as Minho’s mouth met your pussy. He ran his tongue through your lips then sucked your clit.

“Shit, Minho… it… fuck you feel good.” You choked. Minho chuckled against your cunt, sending shocks through your body.

Your eyes went to the mirror. Seeing your reflection of being eaten out by the man underneath you and how you could be suffocating him, turned you on more than you could’ve imagined. Could he breathe? The thought of him struggling for air made you gush. You started to rock your hips and grind against his face. He moaned against your core in approval.

Your orgasm was close, and when he slipped his tongue into your creamy hole, and you ground your pussy hard and fast on his face, you cried out loudly as you flew over the edge. Your thighs were physically shaking around Minho’s head from the intensity of the orgasm.

Minho didn’t even let you recover before he had you on your back, legs pinned up near your chest. He kissed you sloppily, smearing your wetness all over your mouth. It was the best thing Minho had ever experienced, having his face buried in your pussy while you fucking rubbed your slick all over him.

He gazed down at you. He knew he was weak for you, but he didn’t know he had it this bad.

“You going to fuck me now, Minho?” You looked up at him.

Minho nodded. “Yeah.” He whispered “Let me just find the cond—“

“Don’t you want to feel me, Minho? Nothing in the way.” You purred, pulling him in for another kiss. The length of his cock pressed against your sopping pussy.

“Just the tip?” You whispered. “Just for a second?” You begged.

Fuck! He groaned at the temptation.

“Kitten,” he said sternly. “If I put it in it won’t be just the tip.” He slid his entire cock into your heat. The stretch, the fullness, made you gasp.

“And,” he growled, “It won’t be just for a second.” He partially withdrew his cock and slammed back in. “It’ll be until you beg me to stop.” He hammered into you. “I’m going to fuck you until you have to use your safe word.”

You felt so good around Minho that he highly doubted he’d be able to follow through on such promises.

“I’m never gonna use my safe word, Minho.” You cried as he pounded into you. “Feels too good. You feel good, Minho… oh fuck…Minho!”

The way you were crying his name catapulted him towards his climax. He wasn’t going to last much longer.

“You want me to fuck you forever?” He panted.

“I want… I want…you to…”

“What is it kitten, anything.” He meant it. He wanted to give you everything you wanted.

“Ch-choke me while you fill me up.” You squeaked.

Without slowing down, Minho searched your eyes. You were serious.

Feeling Minho’s cock so deep in your cunt, stretching you do deliciously, had you on the brink of your third orgasm. But when his fingers wrapped around your neck and squeezed, it made your core clench harder than usual.

You’ve never let anyone do this to you before, never trusting anyone enough. You only ever fantasized about it, watched porn, or experimented on yourself. You never dared tell anyone, especially your ex.

Your vision became blurry as a lightheadedness took over you. You felt fuzzy, floaty, and then you felt yourself coming back, taking in deep breaths before he’d squeeze again. You were certain Minho had done this before, and so you succumbed, letting him take control of your body, letting him choke you and bring you back as many times as he wanted, without any fear that he’d go so far as to render you unconscious. You lost track of how many times he did it. Five, maybe six times?

“This time you have to cum for me.” You heard him say. “Then I can fill you up. I wanna fill you up so bad, kitten.”

His hand squeezed around one last time and you felt yourself come undone. You squeezed around Minho’s cock like a vice and felt him release inside you. You felt like your entire body was exploding, until Minho let go of your neck and held your close, brining all the shattered pieces back together.

“You did so good, kitten. You’re back now. Safe I’ve got you.” He soothed as you began to sob. You’d never experienced anything so intense, so powerful in your life.

You fell asleep almost straight away, and Minho cleaned you both up while you nodded off. Sweet fucking Jesus he wished he’d have been able to do this with you sooner.

He watched you, dead to the world, marvelling at what had unfolded.

“I fucking love you y/n. I hope you’ll have me a little more permanently and never think about that dick ex of yours again.” He whispered as he laid down beside you.

He didn’t know you’d heard him.

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@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @bethanysnow @newhope8 @itsseohannbin

#lee know smut #lee know x y/n #lee know x reader #lee Minho smut #Skz smut #sorshas fic

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madamechrissy · 25 days

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Take Me Home Tonight

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Law Professor Satoru Gojo x Student Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Gojo is like 29 here, reader is like 22 or 23. Nothing too crazy. But is Professor/teacher forbidden type love. In this chap- Fingering, cunnilingus, blow jobs, explicit sex, rough sex, breeding kink, mentions of violence, descriptions of violence (ANGSTY CHAP)

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 11k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ After passing your LSATs, your friends take you out to unwind. You never go out, so you are awkwardly agree, and you end up in the arms of a super hot man named Satoru. You end up screaming Satoru's name as he drops down on his knees before you, only to lose him in the club. All you have is his first name. Two months later, in your Criminal Law class, your heart stops. Your teacher? Professor Gojo. Or as you soon call him, Professor Dickhead. You can't fuck up your law school, and he won't fuck up his career, not just because he makes you wet in class, no, he's a dick. Right?

That pout and blue eyes don't wreck you, right? - Lawyer AU (If you wanna be tagged in updates let me know 💓)

Chapter 8 - Masterlist

Chapter 9

Books are scattered all over Satoru’s dining room table, as you both are nibbling on food together, papers and pictures, documentation and even… weapon photos, evidence photos. How Satoru and you could both eat while looking at these things really made you both a little questionable, but in a way you feel so comfortable, with your years of eating while watching true crime.

Satoru Gojo is your person.

“Okay, look here, see the wound marks?” Satoru asks, sipping on a drink and leaning over you, his one arm around your waist as the other sets down the glass and points to bruising on the victim’s face.

“Oh.. it’s left-handed isn’t it?” He nods, sighing.

“Smart little brat.” He kisses the top of your head briefly, before bending over to snatch up the other document, with another victim. “Now look at her.”

“Oh shit… left-handed. Wait, there's two victims?”

“No. Two different cases.” He sighs, sitting next to you and frowning, so serious then, you gently rub his back then. “So, I haven’t told you my worst fear.”

“What is it, Satoru?” You murmur, and he looks at you with those beautiful blue eyes for a moment.

“Well, now my worst fear is losing you.” He caresses your cheek, and you melt, planting a kiss on his brow gently, sighing.

“It’s one of my new fears as well.”

“But my original fear? Putting someone innocent up, and letting someone awful go. Considering I’m a defense attorney typically, it’s the latter that haunts my dreams.” He rakes a hand through his hair, and you place your head on his shoulder, brushing your fingers down his back.

“I imagine that’s a horrible fear. And unavoidable in some situations.” He nods a bit stiffly.

“It’s the worst, and I’m worried it happened.” You blink a bit, trying to follow what he was talking about, and his fists clench at his side. “I lose myself with you. Which is beautiful, but when I was alone last night I was thinking of this case, and similarities to the first high case I did… and I think it’s fucked up.”

“Do you think you missed something, Satoru?” You gently ask, and you hate how sad he looks, forlorn.

“I do. There was a case where I saw no way to do anything but get this kid life sentence, because the possibility of parole is fifteen years, right? Better than a needle in the arm.”

“Very true. But you think…”

“Yeah, I had a feeling he was innocent, deep down in my heart, but how could I have done anything? It was all stacked against the kid. He had a shit record, he even had assault in the past, but he was young, younger than you. I thought I was being the best to him I could.” He slams his fist down, and you tense a bit, grabbing his drink and bringing it to his lips.

You watch as he gulps down some of it, sighing. “Satoru don’t beat yourself up over this, isn’t this still a hunch?”

“Nah, baby girl, I’m pretty damn sure I’ve seen this before. It’s been driving me insane. And now I have to defend this person who could actually have been killing for who knows how long!? Fuck me.” He’s slamming his hands down again, turning and walking away, sighing.

“Okay so let’s think logically here…” You pull back out the files, taking a sip of the drink yourself as Satoru is pacing. He’s wearing his dress shirt loose, his chest showing, tie askew, belt slung off and trousers hanging low. He’s gorgeous but you need to focus on this. “The man you put up, he was left-handed, yeah?”

“Yeah, he was.”

“But the women look identical, and the attack is damn near the same. So we have to think, what could connect these two men? Could they have been at the same place at the same time, to meet these girls?” Satoru pauses, then snatches up the bottle of vodka on the table, pouring some in both of your glasses.

“Huh. You’re smart as fuck.” You flush under the praise, and look at him just drinking the vodka without anything.

“Thank you. Satoru… I need a mixer.” He smirks finally, rolling his pretty eyes and batting his white lashes.

“What a baby.”

“Says the man who drinks chocolatinis!”

“You started that, brat. Mmkay, I have mixers, come on let's go find ya something.” You hop up from the table, taking in Satoru’s lush home. It was beautiful, spotless and modern, gray walls with white crown moulding, all the fixtures brand new and beautiful. His bar was impressive, black marble counter and high stools, pretty soft fairy lights hanging.

He opens the black cabinets, pulling out a bright green bottle then. “Ooh, that looks yummy!”

“You like sour apple?” You nod, and Satoru is expertly mixing you up a pretty bright drink, you sip it moaning.

“A girl could get used to this treatment.” Satoru comes to you then, hands on your waist, leaning low, and you inhale his clean scent, intoxicating you. Your body instinctively arches to him.

“You trying to move in already, huh?” You giggle, shaking your head.

“No, silly. That would be too fast, yeah?”

“I’d let you. Aw, you’re bright red.” He teases you, and your entire body lights up at his words.

“You’re so crazy, Satoru Gojo.” You say softly, leaning up on your tip toes, and he leans down, kissing you gently, you taste the liquor mixed with his minty breath, feel his firm lips on yours. “Mmm, didn’t say I never would though.”

“When you’re not in my class huh? We’ll get married too.”

“Satoru!”

“What? You wouldn’t?”

“You’re talking nonsense.”

“Am I? You probably doodled it already.”

“Did not!” You both laugh then, but the tension is there, the way Satoru casually mentions weddings, babies, moving in. Like it’s nothing. “Satoru, it's hard to know what you really mean. Like the baby thing…”

“What, I meant that. I’d love to get you pregnant.” His words hit something primal, something that makes your tummy clench, his whisper reverberating through every inch of your body.

“The school would love that.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes, hand sliding over your tummy then, making you tremble.

“Fuck them, but you wouldn’t show till after you’re out of my class.” He grins, his white teeth glinting.

“Stop that! Staying on the pill for now.”

“You’re boring.” He’s pouting and you just giggle.

“I have a career you know.”

“Good, have the baby with us all the time. Lawyer by age ten. Our genetics would be killer, yeah?”

“You’re so ridiculous. But yeah.” You both chuckle then again, and you take a sip of your drink, lips puckering just a bit as it hits you. “Something about that vision makes my ovaries ache.”

“You’re ovulating. Perfect time.” He chimes out in a sing-song voice, you bite back a moan, sipping your drink.

“You don’t need to tell me. I think I went insane in the limo.” He’s grinning like the damn mad hatter now, as vivid memories rush through you of earlier.

“You took it all. I think you have sucked dick before mine! And that makes me unreasonably jealous.” You roll your eyes now, snorting and shaking your head.

“Not at all, I just apparently need to be the best at everything.” You take another sip grinning.

“You really are. I don’t think I’ve had someone make me cum so quick, fuck it’s embarrassing.”

“You’re kinda easy, Toru.” He glares and you just grin more deviously, as he picks you up and sits you on the bar, running his hands up and down your thighs, creating a pattern of goosebumps everywhere he touches. You gently run your hands down his shoulders, rubbing the stiff muscles and making him moan. “Turn, I’ll rub your neck, you’re crazy tense.”

“What’d I do to deserve you?” His casual compliments kill you, every minute you spend with Satoru Gojo makes you just fall deeper. Your fingers press into his stiff neck, making him moan, leaning back against you. “Fuck that feels good.”

“I’ll rub your back any time, Toru. As long as you rub mine.”

“I’ll probably just get horny and fuck you.” You laugh at that, breathy and soft, planting kisses on his neck, pressing your fingers deeper in little circles, trying to work on a knot there.

“Fine, you can just eat me out.” He groans, hands on your thighs tightening as he leans back more against you.

“I’ve been doing that since I met you.” His husky voice has you dripping against your panties, and you try to focus on rubbing deeper, loosening his tense body as much as you can. “It’s my favorite thing to do.”

“It’s my favorite thing.” You whisper in his ear, watching him tremble a bit, grip tightening, while your hands press deeper, massaging between his shoulder blades now, where most of his tension is. “You’re really tense here.”

“I will pay you to massage me every day. Oh and to dress slutty.” He sips your drink now. “Ooh yummy.”

“You could hire a professional!”

“Nah. I’ll just pay you. With diamonds.” You peek at your bracelet, shaking your head. “Then I’ll just buy you another bracelet.”

“You can get me a bead. That’s it.”

“I’ll sneak things on you in your sleep. Then it’ll be rude to turn it down.” You can’t stop the smile on your face at his words.

“Maybe.” You say softly, continuing to rub lower now, feeling his spine just pop then, and he groans. “There it is.”

“I’ll marry you now, woman.”

“Stop that, do you know what you do to my mentality? So casually.” His hands slide down your calves now, as he tilts his head side to side.

“What? It’s true.”

“You can’t just say things like that. Already feel like I’m dreaming.” Another pop, as he cracks his neck, becoming putty in your hands.

“Fine, brat, I won’t propose yet if you’re such a baby about it.”

“You so were not gonna!”

“Wanna bet?”

“Satoru!” You press really hard and he groans again.

“Never mind, marry me.” You both laugh and then you continue rubbing down his back, to the mid part of it, feeling every stupidly strong muscle through his dress shirt, watching the soft fabric stretch as you press.

“So, my thoughts on that case…”

“Buzz kill!”

“I know, but it’s bothering me now.” Satoru moans again as your hands knead into his aching back. “Any clubs they could have been at together? Both of those women were… um, escorts yeah?”

“High class too, yeah. I had an informant that worked with them on the first case, but no way she’d remember that far back. It was six years ago.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to ask, though. Maybe we see if she remembers seeing this guy you’re defending? But in that case, you still have to defend him. Fuck.”

“You’re annoyingly smart.” He glares back at you as he speaks. “You remind me of me in law school.”

“High praise.” Your hands are going lower now, and he’s leaning so close it’s hard to move your arms, so instead your hands slide down his shoulders, wrapping his chest and leaning your chin on his neck. “We should get with her and ask while we’re doing the case.”

“You really wanna meet her? See these things… I don’t know how involved you want to be.”

“I need to see it all, Satoru. I really do. If this is going to be what I do I have to know what I’m in for, good, bad or horrible.”

“This girl was assaulted too, but she couldn’t see him. What if it’s the fucking guy I’m defending!?” You snuggle closer, though his back was less tense his entire body was not.

“How do you act so happy with all this happening?” You ask it softly, and he turns his head to you, nuzzling yours.

“I have to.”

“Not with me you don’t.” He exhales, turning then, hands sliding up your thighs, eyes boring into yours, pain on that beautiful face mixed with clear affection, mirroring your own. You gently brush his hair back, and his eyes flutter shut, lips parting as he sighs.

“That’s the most addicting thing about you, I don’t have to pretend.” Your heart thuds in your chest, and you pull him closer, planting a kiss on his chin, heart brimming with affection.

“You never have to pretend around me. You have a lot of responsibility.”

“Yeah, you do too already. I’m putting a lot on you.”

“No, no I want this, okay? I won’t let studies slack, I’m a nerd.” He smirks, planting a soft kiss on your nose.

“You are my little nerdy student, huh? Ace every test.”

“Sure do.”

“I don’t wanna talk about the case anymore tonight. Let’s revisit it tomorrow, yeah? I’m suddenly realizing my student needs some attention.” His voice gets husky, his eyes dilating as he’s slipping your dress up your thighs, and you manage a little nod, then he’s picking you up, like you’re nothing, carrying you to his room.

You’re in Satoru Gojo’s room, huh?

His room is just a little disorganized, a bit unlike the rest of the house, you see his ties hanging on a lamp, his fancy sunglasses just tossed on the sleek black dresser, his bed is a little wild, rumpled and unmade. You peek around curiously, and he’s kissing down your neck, his room alone is twice the size of your dorm.

“Like the room, brat?” He teases, and you nod, leaning back to kiss him deeply, hands enwrapping in his silky white locks.

“It’s more you than the rest of the house.” You murmur between kisses, he hums, easing you down on the bed now, and it’s so comfy you could die, plush and sinking a bit as you sit.

“You mean because the cleaner doesn’t come in here?” He’s pushing your skirt up, pressing you onto the bed, kissing your thighs, his hands sliding your panties off inch by inch. It’s hard to breathe, as you’re consumed by him, by his presence, taking you over with every touch.

“Yeah, it just seems more… Gojo.” He chuckles, planting sweet kisses on your thighs, hot breath making you tremble. “Mnh…”

“We had a deal, yeah? Massage for pussy eating.”

“I also said massage!”

“I’ll massage her with my tongue.” He’s buried himself then, his mouth hot and wet on your pussy, and you’re gripping the soft blankets under you, your eyes rolling back in your head as he licks and kisses and sucks, his tongue flicking against your clit in a way that has you seeing stars.

“Satoru! Oh my god!” You moan out his name, your hips bucking up to meet his mouth, and he just holds you down, his grip firm as he continues to worship you, his tongue sliding up and down your slit, making you gush all over his perfect face.

“So yummy, you’re such a good girl.” He whispers, leaning back, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts under your top. You’re shaking, damn near hyperventilating as you stare down at his beautiful eyes, dilated and bright to the point his eyes alone bring you closer.

“Fucking love you.” You whisper, it’s the first time since your confession that you’ve said it, and fuck it feels so good. Satoru groans, planting a sloppy kiss on the hood of your clit, then sucking on the puffy lips, little smacks filling the room as you cry out, back arching in pleasure.

“And I love you. Hmm am I talking to the pussy or you? You’ll never know.” He says with a smirk, and you giggle before he’s back to devouring you, groaning and making a vibrating sensation you can’t fucking take.

“S’good Toru- ngh f-fuck!” You scream out, you’re so close to cumming, and you know he knows it because he’s looking up at you, watching your reactions, and it’s so fucking hot. Your hands grip his hair, bucking your hips up. “Cumming!”

He just moans, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue, and you’re falling apart, cumming with a scream, your body arching off the bed, and he doesn’t stop, even then, no he’s drinking you up. You’re whining now, oversensitive as he licks you through your orgasm into another, his hands sliding to your waist, gripping you so tight you feel him pressing on your ribs, hands enwrapping you.

“Toru! Oh my- mmm!” You’re senseless, screaming as your head shoves further in the bed, you can’t fucking take it, thighs threatening to close, but he doesn’t pause, or even breathe no he’s just drinking you up, and you’re shattering again. “Toru, enough, enough! Ah!”

You cum all over his face so hard you’ve soaked him completely, and he’s just groaning, as he laps you up with little flicks of his talented tongue, smacking kisses as he cleans up your mess. You’re so embarrassed at how much there is too, as your legs are shaking and he’s finally leaning up to breathe, his face is shimmering with how much you’ve came.

“Toru…” You swipe some of your arousal off his chin, and he smacks your hand away, leaning on top of you, licking his lower lip. “That’s embarrassing… too much.”

“What? It’s so fucking hot. Stop that.” He’s on top of you, his hard chest on your soft breasts, weight on you so inviting, and you cling to him, still clothed both of you, and he’s so hot you’re just dripping again. “I love how much you cum for me, it lets me know you like it.”

“But that much!?” He chuckles softly, caressing your face softly and studying you. Your hands slide up to his chest, feeling his heart thudding on your palm, pressure in your tummy as your cunt pulses with aftershocks.

“Yes, that much, or more. You always taste so good. It was what made me lose my shit that night.” He kisses you then, and you lick your honeyed arousal, moaning against his full lips, as he sinks you both deeper into the bed.

“I still can’t believe I did that. Yes, stranger, eat me out in a bathroom.” You murmur, and you both grin at each other. “Fuck it feels a long time ago huh?”

“It’d be much longer if I didn’t see you again. Fuck I kept going back to the same bar.” He’s flushed a bit, but it makes you ache more, hips raising to grind on his hard cock between your thighs over his clothes.

“You did!?” You blink rapidly, taking a shaky breath as his presence consumes you, his long body overtaking yours, his eyes getting hooded in desire, just like yours were, as his words sink in.

“I did. Embarrassing huh.”

“N-no… I did too, Satoru.”

“You did!?”

You blush now, nodding, clinging to his dress shirt with your little hands. “Of course I tried. I’m surprised neither of us ran into each other?”

“Maybe I was just meant to have you torture me in class.” His voice drops down to a whisper now, and he leans up on his arms. “I need my student naked. Now.”

“Yes, Professor.” He’s sliding your top off in seconds, and you eagerly unbutton his dress shirt, then he’s unsnapping your bra, freeing your breasts and groaning as he does, pulling you against his bare chest. “You’re so gorgeous, Toru.”

“I know.” You snort at that, and then he grins, sliding his hands up to cup your breasts, kissing down them, making you cry out in pleasure, cunt just wetter now. “You’re gorgeous, Miss Brat.”

“Your prettiest student, hmm?” You whisper, he nods eagerly, before sucking the sensitive peaks of your breasts into his hot, eager mouth. “Ah, fuck! Mnh!”

“The sounds you make, mmm you kill me, brat.” He’s unzipping the side of your skirt now, eyes devouring your body hungrily. He makes you feel so confident, so sexy and beautiful. You whine out just from his gaze, like he’s touching you with his hands, but soon he does, trailing down as he slides your skirt down, and you are unbuttoning his pants, biting your lower lip.

“Your body, ugh.” He smirks, wiggling his brows.

“I know, I’m perfect hmm?” You roll your eyes but it’s true, as you touch every line on his gorgeous frame, every muscle, abdomen, line… the perfect pale skin that is hot to the touch.

“You’re perfect, Satoru. And you clearly have a praise kink, judging by that.” You look down between you both as his cock is rock hard in his boxers.

“That’s part praise kink, part you’re touching me, part you’re beautiful. Take your pick.” He snatches your hand, shoving it down, and you grip him, watching as his cheeks suck in, his white lashes swooping low as he groans softly.

“Let’s get these off.” Satoru has got them off in a blink of an eye, his cock hard and hot in your hand, you stroke him up and down slowly, swirling your hand as you do, watching his pretty face as he moans, grabbing you by your hair and kissing you then. “So hard, aren’t you?”

