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dev1lm4n · 9 months

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lesson one: sensitive

ko-fi | series masterlist

pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader

summary: under several notable circumstances, mr. miller finally decided that he'd be the best teacher for your first debut into sexual activities. even when all of it is to prepare you for your successful date.

word count: 5.4k (i know.. i went a little crazy on this lol)

warnings: explicit (18+), set in 2013, pre-outbreak, age gap (joel in mid 30's and reader in early 20's), inexperienced but not dumb reader, fingering, he's kinda mean, check umbrella warning on series masterlist

notes: i had so much fun writing this! tbh this one is super filthy compared to the other one so.. forgive me 🤲 COMMENT n REBLOG if u liked it

“I could take you home if you’d like. Pretty girls like you shouldn’t roam the street alone.”

Simon, more commonly referred to as Robotic Class Guy or French Fries, was surprisingly not half as bad as you thought he would be. He had all the height of a man but none of the bulk. From behind he could be easily spotted as someone in their late teens to early thirties, mostly blaming his horrid graphic tee and skinny jeans combo, but when he turned that face was all boy. His caramel hair flopped over his eyes in the way no office worker could get away with and on his wrist were bracelets in woven leather.

At first, you accepted his awkward invite out of spite.

Just to rid yourself of a certain plague festering upon your head, feasting on your brain cells so that you’d think of nothing but Mr. Miller in all his glory. Him with his tight worn-out jeans, spread open enough that you could see a naughty peak of his bulge, while he watched the soccer game. Him with his shirt off, bathing in the summer-induced moisture, while he mowed the front lawn and edged the curb. Him with his thumb parting your lips, looking at you like he’s about to consume you alive, but of course he didn’t.

At least now that Simon came around, you’d have a new port to anchor your boat on.

“No, thanks, I’m alright. My..”

Who was Mr. Miller to you again?

Your.. father? Absolutely not. Even if he’s taken you in as a part of the Miller family, just like how he used to say, you would feel like it’d be morbidly repulsive to deduce him to that particular role. For fuckssake, you stick a finger up your cunt every single week to the thought of him fucking you like one of his girls.

Then would a family friend be better of a word? Or should you just say that he’s a guardian of yours? But that’d be confusing, wouldn’t it? You glanced at your watch, counting the hour and minute hand as if it’d give you a revelation on how to answer Simon’s pop quiz.

“Someone promised to pick me up.”

That sure did sound ominous.

With a promise to leave a message to his cell once you’ve returned home safely, you stepped out of the quaint local restaurant. It was warm outside and you weren’t particularly fond of that. Heat has always been your mortal enemy; something about the musty scent of middle school boys’ armpits after PE class mixed in with the pungent perfumes they use to try and hide it has left you permanently traumatized. Your once-cheery mood had long evaporated along with any semblance of coolness. You tugged at the hem of your sundress, fanning yourself with your hand in a futile attempt to find relief from the stifling heat. This is hell!

Where was Mr. Miller?

Mr. Miller must've read your mind, because a honk quickly resonated. He was on the very corner of the parking lot; his large pickup truck looked hilariously out of place when compared to the array of city cars parked by his side. You swore you could see him grin from behind the shaded tint of his window, perhaps entertained at your almost too obvious annoyance. The thought made your heart jump and maybe even did a front-flip. God, you’re helpless!

As you beelined down the sidewalk and on to him, the heat seemed to intensify with every step. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, causing your hair to stick in weird shapes. You just hope that his truck’s AC works.

“Hi.. Hi, Mr. Miller.”

“Hey, sweetheart. How was it?”

The nickname never ceased to exude so much power. ‘Sweetheart’ made you feel as if a tail had grown out right from the hilt of your ass and you had no other choice than to swish it around excitedly. You propped up one leg on the washed-off gray carpet, before swinging yourself into the vehicle in one go. The door closed behind with a loud thud. As you leaned back, you cringed at the feeling of your sweat-soaked dress clinging onto your skin. You felt like some marinated beef, sticky and in need of a quick shower.

“It was alright,” you hummed.

“Alright? Now that made me all the more curious,” he grinned, nudging your side with the edge of his elbow. “Com’on now. Tell me all about it, will ya?”

“Mr. Miller, are you trying to embarrass me?”

Mr. Miller’s soothing brown eyes that were stuck on the glittering street lights came flickering over to you, as if he’s actually afraid that perhaps he’s made you uncomfortable. His shoulders squared and his jaw slackened for just a split second as he tried to grasp for any nuance you’ve just given. You then smiled at him, relieving him of his worries.

It’s a little jarring to say that you think he’s quite cute. In the same way people find puppies cute, or those strawberry-shaped trinkets. He’s a little socially-awkward in his own way. Embarrassed to ask the waitress to bring his plate back, but would be confident bullying his cock into a tight cunt. Would definitely get kooky when asked to join a parents-teacher conference, but would whisper filthy things on the internet.

“I ain’t tryna make you embarrassed,” he huffed out. “I just wanna know you’re safe.”

How nice. If only he knew why you went on dates in the first place.

“He’s alright, Mr. Miller. Kind, decently groomed, respectful,” you replied, flicking through your Twitter feed mindlessly. “Better than most college guys.”

“Did he pick you up?”

Your forehead scrunched up. “I ordered a cab.”

“Did he at least get the door for you?”

“It’s not exactly the 1900’s, is it?” you quipped back at him.

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for your answer.

“If you’re that curious, then no.”

“Well then, did he pay for dinner?”

“No, well.. I did offer for us to split it,” you reasoned.

“Well, sweetie, he’s not too respectful. Is he?”

“Yeah.. but he’s cute.”

He’s cute and you’re desperate to get over Mr. Miller. Terribly so. At first, the entire situation with having your pornstar crush be the head of your host family was hilarious, it’s a joke written by itself. But then the desires went through the roof in a matter of weeks and you’re sure that you’d actually jump him one of these days. He’s attached to the back of your mind like some ghostly presence. Everything he said and done carved at your brittle wall of determination and one day it’s all going to fall apart like broken glass. You needed to stop it from happening.

There was a minute or so where he didn’t have anything to say. He hadn’t let go of the handbrakes either, though he appeared to be squeezing the leather cover of the steering wheel tighter.

“Cute ain’t enough for a man, sweetheart.”

Mr. Miller finally pushed down the handbrakes and released the pickup truck from the small parking lot. His large hands skillfully turned the wheels to fit through the tiny gaps, guiding the vehicle towards the open road. You shut your eyes for a good minute, then you let out a weighted sigh. Almost as if you’re a deflated balloon.

The drive was going to be a long one, considering the restaurant you’re on was in the heart of the town and Mr. Miller’s humble abode was more towards the outskirts. Would he continue preaching about the importance of Southern manners and being a gentleman? Because if he did, perhaps you’d just shut him up with a kiss.

“I’m just a little nervous,” you broke the silence.

“Because of the boy?”