“Tease.” You just smile innocently, swiping the bit of pre cum that’s started to leak out of his pretty pink tip, and he’s huffing, so sexy, until he lets out the whimper that drives you insane, and then he’s got your legs up, dragging you by your hips. “I’ll teach you to tease.”

“Oh yeah? Teach me, Professor.”

“You’re such a brat, you know my weaknesses and exploit them! You’ll be such a good lawyer.” He flashes a wolfish grin, but when he’s pressed at your entrance you start whining, getting slippery as he barely presses, arching up for more.

“Please, Toru…” Your words hit him instantly, he’s pressing in, sliding even deeper in your tight entrance.

“How can I say no to anything you ask? With that pretty face. Oh… fuck, you’re tight… shit…” He’s groaning as he slides in fully, and your walls are clutching tight around him, he clings to you tightly, eyes slamming shut momentarily. “Fuck, should’ve fingered you, damn it.”

“Too tight huh?” You’re giggling but he scowls at you, slamming in your cunt then, and you feel so full, so much pressure you can’t take it, as he starts stroking, way faster and harder than he usually would, killing you. “Fuck!”

“Learn your lesson, brat.” He’s slamming his lips down, kissing you hungry and desperate, and he’s got your legs higher than you think they should go, pressing them high until they’re on your breasts, making it hard to breathe. You whine out, hips bucking, and he’s smirking. “Aww you okay baby? Can’t take it?”

Satoru Gojo was a sweet, caring, amazing man… until he got that competitive streak, mainly in fucking. Then? He’s a whole demon.

“F-fuck you, I can take it.” You whisper out the answer, but when Satoru’s big hands are cupping your face, and he’s staring at you like that? Your brows knit together, your teeth clicking shut as you feel such intensity you can’t handle it, you’re cumming all over his cock and he exhales, pausing, thumbs caressing your cheeks as his tip grinds too deep inside you.

“Fuck, I love you.” He moans out the words, as he’s tensing, his movements slowing down, rolling his hips. “You’re gonna make me cum quick, fuck.”

“I love you.” He cries out softly, hands now firm on your thighs, as he gently rocks in his hips so deep you feel like you’re gonna fall apart.

“What do you do to me?” His eyes flutter shut, those long white lashes over his cheeks, casting shadows in the soft light of the room over his perfect features, and he’s barely moving, forehead on yours. You cling to him desperately, nails digging into his strong back, and he’s throwing his head back, moaning. “Cum with me, baby girl, can’t even last. Brat.”

You manage a breathless giggle, nodding, your walls fluttering around his thickness. “Please, please… cum in me, Toru.”

“Fill you up.” He’s just whispering though, as he pumps in and out, and you feel him pulsing inside of you, and your body reacts, and you’re falling apart around him, cumming right with him, everything fading but him.

It’s just him.

“F-fuck… take all of it. Good girl.” Your back arches as everything washes through you, every nerve ending lit up as your cunt is pulsing around him. He slams his lips down on yours, finally easing your thighs down, they’re sore as he rubs them gently, pumping life into them as he pumps all his cum in your pussy.

“S-Satoru… love you. Mnh.” You whisper, and he moans, kissing you again and again, deeply and passionate, tongues entwining, messy as you’re dripping down his length, down your thighs, and he leans back, looking down at you. Your hand slides up to caress his face, feeling the sharp cheekbone with your thumb.

“Stop making my bust quick, little brat.” He says, and you just giggle, shaking your head.

“I came though, a few times.”

“You get off on making me cum like a teenager. Be honest.”

“Mmm… maybe?” He tickles your waist then, as he eases out, and you giggle at it, eventually hopping up, completely naked and smacking him with one of his heavy, fancy pillows. He grins like a psycho.

“Oh, it’s fucking on. War.” He smacks the fuck out of you with the pillow, nearly knocking you over, so you pout, and then he frowns, coming up to you, to check you, only for you to grin and smack him with the pillow even harder.

“Hah, fell for it!”

“You’re gonna pay for it.” He gets you again until he’s got you pinned back under him, and he’s grinning down at you, you puff your breath to get the feathers out of your face. “Fuck you’re pretty.”

“You’re pretty, Satoru.” He’s kissing you till you're breathless, and then he pauses, leaning up a bit and studying you carefully. “What’s wrong?”

“Huh… I’m really worried now. You look like one of those girls, your hair, your eyes even… I don’t know if I can bring you.”

“What!? I’m going!”

“But I can’t fucking risk it, what if this guy-”

“You’ll keep me safe.”

He exhales, but you see the worry on his features. “Of course I will, but I just didn’t put it together until now. You’re the same age, obviously not the same profession… but…”

“Satoru I will be fine. I want to help you. We will figure out the possible motivations, okay?” Satoru sighs, caressing your face gently, anguish in his blue eyes making them darken.

“I just fucked you and now I’m worrying about this case.”

“So what? It’s important to you. Do you wanna do more research?” He sighs, nodding then, and soon you’re sliding on your pajama’s you’ve brought, and you two are back out in the living room, pouring over the papers, but you’re yawning a bit after about an hour or so. Satoru notices, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“I’m sorry baby girl, I wanna cuddle with you and relax but now that I’m thinking of you at risk it’s gonna drive me fucking crazy.” He runs a hand through his white silky locks, missing them up further.

“Satoru, I don't mind at all. I want to help anyway I can.” You stifle another yawn, and he looks at you tenderly, you see he’s sleepy too, his eyes a little red.

“You worked today and had classes. Go get some shut eye, Miss Brat. I promise I’ll come to bed soon.”

“Just a little longer.” You murmur, leaning on his shoulder then, as he’s typing on his little black laptop, pouring over more papers now, the clicking of the keys mixed with Satoru’s breathing is oddly even more comforting.

“Baby you’re drooling.” He teases in a few, and you blink a little, bleary eyed as you shake your head.

“No… Toru, m’good… those girls-”

“Don’t let it overwhelm you, please.” You shake your head again, your eyelids feel so heavy.

"We need to look into the escort agency, Toru. Maybe there's something in their past, something that connects these women to each other and to the victims." He smiles at you, holding you against his side, kissing your cheek again.

“Already on it. You’re so smart, you know that?” You smile at the compliment, and soon he’s grabbed a blanket, and you’re in his arms, half asleep on his lap. “You can just sleep on me, I’ll carry you to bed later.”

You hum happily, snuggling up to his hard, hot body, and he pulls you close, arms around your waist, continuing to click away, and your face buried in his neck, he wraps the blanket tighter. You feel sleep tugging at you, you’re just so comfortable in his arms, you can’t imagine how you slept before.

Satoru pours over the case, hearing you lightly snore, making him smirk just a bit, you say you don’t but you do. And it’s cute. Everything about you, from your soft hair falling against his chest, to your warm little body snug on his lap makes him ache more for you. Your gentle breathing, your scent, the way you cling to him and just fit so perfectly.

How had Satoru gone so long without you here?

He focuses back on the screen, and it starts blurring a bit, a mix of exhaustion, stress and the drinks from earlier. But it’s driving him insane, the thought that he could have put someone up wrongly. It’s been eating at him all week since he’s taken the new case, but now you were here, and fuck you’re so smart, it’s so nice to just have you here.

But he’s worried.

If something happened to you? Satoru doesn’t know how he could go on. Without seeing your pretty smile, the little scrunch of your nose, the way your eyes drink him in, the love is so pure in them. The way you love him makes every pain he has so much more tolerable, and there’s so many things he hasn’t told you yet. He trusts you completely, but he’s scared.

He’s not one to be vulnerable, but you make it so easy to be, though he doesn’t know how much he should put on you, how much of the darkness deep inside him he should show. Satoru has always been fun, goofy and silly outwardly, though when alone he’s anything but, and it’s so nice to be able to show that more with you.

He loves you so much it’s consuming, it gets more and more intense every moment, every second that you breathe in his vicinity, every moment he gets to look at you. You sigh a bit, after a good half hour, and Satoru’s back is getting stiff, fuck you massaging it had felt so good. Things are so good with you it’s terrifying, how easy it is to be with you.

But the world has other ideas.

He doesn’t want to hide you, not hold your hand in public, sneak in your itty bitty apartment, as fun as it may be. He doesn’t want you living there, struggling, he wants to take care of you, fuck if you weren’t so passionate Satoru wouldn’t ever even have you work. He loves your talent too much though for that, the genius mind of yours, so open to him.

He wants to open up more to you, but something still terrifies him, his parents' rejections most of his life did a number, as cocky as he comes off it sometimes is just a show, to make up for it. One thing he’s self assured in though is law, the one thing his parents never wanted, no he needed to take over the family business, exploit people and pay them like shit.

But Satoru went his own way, and now they loved to tell him how disappointing he is, when he literally was the top criminal defense attorney there was. But no, nothing was good enough, but you make him feel good enough, don’t you? With every look and every touch, you make him feel like he’s doing good. How in just a few months have you become so precious?

He caresses your cheek, looking down after finally closing his laptop, you briefly open your eyes, long lashes fluttering, your eyes struggling to focus on him. You’re so cute when you sleep, it’s so different from the feisty thing you are when you’re awake. He smiles at you as you yawn, snuggling him closer.

“Let’s get to bed, yeah baby?” You nod, humming a bit and getting up, just for Satoru to snatch your body up in his arms. You smile sleepily at him, little hand coming up to brush his hair back. Fuck every time you do that you break him more and more.

“Sleepy, Toru.” He chuckles, carrying you to bed, watching you snatch his favorite pillow and wrap in the blankets.

He’ll let you use it.

“You know you’re the first girl to sleep in here?” He asks softly, figuring you’re asleep, but you turn to him curiously, eyes lidded and full lips parted.

“Am I really? How?”

“I never let anyone stay.”

“I’m special, Toru, hmm?” You tease, a little grin on your pretty face, and Satoru will do anything to keep it there. He snuggles with you, pulling your rounded ass against him with a groan, an arm around your waist. Fuck you feel so good in his arms, you do run hot but it’s perfect, he adores this feeling more than he’ll admit.

“You’re especially annoying.” You stick your tongue out, he chuckles, pecking a little kiss on your head, inhaling the sweet scent of you that he can never get out of his mind.

“You love me, shut it.”

“Of course I love you.” Your eyes glisten with tears. “Crybaby.”

“Mmm, shush.” You kiss him sweetly, he watches as the shadows in the room play along your delicate features. God you’re so beautiful. “Not even Suguru slept in here? I don’t believe that.”

Satoru grins then. “I mean the only woman. Of course I’ve cuddled with Sugu!”

“Cuddled, huh?”

“That’s what I call it.” You snort at that, shaking your head. “You are just thinking about us both here with you. Freaky girl.” You giggle a bit, shaking your head.

“I only want you, Toru. Ever.”

Your words stop his heart, slurred a bit as your yawn cuts them off, so genuine it makes him ache. His throat closes up as you do what no one has, making him feel like he’s the only person in the world for you. So special. He blinks back emotion and is glad your eyes are drifting and you don’t see the tears threatening to fall.

“I only want you, ever.” He says softly back, but you’re asleep again, you’re a sleepy little thing aren’t you?

Satoru sighs, pulling you close and laying there for a while, the trial in his mind, the worry there of his past mistakes, of putting you in some danger, but you ease it with his presence, enough that it’s not too long until he follows you into slumber.

*****

Two days later

Satoru and you sit in the courtroom together, and the man next to you both makes you shiver, Satoru’s wearing a perfectly tailored pinstripe suit, fitting his lithe body like a glove. His hair is falling soft and silky, a sleek skinny black tie adorning his starched collar, fuck he looks so good, you muse, as one of his hands squeezes your thigh, and he smiles at you.

“Are you doing okay, Miss Brat?” Satoru murmurs softly, and you nod, hand over his, thumb brushing against his knuckles like he enjoys, earning a sigh from his pretty lips.

“I’m excited to see you in action again, Professor Gojo.” You say softly, and he grins at that, teeth glinting under the fluorescent lights of the courtroom. Satoru’s fan group has gathered, even though you are hours away, they seem very devoted. “They want a wave I think.”

He rolls his eyes, then looks back at the fans, standing for a moment, you hold in a giggle as they gasp, bouncing up and down as he tugs at his pinstripe jacket, winking over to them, shooting two fingers in a salute. It would be corny if it was anyone else, but since it was Satoru Gojo, it was hot. You can’t lie.

You’d be a fan if you weren’t in his bed, surely.

“Oh my god!”

“Gojo!”

“Gojo is she your girlfriend!?”

At that you tense, because if your relationship got out it would fuck your college and career up so badly. You struggle to keep composed, as you know he has to say no, it’s what has to happen, but you know it’ll sting. Satoru laughs a bit at their question, throwing his head back.

“She’d turn me down.” He winks down at you, and you cover your face in embarrassment at the girls.

“No, no one could!”

“Gojo are you single!?”

“Gojo-”

“Ladies, ladies, calm down. The judge will yell at me.” Satoru pouts, looking far too charming, and the girls hush, with the promise of pictures later. Satoru sits back down, looking at you softly, his blue eyes so bright they’re hard to look at. “I hope I handled that right, I’m an idiot you know.”

“No, handled it perfectly.” You whisper, making him exhale. He was worried about your feelings, it touches you so deeply you get emotional.

“I wish…” He trails off, and you just smile a bit sadly.

“One day. Soon ish.” He sighs, and raises his hand as if to brush your hair back, quickly dropping it, but you could feel the caress regardless. Oh how you ache for this man.

“Yeah.” Is his only response, then the judge walks in, this one is different, she’s a little less stern looking, she has pretty flowing black hair.

“All rise, for the honorable Miss Inoue.” The bailiff says, and you feel the lack of Satoru’s hand on your thigh like a deep emptiness. Your hands barely touch, back to back, and you shut your eyes for a moment at it, before taking a breath and focusing. This was gonna be rough.

Satoru had to defend him, but you both were already gathering evidence to the contrary, to possibly charge him with another offense. It put Satoru in a horrible situation, and he’d barely slept, it had even been quiet in the drive here, you all had gotten ready in adjoining rooms, giving him a little silence. He didn’t want to hurt you but he did need some.

Your heart hurts for him, you wish he would share a little more of his feelings, but he tries to keep you in the loop, without actually revealing too much. You would take all of him, however, without hesitation, whether he wanted to be open or not, you would wait forever for him.

Tonight you all are going to the escort agency, to question an old informant of Satoru’s, and you both would learn more. But for now, he has to save face, and do the best job he can. You can’t imagine how hard it is, you can just feel it in his energy, but he turns on that charm like a flip of a switch.

“Court is in session. Let’s commence.” Miss Inoue says, and she lets the prosecution make their opening statement.

“This man here, Naoya Zen’in, is a rich playboy, has gotten everything he’s ever wanted handed to him on a silver spoon.” The lawyer starts, a stern man with a very good history from what you’ve researched. “But for once, a woman didn’t want him, so what does he do? He rapes, assaults, ends her life. This is what men do like him, men of power, to the powerless.”

Naoya was a blond, tall man with cold, sharp brown eyes, and a creepy grin that you suppose some women would fall for. He was handsome, you guess? But there is something about him that makes your fucking skin crawl. As they go on about him, he’s just laughing softly, leaned back against his chair casually, like this is all beneath him, a waste of time.

The handsome playboy in question smirks over at you, and he sends shivers through your spine, especially when his brown eyes look you up and down, winking. You tense, and Satoru looks at him with a glare, earning a bigger smirk, and you watch Satoru’s hands clench the bench so tightly they’re white. You gently touch Satoru’s arm, shaking your head, but he’s shaking damn near.

“Don’t fucking look at her, got me?” Satoru says in a hush, and the handsome (creepy) blonde just grins.

“Oh? Why not? She’s pretty to look at.” Satoru stands but thank goodness they call for the defense to make opening statements then, but you can tell he’s torn. You smile at him softly.

“I’m good, Satoru. Nothing’s gonna happen. Go kill it, yeah?” Satoru looks at you with his thin white brows drawn low, jaw clenched tightly, so tight you see a vein pop from under his fair skin. Then he looks back at his client.

“You won’t have eyes.” Satoru whispers, and your own widen at that, as he then grins, hands in his pockets, slinking over to the middle of the room. He’s smiling at the judge, who can’t help but smile in return. “Hello, lovely. I mean Judgy. Judge?”

The room laughs softly, aside from the prosecution of course, but Naoya seems to have his eyes fixed on you. You ignore him pointedly, focusing instead on taking notes, watching Satoru do what he does best, but there is an unspoken tension, as you feel the gaze still there.

“How long you been fucking each other?” He hisses, and you glare, furious, wanting to deck the mother fucker now.

“Why don’t you focus on the murder trial against you, and not my sex life, huh Mr. Zen’in?” You ask, and he laughs, leaning closer. Thank God Satoru is facing the jury, you feel there’s no way he wouldn’t punch this guy in the face if he saw.

“Your sex life highly interests me, I wonder how good of a whore you can be. Wonder if you’ve been shown.” His words are a bare whisper, but they terrify you, filling you with such nausea you could throw up right here. Your legs are trembling, and you barely keep it together.

“Go fuck yourself, Mr. Zen’in.” He grins, and you turn your attention away, focusing on Satoru now, waves of nausea rolling through you now.

Fuck you hate this dude and you just met him.

Satoru strides across the room, a picture of confidence, and stops in front of the jury now. “This man before you, Mr. Zen’in, is not a monster, but a human being with a heart that beats just like yours and mine. Maybe he is a rich playboy, maybe he does get everything he wants, but he’s not on trial for his lifestyle, but for a crime, that doesn’t have enough proof.”

“Objection!”

Satoru rolls his eyes, head leaning back, and the judge glares at prosecution. “Let Mr. Gojo speak. Mr. Gojo, please continue.”

Satoru smiles, bowing a bit at the waist, and you hear the courtroom swoon. There were more fans now!?

“Thank you, magnificent judge. Your reputation precedes you.” He winks at her, and she’s all pink, before clearing her throat. “Ah, so before I was so rudely interrupted…” Satoru pouts, cutely, earning the hearts of almost anyone. “This guy, yeah he’s kinda a douche…”

Naoya scowls next to you, fists clenched, and you hold in the giggle, but most of the people in the court room fail.

“But just because he’s a pretentious dick, it doesn’t mean he’s a murderer, or a rapist. Surely, he has no issue paying for sex when he needs it.” Satoru looks over to Naoya with his icy blue eyes and snarky grin. You thrill on Satoru in his damn element, in him riling everyone up.

Fuck you love him.

“ I will argue, this playboy has been grossly misunderstood. Let us not be swayed by sensationalism and assumptions, but by the cold, hard facts. And when we do, I believe you will find... lovely members of the jury,” Satoru winks at them, and even the men swoon, “As I have, that there is more to this story than meets the eye.”

Satoru turns then, flashing you a grin that makes your knees knock together, fuck he’s gorgeous, isn’t he? With every eye on the room invested in his every word, every breath, every movement, slinking like the damn cat he is, his dress shoes glinting from the high polish. He tugs at his jacket a bit, loosening a couple of buttons, revealing the starch dress shirt underneath.

“Oh my god-”

“Ladies!” The judge has to calm down the girls, and you do smile then, looking back to see the mess he’s created. Satoru grins.

“So sorry, Judge, I’m afraid my loyal fans can be a little… enthusiastic.”

“No worries, Mr. Gojo. Please continue.” The judge smiles at Satoru, her chin in her hand like she’s in class. You just shake your head a bit at everything, god Satoru really was something else.

“Thank you, Miss Inoue. So… dear jury.” He earns their undivided attention. “Let me show you the truth, don’t worry, I’ll take care of you all.” He winks, and then the prosecution loses it again. “Ah, they’re being so mean! Well, we’ll speak soon, don’t worry. The defense rests its opening statement in the firm belief that we will uncover the truth together.”

Then he’s back next to you, between you and the asshole Naoya, scooching close and leaning to whisper in your ear.

“Did he say anything baby girl?” He asks, and you sigh.

“We’ll talk later, Toru.” He looks at you with concern now, brows knitted, but you just shake your head, as the defense calls their first witness.

“We’d like to call a witness, Mr. Rin to the stand.”

And so the trial begins, and you and Satoru sit, tensely for hours on end, in the gloomy courtroom, as the prosecution questions their witness, and you can feel the gears shifting in Satoru’s head as he pops a piece of candy in his mouth. He hands you on discreetly, and you smile, opening the crinkly wrapper and sucking the little mint into your mouth.

“You’ve got this, yeah?” He nods, smiling a bit, but you could see the toll, as someone possibly guilty sits next to you both.

How does Satoru handle this one?

“We got this, Miss Brat. No worries.” His hand holds yours under the table, and you sigh at how good the little touch feels.

The prosecution finishes with their witness now. “Would you like to Cross examine the witness, Gojo. I mean Mr. Gojo!” Gojo chuckles at the judge, standing as you do, to let him out of the bench, and then he saunters up to the young lady, and you feel his hesitation.

“Hello there, how are you?” He asks gently, to the young lady sitting there nervously at the stand. She sighs.

“I’ve been better?”

“Yeah, courtrooms suck, huh?” Everyone is either laughing or gasping, and the witness smiles a bit.

“They really do.”

“I know, even I get so bored, ugh.” He leans his head back, grimacing then, and you barely hold in your laugh, it’s impossible, he’s so infectious. “But listen, let’s push through it, I’m just gonna ask you a few questions.”

Satoru starts his questioning then, and you notice it’s different, he’s not hitting as hard as he normally would, because he doesn’t even think Naoya is innocent, fuck Naoya could have been doing this. Yet he’s also not going to let this just go, he has to defend him, you have no clue how he’s keeping his cool, not when the man next to you looks so fucking smug.

As Satoru paces, he tosses out questions. "Could it be that the prosecution is more interested in a swift conviction than in the actual facts of the case?" He asks to the jury, his voice rising just enough to make it sound like a challenge.

“Objection!”

“Sustained, Mr. Gojo, could you please reline the question?” The judge says sweetly, and Satoru smiles.

“Sure, judge, could it be that there are others who stand to gain from my client's downfall?"

The witness sighs. “I don’t know if I can answer that.”

“That’s okay, let me explain to you. My client," he says, turning to gesture at Naoya, "is a young man with a lot of money, and clearly getting eyed by a lot of people who want a piece of it. Would you agree?”

“Um… I guess so, some people like that.”

“Did you like his money?” The courtroom gasps, and the girl is bright red, looking down.

Fuck this disgusts you.

You know Satoru would like to call him disgusting and to fuck off, but here he was, having to do his best.