“Sorta, yeah. It’s my first time..”

You clicked your phone shut, stuffing it on the cup holder next to the car stick. The entire conversation was making you nauseous. You had to press on the button on your left to slide down the windows in order to take in fresh air. Through the open window, a gentle breeze tousled the top of your hair, carrying with it the familiar scent of Summer in Austin. As he drove closer into the outskirts of town, the lights gradually faded behind into a sea of twinkling stars.

“First time in what?”

“In all this,” your hand motioned the idea abstractly.

“You’ve never dated?”

An enthusiastic grin snaked its way to his lips.

“I have! But it’s not- it’s not real. It’s middle school romance. We meet each other in the hallways, hold hands and giggle about it, then go on pizza dates,” you tried to explain. “I’ve never dated properly.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” you tousled your hair in frustration. “Just because, Mr. Miller. I’m not sure either. Maybe I’m just comfortable in my own little bubble?”

“Then this boy.. What’s his name again?”

“Simon.”

“Right, Simon. Are you thinking of dating Simon properly?”

“Maybe,” you muttered.

“Maybe I could teach you,” he paused. “Well, that is if you’d like this old man to teach you old tricks.”

Your hands tightly clutched the edge of your seat. A rise of bile disturbed your throat's peace as a knot of anxiety started to form in your stomach. This is what you’re working towards.

You didn’t want to admit it, because admitting means legitimizing what you had in mind, but you were hoping for him to offer you help in any way that he felt was right. Despite your.. odd relationship with him, he was your guardian and you’ve seen the way he dealt with all Sarah’s problems with soft-spoken words and fair actions. You trusted him to help you delve into this new world of adult romance, but it’s not like you’re expecting for him to agree on it. Shit, shit, shit! You couldn’t think straight.

“Com’on then. Tell me what you’re so nervous of.”

“You’re gonna laugh at me,” you groaned.

“I’m not!”

“You are,” you persisted.

“Fine. I promise not to laugh.”

You took a deep breath. The single word sticky on the end of your tongue.

“Sex.”

The pickup truck swerved.

To your surprise, instead of howling and laughing at your lack of experience, he was quiet. Awfully so to the point where you think you’d rather have him laugh at your patheticness instead of giving you the cold shoulder. You rolled the window back up, giving him your full attention as you waited for him to do something. He looked tense; the grip he had on the steering wheel was so tight you could see the leather developing crescent-shaped marks. What was he thinking of?

“Do I.. do I have to give you the talk?”

“God, no! Mr. Miller, I’m not clueless,” you looked horrified that he even considered giving you the birds and the bees talk. “I am, but I know what happens.”

The hours you’ve spent analyzing each and every one of his videos surely made an impact on how you view sex. Perhaps not the most accurate one, since you were merely looking through a 720p video and not being present in the scene, but you knew how sex goes. How it starts, what arousal looks like, what appears to feel good and what doesn’t, and how good an orgasm looks like when induced by another person. Mr. Miller might not be aware of how much he’s taught you. Not directly, but in a cause-and-action kind of way.

“Then what are you afraid of?” he hummed.

“Making a mistake,” you muttered dejectedly. “Of it not feeling good.”

A beat passed.

“Do you..” he struggled to speak properly. “Do you want me to teach you?”

What were you thinking! It was one thing to harbor intense, disgustingly filthy feelings towards a man who perceived you as an addition to his family, but it was another thing to act on it desperately. Your mind reeled back towards the exact moment when you agreed on his proposition. How you agreed on it instantly as if it wasn’t even a question, how you nodded your head miserably as if you were afraid that you’d miss this one chance, how you buckled your knees at the thought.

God, how pathetic can you be! You didn’t remember much after such a cathartic turn of events. All you managed to compile in that pretty little head of yours was that he took a different interchange, then slipped onto a highway towards.. whatever this place was.

It was on the outskirts of town. Opposite to where he lived. Big trees grew tall and heavy as they provided a mystique veil for the trailer house. You remembered the shade of peeling paint covering the outside, sky blue. The lanterns provided ample lighting for it to be spotted from a distance, but not enough to attract rowdy attention. Mr. Miller told you to come inside first while he secured his pickup truck properly. He mentioned a thing or two about racoons or squirrels, but you were too high off adrenaline to even notice. Being in the property, you instantly knew where you were.

This was his lair.

Where he shoots his videos, where he invites all his pretty co-stars to make them moan and whimper about how good his cock felt and how deep it went, where he edits those striking millennial-core thumbnails. Your throat grew dry and you began to think if it’s time to bail. He’d understand, wouldn’t he? Mr. Miller would just take you home and forget about it. Then, by next summer, you’d be out of his hair and he’d never even think about it.

A creak sounded from the front door. You jumped.

“Hi, sweetheart. You okay?”

You nodded. Your entire body went cold, especially the tips of your fingers and toes as you saw him come close. One step at a time. Almost as if he’s trying to make sure he doesn’t scare you too much. Mr. Miller looked awfully big up close. You never seemed to notice this entirely when you see him around the house, but when he’s confined in this miniscule trailer house, he looked massive. His presence towered over every last bit of your confidence. It’s surely crumpling - your confidence - slowly dissipating into thin when he was flushed against your chest.

“I’m okay, Mr. Miller.”

He pulled a foldable chair from one of the open compartments, before taking a seat on it. He spread his legs, as always, and had this look in his eyes.

“You sure you wanna do this?” he paused, before resuming. “You could tell me you don’t feel like doin’ this anymore and I could take you home. Won’t talk about it anymore if you don’t wanna.”

“I.. I want to do this, Mr. Miller.”

“Are you sure? There ain’t no pressure in this. I’m simply here to help you, sweetheart, so if you feel like-”

“I get it, okay, I get it. I trust you. A lot. And I know you’d be the best person to teach me.”

What were you even saying? This was straight out of your wildest wet dreams and perhaps that’s why you’re so adamant about it. You watched silently as he contemplated his choices. Mr. Miller scratched his beard for a short while, his gaze focused beyond you and you could almost watch in real-time how his morals and values crumbled onto the creaky floorboards. He stood up from his small chair and headed right towards where you were standing idly. Is this what May felt like in those videos?

“Alright, sweetheart. I ain’t a vocal man so this is gonna be challenging even for me,” he chuckled gruffly. “Every man has their way of settlin’ with their ladies, but I like ‘em stripped off their clothing first. So will you be a pretty thing and do that for me?”

For a second, you were as still as a rock. Entirely not used to having the person who initiated many if not all of your orgasms giving you these orders in real life. He’s right there in front of you, flesh and bones, telling you to strip off your clothing. It felt like a fever dream. You must’ve had a weird look on your face, because a grin started to form on those chapped lips of his.

Conscious of the mistake, you quickly reacted. Almost skittishly in a way as you pulled on the zipper that’s located on your right ribs. Your fingers fumbled with one another, as if it’s been braided into one, but you managed to loosen it after a few attempts. You slipped your right arm under the spaghetti straps, before you slipped the other one. The only thing holding your modesty together was your one arm that’s holding onto the support-less front flap of your sundress.

“Com’on now. It’s just me. You can act shy and adorable around Simon, but not this old man,” he teased.

You nodded, hesitantly letting your arms fall to the side. The terribly warm weather encouraged you not to wear a bra. Although you wondered if 3 PM you knew that you’re going to be engaging in some promiscuous agenda this evening. You looked up into his eyes for some kind of guidance, in which he responded with a curt nod, before you tugged on the dress so that it’d slide onto the floor.

Now the only piece of modesty you’re wearing is your plain white panties. Your breasts were entirely exposed, cold nipples firming up as it reacted to the change of temperature. This is embarrassing! Mr. Miller was being incredibly methodical in the ways in which he approached the situation, lacking sloppy mouthy kisses and feverish touches.

“Smart girl,” he complimented, almost on instinct. “Let’s get on the bed, yeah?”

You moved adjacent to him. Mr. Miller was gentle when he patted the spot next to him, allowing you to settle down properly while he fixed a pillow behind your back. To think that you’re positioned on the same bed where you’ve witnessed him please an array of girls made you feel some sort of way. A hitch in your heart, a twitch in your hole. You’ve never witnessed him this gentle. He’s always fond of establishing the power he held on the dynamic he’s presented, always telling girls what to do in quick succession and calling them humiliating names if they fail to do as told. With you, he was sweet and rather funny.

“In my experience, one of the things girls like the most is to be withdrawn from control,” he spoke up into the thick air. You didn’t miss the way his eyes cruised along your beaded nipples, or the way it watched you with feral precision. “Of course, it depends on the person. But you. I think you’re a sensitive one, are you?”

You nodded obediently.

“Cross your arms behind your back,” he ordered and watched closely as you followed suit. “Lean back onto the pillow.”

You copied his order. Only then did your finicky brain finally compute that you’re limited off your movements now. With your body weight acting like paper weight for your arms, it’d be impossible for you to react in quick time.

“Good girl.”

His mindless comment made you tighten your thighs together.

“I’m gonna touch you, okay?” he whispered gently. You could watch how he’s slowly approaching you with much caution. His arms caged you in as it dug into the tangled sheets next to you. He’s testing the currents, making sure you’re fully consenting to the experience before he makes any mistake that might ruin your perception of sex. “Ask your little friend to touch you slowly. None of that frisky aimless touching. If he pulled on your nipples and called it a day, I’d leave his ass.”

This little routine he had, the one Wicked Fantasies had, was memorized into your head and to watch it take place right in front of you made you ecstatic. He caressed the side of your face. Gently even with those big, large fingers of his, he managed to take up a good portion of your cheek. Mr. Miller then made his way to your lips. He swiped it once over your upper lip, then another time over your thicker bottom lip. You’d anticipate for him to stick his thumb in deep enough so that he could see your uvula properly, but he didn’t. Instead, he settled on pressing down your tongue as if to pin it against the lower floor of your mouth. A good amount of saliva was collected that when he pulled away, a lewd string remained intact.

“Do you know why I like pinning a girl’s tongue down?” he queried to increase comfort in a way.

“No,” you whispered breathlessly. “Why?”

“It makes ‘em docile,” he muttered. “Encourages submission and I like a pretty girl who listens.”

Mr. Miller’s fingers dragged through the curves and texture of your warm skin, leaving goosebumps on his wake, before he finally reached your two perky nubs. Each one hardened before he could give them the treatment they both deserved, which in a way broke his routine, but instead of being irritated, he appeared to be pleased.

Girls in his videos weren’t as sensitive as you. They didn’t get riled up just by a little touching and teasing. Seeing you like this was a refreshing touch. One that made the wrinkles on his forehead ripple as his eyebrows quirked. He circled his calloused finger around where the pigmentation started. Once, twice. Right until he was merciful enough to press against the apex of your nipples.

You squirmed.

“So sensitive, are you?” he cooed. “Tell Simon to play with your sensitive little nipples, hm? You look like you could cum just by this.”

“O-oh please!”

“Please?”

You couldn’t respond. Not when he’s rolling the most sensitive part of your nipples between the pads of his thumb and the side of his pointer finger. Touching your breasts with your own nimble hands felt nothing like what he’s doing right now. You instinctually grinded your leaking pussy down onto the bed, almost like an animal in heat.

“Poor thing couldn’t even tell me what she wants. What would Simon think, hm? A girl with no self control like you,” he hummed. Mr. Miller quickly held onto your thighs so that you’d stop rocking onto the bed and getting off from pleasure he’s not offering. Your eyes met his, searching for help, but the sweet and respectful Mr. Miller wasn’t there anymore. “Alright now, sweetheart. You have ta make sure that you’re thoroughly aroused before thinkin’ of even touchin’ this place.”

“You’re new at this,” he hummed. His fingers slipped off the hold he had on your nipples before it slid down your stomach and settled precisely above your clothed clitoris. “It’s gonna hurt bad if you’re not properly lubricated. Sex is supposed to be fun, not painful so if some guy tells you that it’s supposed to hurt, don’t listen to his dumb shit.”

Mr. Miller was incredibly informative if you put aside the fact that he’s touching you in all the right places that it’s making you go dumb. He spent the time explaining why an action must be provided and how to perform it, when you know for a fact that this is not what he’s used to doing. Wicked Fantasies was known to be straight with words, using minimal sentences to provide his co-stars with just the right amount of information. You could tell he’s holding back the urge to be meaner, to act the way he likes, just for you to be more comfortable.

“Let’s take a look, shall we? You think I did a good job, darlin’?”

It’s dark out. There’s only one source of light that’s present in the room. A small bedside lamp in the shape of an elephant, Sarah’s favorite animal that’s grown to be yours as well. This session with him felt intimate; you’d expect for him to bring out the bright light panels and reflectors just like in those videos you watched of him, but instead, he mostly depended on the moonlight rays.

You were acutely aware of how those dark eyes of his mirrored your own. The way he studied you was unlike any other, not with an invasive intent, but rather with heed. You watched as he hooked his fingers on each side of your panties. Slowly dragging it down, only to stop to wait for you to ease your thighs upwards.

“Look at you,” he chuckled. “I’m right about you bein’ sensitive. Don’t think we need any lube when your pussy looks like this.”

By instinct, you brought your thighs together, shy that he’s observing you with such vulgar intensity. He hummed out a tone of disapproval and quickly placed his arms on both of your knees, prying the two apart as if he’s opening a stubborn can of bolognese. You bit your bottom lip, stifling the noise of embarrassment.

Anxiety bubbled up inside of you. You wondered if you looked okay down there - no other men had seen it besides him! - or if there was something strange that caused him to halt. There was a lewd string of sticky arousal pooling on the center of your panties. You silently watched as it stretched and broke as Mr. Miller pulled the thin fabric away.