“The money is fine, but he’s a freak.”

“Oh, freaky huh? What’s wrong with that? Whips and chains-”

“Objection!”

The judge is intrigued though. “No, overruled. Continue.”

“Ah, thank you. Listen, what’s wrong with being freaky, in consesnual acts? Are you saying that equates assault? Some smacks on the ass?” The court room is in a tizzy, and you find yourself flushing.

“Well… no. Not necessarily…”

“Exactly!” Satoru chuckles, throwing his head back, and the prosecutor, visibly rattled, tries to interject again, but Satoru waves him off with a casual flick of his wrist. "Let's not forget, kink shaming is bad.”

“Mr. Gojo!” The prosecution is so angry, and the judge sighs.

“Mr. Gojo… is there a point to this?” She asks, and Gojo nods.

“There sure is, forgive me, I got a little… flustered.” He has the audacity to look innocent and cute!

Fucking Gojo.

He’s brilliant.

They’re putty in his big hands.

“My questions are almost over, love. Can you take one more?” He asks the witness softly, and she nods eagerly. “Perfect. What a good… witness.”

You hear his fans swoon, and people behind you giggle. The witness is entranced, and you’re just amazed at this shitshow, and how well Satoru runs this all so fucking well. He butters the girl up to say anything, it was as if he didn’t even really have to try, but he was trying, you could feel it, to not go too far.

“This may be the first case I lose. On purpose, if we can’t find anything on this fucker.” Satoru had said earlier, as you all drove into court, and you hold his hand that’s on your thigh, sighing.

“I know, Satoru. We’ll figure it out together.” He yanked your hand, kissing it, warm lips pressed on your trembling hand.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“The defense rests on its questioning.” Satoru says then, and soon he’s back next to you, and court eventually ends for the day.

You let out a shaky breath as Satoru walks up to the defense team, conferring with them, then all teams approach the bench to speak with the judge, and Nouya comes up close to you. You cringe internally, but outwardly you steel yourself, putting a blank expression on your face as he grins, eyes lowering to your breasts, downwards, and it feels so disgusting you struggle not to smack him for it.

“I see why he keeps you around, a shame women just aren’t fucking smart, isn’t it? But useful I suppose.” He acts casual, hands in his pockets, your fingers itch to smack him so badly you grip your books tight to you.

“Yeah, you’re real smart, ended up here and all. Me? Just aced every test and in a top law school. Without ‘daddy’s money’ too.” Your lips upturn just a bit, as you watch his stupid grin turn into a glare.

“I’d teach you a fuckin lesson, little slut, right on that pretty face of yours.” You glare, and just then Satoru is back, and he’s pulling you behind him, crossing his arms and leaning forward, his eyes are a storm of icy blue, his face furious like you’ve never seen.

“I’ll lose this case so quick, swear to fucking god. Don’t think for two seconds you’re good enough to breathe her air, got it?” He says it softly, calmly, looming over him, even though he was tall, Satoru is even taller, and you watch him back up just a step, fear in his features.

“You won’t lose, you never lose. It’s why we chose you.”

We?

Your mind runs rampant, you know the Zen’in are some of the richest people there are, and powerful. Satoru’s own family had run businesses with them, you’d found that out on accident. You tried to not pry, as you didn’t need to know what Satoru didn’t want you to, yet, but it was…

Frightening.

Did Satoru’s family…

“Let’s go.” Satoru shakes you out of your thoughts, and you realize you’ve just been standing there, you sigh, nodding and following him out. He doesn’t give his fans attention this time, he’s raging inside and you can see it, you can feel it, when you both are in the car and he’s punching the steering wheel with his fists.

“Toru, it’s okay! Promise.” You whisper, and he covers his face then, shaking his head, making you hurt for him, as you gently touch his shoulder. “Toru…”

“How can I even keep you safe if this fucker wants to-”

“I can handle myself, Toru, I’m tough you know.”

His eyes break your heart, filled with emotion as he gulps. “ Baby girl if anything happens to you… I swear-”

“Toru.” You stop him again, hands cupping his face, and he’s so tense you feel it through the air of the little car. “It’s gonna be okay. We will do this together, I will help you, I swear.”

“I can’t believe I couldn’t just beat the fuck out of him. What did he even say? All I saw was him near you whispering.” You blink then, looking down. “No, no you better tell me, I have to know what we’re dealing with.”

You take a shaky breath, sighing then. “He said I was going to learn a lesson, on my ‘pretty face’. Called me a slut, a whore. Said he’d have fun with me. Satoru!”

He’s out of the car in an instant, and you hop out to chase after him, as he’s stalking his way up the courtroom stairs. Most of the people are gone for the day, but who walks down buy Naoya himself, ankle monitor on his expensive pant leg, staring at his watch, until Satoru is right in front of him. He’s looking batshit insane, and frankly you’re fucking terrified.

“Satoru…” You murmur, coming up to touch him, and Naoya is smirking at the two of you.

“Something wrong, Gojo?”

“Need a word with you.” Satoru shoves him into a concrete pillar, and Naoya is furious, scowling back at him.

“The fuck?”

“Say anything like that again I’ll break your fucking jaw. Got it?” He demands, and Naoya actually just laughs, it’s dark and sinister. “I know who the fuck you are.”

“Oh do you, now? What’s it matter, huh? Worried about your pretty little-” Satoru punches him then, quietly and so quickly surely no one would know but you three, right in the stomach. Naoya hunches over, but he’s grinning.

“Don’t touch her, I swear to god, there’ll be nothing left to find.” Satoru whispers, and then he looks back at you, at your wide eyes, and he takes you by the hand, easing you away from the laughing man.

“See ya tomorrow, Gojo… doll.” He smirks at you and Satoru nearly punches him again, if not for you gently taking his hand.

“It’s fine, Toru, he’s not worth it.” Satoru’s eyes drink you in, and he leans close, your breath mingling.

“I’ll fucking kill him. You gonna get me off death row?” You feel his anger, his rage even under the joke.

“I’ll be the best attorney ever. I’ll show you how good I’ll be when we get back, yeah?” He stiffly walks away, and then you all are silently driving back home, your arm wrapped around his arm, snuggled close to his strong shoulder.

“I’ll wreck this mother fucker.” He mutters, as he’s driving, you feel all of his muscles so tense against you, his veins popping up around his wrists and hands at how tight he’s gripping the steering wheel.

“We’ll wreck him. Together. Yeah?”

“It took everything not to fucking kill him. Everything.”

“I know.”

Once you’re back at the hotel, you expect him to maybe want time alone, but he’s on you then, kissing you passionately, deeply, your teeth click as he’s yanking you up so close. You can barely breathe, so intense you can’t even take it, lost in him, as his hands are shaking, and you feel his body tremble, you eagerly slide his jacket off him, hands running down his body.

“You’re mine.” He says, through his teeth, his voice is hoarse and his eyes are wild, and you cup his face.

“You’re mine.” He’s moaning, then he turns you, roughly, unzipping the black dress you wore, and the cool air of the hotel room hits your skin. Satoru hungrily kisses down your neck, your shoulders, as his hands wrap around your waist, and your head tilts to the side, for him to have more access to you. “Satoru…”

“I love your body. I love how you feel. I love how you taste.” His husky words are accompanied by fervent kisses, and you melt in his arms, goosebumps everywhere he trails his lips upon. “I’ll kill anyone that touches you.”

“Satoru… don’t say that.” You whisper, but then he’s spun you around, and you’re shaking as you look up at him, at his serious face, so gorgeous and intense that you can’t think of anything else.

“I mean it. I’m sorry if it’s fucking intense, but I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t lose me, I’m yours. I love you.” He moans softly, and as he’s kissing you again, you’re unbuttoning his dress shirt, revealing his perfect hard body, running your fingers down his torso, feeling the hot skin, the hard planes of his body, then your’s unbuckling his belt, and watch his eyes dilate, his lips part. “Let me make you feel good, Toru.”

“Fuck…” Is all he bites out, as his sexy moans urge you on, he steps out of his pants and you sink to your knees on the plush carpet beneath you, licking your lips as he frees his cock, slapping against his belly button, and you hungrily take him into your mouth, eyes meeting his.

“You did so good today, Toru.” You murmur, licking the salty precum from his tip, and he huffs, leaning back against the cream hotel wall, hands undoing your bun, letting your hair flow.

“You’re so fucking perfect, baby girl.” He murmurs, before moaning, throwing his head back and enwrapping his hand in your hair, starting to fuck your throat with his thick length, choking you in the most delicious way. Your hands grip his strong, muscled thighs, as he pumps his cock deeper, until there are tears in your eyes. “Oh my god, baby…”

“Mmm…” You just moan, sucking him, your cheeks hollowing out, and he’s looking down at you, pupils blown out, and you feel the tension releasing as you pump your hands up and down his length.

“Play with that perfect pussy, baby, get ready for me.” He whispers, and you dip a hand down, feeling yourself slick and hot, crying out around his length, he grips you tighter, groaning. “That’s it, good girl. Good girl.”

You’re crying out now, clit puffy and twitching under your delicate touch, in little circles, so slippery your hand slides off. Satoru’s got your face cupped in his hands, as he pumps his hips, and you’re shaking with need, grinding against your hand hopelessly, craving more friction.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Fuck.” He pulls back then, and you let him go with a pop sound of your lips, and he’s swiping the saliva and precum off your chin. “Need you, need you now baby.”

You stand on wobbly legs, then Satoru’s sliding two fingers in your eager entry, as you wrap a leg around his, and he’s holding you around your waist, slamming his lips down on yours. You’re both a mess of teeth, tongues and lips, you swallow his groans and he drinks your sighs, as he’s hitting that spot so good you can’t take it.

“Please, please, please.” You whisper out, as you gasp with pleasure, and he’s spun you then, pressing you face down on the bed, so tall he has to lift your hips up, and then he’s over you, one hand guiding his cock between your lips, and you’re arching back for more.

“Perfect pussy. Perfect mouth. Perfect body.” He gruffly says those words, one hand wraps around your throat as he bends over, sliding his cock all the way in one thrust, and you scream out loud at it. “You’re mine.”

“Yours, Toru. Yours.” He’s gripping your throat tight, starting to fuck into you, and you hear how wet you are, squishing and slapping sounds in the suite, mixed with his labored breaths and your whimpers. “Ngh, s’good f-fuck!”

“Taking me so good, baby girl.” Satoru’s cock wrecks you now, fucking you harder and harder, slamming against your cervix until you feel yourself close, head falling back as his hand squeezes gently. “Made for me. Aren’t you?”

“Y-yes. Yes.” You can’t stop the moans, the cries, and then you feel the pressure burst, and pleasure washes over you in waves, as he claims you his, as he’s fucking you senseless. You don’t even remember where you are, all you know is Satoru Gojo’s cock is pounding your little pussy, and you’re shattering around it.

“Yes, cum for me… such a good girl, aren’t you?” You can’t take it, you’re too sensitive, and he’s squeezing your throat, making everything fuzzy, hazy, and you’ve cum so hard you’re soaked, dripping down the blanket, down your inner thighs, and he’s slipping easier and easier. “You’re so wet for me, so easy, huh?”

“Easy for you, Toru. You.” His big hands move you then, scooching you over the bed and laying on top of you, prone position, you feel the sweat dripping off his chest as he takes you, taking your hands and entwining them with his, planting sloppy, hot kisses along your shoulder blades. “Oh my… mnh… Love you, love you.”

“I fucking love you baby. You’re all mine. Aren’t you?” You nod, and he’s kissing up your neck now, as he’s slowing, grinding that leaking tip against your cervix until you’re cumming again, and he has to pause it feels so good, resting his head against the crook of your neck.

“You feel too good, too good. Can’t take it.” You whine out, as he’s rolling his hips, feeling your walls tighten around his cock, soaking him even more as wetness gushes from your little hole. “Toru, kiss me. Please.”

He takes your chin in a hand, as the other stays entwined with yours, and he’s drinking all your cries now, with a desperate, sloppy kiss. “Want me to cum in this pussy, paint your insides?”

“Yes. Please, please. Please, Toru. Ah!” He’s cumming right then, as you beg him, filling you up and pushing you over the brink, breathless, blinded, consumed by him.

“Fuck- perfect- so… ah… fuck…” He’s grunting, no sensible words, and you’re lost, seeing black and glitter, as Satoru consumes your soul. He eases now, kissing your sweaty back, running a hand down your spine, and you mewl weakly. “Baby…”

“Mmm… yeah? What is it, Toru?” You blink a bit, and you meet his eyes, pussy drunk off you but something is intense, even more than usual.

“I’ll never let anyone touch you. Got it?” You nod, planting a kiss on his lips, which soften under your caress. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“I know, Toru. I know.” He exhales, laying his heavy weight on you, but you love it, you love feeling him, feeling the aftershocks make both of you twitch, a sweaty mess of tangled limbs.

“I want to kill him.” You tense then, peeking back at him.

“Toru we’ll do this. We’ll get justice. I promise. We won’t have to…”

“I want to though. If he looks at you again? I…”

“We’ll get him.” He moans, kissing you again, and then he’s pushing deep inside you, where his cum was pouring out the length, but he’s still rock hard inside you. “Toru, again?”

“Again.”

Chapter 10

ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56895382/chapters/149180743

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #satoru x reader #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk gojo #madamechrissy #take me home tonight

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

Text

Code of Conduct 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss has a difficult time keeping his personal life from bleeding into his work.

Characters: Steve Rogers, this reader is known as Rosie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

“Are you sure you want to keep working?” You ask Mr. Rogers as you bring in the printed report he requested.

“Yeah, can’t really go home...” he mutters as he takes the report with a brittle smile.

“I guess, but you could... take some time for yourself. I can call your one o’clock,” you offer.

“Rosie, you’re wonderful. But I need the distraction.”

“Okay, I—can I get you anything? A tea? When I feel down, I have this lavender chamomile in my desk that helps me feel better.”

He looks at you, his blue eyes sparkling. You really can’t handle him crying. His eyes are already pink and puffy from the tears he hid in his closed office.

“You’re so sweet,” he sniffs.

“Look that over and I’ll steep the tea,” you insist.

You leave him before your ingrained sympathy can have you joining his pity party. You feel awful for him but lost too. You’re not sure how to handle all this. Relationships have always been a bit of a mystery to you. You have lot of friends but never found anyone to be more than.

You take your time in the break room. You smell like vinaigrette. It’s another reminder of the chaotic morning. The kettle pops and you pour the water over the tea bag. You bob it up and down with the string and make your way back to Mr. Roger’s office.

He thanks you as you set it down and warn him it’s hot. He runs his thumb up and down the edge of a page then looks up at you.

“Anything else, sir?”

“You... you said you feel down sometimes?” He asks.

“Oh, well, yeah, but everyone does.”

“But... about what? Why would you feel down?” He lowers the stapled papers onto the desk.

“Just... things, sir. Nothing big. It’s just the way people are.”

“You-- you have everything, Rosie. You’re so bright and bubbly. What could make you sad?” He pivots his chair towards you. “Who do I gotta give a talking to around here?”

“No one, sir. Really. I guess I just need a pick-me-up from time to time.”

He nods and looks down. You hover on the other side of his desk. You should get back to work but you don’t know if you should leave him.

“I get lonely too.” He lifts his chin up. “Even when Peggy’s right next to me. I get it.”

“Sir?”

“You said you’re not married, right? I—I'm sorry if I assumed--” he cringes. “Wow, I’m so embarrassing.”

“It’s... it’s fine. I have friends and we have lots of fun. My friend Missie, she’s really cool. She lies to tie-dye. We do that sometimes. And you,” you perk up, “you have Mr. Barnes, right? He told me that you twohave known each other forever.”

“He told you that?” Rogers tilts his head.

“Well, sure, he’s a bit chatty when he stops by.”

“He is?” A brow arches curiously and ripples his forehead. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re so easy to talk to. Even with someone like him.”

“Erm, I guess. I just try to see the positive. You know. Um, I don’t mean to presume because I can’t begin to know but I know Peggy loves you. And you have a good job and you can fix this, Mr. Rogers. You could try counselling or I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t know much,” you shrug.

“We did counselling,” he picks up the mug and blows the steam away, inhaling the scent. “She stormed out of that too. We’ve tried a lot of things. A second honeymoon, a vow renewal, everything.” He looks down and his shoulders slump. He looks tiny even though he’s a big man.

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“You didn’t,” he inhales and pushes his shoulders straight. “You’re right, I can do something. I can put myself first. I think... I think I need to look into leaving.”

You blink. You’re speechless. It feels like too much. Not his suggestion, just that he’s saying it to you. You’re fine getting him coffee and sorting his schedule but you haven’t been trained for this.

“You should do what’s best for you, sir.”

He nods and tastes the tea. “It’s good, Rose,” He sets the cup down. “Thanks. You’re... you’re too good to me.”

“It’s just tea. I’ll let you enjoy it in peace and I gotta get back to it.” You smile. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Will do,” he utters glumly.

You slowly turn away and stride out. You feel a tugging in your stomach. Like guilt. You feel bad leaving him like that. Yet, you don’t know what else you can do for him. Missie would know. She always knows how to make things better. Maybe you could ask her but it’s a long story.

Hm.

You take out your phone and open up the conversation. You giggle at the kitten pictures she sent you last night. It takes several attempts to get it right; ‘hey, Miss, what would you do for someone going through a break-up? Tryna do something nice. Thx <3’

You’re sure she’ll come up with something, even without all the details. You tuck your phone away and turn back to your screen. As you do, an email pings into Mr. Rogers’ inbox.

You click on it and open the attachment. The legal letterhead has your blood cold. Before you can react, you hear Mr. Rogers exclaim.

Oh no, he’s already seen it. Divorce papers.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #series #drabble #au #bad bosses #captain america #mcu #marvel #avengers #code of conduct

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cayleeuhithinknot · 1 month

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❛ 𝑺𝑴𝑶𝑲𝑬𝑫 𝑭𝑼𝑪𝑲𝑬𝑫 𝑨𝑾𝑨𝒀 𝑴𝒀 𝑩𝑹𝑨𝑰𝑵 ❜

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉. . .you hit up your dealer to get your mind off of your shitty day. but, he has another idea to make you forget.

cw: SMUT, dealer!chris, mentions of smoking, praising, use of pet names and y/n, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, not proofread. . .(im sorry)

requested here by anon: 🤍!

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛--ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛-

your day today was absolutely unfathomable. it all started this morning. your curly hair was just not cooperating with you. random pieces curled in a different way than others, and some had straightened themselves out over night. on top of that, it was incredibly frizzy no matter what you did. so, you just pulled it back and got into your car for work.

you worked in a family owned bakery down town, which was usually pretty relaxed. but today? no. on your way to work, of course, you made a right turn and heard an odd hissing noise outside of your car.

you pull over in a random church parking lot and hop out of your car, walking over to the right side. surprise surprise, you had a flat tire. “are you fucking kidding me..?” you mumble to yourself, walking back over to the driver’s side to grab your phone. but, of course, you had to stub your toe on the tire.

calling the mechanic and asking for just a quick pump of air was a disaster as well. your dad is good friends with the local mechanic, who usually gives you no problems and even gives discounts. but, it seemed today he was just having a bad day. you sat in the smoldering heat of your car, which wasn’t even on or blowing air conditioning, because you’d ran out of gas and you didn’t want to drain the car battery.

the mechanic finally arrived, luckily having a can of gas in his truck. he got to work, filling your tire back up and feeding the gasoline to your car. but then, he told you what the fee would be. you felt like curling up right there on that dirty pavement, but obviously you didn’t. you just agreed to pay it before the deadline and got back into your car with a sigh.

work was fine. for the most part. your shift was from 7am to 5pm, a couple breaks in between. but, you usually stay until around 9 after you clock out just to help out your dad. at around 1:30, 10 minutes after you got back to work after your lunch break, a lady with 2 kids walks in. the woman seemed to be about 40 and both of her kids were definitely below 10.

“hi, i need two bear claws and a danish.” the lady demands. obviously, you’re taken aback by her tone. this lady didn’t even specify what kind of pastry she wanted. “uhm, okay! what kind of bear claw and danish?” you ask kindly, your customer service voice making an evident appearance. “i just want two bear claws and a danish. your job really isn’t that hard,” she pauses to narrow her eyes at your nametag, slightly adjusting her glasses. “y/n.”

you close your eyes, taking a deep breath and then opening your eyes just to see the lady’s face again. great. this wasn’t a nightmare. “ma’am, do you understand what i’m asking?” you ask, trying to keep your voice calm and steady. the woman sneers at you. “don’t call me ma’am, it makes me feel old! and i just want two bear claws and a danish, damnit!”

your eyes widen at her demeanor change. you glance over at her children, who are arguing loudly—annoyingly. you finally realize you’re gonna have to spell it out for her. “miss, we have apple cinnamon bear claws as well as almond butter bear claws. as for the danishes, we have cream cheese and strawberry cream cheese flavors. which would you like?” you ask, giving her a tight-lipped smile.

“obviously, i want the apple cinnamon and cream cheese! god, you young people are so clueless.” she shrieks. you flinch slightly at the annoyingly loud sound of her annoying voice. you nod slowly, grabbing a brown paper bag from the counter behind you. you stuff the contents of her order with tongs into the bag carelessly. gripping the bag, you ask yet another question, ready for this lady to take her ass on out the door. “$7.89, cash or card?”

“card, obviously. do i look like the type of person to be paying with cash?” the lady rolls her eyes, whipping her card out of her red wallet, waving it in her face. you rip the card from her hands, swiping it. it approves, and you place the card on the counter, pushing the paper bag across the counter to her. “have a nice day.” you mumble, and the woman just glares at you as she exits the store.

to top off your day, when you got home, you accidentally knocked one of your favorite perfume bottles off of the counter, smashing it and causing it’s contents to ooze across the tile floor. you curse yourself, cleaning up the glass and the scented liquid. you open your nightstand drawer, fully ready to go on your back porch to smoke. only to realize, you were out of literally everything.

now, you were gonna have to call your plug and ask for more. he’s gonna think you’re crazy asking for shit at only 10pm. you plop yourself down onto your bed, pulling your phone out of your pocket. opening the contacts app, you take a deep breath, trying to ground yourself. the phone rings a couple of times before he finally picks up.

“hello?” chris speaks. it was clear he wasn’t fully..sober at the moment. “uhm, hey,” you greet. things were casual between you two. or, they were supposed to be. there was obvious tension, but neither of you ever addressed it of course. “oh, hey angel. what’s up?” chris asks, and you can practically hear his lousy grin. angel. he’s always called you that. which was weird, because you were definitely no angel.

“can you bring some shit over? you don’t have to stay, i’ve just had such a long—“

“of course, angel. be there in 15.” was all you heard from the other line before the call ended. well, at least you were getting what you wanted.

30 minutes later, there’s a knock on your front door. fifteen minutes my ass, you thought. you scramble over to the door, ripping it open. you’re met with chris’ face. his red eyes, his tired expression. yeah, he was definitely high. you gesture to the open room behind you and he steps inside. chris nods, dropping the bag into your hands. it feels…oddly light.

“chris, how much did you bring? this is so light,” you question skeptically. chris just stuffs his hands in his pockets. you open the bag. it’s completely empty. “really? what was the point of even coming if you’re not gonna bring anything?”

“y’know, there’s like..other ways..” he mumbles. you cock an eyebrow at his words. “what?”

“like..other ways to get the same effect being high gives you. other ways to make you forget for a little.” he explains, shrugging like it was obvious. you didn’t like how cryptic he was being.

“what are you talking about?”

“sex.”

your eyes widen at the change in his demeanor. “what..?” you mutter. chris scratches the back of his neck. “sorry..i shouldn’t have said that. i—i know you don’t want to do that, im sorry, fuck-“

“chris,” you chuckle slightly. in all honesty, you were glad he’d finally said something. the tension had been gnawing at you for..well, a while now. “it’s okay. you’re completely wrong.”

chris tilts his head to the side like a confused puppy. “wrong? wrong about what?”

“about me not wanting to do that,” you mumble. chris’ eyes widen. “w—wait, really?”

“yes, chris.”

“h-holy shit, angel..” chris stammers, his pants already seeming to grow tighter. “well then..you tryin’ to relieve some stress?” he asks, his usual cocky grin starting to paint over his face. “absolutely.”

at your words, chris immediately grabs your arm and pulls you toward your bedroom. of course he’d memorized where your bedroom is even after only being to your house a couple of times. words couldn’t describe how much he’d wanted this. yeah, you liked him—a lot, but he craved it more than you ever knew he could.

reaching your bedroom, chris pushed the door shut and pushed you down onto the bed. he wasted no time crawling on top of you, pinning you down. “you’re bold today, aren’t y—“ you start, but you’re cut off by chris smashing his lips into yours. this wasn’t like any kiss you’d ever had. it was full of fire, passion, desire.

you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you. chris slipped his tongue into your mouth, running it along the roof of your mouth. you weren’t exactly sure how long the makeout had lasted; you were so caught up in the moment.

chris captured your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled away, slightly grinning. he dips his head down to your collarbone, placing open, wet kisses along them. he slides off your baggy crop top, admiring the sight of your chest, as you weren’t wearing a bra. “so pretty, baby.”

chris massages your tits, leaning forward to take one of your nipples into his mouth. he sucks on it, rolling the other one between his fingers, making you shiver and squirm. his actions cause a moan to slip from your lips, arching into his touch. chris chuckles, pushing your stomach back down onto the bed.

he trails sloppy kisses down your chest and stomach, eventually reaching your clothed pussy. he kisses over it softly. “can i take these off?”

you nod frantically, eliciting a chuckle to escape from his throat. he pulls off your shorts and panties at the same time, dropping them on the floor beside your bed. he stared at your glistening folds in absolute awe. he leans closer, the heat radiating off of you and onto his face. “you’re sure you want this?”

“yes, chris. please.”

“as you wish, angel.” chris mumbles with a grin, breaking the eye contact to run his tongue up your slit. you immediately arch into him, but he pushes you back down again, making you groan. his tongue circles over your clit, applying an unimaginably pleasurable pressure. he hooks his arms around thighs, spreading them further.

he brings his tongue down to tease your entrance before plunging it in as far as he can. you let out a whiny moan, something you’d never done. it was becoming clear to the both of you that chris could make you feel things nobody else could. his grip on your thighs tightened as he licked and sucked. it was as if he was on death row and this was his final meal.

“chris, i..” you’re barely able to vocalize that you’re extremely close already, the knot in your stomach tightening by the second. “hm? what is it, angel?” chris mumbles against your pussy, his breath sending shockwaves through your body.

“..’m close, chris” you whimper as he pushes his tongue back into you, releasing a hand from your thigh to let his thumb rub circles on your clit. you let out an almost pornographic moan at the motion. the string is about to snap, fraying at the edges. you were so close, but you wanted to savior the moment, so you were pushing it away.

“stop fighting it, angel. let go f’me.”

he didn’t have to tell you twice. at his words, you finally allow yourself to stop holding on, absolutely letting yourself go. you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your shakily loud moans. chris grabs your wrist, pulling your hand away from your mouth. you finally come down from your high, shaking. “we’re not done, angel.” chris chuckles.

chris pulls off his jean shorts, along with his boxers. your eyes widen at the sight of his cock. you’d never seen anything like it. you weren’t sure you’d be able to take half of it. “i—chris, i can’t.”

“yes you can, angel. i’m right here to help you.” chris assures softly. he pumps himself a couple times. “see how hard you got me?”

he hovers over you and you grip his biceps. he lines himself up with your leaking pussy. “you ready?” he asks, more of a groan of impatience. you nod, squeezing your eyes shut. “angel, it’s fine.” chris chuckles.

he slowly pushes his tip into you, hissing at how tight you are. “chris, i can’t!” you whine. “that’s just the tip, angel. you can squeeze me as much as you need. if you really really need me to stop, just tell me.”

you nod slowly, sighing in nervousness. he pushes in further, the burning stretch gnawing at you. once chris can you’re ready to continue, he pushes in further. eventually, he’s finally able to bottom out. “you okay?”

again, you nod. “pl-please start moving..” you plead. sure, you were nervous at first. sure, it hurt. but, it hurt so good. chris nods, slowly starting to thrust in and out of you, never taking his eyes off of your face. “y’look so beautiful takin’ me like this.”

he starts to pick up the pace, causing you to let out moans, whines, whimpers, literally any noise anyone could think of. chris’ groans and pants only turned you on more. you start to clench around him, feeling your stomach tighten once again. and once his thrusts started to get a little sloppy, you knew he was just as close as you were.

chris peppered kisses over your face and neck, slowing his thrusts slightly. “where should i cum, angel?”

“uhm—in..inside..” you mumble, barely able to form words at this point. “you sure?” he asks, a little nervous. “very sure!”

chris nods, his arms starting to weaken beneath him as he tried his hardest to give you rougher thrusts. “c—cumming!” is all you manage to get out as you come undone on his cock. “me too, angel, me too. did so good for me.” he murmurs against your neck. his hot, white cum paints your gummy walls as you both pant.

chris pulls out of you and plops down next to you on the bed, laying on his back. he pulls you on top of his chest, wrapping his arms around your warm body.

“think you still need a smoke?”

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛--ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛-

a/n: hi hi!! i hope you guys enjoyed this!! i still have a long way to go on my smut writing skills LMAO but i try my best😭 but yeah i know this was uploaded a little…late…but it’s okay😛

tags: @sturn-saturn @xysbree @emely9274 @sturniolos4life16 @pearlzier

#Spotify #cayleeuhithinknot #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #smut #dealer #dealer!chris #chris x reader #nick sturniolo #send asks #send requests

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 8 months

Text

DRABBLE: THEY’RE YOUR BLIND V-DAY DATE ❤️🍷💕 (CROSSOVER ANIME) (18+) (For Black!Fem!Readers)

Writer’s Note: Got another something for V-Day for y’all. I decided to do one for multiple anime characters cuz I’m a slut for all them 2D characters & couldn’t decide on one specific show lol. Plus it sounded fun! And important disclaimers I’ll just make a note of before the actual Drabble. I hope y’all enjoy! ☺️🥰 -Jazz

********

LEVI ACKERMAN (AOT)

The first night, you’re nervous, to say the least, especially when Hange warns you about his appearance.

“Why?” you had asked over margaritas and tacos, already perplexed and slightly unnerved by her warning. “Is he really ugly or something?”

Hange, sitting across from you in her glasses with her locks of long, chestnut brown hair cascading down her shoulders, shook her head. “No, no, my dear!” she immediately protested. “He’s actually quite handsome despite the broody thing. But he does have some scars from a mission gone wrong at his job and he’s blind in one eye.”

She took a sip of her margarita as if to soften the next blow. “And he’s missing a leg,” she finished.

You were taken aback, to say the least, but you didn’t let that stop you. You aren’t prejudiced and you refused to let that stop you from at least giving Hange’s friend a chance.

Apparently, Levi has been a firefighter for a couple of years and has recently broken up with a longtime girlfriend, so Hange figured he could get back into the dating pool and realize that there are great girls out there starting with you!

So the weekend of Valentine’s Day, Hange texts you the name of the restaurant and you take an Uber there after spending the entire day doing your hair, picking out an outfit, and giving yourself a makeover. You decided on a soft glam look as this is the first time you’re meeting the guy and a pretty, red dress that hugs your frame and zips in the back.

When you get out of the Uber in front of the quaint and low-key yet romantic restaurant, you take a table near the door so it’ll be easier to see Levi walk in and flag him down. You still have no idea what he looks like, only that he’ll be wearing a black trench coat, he’s kinda short, and he has a large scar going over his eye.

“His team calls him Scar, apparently,” Hange laughed. “It helps that he has a smooth, deep voice too!”

You admit that you were curious to see him and hear that “smooth, deep” voice she told you about. So you sit and order a glass of wine, waiting for his arrival as you stare out at the passing cars and people…only he never comes.

You wait and you wait and you wait, but he never shows his face. You call Hange, thinking maybe you have the wrong restaurant or time or day, but all is correct. You think that maybe he’s in traffic or something came up, but Hange never calls to tell you either.

When your appetizer comes and the candle sitting in the middle of the table begins to melt, you feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach. You’ve been stood up.

The realization hits you like a brick to the face. Quickly, you order the check and a box for your food and pay the waiter before running out of the restaurant in tears. You feel stupid. Wasteful. Foolish in your pretty dress and heels.

Hange comes over to see you with the quickness when you tell her that night, ice cream and face masks in tow. “I can’t believe him!” she says, enraged, with a sheet mask on her face. “He told me he’d be there and then he doesn’t show up? Who does he think he is? Why, I’m gonna give that man a piece of my–“

“Don’t Hange,” you sigh, shoveling another spoonful of ice cream into your mouth. “Just leave it be. He probably just changed his mind or wasn’t ready.”

You are ready to move on and forget it, but the universe doesn’t let you. A week later while at work of all places, you get an unknown call. Thinking it’s one of those scammers, you give a sharp “hello”.

“Uh…hi,” a smooth, deep, velvety voice replies. “This is Levi, Hange’s friend. This is Y/N, correct?”

You heart drops into your ass and it takes a moment for you to reply. “Uh, y-yeah,” you answer. “Yeah, this is her. You’re Hange’s friend? Did you get my number from her?”

“I had to,” Levi replies, his voice making your stomach do flips. “I’m sorry if that’s weird, but I just…”

He pauses, sighing. “I had to talk to you,” he finishes, sounding completely beaten. “I’m so sorry for not coming last week. I was so afraid for you to see me because of my appearance. I was so sure you'd find me unattractive and not like what you see. I’m very insecure in that and I let it get the best of me, but that doesn’t mean you deserved that. Hange already went up my ass about it.”

You softly giggle, knowing she would. "So, if you don’t despise me too much and you’re willing, can we meet up for dinner this Friday night if you’re free?”

He sounds hopeful and slightly afraid. You don’t know why you say yes, but you do and you make plans to meet for ramen on Friday. When the day comes, you wear a more casual outfit–-a pretty cashmere sweater, jeans, and some boots––but still style your hair and makeup to look presentable. ‘Second time’s a charm, I guess,’ you think.

It’s a dry, cool night so you wait outside the restaurant for Levi to arrive, texting him that you’re there prior to your arrival. Ten minutes into waiting, you think he isn’t going to show and that he duped you again, but then your phone rings. Your heart leaps at the sight of his caller ID and you answer. “Hello?” you answer, noticing how breathless you sound.

“Look up,” Levi says and you do, seeing him standing before you across the street under a streetlight.

The soft light illuminates his features: a sharp jawline and cheekbones, soft, pale skin, one eye the color of a gray ocean, and the other milky where a long scar runs from his eyebrow to his cheek. He walks towards you slowly with a slight gate in his step, his hand on his left leg where his prosthetic is, and finally makes it over to you. He is extremely attractive and smells like toasted vanilla.

“You’re Y/N, I take it?” he asks, a small smile on his face.

“And you’re Levi,” you reply, your heart battering against your ribcage.

He gives a slight nod, his one eye roaming over your frame. “My God, you’re stunning,” he chuckles as if he can hardly believe it. “Even more than that the first night. I had come, but I never went into the restaurant. I was so intimidated by the way you looked that I just–“

“Stop,” you interrupt, not liking the thought of him standing outside looking into the restaurant window at you, feeling so horrible about his looks.

“That was then and this is now. And you’re wrong, by the way.”

One of Levi’s eyebrows raises in confusion. “I do like what I see,” you say, your voice soft and shy. “For the record, you’re one of the sexiest guys I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

The laugh Levi lets out just about fills you with joy and you just about melt before he holds the door for you to enter the restaurant, not so discreetly staring at your ass as he does.

NANAMI KENTO (JJK)

He’s a professor and he’s a blonde is what you’re told by Gojo…but that’s about all he tells you, the asshole.

“You’re asking me to go on a date with a dude I don’t even know and you won’t even tell me what he looks like?”

You’re sitting with him at brunch with bottomless mimosas when he runs it by you. You get the feeling he just invited you out with the promise of mimosas, good omelettes, and paying just to toss this at you.

Gojo gives you his big, gigawatt smile as he sits across from you wearing his usual shades. “Trust me, babe! He’s a good and attractive guy! If I wasn’t taken, I’d fuck him myself.” He snorts to himself, shoveling some eggs into his mouth. “But I don’t even think I’m his type.”

From what you gathered at the start of brunch, Kento Nanami is Gojo’s very stoic, very introverted, very lonely friend who is in need of a date this upcoming Valentine’s Day. Though intelligent and handsome, Nanami isn’t too good with women and hasn’t been in a romantic relationship is quite some time.

“I swear, he’s not an incel,” Gojo swears, one hand on his heart and the other held high. “He loves women! He’s just…awkward.”

You aren’t sure if you like that answer. “What if I meet him and I don’t like him?” you ask, taking a break from your mimosa. “I mean, I’m only agreeing to this because you said you’d pay me.”

And Gojo did. He figures you’re the perfect girl––smart, pretty, and funny––to bring Nanami out of his shell. “$50,” he sing-songs. “And if you hate his guts, you'll get another $50, I promise. But give him a chance, Y/N! He needs it!”

To not hear him whine and beg, you roll your eyes and agree. Gojo arranges for you to meet with Nanami at a winter light show in the park that is done every year. It’s the perfect place to meet since it’s romantic and very populated.

You dress in your warmest and cutest coat before hurrying to meet Nanami, your boots crunching in the snow. The park is decorated in twinkling lights that line the trees, walkways, and fountains.

You’re so enchanted by the lights that you barely see the slick of ice lining the sidewalk. You misstep and your left foot goes skidding. “Oh, shit!” you gasp as you fall, but you don't feel the ground or the cold snow.

You don’t feel anything at all except two warm, strong arms wrapped around you. You look up into the warm eyes of an older man. An older, extremely attractive man with a blonde undercut and wearing a tan wool coat. “Are you alright, miss?” he worriedly asks. His voice is deep yet warm and sweet like honey.

You’re so taken by the stranger that you barely notice that he has set you upright. “Um…yeah,” you answer albeit softly.

You blink at him, noticing how tall and well-built he is behind his coat. His hands are strong and capable and you find yourself staring at them even when he shoves them into his pocket. “Nanami?” you hesitantly question.

You watch his darker blonde brows furrow in confusion then rise in realization. “You’re Y/N,” he realizes. “Forgive me. Gojo didn’t tell me what you’d look up or what you’d be wearing.”

You think you see his eyes trailing over you, but you can’t focus on it for too long. “That’s okay,” you laugh. “That’s Gojo, for you. How do you know him?”

Nanami begins to walk with you to the line at the entrance gate to enter the event, keeping the same slow pace as you. “We went to the same high school and remained friends ever since. How did you meet him?”

“We met through a mutual friend and just clicked,” you explain. “Her name is Shoko.” Recognition crosses Nanami’s face at the name. “Shoko?” he asks, a light flickering in his eyes. “I know her as well. We all went to the same school.”

“What a coincidence!” you giggle, glad to have something to break the ice (other than your fall). “Thank you again for helping me. I know I’m dumb for wearing these things in the snow.” You nod down at your heeled boots to which Nanami only stares at, never smiling. His expression is unreadable and slightly intimidating. But you can tell it’s just awkwardness. Now you see what Gojo meant.

But rather than be unnerved by it, you find yourself wanting to break through it. You want to get to the warm core of this man. “Um…should we walk?” you ask, nodding at the entrance gate. Nanami nods but looks slightly worried.

“Will you be alright?” he asks, still staring at your feet. “You may want to hold onto me.” He offers you his arm, a slight tinge of pink to his cheeks that one could pass off for the cold. Your heart leaps at the chance to touch him, even be near him.

“What a gentleman,” you chuckle. “I didn't think chivalry still existed.” You take his coat sleeve and let him lead you through the entrance into the park’s first trail.

A chuckle that makes your stomach flip and your pussy leap leaves Nanami’s mouth. “I wouldn’t say all of that but thank you. I would just think I’m being a good human being. So Gojo told me about your job. What is that like?”

The park is truly beautiful, decorated head to toe with lights that twinkle and dance. But you’re not focusing on the lights; just Nanami and his conversation. For such a stoic guy, he can really hold a conversation.

He tells you all about his job as a professor and his students; what subjects he likes; his life outside of work. He asks you about you and all of your habits, hobbies, and joys. He listens intently, putting them all in his brain’s filing cabinet. You find similarities about each other, including favorite books, movies, and your love for the beach.

The date lasts for an hour and you enjoy every minute of it. You like being around Nanami, enjoying his stale humor and shy smile. More than anything, you like his presence.

You like how soft his wool coat feels under your finger. You like how he keeps his arm at reach, even when you release him at times. You like how he keeps the same pace as you, never walking too fast and always staying at your side, his black leather shoes tapping against the concrete.

You’re feeling him and you want to let him know that when you finally reach the end of the park where the last attraction, an ice sculptor decorated in lights, stands.

“Wow,” you sigh. “So pretty.”

Nanami stands next to you as you stare up in awe at the attraction. “Yes,” he agrees, though he isn’t looking at the lights. His attention is solely on you.

He likes the way the lights illuminate your skin which contrasts with his. He likes the brown of your eyes, so warm and tempting like chocolate. He likes your humor and sweet laugh. He likes you and he isn’t too shy to show it. You can see it when you turn and find him already staring at you, bold and heated.

He is sexy. He is alluring. And you want him. “Nanami?” you shyly ask.

His eyebrows raise, acknowledging your question. You turn to him fully and stare up at him through your lashes. “I don’t usually do this, but…would you want to come home with me?”

He is silent, staring at you wordlessly, and your stomach flips with discomfort. “For coffee, maybe?” you add.

Nanami doesn’t have to be asked again.

To end such a perfect date, you find yourself on your back with Nanami on top of you, looking so handsome above you as he pounds your pussy into the mattress. His big hands pin your thighs apart and up to his broad shoulders, your painted toes and skin contrasting deliciously with his lighter skin.

“So pretty,” he groans. “You were the prettiest thing there tonight. Fuck, darling, you’re so tight!”

He thrusts into you harder, faster, making the bed squeak and you lose your voice from how loud you moan. You can feel yourself about to cum after so much foreplay and stimulation (Nanami is a gentle lover).

“Kento,” you whine, digging your nails into his shoulders. “I’m gonna cum! Please…please cum with me!”

And he does. At the sound of you begging, he bursts inside of you with a ragged groan as you cum all over his big cock, your pussy walls squeezing around him and stroking his shaft.

As you do, his lips find yours, giving you a passionate kiss that could melt the ice with how hot it is.

NICO ROBIN (One Piece)

*Note: Reader is plus-sized!

Nami swore up and down that you needed to go on a date for Valentine’s Day to forget about your short-term “situationship”.

“Just give a chance, Y/N,” she said to you over ramen. She treated you to lunch at the best ramen place in town while you were on your work break. “It’s just for one night and I can’t stand the thought of my best friend alone on Valentine’s Day! And she’s a great girl, seriously!”

You looked down at your bowl of ramen, feeling hot under your sweater dress that clung to your plump body. The idea of a blind date didn’t appeal to you much, especially being such a big girl. Usually, when people got a look at you, they either ghosted you after the first date or didn’t give you the time of day. Why did she think this was a good idea?

“Just be careful,” Zoro said, shoveling spicy miso ramen into his mouth. “She’ll charm the pants off of you…or skirt…whatever you’ll be wearing.” Nami smacked him on the the arm hard, making the green-haired hunk hiss in pain. “Don’t listen to him, honey. Robin is just a sweet-talker. You have nothing to worry about!”

But when you finally get a look at your date, you don’t think that’s true. Nami set the date up at a high-scale bar where the working class and hotshot businessmen come for happy hour.

When you walk in, you immediately feel self-conscious despite looking oh-so yummy in your waistband coat that flares around your waist and pink dress that makes your skin and brown eyes pop. But the dress also sticks to your body, accentuating each curve, ripple, and roll. Though your stomach ripples with nerves, you also feel slightly confident catching eyes under the warm lights above.

You sit at the sleek bar and order yourself a cocktail to loosen up a bit more while you search for your date at the door. Nami only told you that she’s “tall with long black hair and might be wearing purple”.

You’re curious as to what this girl is like and if she likes what she sees. You sip on your cocktail and scroll through your phone for a couple of minutes, completely unaware of the eyes you have captured from down at the bar.

When you turn around in your stool to place your glass down, you find another cocktail sitting behind you. Confused, you flag down the bartender. “I didn’t order this,” you tell him, pushing the glass towards him. “It was sent to you,” he explains. “From down at the bar.” You look in that direction, but find no one paying any attention to you. “But I have a date,” you protest. “I can't accept this.”

“That’s correct,” a sweet yet smooth and sultry voice purrs behind you, “and it’s usually rude to deny a drink from her.” The voice causes your body to react instantly: the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end; your heart pounds in your chest; your stomach flips. You turn and see your blind date standing behind you in the flesh.