“You’re soaked, sweetie,” he teased.

“Mr. Miller, that’s- that’s embarrassing..”

“You like to touch yourself, don’t you?”

Your eyes flickered towards his direction in fear. Has he discovered your incurable obsession for him and his erotic videos? That couldn’t be, could it? There’s no scientific correlation between being extremely aroused with masturbation as far as you’re aware, but the confidence he exude made you doubt yourself. Mr. Miller moved in a painfully slow tempo, taking his time to caress your inner thighs and stomach before even considering touching you where it ached. His calloused fingers felt different against your skin. It left a fiery trail in its wake.

“No, I don’t,” you lied with a breathless squeak.

“It’s okay if you like to touch yourself, y’know,” he whispered as if taunting you. “Girls who like to touch themselves understand themselves better.”

Mr. Miller finally touched you properly. His pointer finger probed against your clitoris, touching in the lightest feathery manner possible that you couldn’t have felt it if you weren’t concentrating. Your hips followed the brief source of pleasure, only to be disappointed when you notice that he wasn’t there. He pulled his finger close to his mouth and made a big show out of it. The way your arousal glistened under the pale moon rays, Mr. Miller teased you with his expressions and mannerism. He dipped the stained finger in his lips to have a good taste while keeping eye contact.

“Please touch me.”

“What was that, sweetheart?” he hummed.

“Please touch me again. It feels go-”

You were cut off immediately when he lazily drew a perfect circle on top of your hooded clit.

“Fuck, please, please, sir.”

Ah, he liked that. He liked the new name you’ve granted him. Mr. Miller was kind enough to resume what he was doing. His finger descended down onto your throbbing hole to gather a good amount of slick before he brought it up to aid his ventures.

“The best way to feel good is controlled pleasure. It feels better to be denied than to receive boring continual pleasure, so..” he paused his movement all together. “I’m gonna teach you a little game.”

“A little game..” you sounded like you’re about to cry from his sudden withdrawal.

“Count to ten, properly. Then I’ll reward you with more. If you fail, then we gotta start from the very beginning,” he explained. His warm breath fanning over your sensitive clit. “You think you can do that, pretty girl?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll start now.”

“One, two..”

You felt how he made his laps around your nub. It was much more intense than the pleasures you’ve initiated before. Compared to rutting against a pillow, grinding against a bedpost, or laying under the tub’s running water, this felt like an entire new experience. You fought to keep still, but it’s gradually getting harder when his finger starts prodding against your tight little hole.

“Three, four. Please, Mr. Miller. Oh god,” you whimpered by accident. He didn’t like that one bit by the look he gave you. There weren’t rules and promises to this, no dynamic the two of you have agreed on, but you couldn’t help but be terrified of his disapproval. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sir.”

“From the start,” he ordered.

“One, two, three..”

You could barely remember the numbers in your head despite encountering them almost every day of the week. You’re a smart girl, knows your ways around things, but being touched by Mr. Miller makes you go all dumb.

“Four, five, six..”

Your thighs began to twitch and spasm. You catched the way he pulled back the hood to your clit to get a more direct touch. It was working wonders as the sensation now is a lot more electrifying. Arousal dribbled down your twitching hole and onto the crack of your rear, wetting the sheets beneath you with the sticky clear substance.

“Seven, eight, n- nine!”

You jutted your hips out when his fingers brushed over your clit once more, the sensitive bundle of nerves extra aware of his presence, and he managed to hold you back once more. He’s forgiving. You knew he’d punish his co-stars if they couldn’t stay still like you, but he let this one slide. He continued rubbing slow, tight circles only to alter into an eight shape.

“Ten.”

The ultimatum. It has arrived, your key to heaven.

“Smart girl,” he cooed, never actually stopping. “This little hole of yours looks neglected, hm?”

“Yes, pleasepleaseplease.”

“Touch your clit slowly like I taught you,” he ordered. “You can do that can you, sweetheart?”

You nodded, distraught and ruined. With his sweet permission, you pulled one arm out from your back and rested it right above your clit. Slow and steady. Just like how he ordered. Mr. Miller on the other hand was slicking up his pointer finger with his tongue. Fuck, that looks so god damn hot.

He had pressed his sole finger deep into your warmth with no hesitation whatsoever. The combination of his calloused finger against your walls and the golden freckles inside his narrowed irises had you reaching out for his forearm. Your nails came in contact with his skin as you dug upon it, crescent shapes formed in pinkish shades atop his skin. You had to sit up as the only way you’re getting through this is by leaning on his sturdy arm.

“Oh, you like that, huh? Filthy girls like you love to get their holes filled?”

What you didn’t expect was having him press a second finger in. His one finger was thicker than what you’re used to, but two fingers? That makes you an overachiever for sure. You looked up to meet his eyes frantically. You knew he wouldn’t be kind enough to withdraw the action when his mind is already set on it, but it was worth the try. He cocked his head arrogantly as he pursued his plans. Mr. Miller’s middle finger was a tight fit. Barely able to slip past the ring of muscles. Though when he did manage to get himself in, a loud moan escaped your lips.

“Mr. Miller. I can’t- I’ve never- never taken two fingers!”

“I know you can do it, sweetheart,” his free hand went over to run over your sweaty hair, admiring every inch of you. “You wanna please that boy, don’t you? Little Simon?”

He was skillful with his fingers, perhaps from his job requirements. Although it’s still incredible how he managed to have you squirming, yelling how you’re about to cum in a matter of seconds. All he did was switch between pumping the two in you, creating the filthiest sounds, and reaching upwards to hit that certain spot of yours. You rubbed your clit with much concentration as you followed after his thrusts.

“Mr- oh.. Mr. Miller! I’m gonna cum, sir.”

“You’re gonna do that for me?” he grinned, pushing his fingers into you as deep as they could go. He maintained a steady pace, emphasizing pressure on that spongy spot up top that you’ve never managed to reach with your stubby fingers. “Pretty girl gonna cum from my fingers?”

“Yes, yes.. sir. Please.”

“Cum for me, darlin’” he whispered. “Show me how good you can be.”