Beautiful isn’t a word to use for Robin. She is absolutely stunning. A straight vixen oozing confidence and poise as she stands behind you in a purple cocktail dress that illuminates her soft, pale skin and blue eyes that steal the air from your lungs.

She is tall and slender with piano fingers painted in a dark rouge that you want to feel wrapped around your body, but has a rack that can stop traffic and is definitely catching eyes. Her long, shiny, black locks of hair cascade down her slender shoulders, catching the light above. You are in awe of her and her beauty as are the others in the bar.

“Y/N?” she asks in her alluring voice. Wordlessly, you nod and close your mouth to avoid looking like an idiot. “I’m Nico Robin, Nami’s friend. She’s told me so much about you.” She puts a slender hand out to shake yours, giving you a whiff of her luxurious-smelling perfume and a peek of golden Tiffany bracelet.

You put your hand in hers, feeling warm from her touch. “N-Nice to meet you,” you stutter. “Please, have a seat. Do you want a drink?” Robin raises her brows questionably as she settles onto a stool next to you. You flush under the lights, thanking God that he made you Black. “It’s only right since you ordered me one.”

Robin smiles, her pearly whites and dimples making you damn near melt. “How sweet of you,” she giggles. She orders herself a dirty Martini with extra olives and thanks you again when it comes. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting. I got caught up in some work.” She slowly crosses her soft, long, milky legs over one another. You do your best not to stare.

You give her a smile, pretending that you’re not turned the fuck on by her, and lean your elbow against your chin. “So you’re an archaeologist, right? That’s such an interesting job.”

She smiles at the compliment and at the mention of her career as you sip your cocktail. “Well, I’ve always been attracted to history since I was young. I’m attracted to intelligence too, which you seem to have a lot of.” Her smile turns flirty and now you know what Zoro was talking about. You’re already charmed by her. “Tell me: what’s your job like?” she asks.

Your conversations last for hours and flow perfectly, especially after you get your second drink in you. You tell her about your job and quietly gush over her curiosity and awe, realizing how much she loves learning. You talk about everything, from city life to books to anime, learning that you both love magical girl anime, especially Sailor Moon.

You didn't expect that from Robin because of how poised she is and her love for dark colors, but as soon as you mention Sailor Moon, her eyes widen in excitement. “I love Sailor Moon!” She laughs. “I cosplayed as Sailor Mars two Halloweens ago. I bet you’d look so pretty as a Sailor Scout, especially with the skirt.”

That’s another thing you learn about Robin: she’s a flirt. She sneaks in little sly compliments to obviously make you flustered…and it’s working. You try to do the same, complimenting her on her outfit and her smile. “I can see why everyone is so fond of you in here,” you say, nodding at the group of businessmen playing pool who are not so discreetly staring at you both from across the room.

Robin giggles, turning back to you with a hooded gaze. “Too bad,” she sighs, not at all sounding disappointed. “I’m here with you.”

As the night goes on, it gets looser as you both become more comfortable with each other. You talk about everything and anything, telling each other funny stories and showing pictures of your pets. “You’re a dog mom too?” you coo, gushing over her wallpaper of her and a fluffy, brown animal dressed as Santa Claus though he has pointed ears and horns.

“Reindeer mom,” she corrects you and titters at your confusion. “It’s a long story, but that’s my perfect little boy. His name is Chopper.”

Other than Robin being a sweet-talker as Nami said, you also find out many other things about this alluring, attractive woman. Like how much she loves plays and Disney movies, becoming so excited when you ask her about her favorite films. “I love musicals,” she shyly says, an endearing blush on her face. “Can you tell I’m a secret theatre kid?”

Or how she tends to ramble about information she’s obtained from books and documentaries about tribes long gone and age-old urban legends. You could listen to her talk for hours. Unbeknownst to you, she feels the same about you whenever you speak about yourself and your interests.

As the alcohol takes its affect on you both, she also tells you that she’s a devil fruit user, a term you’ve heard before since many in the world are, including your mutual friend Luffy. When you ask her about her ability, she just winks behind her third martini glass. “A woman never draws all of her cards…not all at once, anyway.”

As the night draws on, so do the drinks and soon, you’re feeling loose and bold. You decide to show her your hidden talent which is rolling your eyes to the right and the left. “I can wiggle my ears too,” you say, showing her much to her amusement. She applauds you, giggling at your talent. “My, you’re full of surprises,” she giggles. “And so am I.”

You suddenly feel something tickling your sides and look down to see two disembodied hands tickling you. Robin’s hands. You look at her in shock as she retracts her extra arms, using them to grab her third martini and take a sip. “The perks of being a devil fruit user,” she chuckles. At the sight of your expression, she grows concerned. “Do they frighten you?”

“No,” you answer honestly. “They’re…” You stare at her extra hands, wondering how many more she has and how they would feel on your body. “Pretty,” you decide to answer with. That is enough for Robin to decide what she wants from you tonight.

So when you’re both still sitting there when the bar is emptying out, she makes it known. “Oh, dear,” she sighs, exhaling in disappointment as the bartenders clean and the drunk crowd empties out. “It appears that our date has become to an end.” She turns to you, placing a warm hand on yours. “I really enjoyed meeting you, Y/N,” she says, a smile on her face that makes you ache.

You don’t want tonight to end. You don’t want her to go. You need more of her touch. She seems to understand and see the mutual disappointment in your eyes because she doesn’t release your hand.

“Unless you want this night to continue,” she adds, her voice like honey in your ears. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t very attracted to you too, unless I’m mistaking the chemistry.”

You can’t speak, so you shake your head and her eyes twinkle. She leans in toward you, engulfing you in her scent. “Just say the words and I’ll go with you,” she whispers into your ear.

Desire overwhelms you and you squeeze her hand, interlacing your fingers. “I’ll call a Lyft,” you exhale. Robin smiles, keeping her hand in yours.

She doesn’t let go even hours later when your fingers are interlaced with each other while your legs are pinned open by her extra hands on the bed. Your moans and whimpers fill the darkness of your bedroom as she moves her tongue against your clit, moaning eagerly and sloppily into your pussy as she eats you like there is no tomorrow.

“Now I can really show you how good I am with my hands,” she giggles, looking up at you between your thighs. “You’re so cute like this, pretty girl.”

You can feel that knot in your core tightening the more she moves her jaw, going faster and faster until you have no choice. “Robin,” you whine. “I'm gonna…gonna…!” Your back arches and your legs shake around Robin’s face.

Her hold on you tightens, her hands gripping your thighs.“Cum for me, gorgeous,” she hums. “I’ve got you. Cum all over my face like a good girl.”

One thing is for sure while you gush around Robin’s face, loving how she eagerly laps up everything you give her: another date is definitely in the future for you and her.

PRO!KATSUKI BAKUGOU & KIRISHIMA EJIROU (BHNA)

*Note: Reader is plus-sized & a bimbo!

*Disclaimer: Bakugou & Kiri are both aged-up (over the age of 18) in this drabble!

You don’t know why you agreed to do this blind date thing, but your friend put you up to it after she reminded you of your NY resolution to try new things to help yourself.

“You need to put yourself out there more, girl!” she argued over the phone with you. “Do you see how hot you are?! You deserve to have someone on your arm!” You pouted as you painted your toe nails a pretty bubblegum pink, your feet hanging over you bathtub smelling like vanilla bubblebath.

Though she is right about you deserving a nice guy to tell you how pretty you are, most of the guys you dated either used you as arm candy, hit in then quit it, or just stopped talking to you because of your, uh…bimbo-ness. You know you have no filter and sometimes you do come off as dumb, but you’re trying your best! And you’re kind and the sweetest person anyone will ever meet! Isn’t that enough?

“Yeah, but a blind date though?” you complained into the phone sitting on your sink. “How am I gonna go on a date if I can’t see, girl?” You gasped, even more mortified. “Or will my date be blind?! How will be able to see me and my cute outfit?!”

Your friend just laughed. She knows you’re not the brightest crayon in the box, but you’re just too cute and sweet. “Honey, no! A blind date is when you meet someone you’ve never seen or met before. Someone else sets the date up for you.”

Your heart resumed its normal pattern and you relaxed into the water. “Ohhh,” you realized with a giggle. “Well, if you’re setting it up, can you tell me anything about him?”

Your friend refused, much to your dismay. “Nope, but you’ll meet him later this week. Saturday night at 7 PM, don’t be late. I’ll give you all the details before then.” You hung up, a bit nervous but excited, already picturing your outfit for the day.

The Saturday of Valentine’s Day weekend, you go to the cafe your friend tells you to go to which is only a few blocks from your apartment. You dress in a pink sweater that does nothing to hide your voluptuous bosom and a pretty, cherry red skit that hugs your tummy and voluptuous ass, the damn thing so short that the ruffles stop mid-thigh, a sliver of your asscheeks seen whenever you bend over. You pair your V-Day outfit with some warm stockings and high black boots before putting on your favorite fluffy, pink coat.

An hour later after putting on some vanilla-scented body spray and giving your lips a slick of your favorite Fenty Gloss in a sparkly pink, you stand in line to order your food, hoping that will ease your nerves over today. Because your friend loves you so much, she set you up for two dates today: one at the cafe and the other later tonight at your favorite bar.

Your first date is a redheaded hunk, according to your friend. “He’s got red hair and he’s a fucking giant,” she giggles. “And he’s SUPER fine. You’ll know him when see him.” You melted at the details. “I do like big guys,” you sigh dreamily. Your second date is just as fine, but a hothead. “My friend works with him at his agency and apparently, he’s got a mouth.” Your friend rolled her eyes. "The dude is like a pit bull, but he's so fucking sexy.”

“I’m a little nervous though,” you mumbled, starting to feel insecure. “You think he’ll like me?” Your friend looked at you like you were insane, making you laugh. “Who wouldn’t? You’re adorable!”

And you feel adorable when you go next to the counter and the cashier’s eyes shoots straight to your tits. You don’t notice, too busy feening for some sweet, sugar coffee. “Hi, can I please get a peppermint mocha latte with two pumps of caramel, please?” You are so damn cute that the guy blushes and quickly rings you up. You pay and thank him when you get your drink before walking off, but stop when something captures you.

There, hidden behind a glass container behind the counter, are a bunch of seasonal-flavored doughnuts lined up in a row. Your eyes immediately go for the one coated in pink frosting, powdered sugar, and red and pink sprinkles. “Oooh,” you coo to yourself. “So pretty.”

“Agreed,” says a raspy, sexy voice from behind you. You turn a little too quickly and a bit of coffee sloshes over the top of your drink and onto the crotch of the guy standing behind you. “Oops, I’m so sorry!” you gasp. “I didn’t even see you! Oh, it’s gonna stain! Here, quick!” You quickly reach for a wad of napkins and begin to dab at the man’s crotch, not even realizing how it looks.

Still not even bothering to look up, the blonde furiously blushes while the redhead behind him stifles a laugh. “That’s quite okay,” he chuckles. “At least now he smells like peppermint down there.” The blonde growls like he wants to commit murder. “Plus, Katsuki was standing way too close to you in line, weren’t you, ‘Suki?”

You hand the napkins over to the blonde, hyper-focused on the nickname. “‘Suki,” you giggle. “That’s such a cute…” Your words die in you when you finally, finally, look up into the eyes of the two finest, sexiest men you’ve ever seen in your life.

One of them has long, red hair cascading down his broad shoulders, fanged teeth that flash at you as he smiles, friendly, crimson eyes, and piercings––dangling from his ears, embedded in his eyebrow, and snakebites in his bottom lip.

The other sports a platinum blonde undercut and a scowl that slightly softens at the sight of you. He, too, has crimson eyes that widen at your pretty face and outfit and one piercing in his plump bottom lip. The only things similar about the duo are how tall, buff, and sexy they both are. “Name,” you weakly finish. “I-I’m Y/N.”

The redhead grins, putting his big ass hand out for a shake. “Ejirou,” he says, “but my friends call me Kiri.” You do so, noticing how calloused his palm is and how much his sweater stretches against his pecs. The blonde has the same issue, his V-neck shirt way too tight for his toned body. “Bakugou,” he grumbles, giving you an intense stare that makes you melt on the inside.

Those gears in your head start turning and you gape at the duo. “Wait…I know you two!” you gasp. “You guys are those superheroes, right? Dynamight and Red Riot!” Kiri tosses his head back and laughs while Bakugou glares daggers at you. “Damn, could you be any louder?” he growls. You cover your mouth, flushing with embossment. “Sorry!” you whisper. "I’m just a big fan of you two! I almost didn’t recognize you in normal clothes. I have your posters and all of your merch!”

Kiri gives Bakugou a look that he would seeing a cat do something cute. And that is what you are: a cute little kitty. Something adorable and sweet yet you have a sexiness to you that both men are coming to find. “Well, it's always a pleasure to meet a fan. Especially such a cute one.” He grins at the way you giggle bashfully. “I’m guessing you’re a fan of sweets? Me too. I was actually planning on getting one of those for my boyfriend, my date, and I.”

You notice Kiri gaze at Bakugou when he says “my boyfriend” and you quietly gush to yourself. “Oh, you two are dating?” you coo, much to Bakugou’s dismay. He’s so cute when he blushes! “That’s so sweet! Here, I’ll treat you guys to ‘em to make up for that nasty spill.”

Kiri is just about ready to scoop you up and take you home with them when you dig into your bag for your Hello Kitty wallet. “Well, isn’t that sweet? You up for somethin’ sweet, Katsuki?”

Though Bakugou feels the same way, he still wants to feel you out and see if this “bimbo-esque” personality you’ve got going on is a fake. “It’s whatever,” he grumbles. “But you’d better get me the chocolate one. I don’t want the one with all of those sprinkles and shit on it.” You vigorously nod, taking out some cash. “You got it!” you giggle and hand them the cash. After getting back in line, Kiri orders one chocolate and two strawberry donuts and his and Bakugou’s drinks.

You thank the cashier when she hands you each pastry individually wrapped in a paper bag, nice, warm, and toasty from the oven. You turn to the pros and hand them the treats. “Here you guys go,” you sweetly say. Bakugou grumbles as he takes his while Kiri gives you a big gigawatt grin. “Thanks, cutie,” he chuckles. You expect them to start eating them, but you’re shocked when Bakugou hands one of the strawberry ones to you.

You freeze, confused. “But…this is for your date,” you say, completely clueless. “Aren’t you gonna give it to them?” Bakugou pinches the bridge of his nose like a dad with a dumbass child. “Oh, my God,” he groans. Kiri thinks it’s endearingly hilarious, holding his stomach as he laughs. “You are our date, silly girl!” he giggles. “Well, mine, technically. Your friend set us up to have dates with you at different times today, but we both just came together since we’re dating. I hope that’s cool.”

You gape at them, wondering if they’re serious. Two of the hottest pros on a date with you? At the same time?! You just about squeal with excitement. “Sure!” you giggle, your heart leaping for joy. “The more, the better! Let’s go sit down so we can get to know each other more.”

The two are happy to oblige. Kiri picks out a table in the back that is more secluded and near the window for the sights. Before you sit, you turn to Katsuki with an apologetic pout. “I’m sorry again about the spill, Bakugou.”

The blonde cuts his eyes at you and you can't tell what he’s thinking due to how permanent his scowl is. But that changes when he pulls your chair out for you. “Katsuki,” he replies. “And stop mentionin’ it. Besides, I know some other way you can make up for it later…maybe with your number.” He gives you a lopsided smirk that makes you tingle between your thighs.

“Chill,” Kiri cuts in, rolling his eyes. “Sorry about him. We don’t usually flirt too hard on the first date…but you’re just too cute to resist.” He boldly looks you up and down, tugging lightly on his bottom lip. You wonder what else he can do with his mouth as the cafe’s atmosphere becomes more tense between the three of you. “Well, I could say the same about you two,” you purr, a shy giggle leaving your lips.

That’s what the duo want to hear. Bakugou’s smirk widens, a twinkle in his vermillion eyes. “Glad the feelin’ is mutual, mama,” he whispers. “So you sittin’ or what? My fuckin’ coffee’s gettin’ cold.” You do so and you never want the date to end…unless it’s to spend more time with them in private.

NICHOLAS "NICO" BROWN (GANGSTA!)

You stand outside of a jazz club one chilly night, watching the passersby and wondering which one may be your blind date.

Worick told you all about his friend, Nico, but you’ve never met him before. You only know that the two work together and have known each other since childhood. You’ve only known Worick for two years after he helped you out of a messy financial situation with your asshole ex-boyfriend who, according to Worick, nearly shat himself when Worick threatened to bring Nico in to handle things.

Apparently, Nico is well-known throughout the town for being an extremely threatening and intimidating figure.

Why in the fuck would Worick want to set you up with someone like that? “He’s a cool dude, really!” he assured you over coffee. “Just…quiet. And it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s deaf. He’s just a quiet guy; a little awkward; introverted…”

‘Not to mention threatening and intimidating,’ you thought to yourself. “And you thought I was just perfect for this guy?” you scoffed. “What will we even talk about? How can I talk to him if he’s so quiet?”

“If you ask him something, he’ll answer you,” the handsome blonde replied. “And don’t worry too much about signing. He can read lips, but just make sure you slow down with your words.” Though Worick knows you know sign language due to your father being deaf since you were an infant. He can tell you’re still hesitant to say yes and folds his hands into a prayer.

“C’mon, sweetie,” he begs. “The guy has NEVER been on a Valentine’s Day date before and his last girlfriend was a fucking bitch who dumped him because he was deaf. All she wanted was his massive dick…sorry.”

He apologized when he saw your reaction. You didn’t need to know that his childhood friend has a big dick! ….Though you are curious to know just how big. “He needs someone kind, considerate, and sweet. You fit the bill! Just give him a chance, please?”

Before you agreed, Worick told you all about Nico’s ex, happy to do so when you asked. Apparently, she was the daughter of a rich family that he and Worick were in charge of guarding for a couple of months. She and Nico grew closer, had a sexual relationship, and Nico caught feelings while she didn’t, claiming it was because she didn’t want to date someone deaf due to it being “too much work”. You felt bad for Nico, especially when hearing how much it hurt him.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you sighed at Worick’s pleading stare. He clapped his big, calloused hands and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Love you too, sweetie,” he chuckled. “I’ll fill you in on the details later this week.”

He instructed you to meet Nico at an underground jazz club that Nico particularly likes for its seclusion and because no one bothers him too much in there. You dressed in a simple cocktail dress, flats and a cardigan to keep warm in the chill. Combined with your styled hair and soft makeup, you think you look pretty. You hope this “Nico" person thinks so too. When you look down the street among the other stores and taverns, you see a man walking up the road and you immediately know that your date has arrived.

He is big. Huge! The man is nothing but bulky muscle hidden beneath his black tee, baggy jeans, and leather jacket standing at six-foot-something. He towers over you as he gets closer, so much so that you have to look up at him to actually look at his face. You can see why he's so intimidating.

Other than his height and build, Nico carries himself with a roughness and a confidence that is unshakeable and undeniable. It’s scary…yet also thrilling. Kinda sexy too.

Under the soft glow of the street lamps, you get a good look at his features: he has a soft tan to his skin, thick, soft-looking lips, and eyes a deep, dark chocolate that you can get lost in forever. Silver dog tags hang from his thick neck that has your blood going hot and slight scars and bruises that you can see on his knuckles. You wonder, briefly, how he got them. He’s very, very handsome.

Realizing he’s waiting for you to make the first move, you clear your throat. “Uh….hi!” you greet, giving him a wave. He nods, barely cracking a smile. “You’re Nico?” you sign with your hands and verbally ask. “I’m Y/N, Worick’s friend.”

Nico shakes your hand and you notice how big, warm, and calloused his palm is. It makes your pussy tingle embarrassingly so. “The teacher, right?” he signs with those thick fingers. “He told me you teach little kids.” You nod, smiling proudly at your occupation. “Yes, pre-K,” you giggle. “They’re adorable, but a handful.”

There is an awkwardness between you, mostly because Nico is such a silent guy. He also keeps that stoic scowl on his face, so you don’t really know what he’s thinking. “So what do you do?” you curiously ask. “Worick never filled me in on that. He just said you do ‘business’ together as Handymen.” At this, Nico cracks a crooked smirk. “Something like that,” he signs. That intrigues you a bit.

“Do you wanna go inside?” you ask, nodding at the door. “We’ll freeze before we get a chance to get to know each other more.” You give a small laugh to which he only nods, making you feel like a fish out of water. He opens the door for you, surprising you, and nods you into the warm club.

“Thank you,” you whisper, catching his intoxicating scent of cologne and lavender soap as you walk in. A bit of cigarette smoke clings to his clothes too, but it doesn't bother you much. The club is small yet cozy and dimly lit for a more intimate feel. Many people are at the bar or on the dance floor near the small stage where a band plays, the sounds of piano and cello mingling in the air.

After getting your drinks from the bar (you get a cocktail while Nico picks a beer), you pick a table near the window and Nico pulls out a chair for you. You flush bashfully at his actions, not taking him for such a sweet guy. “Such a gentleman,” you laugh as he pushes you in and takes a seat across from you. “Worick didn’t tell me that. He said you’re very quiet though.” He shrugs his broad shoulders in his jacket. “Just don’t got much to say,” he signs.

You nod as you shed your coat, revealing your naked shoulders and dress to him. You try not to be intimidated by his unwavering gaze. “That’s okay,” you sign and say. “We can talk about whatever you want.” The corners of his mouth quirk upward. “You sign really well,” he praises you. You smile proudly and bashfully, glad to have impressed him. “My dad is deaf and taught me how to sign since I was young.”

His smirk turns more dry and almost forced as he signs to you: “So me being deaf doesn’t turn you off?” he jokes.

You immediately remember his ex and feel your stomach fall. “Not at all,” you sweetly answer. “Though I don’t like beer drinkers.” You wrinkle your nose at Nico’s drink. He raises an eyebrow, confused at your distaste. “It makes kisses taste like beer.” You lean forward a bit, giving him a secretive, flirtatious smile. “I like my kisses sweet.”

Your eyes tick down to his lips and he notices. But he barely reacts. If anything, he looks disinterested and your heart sinks. “Was that too much?” you ask worriedly. Did you go too far? Are you misreading this?

Before you can babble an apology, he stops you. “You asked what I do for work with Worick,” he signs. You nod, your heart thumping madly in your chest. He takes a deep breath before signing again. “We do almost everything, but I do dirty work,” he tells you. “I used to be a mercenary, but…I’ve still got human blood on my hands.” He pauses, watching for your reaction. That explains the marks on his fists. ”Does that bother you?” he asks, apprehension in his brown eyes. Before you can respond, someone knocks into the table, nearly toppling it over.

You squeak, grabbing your drink before it can topple over while Nico straightens the table. “Oh, my God, are you alright?” you gasp, immediately helping the guy onto his feet. He turns to you, all crooked teeth and bloodshot eyes. “Now I am,” he drunkenly chortles at the sight of you. “Damn, darlin’, you’ve got a body on you! You wanna dance?” You immediately step back, warning bells going off in your head. “U-Uh, no, sorry. I’m here with–“

The man turns to Nico who has been staring daggers at the drunk the whole time. “Him?” he cackles. “That fuckin’ cockhead? You can get someone better than that, darlin’. Someone who can take care of this bo–“

The drunk cuts himself off with a whine of pain as Nico grips his hand so hard that he cracks the drunk’s knuckle bones. Unbeknownst to you, the drunk tried to touch your behind and Nico wasn’t having that. Doesn’t he know who he’s fucking with? You gape at your date as he steps between you and the drunk, a hulking mountain, and gets deep in the drunk’s grill.

And then he opens his mouth: “Back up,” he warns, his voice deeper and raspier than you pictured it though loud due to his hearing. “Unless you want your head in this table, I suggest you leave her alone. She’s with me.”

He then releases the drunk who scampers away, clutching his hand to his chest. Nico composes himself and turns to you, an apologetic look in his eyes. “Sorry,” he signs. You don’t say anything and he is so sure that he fucked this up. Now you see who he is. Now you see that he’s just a Twilight. A mercenary. A no good–

“Nico?” you softly ask. His hurtful thoughts take the back burner when you step to him, looking up at him with those precious, brown eyes. “Do you want to dance?” you ask, signing the words to him.

He blinks at you, so sure that you're scared of him. When in reality, you're just trying to push the nasty thoughts of him kissing you silly and fucking you up against the table with that big, sexy body and massive dick out of your mind.

Him defending you but still being a complete, gentle giant to you is getting you going completely, but it’s still the first date. You want him to open up and maybe a slow dance can do that for you. “Not much of a dancer,” he signs, looking sheepish.

You smile and offer your hands to which he takes. “I’ll show you how,” you giggle, pulling him along onto the dance floor filled with slow-dancing pairs. A soft, slow tune with a seductive saxophone and piano plays as you stand eye to eye. You place one hand on his shoulder as you interact your fingers with his with the other. Slowly, you begin to sway to the music, beginning to melt within the music and each other.

And when lean your head onto his shoulder, finally feeling at peace, Nico comes to feel that this is where you belong: with him, in his arms.

KEISUKE BAJI (TOKYO REVENGERS)

*Disclaimer: Baji is aged up (over the age of 18) in this drabble!

“You’re the worst blind date I’ve ever had,” you very boldly and irritatingly tell the annoyingly sexy man sitting across from you.

The attractive man with the long, wavy black hair, sharp eyes the color of milk chocolate, and a sharp, canine smile looks across from you at the table littered with remnants of your Italian dinner. Baji is his name apparently, a close friend of Mikey’s and one of his gang members. You never understood that gang shit, but they never give you problems.

If anything, Mikey’s gang ‘Toman’, protects you and makes sure you go about your days without any bother. “I’m guessin’ you’ve been on many blind dates before me?” Baji suggests as he chews on his pasta. “Huh. That’s a shocker.”

You sharply squint at him, catching onto that shade. “Why is that so shocking?” you ask, digging your nails into the table with how irked you are. You can’t believe Mikey set you up with him. It’s been 25 minutes into the date and so far, each conversation was an argument and shot after shot.

Your personalities clash horribly, not to mention every woman in the place has their eyes on him. And he knows it! Not to mention that he’s an extremely messy eater (which led your mind to other places), he is way too into himself, and he has no idea how to act in a classy setting like an Italian restaurant.

He’s a wild. He’s argumentative and hot-headed. He’s a rugged, tough-as-nails, roughneck dude…and he’s turning you on.

Baji leans back against his chair, widening his legs in a way that makes you want to scream. Why the fuck does he have to be so goddamn fine but such an asshole? Is God punishing you? “Well, bein’ the fact that you’re the very definition of ‘a stick in the mud’,” he explains, “and a tighter than a drum, I can hardly believe how any guy sat across from you at a table. At least you’re pretty.” He goes back to eating his pasta like he didn’t just insult you.

“Excuse me?” you hiss, feeling your blood boil. Thank God for your dress or else, you’re sure you’d boil over from the anger you feel. “And I can’t imagine how any self-respecting woman can sit with a lowlife, cocky, smart ass narc like you. And unlike me, your looks do nothing to take away any of that.” Baji’s thick, black eyebrows raise at the shot you took. “And you’re snarky,” he chuckles. “Lucky for you, I’ve got a thing for snarky girls.”

He uses his sinful tongue to lick a bit of sauce from his bottom lip. You catch a glint of metal on his tongue as he does and you realize that he has a tongue piercing. ‘Fuck,’ you think, clenching your thighs beneath the table and gripping the hem of your dress. You lean your hand against the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache coming on. “I can’t believe I said yes to this shit,” you sigh into your hand. “Fuck the $50. I’m gonna have to tell Mikey that–“

“Mikey?” Baji cut in, pausing from eating. “Mikey put you up to this?” His brown eyes widen in shock and you feel a spark of joy at shutting him up. “Yes,” you proudly say, venom in your tone, “he did. And you know why? It’s because no other girl wants to date you. You’re unromantic, you’re a slob, you’re always looking for an argument, and you seem to push every single guy’s buttons in here.”

He stares at you for a moment, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, and then he begins to laugh so loud that the others in the restaurant look at him. You hide behind your hand, embarrassed. “Oh, shit!” he cackles. “I swear, that motherfucker is desperate to find me somebody.” You nod, pushing your dinner to the side. “Agreed. Why he ever thought I would be a perfect match for you is beyond me.”

Baji looks at you now, an unreadable expression on his face as his smile fades. “Maybe it’s because you’re such a fuckin’ brat,” he replies though his tone is different. You stare at him in disbelief, scowling. Did he really just say that? Deadass?

Baji smirks at your reaction. “You heard me: B-R-A-T. You’re a brat and fortunately for you, baby girl, I’m just the guy to handle a chick like you.” He leans in toward you, folding his ringed knuckles beneath his chin. “Someone who doesn’t shut the fuck up or know her place.”

“Know her place?!” you snap, earning the attention of the restaurant. He barely reacts, though his smile grows and a strange twinkle appear in his eyes. “You know what? Fuck this and fuck you. Why you even have an ex-girlfriend is beyond me if this is how you talk to them.” You stand up in your pretty, body-hugging dress and grab your coat. “I’m leaving,” you huff, snatching the coat on. “Have a good Valentine’s Day, dickhead.”

Without another word or waiting for him to respond or even stop you, you leave the restaurant and step out into the cold February night. You barely get down the street before you hear your name being called. You turn, seeing Baji jogging towards you, those black locks flowing in the wind. “Y/N!” he calls in his deep ass voice. “Hold up, wait!” You don’t know why you stop, but you do, putting a hand on your hip. You glare at him and pout those plump lips when he finally stops in front of you. “You left your dessert.”

He presents a small brown box to you and opens it to reveal a small chocolate fudge cake with chocolate mousse on the inside and Godiva flakes coating the top. “I didn’t order any dessert,” you say in a tight voice. He smirks down at you, standing several heads taller than you. “I know; that’s why I ordered ya one. C’mon, you don’t like chocolate cake?” You look back down at the cake and close it before he hands it to you. “What, is this an apology?” you snort. “Sorry, man, but you’re gonna have to try much harder than–“

“You’re wonderin’ why I have an ex, right?” he interrupts you. You pause, confused, but he just smiles mischievously at you. “I have an ex, and many of them, because I’m an asshole, unfortunately. Force of habit.” He shrugs, but actually looks guilty for it. “But I’ve had many girlfriends because I know how to tame them.”

His smile is flirtier now, creating more of that sexual tension that you felt at dinner. You still stare at him, speechless, and he figures that you’re clueless about what he means. “I put it down,” he explains. "Give good dick. Knock their boots. Am I makin’ any sense here?”

You roll your eyes, ignoring the thoughts running in your head of just how good he is in the bedroom. “I know what you mean,” you snap. “So why the fuck are you tellin’ me this?”

Baji smiles at you, his canines glowing at you as if they are illuminated by a light within them. They thrill you and bring a ferocious and needy part out of you that you didn’t know was even there. He takes a step toward you, getting closer, until you can reach up and kiss him if you want to.

“Because I know you’re attracted to me,” he murmurs matter-of-factly. “What, you think I can’t see it? The way you squeezed your thighs tight together at the table. The way you kept starin’ dead at my hands. The way you’d get so lost in thought as if daydreaming about somethin’ else way more exciting.”

You flush embarrassingly, more at your behavior than the fact that Baji noticed it. You can’t help how attracted you are to him. But Baji doesn’t want you to be embarrassed or ashamed. He wants you to want him the same he wants you.

“Lucky for you, mama,” he purrs, the pet name making your pussy jump, especially with his voice, "I’m just as whipped for you, especially in that dress.” His fingers lightly glide down your arm, sending shivers down your spine. “I’m sorry about tonight, but I can show how sorry I am in other ways if you want me to.”

You can tell he genuinely means it and isn’t just trying to get in your pants, but even so, you still scowl up at him, your jaw set and eyes narrow. “And why do you think I’ll say yes?” you question. He just chuckles, still flashing you that sharp, sexy smile. “Because you know I’m the only one who can handle that bratty ass of yours.”

He then turns and waves a hand. You don’t know what for until a taxi suddenly glides over to the curb and stops. Baji walks to the backdoor and opens it before looking back at you expectantly, his eyes molten with lust.

“Now get in the fuckin’ car, Y/N.” You know you shouldn’t get in the car and go anywhere with him, but you can’t deny how much he makes your pussy throb. So against your better judgment, you crawl into the backseat of the cab and tell the driver your address.

Hours later after being stripped out of your dress, shown extensive foreplay, and having your pussy eaten like Baji hasn’t had anything to eat in decades, you find yourself being fucked against the wall with your arms and legs wrapped tight around the long-haired, tattooed man who holds you against him as he pummels his thick, hard cock into your tight, wet pussy again and again. The bedroom is filled with the sound of your mixed moans and skin slapping against skin as he pistons his hips into you, making you see stars.

It doesn’t take long for your pussy to start quivering around his cock, squelching and dripping the more he fucks it. You’ve never been fucked like this in your life and you’re able to hold back anymore. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Baji!” you practically scream. “Can’t…can’t take it! I’m gonna cum!”

Baji shakes his head, gripping your hair with one hand while he hikes you up onto his waist with the other, showing you how lightweight you are to him. “Uh-uh, bratty girl,” he huffs. “Not yet, mama. I need to feel more of this pretty pussy flutterin’ around me.”

He thrusts harder, faster, drawing whines and sobs out of you. You begin to claw at his back where a large tattoo dedicated to Toman is inked into his back muscles. “You cum when I say, understand?” he growls into your ear.

You weakly nod, willing to do anything he says if that means you can cum. “Now shut the fuck up, and take this dick.” You do so, stopping your protests as he fucks you stupid until you cream all over his cock while he fills you up to the brim…but of course, you only do it when he says so. You find that you love doing what he tells you to.

When everything is said and done, you both crumble to your bedroom floor and Baji pecks your cheek. “Best blind date ever, right?” he chuckles.

BENIMARU SHINON (FIRE FORCE)

*Note: Reader is Goth!

“God, kill me,” you sigh, standing in front of the theater doors. “Why did I agree to do this? He could be a serial killer or something!”

You contemplate leaving, but you already promised your best friend that you’d go through with this stupid blind date on this stupid ass holiday. “Please just try and go along with it for tonight, Y/N!” she practically begged. “I promise he’s a nice guy! And I already told him you agreed! Just give it a chance and I promise you that I’ll never bother you about dating again.”

You groaned, sitting across from her at a bar. “Fuck,” you sighed. “Fine. Can I least pick the movie?” Your friend eagerly nodded, so you purposely picked a romance/horror movie marathon showing that the theatre does every year for Valentine’s Day. The kind with blood n guts, gothic vampires, and slashers. Surprisingly, the guy still agreed to come much to your dismay and you had no choice but to come out.

You know that your friend did this as a way to get you to start dating. You swear she thinks that one of these days that you’ll hang yourself from the shower rod with how lonely you are…and this has zero to do with you being goth. Though you love the color black, but you’re not depressed. You love dark makeup and rock music, but that’s what you love. You’ve always adored gothic fashion and the aesthetic, so that’s what you live.

However, some people think it’s weird. Though Tokyo is full of eccentric and different type of fashion, goth isn’t particularly “popular” in your Black family or side of the city. And it certainly isn’t popular with the guys. You don’t care. You love yourself and you’re not about to change for anyone. So you dress in your finest black attire with a mini leather skirt, thigh-high stockings, and boots that make you feel powerful and sexy. Your makeup is dark, your mascara is sharp, your nails are as long and sharp as claws, and chains drip from your leather jacket.

You wonder what your date will be like. Apparently, he’s a well-regarded and respected officer in the Special Fire Force, among the strongest there is. But you don’t recognize him when he comes up the road from his side of the city. He is tall and has a lean build that is hidden behind a black sweater and baggy jeans. His locks of black hair hang in his face, but not enough to hide his different set of eyes: his right pupil is a red circle with one black dot in the middle while his iris is black; his left is red with a white X in the middle, reminding you of a game of tic, tac, toe.

“Hey,” he greets easily. “You waitin’ for someone?” You scowl at him, crossing your ams over you chest. “Why are you asking?” you ask sharply. The stranger raises his big hands in defense, taking a step back. “I’m not trying you, I promise. I’m just wondering if you’re this Y/N that’s supposed to be waiting here for me.”

You squint at him, cocking your head to the side to see him at a different angle. “Benimaru?” you question. “Huh. You don’t look how I thought at all.” He is handsome but not enough to knock you off your game. He quirks a small smirk and you have a feeling that this dude don’t smile often. “I hope that’s a good thing,” he wryly chuckles. “For the record, you’re not bad on the eyes either…if that’s what you meant.”

You don’t acknowledge his compliment or react even though your stomach flips. You’re not used to anyone complimenting you on the account of your black lipstick and mascara. “So should we go in or stay out here to freeze to death?” you sarcastically ask. You huff and turn on your heel before Benimaru can even answer or follow you.

He easily beats you to the door on his long legs and opens it for you, towering over you as he does. “Is sarcasm just natural for you?” he asks, dry humor in his voice as you step into the theater. You feel a pang of guilt at your behavior. It’s not his fault your friend orchestrated this.

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I’ll admit, I’m not too hype about being here. Dating isn’t really my thing, but my friend insisted I come on this stupid blind date…no offense.” Benimaru barely blinks at you walk to the ticket counter. “None taken. My friend, Konro, swore I needed a Valentine’s Day date when the whole holiday isn’t even a holiday. It’s pure BS.”

“Ugh, agreed,” you scoff, rolling your pretty, brown eyes ringed in mascara “It’s just a way for companies to continue to capitalize off of hopeless romantics and couples. Not to mention all of that pink.”

Benimaru nearly misses that, too busy thinking about how pretty your eyes are. “I’m takin’ you don’t like pink?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you. “Not that your clothes are a dead giveaway or anything.” His interestingly alluring eyes tick up and down your outfit, making you feel hot under all of the leather. “I just like black,” you laugh. “But don’t get me wrong; I wear other colors sometimes, but only on a minuscule level.”

“Your friend said you were a gothic chick,” he chuckles, giving you a mischievous smirk. You send it right back as you take out the two tickets your friend sent you for the movie. “As gothic as they come,” you retort. Benimaru just hums in response, particularly liking you in that mini skirt and the way it swishes around your thighs.

After buying the tickets, you two wander into the small waiting area where a bar, a cafe, and an arcade occupy the space. “So the movie starts in about fifteen minutes. Should we head in now?” Benimaru doesn’t answer at first, too busy staring at the arcade games. “Nah,” he replies, nodding at the flashing, noisy games. “We can kill some time in here.” He begins to walk over, expecting you to follow. “Your friend also said you’re shit at racing games,” he says with a smirk shot your way.

“Not true!” you scoff, crossing your arms. He shrugs pausing in the threshold of the arcade to wait for you. You finally give in, taking off your jacket to reveal your black crop top. “Fine, but only if we got time for the shooting games too. I wanna kill some zombies.” Benimaru nods, secretly laughing to himself as you follow him into the arcade.

You spend way more than fifteen minutes in that bitch, playing all the games you can. Benimaru is good at almost everything, playing each game with skill and precision. He lets you win most of the time, just liking to see you smile and laugh in pride when you win a racing game or beat him at ping pong. During the zombie game, you get overrun by the undead while holding your plastic machine gun and you feel him lightly touch your elbow to point the gun straight. His touch sends shivers all over you. You win the first half until you run out of time and Benimaru smirks at you. “I totally helped you with that,” he sniggers.

You also play basketball, shooting them repeatedly through hoops. He always gets the farthest hoop and the highest points, winning every round. “You only won ‘cause you’re taller,” you huff, bumping your hip with his as you walk by. It gives him the perfect opportunity to watch your ass sway in that damn skirt, making him hard as a rock for you.

As walk to get something to drink, you stop at one game in particular: the crane game. It holds dozens of little plushies that you’re obsessed with, including the little black plague doctor with its big eyes and fluffy beak. Benimaru smirks at you staring at the game, walking up beside you. “I saw you looking at this thing the whole time,” he says. "You couldn't have been any less discreet.”

“Shut up,” you grumble, still staring at the plushie. He notices and pulls out his last arcade coin. “What, you want it?” You quickly shake your head, turning to leave. “We’re gonna miss the movie anyways, so–“

“Fuck it,” he carelessly interrupts, shocking you. “You obviously want that penguin, so I’ll get it for you.”

You roll your eyes, sighing. “It’s not even a penguin; it’s a plague doctor Squishable. It ain’t a big deal for me to have it, Benimaru.” But your date just glares at you as he bends down to put the coin in the slot. “And it ain’t a big deal for me to get it for you,” he argues. “If we miss the movie, we’ll just go for food.”

You are floored by his stubbornness and refusal to give up until he’s made you happy. How can that be? You only just met and yet here he is, using his last coin to try to get you a stupid plushie! You watch with bated breath as he plays the game, moving the crane slowly as he fixes his eyes on the plushie. Once he’s moved the crane right over the plushie, he hits a button, causing the crane to sink down into the sea of stuffed animals. The crane’s hooks latch onto the peak of the plushie and, slowly, he moves it over to the opening in the corner to release it.

The crane plays music and lights up in victory as the plushie rolls down the chute into Benimaru’s hand. He turns to you, an unreadable look on his face. “Here,” he says passively. “I figured goth girls didn’t like cute shit like this…but he is kinda creepy.”

You take the plushie, just staring at it for a moment. All of the sudden, you feel weird. You feel tingly and butterflies flutter around in your stomach. That never happens, but it’s happening for this guy! “Thanks,” you softly, and very shyly, say. Benimaru shrugs like it isn’t anything to him, but it is to you. “Y’know, the movie marathon is gonna be showing another night too…” You trail off, looking down at your shoes to avoid seeing his eyes.

“So you want another night with me?” he asks. Quickly, you turn on your heel and stomp out of the arcade, leaving him utterly confused. “What?” he calls after you, sounding genuinely baffled. “It was just a question!”

A second night with him does happen two weeks later and you do see the midnight marathon, but neither of you pay any attention to the first move that plays. You’re too busy bouncing on your date’s thick, veiny cock in the darkness of the theater to watch the film, biting back your moans despite the seats being empty. Benimaru softly grunts and moans into your ear as your walls flex around him, his eyes transfixed on the way your ass jiggles as he lifts up your skirt.

“Fuck, Beni!” you moan. “Y-You’re s-so fuckin’ big!” You grip his thighs with your long nails as his dick stretches you out in the best way, a delicious ache coming in your calves with the effort it takes to bounce on him. Benimaru stands up and bends you over the seat in front of you, beginning to fuck you from behind. He is fast and nails that single spot every time that makes you have to cover your mouth because you’re so loud.

“Shh, shh, baby,” he coos into your ear as he continues to pound into you from behind. “You don’t want security comin’ to find us, do you? Or maybe you do, you little slut, fuckin’ your date in the movie theatre.” He takes a fistful of your hair and pulls, much to your enjoyment of being slutted out in the dark. Anyone could walk in and see you fucking right now. It’s so naughty. So sexy.

The thrill of it must be getting to Benimaru too because he speeds up his thrusts, his balls slapping against your clit as his hand smacks against your ass, gripping it tight. “Shit, baby, you’re gonna make cum!” he groans, tossing his head back at the feeling of your tight walls squeezing around him. “Cum with me! Make that pretty fuckin’ pussy cum around my cock!”

You quickly begin to rub you swollen clit in time with his thrusts and soon enough, you’re cumming all over his cock. “Fuck!” you scream into your hand as your orgasm tears through you. Benimaru cums too, filling you up with a long groan that he bites back as best as he can among the movie playing. He lets you come down from cloud nine before pulling out, letting his cum leak down your thighs. He turns you around, pumping his cock soaked in your juices. “Not yet,” he growls. “Put it back in your mouth and taste yourself.”

You get on your knees, panties at your ankles and leather skirt hiked up. Benimaru wastes no time thrusting into your mouth, using it as his very own fucktoy, as he watches your brown eyes ringed in mascara stare up at him eagerly. When he pulls away to cum again, your black lipstick stains his cock, marking him as yours.

“Fuck!” he gasps as he cums all over your pretty face, ruining your eye makeup. It is now but black smears down your cheeks as his nut drips all over your face and cheeks.

“Poor baby,” he chuckles. “Your mascara’s runnin’. I bet you worked so hard on it.” He takes a napkin from your movie snacks and dabs away the cum. “So cute,” he sighs, marveling at how utterly adorable you look. You giggle, feeling deliriously good and cute, just as he says.

Yeah. A third date is most definitely in the future for you now.

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henry7931 · 2 months

Text

Head Swap Short: My Dad’s Body At The Pool

Trevor:

God this is embarrassing! I just know all of my friends are going to make fun of me.

I broke my leg about a week ago and I’ve been in bed for days now. I felt like I was going to miss most of the summer.