Oh god, you're in a lot of trouble.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #tlou #tlou x reader #the last of us x reader #the last of us #tw age gap

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lxclerc · 9 months

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𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔

summary… charles tries to help his girlfriend study but that proves to be difficult when he doesn’t understand a single thing requested… yes! warning… none. pure fluff.

note… another old drabble request from the graves of my inbox. also as a med student, i adore this idea so much

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

charles has never been the brightest tool in the shed when it came to academics. he supposes it comes with the occupation. growing up, he cared far too much about racing that he had no space left in his mind to care about school too. he was always meant to be a formula one driver so he never cared about the cell or the mitochondria.

ironically, you were the exact opposite. like him, you’ve known what you were meant to be the moment you got ahold of your first book. you’re going to be a doctor, a healer and you’ve dedicated yourself to that dream.

the human body is a beautiful machine, much like the universe. every little cell and atom circulating its vessel holds a purpose, creating a balance between life and death. it’s majestic, truly and a little bit scary. if one thing failed then the entire system could collapse and so you studied and studied and studied for ways to keep that system going, to cure ailments and diseases.

you thrive off academic validation and a minor superiority complex and yet somehow you’re the most anxious person charles has ever met.

he’s madly in love with you. this is a fact. him and his dream that required him to constantly put his life at risk and you with your dream of helping and saving people. really it was a match made in heaven. and charles is madly madly in love with you.

that’s the only reasonable explanation as he pulled himself out of his sim practice, seamlessly moving around the kitchen of your shared apartment as he prepared an ice coffee for you.

you’re drained and you’re on the verge of breaking down and so when he wrapped his arms around you and offered to help you study for your finals, you’d all but cried in gratitude.

no, charles leclerc didn’t care about the cell and mitochondria and but he cares greatly for you and so he’d study it if it meant you’d finally allow yourself to rest.

unfortunately for him, you’re way past learning about the mitochondria. instead you’re studying your worst enemy aka pharmacology.

“angiotensin receptor blockers prevent vasoconstriction and aldosterone release, causing a decrease in blood pressure and peripheral resistance,” you recite from the top of your head, still looking like you’re on the verge of tears but slightly better.

charles shook his head as he held the book you’d given him to help you study, his glasses on. “non, non, amour. it says here it’s ‘angiotensin receptor blockers selectively bind to the angiotensin I receptors in the blood vessels to prevent vasoconstriction and in the adrenal cortex to prevent release of aldosterone then lead to decrease in BP caused by decrease in peripheral resistance and blood volume.’”

you sigh again but couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped you. the first time he did it, you’d gotten frustrated but at this point, your brain is far too fried to even get annoyed at him. especially when even he looks like he’s about to start crying.

you pushed away the book from his hand, clumsily crawling over to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pushing him down so he’d be laying on the sofa and you on top of him.

“my love, i don’t need to memorize everything word for word from the book,” you explain as gently as you can for the third time. you know he’s just trying his best to help you.

“why?” he frowned. “wouldn’t it be better if you knew it exactly from the book?”

you giggled. “perhaps but no med student would ever survive memorizing twelve inch books word for word. we’d simply all break down and die.”

you hold yourself up, pushing his hair off his forehead before removing his glasses. he still looks confused but a lot of things honestly confused charles. thank god he has a smart girlfriend to explain everything to him.

“stop worrying about it,” you say. “i’ve studied enough and we both need a break.”

he sighed in relief, tightening his arms around you. “thank god i felt like my brain was put on a pressure dryer for a minute there.”

taglist: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @sebsdaniel @strelcka @writing-about-current-obsessions @amsofftrack @lostinketterdam @bisexual-desi @cialovessirlewis @multilovebot @lovelynikol16 @troybolton-14 @ohthemissery @dr3lover @myescapefromthislife @sunf1owerrq @the6ccnsp6cyy @t-nd-rfoot @navixfr @xjval @gridbunny

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x you #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 one shot

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orphicwitt · 3 months

Text

YOU DON'T DESERVE THIS FATE

note; yes i somehow got into poppy playtime fandom and here a little treat.

You were exhausted, scared yet you continue to push foward. Shaky hands gripped onto your shirt, wrinkles formed on the battered dirty used to be white fabric.

you wanted to leave the moment you step into this place, your very gut screamed to get out while your logical side of your brain begged you to leave and don't go further.

but you didn't, you ignored every red signal that was present to you. you continue foward like it was nothing, it was your own action and you once questioned yourself.

do you regret being here?

the answer was, ...Maybe

one side of you regret setting a single foot here yet the guilt consumed your very being, it haunt you to the bones. you hated it, you want to get rid of it, to relief it, to ...

Focus! you thought, shaking your head. you are getting distracted from your main task, the longer you take. the more time you are forced to stay at this damn wretched place.

you came across an area, an area that look like a prison cell judging by the numerous cell that was littered and sat beside each other.

as you look around the place, a voice spoke. scaring the shit out of you, "you... you're poppy's angel" the voice was raspy yet sounded so tired, you turn around to look for the voice, only to be horrified to see who's belong to.

it was a smiling dog mascot, hanging, you guess it was dogday due to you encountering his cardboard. "come to save us" the mascot wheezed out, it sound like it was taking a toll on him heavily just to speak.

well... he only has half of his body afterall, dear god. it must be so painful for him just do the simplest thing.

"nothing left to save,..."

"not here"

you furrowed your brows, progressing the dog mascot's word. before you could let out any words, dogday continued. "you're in catnap's home, angel... their home"

their home? is he referring to the little smiling critter version of them? you guessed so.

"a million pairs of eyes are on you, now" dogday lifted his head up trying to meet your gaze, gosh. you will never get over how some mascot are just giving you creepy vibes.

"watching, waiting, hungry. they want nothing more then just to crawl beneath your skin, and eat away at you bit by little bit..."

now that's just... you shudder unintentionally at his word, well. your not letting yourself to become food or basically fresh meat to them also not him aswell.

dogday took a short intake of breath before he continue "and fill what empty inside themselves." he then fully face you, "that ...thing... catnap" you take notice of his change of tone when he mentioned catnap, a lingering of fondness yet so distant.

"the prototype is his god"

"and this is what he does to heretics, these little toys... they followed catnap to avoid that very fate...- and in return, they are fed"

"we tried to fight it, the prototype control."

"i'm... the last of the smiling critters" he then look at you, despite his endless depth of darkness eyes and the never ending wide smile, you could tell he was desperate.

"listen to me angel, you need to get out of this place" this time you spoke up, "without you? i don't think i can do that" you huffed, crossing your arms.

"angel... you don't have to, i will only slow you down-"

"Dogday, i'm not leaving you, not on my watch." you stubbornly stated, even he was half of catnap's size without legs, you don't want to leave him, to die in an endless painful toture. you wanted to save him, it was the least thing you can do after defeating huggy wuggy and mommy long legs.

you shakily curled your fists up, you didn't mean to kill them but can they blame you? you did it out of self defense yet you still feel terrible. you wish you can save all the toys.

from this mess.

from this toture.

from this pain.

"you can say all you wanted but i will state firmly that i won't leave you behind." after saying that, you went to set him free. it took some time as well firing some flare to keep those nasty little smiling critters away from attacking.

although you doubt you can carry him but you still tried it away, oddly successful and huffed as you stood up with dogday wrapping himself around your form.

"angel... are you sure this is not heavy for you? i can-"

"i am doing very wonderfully, dogday. don't mind it" it was a flat lie, he was heavy by dear lord. but you endure it for him.

"thank you, you're ...really are a angel in disguise."

"you're welcome, now Off we go!"