All of my friends texted me about coming to the pool today and I knew I had no way to go with the current state of my leg.

That’s when my dad stopped by my room and asked me how I was doing. I told him how bummed I am about being to go hang with my friends. That’s when offered to do a head swap with me.

Dad packed me a bag, we swapped heads, and I hurried to the pool.

As I started driving down the road, it felt kinda cool having my dad’s body on. He taller than me and pretty strong.

When I got to the pool, I headed to the locker room and started opening up the bag dad packed. I looked inside and saw only a freaking towel and a speedo!!!

But I’ve already made it this far, I looked around the locker room and saw that no one was around.

I pulled off my dad’s shorts only for his massive dick to come flopping out.

“Oh god! Everyone’s going to see his bulge.”

When I got outside I saw my friends… I took a deep breath and walked over confidently in my dad’s body.

“Holy crap Trevor! Is that your dad’s body?” said my friend Phillip.

“Yeah, it was the only way I could come.”

A couple of the guys laughed about the speedo for a little bit. But all around they thought it was kinda cool that I had my dad’s body on.

Even one of my friends Cameron told me he thought my dad was a dilf.

I’ve had a thing for Cameron for a while now but he’s never shown interest in me (at least until now). He even asked what I was doing after the pool. We ended up getting food after and went back to his house to hang.

We went up stairs and he started flirting with me hard.

“Bro, I don’t mean to be weird but it’s so hot seeing your cute head on top of your dad’s beefy bod.”

“You think haha,” I say back to him.

“Yeah man, I wouldn’t mind seeing it again all undressed,” he says winking at me.

I blushed and said, “I guess I can show it off again.”

I pulled off my dad’s shirt and shorts, all the way down to his underwear.

“Damn…” he says to me.

We go to his parent’s guess bedroom and I hop on top of the bed.

“Trev, I’m so turned on right now. I don’t know how to ask you this but could I rub your dad’s body over?”

“Sure man!”

Cameron goes down to my dad’s big feet and starts rubbing them. It feels pretty good, I guess my dad’s hasn’t had anyone rub his feet in awhile.

All of the sudden, Cam does something that surprised me. He starts licking my dad’s feet.

I watched him be enthralled with them. It was so hot seeing a hot guy my age be so into something I’d never expect.

Cam, crawls up to my dad’s crotch and starts rubbing his inner thighs. I’m surprised that he hasn’t just gone for my dad’s junk yet.

My father’s dick is completely hard and leaking on his underwear.

Cam reaches up and twists my dad’s nipple which made me squeak a bit.

I’ve looks right at my dad’s crotch and back up at me— like he’s taking for my permission.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, I knew this wasn’t a boundary I was going to be able to come back from.

I nodded my head and Cameron pulled my dad’s briefs off. My father’s 11 inch hairy dick was now in my crushes hands.

He fondled dad’s big hairy balls and planted his noise right into dad’s taint.

He kisses his cock head a couple of times before he forced dad’s dick down his throat.

I ran dad’s hands through Cam’s curly brown hair while he gave me the best blow job ever.

Cam ran his free hand all over dad’s body, I was coming close.

“Cam I’m about to cum!”

Cam takes all of my dad’s load down his throat.

He says to me, “I want you to jerk me off with your dad’s big manly feet.”

I giggled and said, “okay!”

I used dad’s feet to stroke cam’s 8 inch dick listening to him moan. Cams feet were positioned right near me to touch. I rubbed them and while watching Cam get so much pleasure from a foot job.

Cam let out one last scream of a moan as he squirted all over my dad’s feet.

I watched him lick every inch of cum off of them.

He crawled up to me and we laid in bed together while I cuddled him.

“So are you bringing your dad’s body to the pool tomorrow?”

I grinned at him, “Now I am!”

#head swap #male tf

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maggotzombie · 1 year

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the day/night we met ; henry cavill

PAIRING — Henry Cavill x Reader (fem) SUMMARY — On your wedding day, your Maid of Honor prepares a special gift to which you and Henry have distinct responses. WORDS — 1,8k TW — nothing really just a lot of fluff, emotions (I cried a bit writing it), Henry in a suit 😈. A/N — Hi! I'm not dead, just quit the most toxic job ever so I'm getting back here lol Here's a short but very dear fic to me that I wrote last year but never posted. I'm so happy to finally post this! This story has been in my head for two years now and it came out better than I thought.

Song insp.: Eu Me Lembro by Clarice Falcão feat. Silva

— 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

“ALRIGHT,” YOUR MAID OF HONOR smiles, carefully wiping her tears with a napkin. “After making you cry and potentially ruining some makeup,” The room laughs. “I’ve prepared something different to end this on a high note.”

This is one of the dearest moments of your life: your wedding. You’re marrying your soulmate. Your heart could burst with love and happiness whenever.

Everything’s perfect, from your dress to the lights of the venue. Henry – your newly proclaimed spouse – has an arm around you as you listen to your family and friends' speeches about you and your love.

You found it strange when your Maid of Honor wasn’t the first to speak, but it seems she has a reason for it. Immediately, you feel anxious, but in a good way.

“When these two told me they were getting married, I knew I wanted to do something special for them,” Your best friend starts. “I just didn’t know what, but I knew it had to be something remarkable, something for them to look back and have a good laugh,” She looks at the both of you with tears in her eyes, chuckling.

You also wipe tears off your eyes, smiling back at her, and Henry tightens his embrace around you.

“So I sat down with these two, separately, and started to ask a few questions,” She smiles and wiggles her eyebrows, which is an expression you know very well.

‘Oh my,’ You think. ‘What is she up to?’

“Things started to get really interesting from the start, and I decided to make a video out of it,” Your best friend winks at you. “Without further ado, enjoy it.”

With a pleasant smile, she sits down. The attention turns to the screens set around the venue.

You remember sitting with your Maid of Honor to chat about your relationship. You didn’t really understand why she wanted to do that. However, it always has been effortless talking about Henry, and you brushed it off as having something to do with the wedding.

You recall having a great time answering her questions – drinks might have been involved beforehand, but the whole process was surprisingly professional.

Your friend’s face pops up on the screen as she introduces herself. “In this little video, I wanted to talk about our lovely couple’s amazing and fun story, especially the day they met,” She explains. “Newlyweds, I love you very much, and I hope you like this little something I put together for you.”

She blows a kiss and waves. Then in fancy lettering, “A love story” is scribbled on the top-left corner of the screen, and “A story of love” on the bottom right corner. You wonder why both phrases – which convey the same thing – are on the video, but the thought quickly slips your mind when your smiling face appears on the screen.

“State your name and occupation, please,” Your friend prompts on the video, but she’s out of the shot.

You roll your eyes amusedly. “What’s this, a trial? I’m innocent, your honor!” You giggle, making everybody at the venue laugh.

You answer the question anyway, and your name also appears written on the video.

“For the purpose of… this, I’m the bride?” It sounds like a question, and you make a face, unsure of yourself.

She never explained what the video was for, in your defense.

Right after you, Henry appears. “I’m Henry, and I am the lucky groom,” He smiles brightly, looking as handsome as always.

“So, tell me, how did you meet Henry?” Your friend asks, and your smile is instant as you remember that exact day as if it was yesterday. “How did you meet Y/N?” She asks him in the next scene, and his reaction is the same.

“I was hosting a brunch,” You start, your eyes unfocused as the vivid memory plays in your mind. “And it was morning when Henry arrived.”

When he reapers, you can tell it’ll cut back and forth between you. “I was throwing a party, and she was the one that came around. I think it was three in the afternoon,” Henry replies, quite differently from you.

You scoff mockingly, looking at him by your side. He chuckles, brushing it off with a shoulder tic before you turn back to the screen.

“And I said: ‘Hi, come on in, make yourself at home,’ You know, something of the sorts,” You shrug off.

Your betrothed chuckles in the video, scratching his chin in thought. “I was the one that said hello, but she didn’t hear.”

His comment makes the venue erupt in laughter. You meet Henry’s loving gaze again and squeeze his hand, making him bring yours up to press a kiss on your knuckles.

If your shared story had different and entertaining versions until now, it’d just get better!

After being asked about first impressions of one another, he replies: “She thought I was hilarious,” He says with such confidence that is endearing.

In your turn, you laugh and cover your mouth as if what you are about to say it’s an embarrassing secret.

“Oh my god, he wouldn’t stop talking! Like a lot!” You emphasize. “And I pretended to laugh the entire time,” You say very sheepishly before throwing your head back in laughter again. “That’s terrible. I feel like I need to apologize,” You add after your fit.

“Oh, I just remembered something,” He suddenly announces, and his smile is wide as the memory toy around in his head. “Her blouse was inside out,” He chuckles, eyes focused on a spot. “She’s so adorable and such a goof, isn’t she?” He looks back at the camera.

“He loved the way I was dressed,” You giggle, visibly shivering as you physically remember the feeling of him truly looking at you for the first time.

Your friend asks another question, changing the subject slightly, but Henry shakes his head.

“Yeah, the party was great! Everybody was having a good time, but I only remember searching for her when she wasn’t near me. Trying to get another look, you know?” He says.

In turn, you scoff. “No one was dancing! I don’t remember who was taking care of the music, but it was terrible!” Your genuine response makes the room fills with laughter another time. “At least everyone had a drink in hand and ate something.”

“Oh, yes. The food was wonderful. Everything homemade,” Your partner assures with a proud nod naively.

“I bought everything off Tesco,” You rushedly confess, throwing your head back in laughter again.

Back to the present moment, you’re wiping the new tears from the corners of your eyes due to laughter. You love the good energy around the room as your guests and yourself enjoy the video your Maid of Honor made.

Now you understand both phases in the beginning, and although you and Henry have very distinct versions of the day you met, you love both of them and the feelings they bring you.

However, something changes in the next second of the video. For the first time, on a split-screen, you two appear together.

“When I saw him, I knew it (When I saw her, I knew it),” You both say simultaneously. “She (He) was the person I’d spend the rest of my life with,” You continue.

Glancing at him, you’re surprised to see he’s already looking at you. Then you exchange a knowing look. It seems like you got on the same page in this part of the video.

“And that’s how I realized that life put him (her) in my life,” You say in unison. “On that Tuesday (Thursday) of September (December),” Your responses overlap with each other, drawing amused reactions from people.

“That’s why I remember everything, of every second,” Both of you state, which is downright ironic at this point. “Ask me anything that I remember.”

“I remember,” You proudly declare with a grin but, this time, by yourself.

And so does Henry. “I remember,” He nods with a beam.

The video ends there, and the room erupts in applause, whistles, and hollered praises.

Words couldn’t describe the dazzling feelings you’re experiencing if you wanted to. You can’t be more grateful to your friend for this treat either. And, of course, the man you now get to call your husband.

The spotlight of attention returns to you as you’re exchanging the most enamored gaze ever. Henry leans in and presses his lips to your forehead, making you close your eyes. Slowly, you allow all those remarkable sensations to wash over you.

When you reopen your eyes, you smile at him before looking at your Maid of Honor. “Thank you so much for this extremely thoughtful gift. We both loved it a lot.”

Henry confirms with a head gesture.

“Words won’t do justice to how much you’re special to me. I’m just so grateful I get to share such a special and meaningful moment of my life, like this one, with you,” Your voice cracks at the end, and you smile, trying to hold your tears at bay as you can see she’s doing the same. “So I can’t thank you enough.”

As the room gets loud with another round of applause and cheers, she smiles, mouthing an “I love you too” to you. Wiping your tears carefully one more time, you chuckle.

“Although, I only have one question,” You announce, making the room pipe down. “Was my blouse really inside out?” You giggle as you look back at Henry.

Your husband starts to laugh. “Yeah,” He confirms bashfully. “Yeah, it was,” He nods as your guests join you in laughter.

“Oh, God. I can’t believe it,” You shake your head in embarrassment. “I also would like to point out that my husband clearly has a lot of experience with interviews,” You remark, addressing the room. “I feel kinda bad after saying I was pretending to laugh at his jokes when he’s all loving and caring,” You rejoin your friends and family in fun.

“I do tell bad jokes,” Henry concedes in your defense. “I love how genuine you are, and you’re loving and caring to me, too,” You nearly melt at his famous Hollywood-star smile.

The sound of ‘aww’s’ fills the room. “You see what I’m dealing with?” You joke, making everybody chuckle.

You give him a chaste but affectionate peck on the lips. Your wedding coordinator decides it’s time for the first dance to open the floor to make your guests burn some energy after the buffet.

And so, feeling the most secure and happy while pressed against your husband’s chest with his arms around you, you swing slowly. By sharing the same air, the same space, and the same feelings, you can’t think of anything better.

It all started on a Tuesday morning in September for you. But for him, it was a Thursday afternoon in December. Now, it is a Saturday evening in November that you’ll never forget.

You will remember. Everything. Of every second.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x you #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill headcanon #the witcher #geralt of rivia #august walker #clark kent #superman #sherlock holmes

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ayyy-pee · 10 months

Text

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Masterlist

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Story Summary: Following his mothers passing, Nanami inherits his family's rundown bakery. With the bakery on its last leg, Nanami reluctantly takes on the task of trying to save what his family has worked to keep for decades, but he can't do it alone.

Genre: Bakery/Coffee Shop AU

Warnings: Workaholic meanie Nanami, employee x boss relationship, but also enemies to lovers, death, grief/mourning, profanity, jealousy, fluff, angst, Nanami owns a bakery, parental loss, Nanami is bad at feelings, I don’t know if I’ll do smut for this one but sexual tension, mutual pining, Nanami is sort of an asshole here

Art by: Ilameys + (Unknown artist (right pic). I'd love to credit the artist so if you know who it is, please let me know!)

Chapter 2 - Wienerbrød

Chapter Summary: You try to bake something new!

You kick your shoes off as you enter your apartment. With your phone wedged between your ear and your shoulder, you groan in irritation as you storm into your living room.

“I’m telling you, Shoko. This guy is such a fucking asshole. Shut me down the second I asked him a simple question,” you’re ranting as you flop down onto your couch. “He’s got to be the most pessimistic person I’ve ever met. He did nothing but pick apart the entire bakery and tell me how shitty it was, tried to establish some strange dominance thing in the kitchen after offering me the job… the kitchen,” you stress dramatically, wavering your arms as if Shoko can see you. “My domain! Can you believe him? He doesn’t give a shit about the actual bakery. He’s a total businessman type. Stiff, boring as hell and a dick. I don’t know why I said yes to the position. I’m going to hate my life.”

You exhale sharply once you’ve finished your tirade. On the other end of the line, you hear your friend inhale deeply. You didn’t have to ask to know she was sucking on a cigarette, likely almost finished with it and prepping her second, maybe third. After a short beat of silence, you hear her exhale. “Hmm, is he hot at least?”

“Extremely,” you admit through gritted teeth, rubbing away the tension quickly forming between your brows. “That’s the worst part.”

You hate to think it, you loathe to admit it, but Nanami was so very fucking attractive, like stupid hot and it pissed you off! Those thick arms practically bulging through his dress shirt, those veins that exposed themselves and ran enticingly along his forearms when he rolled his sleeves up. His chiseled features, those sharp cheekbones, even his frown was attractive. And god, you didn’t even want to think about his waist.

Anyone with eyes could see Nanami Kento was an insanely beautiful man, modelesque even. But it only served to piss you off more. His constant gloomy attitude was so off-putting, it almost took away from his beauty, like a rain cloud threatening to cover a blue sky.

“Anyway,” you sigh, putting a stop to your own thoughts as you stare up at the ceiling. “That’s beside the point, Shoko. He’s an asshole, but it’s obvious he needs help to get his bakery up and running. I think it’s family owned. He told me that he grew up in the bakery. Seemed miserable about it, though.”

“Interesting,” Shoko manages, though she sounds rather disinterested. “Well if he had to pick anyone, he definitely hired the best person for the job. You’re annoyingly positive.”

“Okay, rude.”

“I just mean you’ll balance his negativity well. Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?”

You hum, your mind already accepting your fate. “I guess you’re right.”

“You know I am. The guy clearly needs help and you love this kind of thing - taking something old, miserable and rundown and making it loveable again.”

You hum again, listening as Shoko blows out another breath of smoke. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll do the same for the bakery, too.”

“Right. Wait– what?”

“I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” She says, voice light with humor. The line goes dead and you roll your eyes at your friends comments as you let the day's events wash over you. Nanami said he wanted to sample some of your desserts on Monday and see some new recipes. You can do that.

The moment you’d stepped into the bakery’s kitchen, your mind raced with possibilities. You felt at home there. The kitchen felt like it had been loved, like it was properly used and cared for, albeit old and a little rundown. That was okay. It gave the kitchen personality and you loved that. You wanted to continue giving the kitchen the love it deserved.

Nanami told you he’d grown up in that kitchen, but he truly seemed to hate even being in the building. You tried to picture a chubby little blonde boy with his arms crossed and a scowl etched across his face standing in the kitchen covered in flour and icing. Adorable, but definitely not the man you’d met today. You wondered how it came to be that he now owned this bakery when he seemed to despise it.

And you wondered if there was a way to get him to learn to love it again.

You shake your head, pushing the thought away. It wasn’t your job to turn his frown upside down, so to speak. It was your job to make sure the bakery was successful as it’s Head Baker and that’s what you intended to do.

- - - - - -

The weekend came and went just as quickly and now you find yourself standing in the kitchen of the bakery with Nanami as the sun barely begins to rise over the city. You pile your notebooks onto the large metal table in the center of the room. Nanami reaches over, taking the notebook sitting atop the stack.

“Are these your recipes?” He asks, flipping through the pages.

“Yep. These are some pastries I created on a whim. I was thinking we could go through and select what you like, maybe tweak some so that they fit more of the vibe you’re going for with the bakery. Or are there any pastries you’d like to keep from the previous owner?”

Nanami’s dark eyes shoot up from the notebook to look at you. You hold his gaze, trying to find anything behind those eyes aside from the clear hatred he holds for this bakery, but you don’t. It’s frustrating.

“No,” is all he says.

“Okay…well, we can start from scratch then. Let me know what you see that you may like.”

Nanami replies with something between a grunt and a hum. “I’ll review a few of these and will follow up. If you want to get comfortable and organize the kitchen to your liking, go ahead. Please try and have a sample pastry ready within the next few hours.”

He turns to go into his office without so much as a look back.

You sigh, trying to get used to this silence you were sure you’d be working in everyday whether Mr. Nanami was there or not. You couldn’t wait to establish a menu so you could bring staff on. At least then you wouldn’t feel so alone.

You wander through the kitchen with a notepad, looking through all of the smallwares and jotting down what you see in case you need to place an order. There seems to be many of the supplies you need here already and in good condition - spatulas, mixing bowls, flour sifters, icing tips. The bakeware also seems to be well supplied with an array of bread pans, muffin tins and cake pans. This place was fully stocked as far as you could tell.

You shuffle over to where three mixer appliances sit on a counter against the wall, setting your notepad down to inspect them. They’re a little older, but they turn on and mix just fine. You’d bet they mixed better than some of the newer models. You decide you’ll keep them.

As you lean one of the mixers over to check its condition, you find a small booklet lying underneath the stand. You pick it up, gently setting the mixer back down before you open it to inspect it. It’s a tiny black leatherbound journal with very faded gold lettering in a language you definitely don’t know.

And you? Well, you’re nosey as hell, so you carefully peel back the cover, taking in the elegant writing etched onto the first page.

To my baby boy

There’s some strange writing scrawled beneath this in what looks like English letters. You can’t really tell, but it seems to be some message in whatever language this is. You turn a couple of pages and let your eyes roam over what’s written within. The rest of the pages you can read fairly easily as they’re in English. You can see immediately that these are recipes. The booklet is full of pastry dishes, both sweet and savory. They appear to be foreign pastries and you feel your heart race with excitement as you imagine making them because while you were adventurous with your baking, you’re positive you haven’t tried to make any of these.

And Nanami did want to sample your baking, so why not give him something he’s not going to see in your portfolio?

Eagerly, you begin moving through the rest of the kitchen equipment, taking out what you need to begin.

- - - - - -

The kitchen is full with the smell of fresh dough baking. The quiet hum of the ovens working calms you as you sift through the recipe in the booklet you’d found earlier. You decided to make one of your original creations while also trying your hand at this new mystery pastry in case Mr. Nanami liked both…or one…or none. Shit, you didn’t want to imagine him not liking either.

You stare down at the ingredients already in the mixing machines.

“Alright. So, water, 2 large eggs, a teaspoon of salt, unsalted butter, active dry yeast…” You read through the remaining list of ingredients until you reach the end. “And now…flour?” You squint down at the notebook, the words scribbled messily on the paper, time having faded the ink. You can’t really make out the measurements written out. It looks like 2 ½ cups. You’ll try it and hey, if it doesn’t work, you’ll simply adjust the recipe to find the right mix. Easy.

Just as you’re sorting through the measuring cups, Nanami emerges from his office with your journals, mouth set in its usual hard line as he makes his way to you. He sets the books down, and you swear you see him inhale the sweet scent of the pastries currently baking in the oven before softly exhaling. You open your mouth to say something before quickly shutting it because he’s back to business in about .02 seconds. You really can’t read this guy, so you don’t try to. You redirect your focus back on to your task.

“These look good,” he tells you, his finger tapping on the book stacked on top. “I placed a post-it note on the recipes I think may work for the soft opening, but I’d like for you to make a sample of them beforehand. Maybe just a few a day.”

You nod, acknowledging his request but far too focused on scooping your guesstimate of flour. Nanami eyes you carefully, brown eyes staring as you carefully run your finger over the top of the flour. The excess falls carelessly onto the table and just before you pour it in, Nanami speaks, his voice halting your movements.

“What are you making now?”

“Hmm?” You ask, glancing over at him. “Oh, something called…” you peer down at the booklet, “Wee-ner-brod?” You’re one hundred percent positive you butchered that pronunciation, but how do you even pronounce ‘wienerbrød’?

Clearly Nanami knows because he surprisingly lets out an amused chuckle before he asks, “Wienerbrød?” With what you assume is perfect pronunciation. And you’re not sure why, but the sound of his deep baritone laugh makes your stomach twist in a strangely pleasant way.

“Yes! That!” You point to Nanami with your free finger. “I’m making…” you stumble your way through the pronunciation again and get another small laugh from Mr. Nanami which makes your own lips curl up in a smile.

“I didn’t know you knew how to make Danish pastries.”

“I don’t, but you don’t learn without trying.”