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #x reader #dogday #smiling critters

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risuola · 4 months

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MISERABLE — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

Satoru hated the way he would recognize you always, even if just by the taste of your tears.

cw: angst, husband Gojo, hurt/barely any comfort, brief physical abuse, blood mentioned, verbal abuse mentioned, borderline toxic relationship, general sadness and sorrow — 2,6k words

a/n: the spontaneous pour of my brain, the angstiest parts of it are the most active during the night... could this be tied to too much? idk, maybe

“Do you think we could ever be happy?”

The question cut through the silence of the evening like a knife, reaching your ears and mind in a way that made you hum. Your hand not even for a moment stopped the gentle motion of brushing through the soft hair of a man whose head was resting on top of your lap. The gesture automated and yet still somehow warm, still filled with emotions that over the years remained unspoken.

“Do you think we–, no, I could have done all of this differently?”, Satoru asked again, his tired gaze fixed on the golden ring he kept between his fingers. The band that sealed your love at the altar nearly five years ago. One that you took off for the first time since you vowed in front of him, promising him your heart, body and soul till the end of days.

“I’m not sure if we were meant to be happy,” you told him quietly, keeping your hand occupied by the snowy strands. The words made your throat clench the moment they left your mouth; your voice cracked just slightly at the end of the sentence. You felt your body aching from the intensity of the feelings, like all of your cells were suddenly on fire, your heart bleeding inside your chest as if the knife was stabbed right through it.

“You think so?” His voice stayed low, nearly whisper-like as he was taking in what you said. “Were we supposed to be miserable?”

“I don’t know, Satoru,” you mouthed, not much sound leaving your lips.

Your hand felt light, distressingly so, you hated the sensation. You knew this was how it had to end, you knew that the time would come to part ways with your husband, but nothing could have prepared you for the heaviness of it. You felt it all on your shoulders, weighing you down as if the entire world just collapsed and rested on you. Suddenly you felt like things as trivial as breathing became exhausting, there was not an ounce of certainty in you, not a single drop of the belief that you will be alright without him. Satoru was a part of you, he was like a vital organ without which you felt like you won’t be able to live further. But, at the same time, that very organ seemed to kill you slowly, seeping poison right to your bloodstream, hurting you time after time. A disaster. You two were a disaster.

“I’m really sorry,” he breathed out after few moments of suffocating silence. “You deserve the world that I couldn’t give you.”

“I never wanted the world,” you denied, your head shaking just slightly as you allowed your knuckles to brush against his cheek. “You are my world, Satoru. I never needed anything else. You are all I want, you are everything that my heart loves.”

“And yet, I fucked even that up,” he chuckled. A bitter undertone felt nearly palpable as it echoed in the empty area. Satoru knew it was all him. Hurting you time after time, he never thought of it until it was already said and done and yet, you were always by his side. Every shit he said to you, every word that left his mouth you took and forgave. All he could do was to savor your cries and he hated himself for the way he would recognize you always, even if just by the taste of your tears.

You were an angel, he always thought. You were too good for him, too patient and too forgiving. Even in the heat of an argument, you tried to talk him down from his outbursts. You were the one to hug him tightly to your chest, to press his ear right above your heart even if he stabbed it with his words just a moment before. You showed him nothing but love, and yet that day… Satoru had no idea what possessed him when he clenched his fist during the argument. He feels like he blacked out for a moment, because it’s only after you spit the alarming amount of blood, kneeling on the ground and keeping a strong hold over your stomach, that Gojo realized that he just hit you with the blue infused fist. It felt unreal, he couldn’t believe his own eyes. He felt like his own body betrayed him. Why would he do that?

And then, he was right at your feet, apologizing frantically as you tried to regain your breath, to not vomit, to push the pain away from your thoughts but you just couldn’t. It hurt so much, you felt like all of the organs inside you were crashed after that one, single hit. The taste of metallic covered your tongue, your vision went blurry for a couple of seconds and at first, you couldn’t even hear the repetition of sorrys that was leaving Satoru’s mouth. He was terrified and so lost. Disgusted by his own self, hating the way he lost control over his body and hurt you. Before that, the sight of your tears was something that often kept him up at night. Remorseful thoughts haunted him constantly, but now, he knew that they won’t show up anymore. Now he’ll be seeing your blood, he was certain of it. Now, he’ll be seeing your curled in pain form, gasping for air as the red is gushing from your throat. And he’ll know that he was the reason for it. That it’s him, your husband who should protect you from any harm, who caused your suffering. Even the thought of it felt surreal. Was there any good in him? Or was he just a monster?

But then, you slowly got up. Satoru had no idea how long it took, but you pushed your body up and sat yourself against the wall. You knew him well enough, you knew the state of panic that he was in that very moment and your heart broke at the sudden realization of what’s to come. Inviting him onto your lap, you let your hands wander through his hair, calming him slowly in the silence of your shared home. Then you gave him the ring. Gold, now stained with blood enough to cover the love promise that he had engraved inside the band. The vow that he wasn’t able to keep.

“Please, don’t leave me,” he whispered, knowing it’s futile to ask. You could feel the hot tears dropping from his face onto the skin of your thighs and even though he seemed calm right now, you knew him all too well to know how broken he is, laying there in complete submission to your touch. He wasn’t moving, his gaze was fixed on the jewelry he held in his hand, his eyes studying the I’ll love you forever etched into the metal.

“I don’t want to leave you,” you confessed, still gently caressing the side of his face and his hair. If it was your choice, you’d stay with him till the end of your days. You could withstand the verbal outbursts, the heated arguments – you were a part of them, you had your fair share in the hurtful words, even though you knew how heavily it was bordering toxicity. But that day the line was crossed, and you could tell he wasn’t in the right state of mind when his fist clenched before. For a split second, it wasn’t your Satoru, it wasn’t the love of your life. For that brief moment, it was the strongest sorcerer in the world, the menace, as others call him, a threat. All of your marriage you felt safe near him. The power he possessed he always used to ensure your well-being, you not even once had to fear him because of how gifted he is. He never used his jujutsu against you. Not until that day.

“Then don’t,” a plead. He had no right to ask you to stay, he was all too aware of that.

“I’m scared of you, Satoru…”

You fear him. The sound of these words rang inside Gojo’s head for a good moment, rendering him speechless and you suffocated in the silence. You hated the sentence that just left your mouth, you hated the feeling of frighten that was cursing through your veins. You never felt uneasy next to your husband. Even if it’s right after the argument, you were always certain that if any danger occurred, he’d be the first by your side to shield you from it and he showed that to you many times, protecting you from threats as trivial as you grabbing the hot pan handle. Even in the heat of a fight between you two, he’d be the first to kneel in front of you and kiss your knee if you hit it onto the table. You can speak no words but he’d carry you in his arms from the other side of the city if he knew your feet hurt from walking. But now, how could you feel safe if you know he can be pushed to the point of using his strength against you?