“True. What step are you on now?” Nanami asks curiously, coming up to stand next to you. This close to him, you can truly see just how large he is. Not to mention, he smells incredible. You ignore the way the mix of the aroma of baked goods and his cologne almost makes your eyes want to roll back. You’d never smelled something so tantalizing before.

Nanami calls your name and you clear your throat, trying to re-focus.

“Oh, um…well I’ve added mostly everything and now I need to incorporate the flour - about 2 ½ cups.”

“Your calculation is off.” He affirms gently, eyeing the measuring cup in your hand.

You snort, “Are you suddenly an expert in Danish baking or something?”

“I can throw a few things together.” He says and you peek over to see him rolling the sleeves of his very nice (and probably very expensive) shirt up to his elbows. Your eyes roam over, drinking in the sight of those thick veins that you couldn’t get out of your head over the weekend protruding from his forearms, the way his muscles flex with the slightest movement and you wonder for a moment what it would be like to grab onto those arms while he –

“As I was saying,” Nanami’s quiet voice interrupts your reverie. “2 ½ cups is close, but you actually need 2 ¾ cups for this recipe.” He reaches in front of you to grab a ¾ measuring cup and again, you’re assaulted with the scent of his cologne. Your mind erupts with thoughts of nothing appropriate for an employee to be thinking about their boss, but you can’t help it!

You blame it on that damn smile of his and that laugh. It’s thrown you off of your game.

Nanami takes the measuring cup you’re holding and replaces it with another. “You also need to use your hands to mix this.”

You might faint.

“Is that…” you lick your lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “Is that completely necessary?”

Nanami slowly adds small amounts of flour into the mixer bowl while kneading with his other hand. “It’s time consuming, of course, but it allows for more control over the dough. You can feel the dough's texture…if it’s too dry or if it’s too wet. From there you can determine if more water or more flour is needed.” You watch as his brows furrow in concentration, a little surprised by his knowledge around dough. Though it shouldn’t be surprising given that he grew up in this very same bakery. Of course he’d know.

And once again, your stomach does somersaults.

Damnit, he was definitely going to need to stay out of the kitchen if you were going to stay employed here.

As Nanami continues working through the recipe, you chat idly about general things. He tells you a bit about his time as a businessman, but doesn’t elaborate on what exactly led him to own a bakery. And you tell him a bit about yourself, trying to keep the conversation light as this was the most you’d both interacted since your interview and you’re surprised by how well it’s going. You don’t want to ruin it by poking and prodding.

As the conversation goes on, you watch him very carefully as he works the dough, ignoring the way your heart races watching him do the very thing you do almost daily.

“The end result should be somewhat sticky,” he states.

And oh god, something was getting sticky alright…and it lay between your legs. Your eyes are glued to the bulging muscles of Nanami’s forearms working the flour into a thick doughy substance between his large, thick fingers. Your gaze moves up his stupidly sexy arms, to his biceps straining against his shirt and you imagine him flexing so hard, it rips to shreds, falling in tatters to the floor. The cartoonish image almost makes you want to laugh. And you would have if your eyes hadn’t continued their journey, higher to his tight shoulders moving in circles as he presses his palms into the dough. Higher to the tension in his jaw, the muscles rippling as he grits his teeth with focus. The kitchen suddenly feels unbearably hot and you’re not sure if it’s the ovens running causing the temperature to rise or the view in front of you.

Nanami had never mentioned he knew how to bake. But why would he? It was your job to know. You also never thought to ask after the sour note your interview ended on despite you still being offered the position. You could not stand him upon first meeting and now here you were practically drooling into this batter over how incredibly sexy he was when he was baking.

Nanami slowly pours flour in again as he kneads the dough with expert precision. The way he grips it in his hands, the way his fingers deftly sprinkle flour into the mix. You wonder what else those big hands can do.

The oven timer dings and you snap out of your lewd thoughts, pretty sure sweat is forming on your forehead from your fantasies. You spin around quickly to slide on oven mitts before you pull the pans from the oven. You’d chosen to make miniature fruit tarts with a vanilla pastry cream. A simple recipe, but absolutely to die for. Setting the tray down, you return to Nanami’s side just as he finishes kneading the dough.

And you try to hide the frown pulling at the corner of your lips when you realize you’d lost your perfect view.

He moves to the sink to wash the remaining dough from his hands, returning with plastic wrap to cover the mixing bowl. “I hope you weren’t planning on completing that today,” He says before turning to head toward the walk-in refrigerator. When he emerges, you shoot him a questioning look.

“I was going to let the dough rise for a few hours while I worked on some other things.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but shakes his head. “For this dough, you need to do a long rise for the best result. Overnight is best.”

“Okay, you’re the expert Danish pastry baker apparently,” you tease, earning you another small chuckle from him and you feel your face heat up at the sound.

What is with you today?

“How did you come up with the idea to make Wienerbrød anyway?” He questions suddenly. “Just seems a bit random given what recipes you’d given me to review.”

“Oh!” You rush back over to the mixers excitedly and grab the booklet, holding it up for Nanami to see, a wide grin on your face. “I found this under one of the mixers. It has some strange language I can’t read in the front of it…I’m assuming it’s Danish? But some delicious sounding recipes from what I could understand when I skimmed through. I decided this would be a good idea to take myself out of my comfort zone to try something new.”

Nanami takes a step forward, squinting hard at the little journal in your hands. Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly and he snatches the book from your hold. He opens it to the first page, where the foreign message is scrawled down before he snaps the book shut, his lips pursing in displeasure.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs in clear irritation. “Next time you find something that is very clearly a personal belonging, please bring it to me before you take it upon yourself to poke through something that isn’t yours,” he snaps, his voice clipped.

The shift in tone takes you aback.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Mr. Nanami. It just seemed to belong to someone who knew their way around baking so I–”

“I didn’t ask for the reasoning behind your nosiness,” he cuts you off and you feel your own irritation begin to slowly rise. “Is this a habit of yours? Digging through people’s belongings and taking things that aren’t yours?”

You scoff, folding your arms across your chest defensively. “If you’d let me finish, I’m trying to apologize –”

“I don’t want an apology. I want you to show up here, bake and leave. Not spend your time digging through someone else’s belongings.”

You inhale sharply, trying to gather your thoughts. This conversation has taken an unpleasant turn and the last thing you want to do is have a blow up with your boss. You feel like you’ve actually made progress with him today and this feels like a setback waiting to happen.

“Again, Mr. Nanami, that wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to try something new. I had no idea this book…” you wave your hand in his direction. “...would be such a sore spot for you.”

At this, Nanami seems to bristle. “My sore spot,” he stresses the words, “is nosey employees who don’t just do the job I asked them to do. I asked you to make a sample pastry –”

“And I did,” you cut him off, gesturing to your tarts cooling on the table. “And I had enough time to try my hand at something new, which is why I wanted to try something new and present it to you.”

You sigh when Nanami meets your response with silence.

“What’s the issue here? You had no problem with helping me make this until you saw that book,” you say, pointing at the small black journal he holds. Your gazes lock in an intense staredown and even as Nanami annoys you, you can’t help but find his frustratingly pretty brown eyes completely mesmerizing.

Ugh, stop.

“The issue,” Nanami stresses, “is you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Excuse me? It’s just a recipe book. Why are you so upset about it? Is it yours or something?”

“Again, poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Mr. Nanami, with all due…respect,” you grit out the last word because he was really starting to piss you off, “if we’re going to be working together as closely as we are, there needs to be some trust here. It’s just a recipe book. I apologize for overstepping, but you can tell me why referencing this book to make Weenerbrod is such a big deal.”

You could swear you see the ghost of a smile on his lips just before he rolls his eyes, correcting your pronunciation of the pastry again, just as he turns his back to you. “You are my employee, I am your employer and that’s it. My helping you to bake a simple bread does not make us friends. Please complete the sample pastries I requested of you and we can reconvene once they’re finished. End of discussion.”

Nanami heads to his office without another word, slamming the door behind him.

You can only watch him disappear from your sight, seething. Left standing in the kitchen alone after yet another faceoff with your new boss, you’re suddenly reminded of your earlier conversation with Shoko.

Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?

You resist going after Nanami and giving him a piece of your mind, instead following his instructions to finish your samples. You won’t push him. Clearly that little book meant something to him and he had no intention of sharing. And he was right. It wasn’t your business to know…

…But you can’t help feeling upset that the light mood of earlier is now gone.

You sigh, ignoring the pit in your stomach as your anger begins to subside. Instead, you move to the walk in refrigerator, gathering the ingredients to make the vanilla cream for your tarts.

Your mind is still racing with the conversation that just took place even as you mix your ingredients and pack the cream into the icing decorating bags. You realize for the first time since meeting Nanami that he wasn’t only this stoic tyrant that enjoys barking orders. He was someone with interests, someone with depth, someone who clearly enjoyed the art of baking the same way you do. You saw the look in his eyes as he guided you through making this pastry. And while you’ve barely known Nanami, you’re familiar with the look on someone’s face when they’ve participated in their passion. He looked…happy. Clearly, there’s more to Nanami than you know.

More to him than what he was willing to show you. For now.

You’re annoyingly positive.

Shoko’s words make you roll your eyes as they echo in her head. Because you know she’s right.

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wh0re43van · 10 months

Text

Boyfriend pt 3 (Warren Lipka X Reader)

Word Count: 3k

Summary: You wake up at Warrens house, then finally indirectly break up with your boyfriend.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of Warrens wounds from the fight, mentions of weed

A/n: Okay y’all, i think this might be the last part. I could probably continue this for another part or two if i really wanted to. (i have a couple rough ideas) but I’m probably gonna focus on other fics.

Pt 1, Pt 2

As I open my eyes, I’m startled for a split second, not recognizing the bed I’m in or the ceiling I’m looking at, but the familiar scent of weed and the sound of a bong bubbling while a Green Day CD plays in the background reminds me that I’m at Warrens house. I sit up in his bed, the t-shirt of his that I’m wearing hangs off me, still smelling of his cologne.

“Well good morning sleeping beauty,” Warren says between coughs, I sit up in the bed yawning.

“Why’d you leave me,” I frown, looking at the cold spot next to me where Warren fell asleep last night.

“Well, I waited for you to wake up for like an hour, I got bored,” he laughs, standing from the couch then walking to the bed, bong in hand. I smile at the boy in front of me. His disheveled brown hair that’s falling into his bruised face, the white tank top that hugs his torso snug and his grey sweatpants that don’t leave much to the imagination. “Does this make up for it?” He hands me the glass and the lighter.

“Only if you go get me some water,” I smile sweetly, accepting the bong.

“Anything for you,” he winks, making my heart flutter as he turns to walk up the steps. I take a small hit from the bong before laying back down on the bed, watching the smoke I blow out cloud above my head and dissipate into the yellow light in the ceiling.

‘How did I get here?’ I think to myself. Just last month I had a routine. I was comfortable- albeit bored. I knew what every day was going to consist of, there were no surprises. I woke up, smoked, then either went to work or went to Dakota’s house. If I went to my job at the library, I had a set task list; the exact same every day. If I went to Dakotas, we either went on deliveries or argued because he’d been cheating on me again. Sad, I know, but that’s how it was, and I was fine with it. Everything’s different now, not in a bad way though. Warren invaded my thoughts and my heart as soon as we reunited, and I don’t think he intends on leaving anytime soon. I’m grateful for him. He’s made me see that life can be exciting-and messy. I’ll never be able to think of sex the same for the rest of my life, regardless of what happens with us.

‘Us,’ I think to myself. ‘What are we?’ Are we friends with benefits? Is he seeing other girls? He wants me to break up with my boyfriend, but I don’t even know where he and I stand. I’m going to break up with Dakota- for many reasons- but, do I really want to jump straight into a relationship again? Is that what Warren wants? Will he lose interest once I’m single? Regardless, I don’t want whatever me and him have to end; That’s the only thing I know for sure.

“Here you go, beautiful,” Warren interrupts my thoughts, his voice bringing a smile to my face as he hands me the glass of water.

“You’re so chivalrous,” I giggle before taking a sip of the cold water. Warren crawls over top of me and flops down on the bed, laying on his back with his toned arms crossed above his head. He smiles and sighs, turning his battered face to look at me with heavy eyes.

“What?” I giggle, unsure of why he’s staring. His grin stays plastered on him as he shakes his head.

“Nothing… It’s just if you had told 13 year old me about this past month, I would have never believed you. How did I manage to get the most beautiful girl in Fayette County in my bed, wearing my shirt…only my shirt?” he says in a dreamy tone as he props himself up on a bruised arm. I can’t help but blush at his words. He knows exactly how to flatter a woman.

“Oh stop,” I giggle. “You’re quite the looker yourself,” I smirk as crawl on top him, sitting on his stomach. “You look really good in this wifebeater with your busted lip,” I run my hand up his chest and to his face, brushing my thumb over his healing abrasion. He brings his strong arms to my hips, leaning into my hand on his face. “You look dangerous,” I wiggle my eyebrows, smirking. He laughs as he flips me over so that he’s hovering above me, he slips his hand under the t-shirt I’m wearing, ghosting over my bare core.

“You have no idea,” he whispers lowly in my ear before nibbling on my neck, sending electric shoot through my entire body.

“I don’t think that I thanked you properly for defending my honor,” I smile, before pulling the shirt up and over my body, leaving me completely bare underneath him. His eyes scan my body as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.

“This view right here is thanks enough,” his sultry tone resonates in my ears as he runs his busted knuckles over my curves, leaving goosebumps on every inch of skin that he touches.

“I have a little bit more to offer,” I smirk as I sit up, shoving him on to his back. He watches in anticipation as I settle between his legs. “I gotta say,” I purr slowly as my hand ghosts over his crotch. “You looked really hot fighting for me,” I smile through my lashes as I slide my fingers under the top his waistband.

“And I’d do it again, especially if you’re my reward,” he brings a rough hand to my cheek, pushing my hair out of my face as he stares bullets into my soul. I’ve always adored his dark eyes, the color of freshly brewed coffee; bitter yet comforting. A single glance from the man below me is enough to make my core ache.

“You know Warren,” I begin as I slowly pull his sweats down, holding his gaze. “When you look at me like that, you could get me to do absolutely anything you want,” I say before biting my lip in anticipation as I slide his boxers down to reveal his semi hard cock awaiting my attention.

“Mmm, I could say the same thing about you, darlin’,” he groans out, his deep voice sending chills down my spine straight to my core. I spit into my hand before grabbing his cock, pumping it a few times to fully wake it up. He hums at the contact, his body relaxes as he lays flat on his back, laying his arms above his head. I cup his balls in one hand and his base in the other as I slowly sink my mouth down on him until he hits my throat, earning a low moan from the back of his throat.

“You always treat me so well, baby,” Warren groans, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure. I begin to bob my head up and down on him, hollowing out my cheeks. “Mmm, atta’ girl. Just like that, beautiful,” he sits up to watch me gag on him; a feeling that I’ve grown to love. Every ounce of praise he gives my goes straight to my stomach, fueling the butterflies that are erupting. His eyes, dark with lust, gaze down at me. I lose myself in the moment. His moans and words of praise fill the room as he repeatedly thrusts against the back of my throat. My jaw starts to go numb, but I ignore it; The site of Warrens face contorted in pleasure and the compliments falling from his blushed lips is worth every ounce of pain.

I see his hand go the night stand, picking up my vibrating phone. I pull away from him, catching my breath as he puts the phone to his ear.

“What do you want?” he asks with a sly grin before gently guiding my head back to his erection. I’m confused, but I obey and slip him back into my mouth. “She’s right here, but she’s a little busy at the moment,” he smirks into the phone.

‘Oh god. It’s got to be Dakota’ I think to myself as I kitten lick around his tip. I hear him raise his voice on the other end of the line.

‘Yep. It’s Dakota,’ I think I hear him ask warren to put me on the phone, followed by some curses. Warren laughs as he thrusts deep into my throat, making me audibly gag.

“She can’t talk right now man, her mouths a little preoccupied,” he winks at me, my cheeks burn red. I can tell Warren is enjoying this- maybe a little too much and I hate to admit that I also find this situation extremely hot, so I play along. I take his entire length into my throat, past my gag reflex until my nose is nestled against the small patch of brown hair decorating his skin.

“Fuck! Just like that baby,” he moans loudly, chuckling into the receiver. He begins to thrust deep into my throat, groaning in pleasure. “What’s she doing?” He laughs breathlessly as his free hand uses my hair to hold my head in place as he violates my mouth. “Mmm, I’ll spare you the details, dude,” he says, his stupid grin not leaving his face. I can hear Dakota cussing Warren out. His eyes focus on me as thick strings of spit drip from my mouth around him as he fucks my throat, my gagging filling the room. Warren uses my hair to pull my head back, spit rolling down my face as I gasp for air. He holds the small phone up to my mouth. “Do you like gagging on me y/n?” he asks I nod my head still trying catch my breath. “Use your words beautiful,” he says with the biggest shit eating grin, using his eyes to motion to the phone.

“I fucking love it,” I say breathlessly, a smirk falling across my own face as my knees becoming weak from how aroused I am. With that, he shoves his cock back into my mouth.

“Holy fucking shit,” he growls in a way I’ve never heard before as he drops the phone on his chest, Dakotas small voice still shouting on the other end of the line. Warren grabs either side of my head guiding me up and down his cock a couple more times.

“Fuck, just like that, baby. I’m cumming,” Warren groans as he releases deep into my throat and onto my tongue, I lap up every last drop, pulling away gasping again. “Did you swallow all of it, darlin’?” he asks, panting as he wipes a tear from my cheek. Dakotas frantic voice still chirping through the small plastic brick.

“Yes sir,” I giggle opening my mouth, sticking my tongue. Warren smirks, grabbing my ass to scootch me up to him. “Good girl,” he says against my lips.

“Warren!” I hear Dakotas infuriated voice boom from the phone. Warren laughs holding it up to his ear again. Dakota bellows every slur, insult, and curse word I’ve ever heard through the cell until Warren cuts him off.

“Yeah that’s why I fucked your girl,” he laughs loudly, his shit eating grin plastered proudly on his battered face. “Bitchass cuck!” he shouts before ending the call, tossing the phone to the side.

“Warren, what was all that about,” I giggle as he attacks my bare skin with kisses and love bites.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.” He pants against my skin. “Turn over, beautiful, I’m not done yet,” he slaps my ass, standing to remove his tank top, his dick still hard as ever. My stomach flips as I get on my hands and knees on his bed. He comes up behind me, pulling me to the edge of the bed, using his hands to spread me open. Wasting no time, he licks a long strip across my core, earning a whimper from me. “You taste so sweet baby,” he coos before inserting a finger inside of me. I whine at the contact. He begins pumping his finger inside of me. “You really liked that, hm? You’re soaked,” I can hear the smirk in his voice, all I can do is nod my head as he curls exactly where I need him most.

“Fuck Warren,” I whimper, desperate for more of his touch.

“You’re so fucking stunning,” he runs his hand down my back and over my ass, admiring my body while he slips another finger inside of me, I whine in response. It’s strange the kind of affect he has on me; With one touch from his hand, I’m soaked. I’m so pathetically attracted to this man, I’m almost ashamed. He fuels a lust deep inside of me that I never even knew was there. No drug is any match for the way that Warren can make me feel.

“Fuck me, Warren,” I whimper out as his fingers pump into me. “Please, I can’t stand it, I need you Warren, please,” I plead in a way that I’d never imagined I would beg a man.

“Anything for my girl,’’ he coos, pulling his fingers out to lean down and place wet kiss on my lower back, nibbling at the skin, sure to leave a mark.

‘His girl’ the phrase fills my heart with joy.

Soon, I feel Warren slowly pushing into me. His hand reaches up, snaking gently around my throat as he pushes deeper and deeper into my sopping wet cunt. I let out the unholiest of sounds as he stretches me out.

“Fuck,” my voice comes out shaky and desperate as he begins to thrust into me.

“Holy shit, you’re so fucking perfect,” he groans, his grip on my throat tightening as he pounds into me. He slaps my ass, making me gasp loudly. He rubs his hand gently over the stinging skin. “This is mine,” he growls lowly, then he wraps his other hand around my torso, pulling me up to so that my back is flush against his chest as I rest my knees on the bed. This new angle allows him to hit even deeper inside of me, making me see stars. I lean my head back on his shoulder, my eyes rolling back in their sockets. He grabs my face and ducks his head down to pull me into an intense kiss. His tongue explores my mouth as he pounds my pussy into oblivion.

“You’re all mine,” he growls against my lips, his grip tightening on my throat a bit. My knees go so weak that his arms are the only thing holding me up, keeping our sweaty skin pressed together.

“Fuck Warren,” I pant out, barely audible. The rubber band that has been tightly winding in my stomach snaps, sending ecstasy to every cell of my body. My walls convulse around him while he continues to thrust into me mercilessly. “That’s my girl,” he groans lowly in my ear, reaching down to rub my clit to encourage my orgasm. I come completely undone around him, my body begins to shake as I scream out his name, the pleasure almost to much when he reaches his own release. He pumps me full of his cum, fucking it deep into me as I clench around him. His warm seed drips out of my cunt around his cock as he rides out his orgasm, surely leaving bruises underneath every fingertip gripping my neck. He finally slows down, pulling out of me before picking me up with shaky arms to lay me gently on the bed. I lay with my eyes closed trying to catch my breath, a sweaty puddle on the disheveled bed. Warren lays down beside me. “I’m sorry, was that too much?” he asks sincerely, placing a loving hand on my stomach. I open my eyes, turning to look at him.

“Are you kidding,” I giggle weakly. His worried expression quickly matches my own. “Warren that was amazing,” I crawl up to lay on his sweaty chest, his quick heartbeat is comforting as it rings through my ears.

“You can always tell me if I do something you don’t like,” he says honestly as he traces circles on my back, using his other hand to run his fingers through my hair.

“Warren Lipka, you know that you can do no wrong,” I giggle as I snuggle further into him. He laughs lightly, the room is filled with a comfortable silence.

“Hey, how ‘bout we get cleaned up and I take you to that new cafe that opened up in town?” He offers. I sit up to meet his gaze, he has a serious expression on his bruised face.

“What? Like… like a date?” I smile a bit sheepishly. He smiles right back.

“I’d sure like it to be,” he says hopefully. My grin stretches from ear to ear as I stand from the bed, tugging on his arm.

“Well, come on then. I don’t want to go on our first date with your cum dripping down my leg,” I laugh as I pull him into the bathroom.

“Hm, I don’t know. Sounds kinda hot to me,” he chuckles as he closes the bathroom door behind us, pulling me into a deep kiss before he turns the shower head on.

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