“I…” He began but fell silent as soon as he opened his mouth. How could he even explain what happened to him? How could he reassure you that it won’t ever happen again if he himself wasn’t even sure what made him punch you in the guts? He couldn’t even remember what was the reason for the argument before it occurred. “I don’t know what happened,” he said truthfully. “I feel like I blacked out for a moment, I would never—”

“I couldn’t recognize you for a moment,” you exhaled, closing your eyes. The picture of his face right before the hit flashed against your eyelids. That was the Gojo from the battlefield, not your husband. “But if that happened now, how could I ever be sure it won’t happen again? I don’t want to die by your hand, Satoru, and we both know you are strong enough to kill me in one hit.”

“You’re afraid I’d kill you?” It felt surreal. Was it even happening right now? Satoru’s voice dropped down to a whisper. “Do you think I’d be able to do that…?” He wasn’t sure either.

“I don’t know.”

It was a nightmare. One of those from which Satoru couldn’t wake up, no matter how harshly he would pinch himself. The agonizing weight of reality felt heavy on his body, it hurt physically, it made him want to scream, to cry, to die. What was the point of his life if he couldn’t even keep one person safe? He always prided himself for being a man of his word and yet the promise to love and cherish you till death part you seemed unachievable to him.

“I don’t know what happened. Why my body acted the way it did. But love, please believe me,” he was desperate as he raised from your lap, kneeling in front of you and gently cupping the sides of your face. His touch was almost non-existent, he was scared to put any pressure against your skin but you leaned into his palms. Your fingers found their place around his wrist, smoothing the area softly with your thumb as you looked into the blue of his eyes. There was despair storming inside the ocean of his irises, the depth of fear painting its picture on his features and it hurt you to see him like this. “Please, believe me that I would rather die myself rather than hurt you ever again. There’s nothing I can do now to erase what I did, if I could cut my hand off just to make sure it will never cause you any pain, I’d do that without second thought.”

“We both know it will grow back,” you muttered lightly and he chuckled just barely at the remark. Satoru rested his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses kissed as he allowed himself to close his eyes and you did the same.

“I love you. I can’t go without you, I can’t live without you. You’re everything that I have and I know I have been a shitty husband. We argue a lot, I said so many things that I should never even think of. Fuck, I caused you so much pain… I know I don’t deserve you. I know it’s selfish of me to ask you to stay with me even though I’m the reason for your suffering, but please, please, just give me one last chance.”

“Satoru…”

“Please, let’s change it all, let me fix it,” he was babbling, you could tell how much panic was seeping into the voice that was leaving his mouth. “I’ll change, I will do everything, anything, to make you feel safe. To make you feel how important you are for me, how much I love you.”

“I know you love me,” you whispered, pressing a kiss onto the heel of his palm.

“Don’t kiss that hand, you should hate it,” he sighed. The feeling of your lips on the hand that caused you pain burned him alive.

“I can’t hate any part of you. Even that hand, I love with all my heart.”

“Then stay. Don’t leave me, please, I beg you. I know I’m a handful, I’m terrible, I’m—”

“I knew you are a handful when I married you,” you cut him. “I knew who I’m saying I do to. Even though we fight so often, you never failed to make me feel safe. With all your power, I was never scared of you.”

“If I could give up that power just so you’d know I’ll never use it against you anymore, I would. And believe me, most of the nights I can’t sleep because the sight of your tears is haunting me and now, I know I won’t ever be able to forgive myself for the way I hit you. The blood, the hurt… God, you bled because of me…”

Feeling unworthy of being at the same level as your face, Satoru lowered his head, aiming to back away from you and rest his forehead at your feet where it should be, but you were quick to grab him by the fabric of his shirt and pull him to your chest. Once again, his mind went blank as the calm sound of your heartbeat drown out the hurricane of thoughts in his head. The warmth of your body enveloped him along with your arms as you wrapped them around his figure and out of habit, his own hands snaked your waist. You had the ability to make the world stop, to erase everything that wasn’t just you and him in the universe. You were what he needed to be able to live. No air and water could keep him alive if it wasn’t for your presence right next to him.

“I’ll stay,” the words left your mouth as a whisper but despite the quiet tone, it sounded confident. You were sure of your decision. You were sure of him, there was a lot more to Satoru Gojo than just that one moment and you realized it while kissing the hand that punched you. It got to you that what you felt wasn’t fear of him, but it was a fear of losing him. “But promise me something.”

“Yes?”

“Not today… But tomorrow, let’s sit and talk. About everything. Let’s clarify the things that we argue about, so we won’t need to anymore.”

“I’d love that. I hate fighting with you. You are all I need in life and yet I’m hurting you so often.”

“So tomorrow. We will talk about it all, okay?”

“Yes. Yes, I promise you. The world on fire won’t stop me from taking the time with you.”

“Good… now, let’s just stay like this.”

“Yeah…”

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bosbas · 20 days

Text

Chapter 6: in a world of boys he's a gentleman

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 4.2k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, Eloise being the best, Colin finally having brain cell(s), but then very quickly losing aforementioned brain cells

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

May 30, 1816 – One week has passed since the unfortunate revelation of Lord Barlow’s true nature, and Lady Y/N Montclair has yet to make an appearance at a ball. Could it be that the Duke’s betrayal has left her too disillusioned? Perhaps the eligible gentlemen of London have failed to meet her exacting standards. One can't help but wonder if Lady Y/N be present at tonight’s ball, where the ton's most eligible bachelors will undoubtedly be vying for her attention now that she is decidedly searching for a new suitor. Who among them shall be lucky enough to capture her attention? This author does not know, but hopefully, this evening reveals more of Lady Montclair’s intentions.

Colin was grinding his teeth, his right eye twitching slightly as he glared at Eloise, with whom he had been arguing for the better part of the last hour.

“It’s not like I haven’t tried to be agreeable! She’s just impossible,” he ground out.

Colin was about finished with having to face criticism from his sister when you were the one who had ignored his attempt at a truce.

“It certainly doesn’t help that you rile her up every single time you see her. She’s trying to find a husband, mind you!” Eloise shouted back.

She had grown quite close to you in the past weeks, and she knew the kind of pressure you were under tonight. It was your first ball after finding out the Duke had sneaked away from the Bridgerton ball with Miss Barrington, and your full focus would be on finding a new suitor. Eloise generally preferred to stay out of your neverending conflict with Colin, but she knew he would never understand what you were going through. The very least she could do was ensure that he acted decently toward you, though it seemed like even that would prove a challenge.

“Exactly! I was the one who wanted to warn her about Lord Barlow’s betrayal, and now she thinks I’m the one who gave him access to our courtyard,” snapped Colin.

He couldn’t believe Eloise. How could she not see that you were one of the most infuriating, unpleasant, and insolent people in the ton? Why was she so intent on defending you? Colin was irritated beyond belief, and he wanted nothing more than to never speak with you again after the horse races. You had promptly ignored him after accusing him of orchestrating Lord Barlow and Miss Barrington’s escapade, and he spent the rest of the afternoon angrily stealing glances at you as you chatted pleasantly with his sister.

And to learn that you still wanted to find a husband? You could become a spinster, for all he cared. And he didn’t. He didn’t care. About you or about Lord Barlow, or frankly, about anything that had transpired since the Bridgerton ball. All he knew was that tonight, he would be forced to watch you bat your eyelashes and giggle softly as you talked to countless men when all he got from you were angry stares and sarcastic laughs.

“She’s the one who doesn’t want to be on good terms with me,” he added stubbornly, crossing his arms.

Eloise let out an exasperated groan and rolled her eyes. “Colin! Can you not find it in yourself to set aside your dislike for her and understand that she is an unmarried lady who just lost a titled man she was practically guaranteed to marry? She is in a precarious situation, not to mention feeling heartbroken and betrayed.”

In truth, Colin thought, he didn’t understand. He couldn’t even begin to. He had never faced that kind of pressure before, certainly not about something as trivial as marriage, and suddenly he felt guilty for wanting to spend the entire evening tormenting you so he could avoid watching you amass suitors.

Sensing that her words had struck a nerve, Eloise took advantage of her brother’s waning resolve. “You are Colin Bridgerton, Mayfair’s sweetheart! I don’t understand why you can’t act that way with her.”

“She doesn’t want that! She doesn’t want me!” Colin yelled, pinching the bridge of his nose as he screwed his eyes shut in frustration.

But Eloise didn’t let up. “I’ll wager she wants that tonight. You don’t need to kiss the ground she walks on. Just be civil and refrain from any ungentlemanly conduct. It’s her first ball since the Lord Barlow scandal, and she doesn’t need to look bad in front of a crowd of eligible bachelors.”

“I don’t ever do it on purpose!” he defended.

“You could’ve fooled me,” scoffed Eloise. Then, softening her tone, she added, “Just tonight. Please.”

“Fine,” he relented.

If it was so important to Eloise, he would do it. He supposed he would want someone to do that to Eloise if she was ever in your same position. But he was already dreading the night. He had never particularly enjoyed balls, and he knew tonight would be especially dreadful. Usually, your arguments provided prime entertainment, and if he wasn’t allowed to fight with you tonight, he would just have to endure the monotony of the ballroom without any respite.

---

You drew in a sharp breath as you entered the ballroom, looking around at the crowd nervously. Charlotte placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and led you toward the back of the room. Had she chosen to go to the furthest place from the entrance simply to torture you? You were nervous enough as it was; you didn’t need the added anxiety of having everyone’s eyes on you as you walked through the crowd.

You had opted for an elegant white gown tonight. Well, your mother had suggested it and you had inevitably agreed to wear it.

“It’s meant to look like a wedding dress!” she had exclaimed earlier. “It shows you’re still in the marriage mart despite everything that’s happened, and you’ll have gentlemen queuing up to dance with you.”

Whatever the reasoning behind the gown, you had to admit that it was beautiful. It accentuated your figure, and you could already feel plenty of keen eyes on you and more than a few furtive whispers. Though you couldn’t make out exactly what people were saying, you were sure you heard your name mentioned several times. However, you smiled gracefully at everyone anyway, wanting to avoid being seen as a complete laughingstock after losing Arthur. The Duke, you corrected yourself. He was no longer Arthur to you.

“Y/N,” you heard Eloise’s excited voice beside you.

You turned to see her smiling face and squeezed Charlotte’s hand to let her know she could go on without you.

“Hello, El,” you greeted, smiling wide.

“The balls have been torture without you! I’m so glad you’re finally here,” she gushed, taking your hand and leading you to a less crowded part of the ballroom.

You relaxed slightly. At least one person here didn’t hate you. But perhaps she was the only one. As you kept speaking with Eloise, you realized that not a single bachelor had come to ask you for a dance. Usually, you had to reject quite a few gentlemen within the first few minutes of being at a ball, but your dance card remained empty tonight.

Swallowing nervously, you looked around the room and assessed the gravity of your situation. Plenty of people were staring at you, but no one had moved toward you. Were they waiting for someone else to walk up to you? Did they not want to be the first to dance with you? Or did this mean that Lord Barlow’s actions had well and truly ruined you? Feeling the familiar beginnings of tears forming in your eyes, you quickly started to panic. What would your parents say?

You were trying to focus on Eloise’s words, but all you could hear was your rapid heartbeat, and you were surprised people around you couldn’t hear it, too. Your stomach flipped uncomfortably as you realized that you might have truly fallen out of favor with the ton. The thought made you feel sick. This wasn’t how you wanted the season to go. How you needed it to go.

Just as you were ready to bolt outside in search of fresh air, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Your stomach clenched, and for a fleeting moment, you hoped it was Colin Bridgerton. As much as you weren’t looking forward to the inevitable antagonism you would face from him, and as much as you knew that he wasn’t interested in anything from you other than an argument, the thought of engaging with someone of the opposite gender provided a fleeting sense of relief. Anything to momentarily divert your thoughts from the Duke's betrayal and the disheartening realization of your diminished standing in society. Although knowing Colin, he would probably bring up the subject just to spite you.

However, as you turned around, you came face to face with your brother. A tiny rush of disappointment coursed through you, and you crinkled your face in confusion. It was a disconcerting realization, indeed, to find yourself yearning for the company of Colin Bridgerton, the very individual you despised most in the ton.

Leaning down close to you, Louis asked lowly, “Ça va?” (Are you alright?).

“Louis,” you rolled your eyes and nodded, trying to convince him–and yourself–that you were fine. “Ça va” (I’m alright).

“Excuse me just a moment,” spoke Eloise as she looked between you and your brother. She squeezed your hand and turned around, leaving you with Louis.

You cringed, internally hearing your parents scolding you for speaking French around her. But Louis, unphased by Eloise’s exit, spoke again. “Non, j’suis serieux. On peut y aller,” he insisted (No, I’m serious. We can leave).

It was nice of him to check up on you. But it only left you feeling worse, a sobering reminder that your situation was dire enough that your brother was actually being sweet to you.

As much as you would have liked to, you knew you couldn’t leave the ball. It would only make it worse to flee now. Your parents had already allowed you a weeklong break from social events, and they would be most displeased to find out that you were giving up so soon after your re-entry into society.

So, you steeled yourself, forcing yourself to keep your tone light. “Leave the ball? For me or for you?” you asked Louis, poking him teasingly.

He relaxed upon hearing your light tone, letting out a breath as he smiled down at you. Your parents had asked him to be especially careful with you tonight, and he was left with sickening worry. You were his little sister, and as much as you had your differences, he still thought himself in charge, at least partially, of your wellbeing.

The worst part was that he knew exactly the kind of man Andrew Barlow was, and he was beside himself with guilt that he had even let the man near you. But you seemed to be getting through it, he noted, relieved.

Colin was rooted to the spot across the ballroom, staring at you as you engaged in easy conversation with your brother. How you could be so disagreeable toward him, and completely pleasant with everyone else was absolutely beyond him.

But what really caught his attention tonight was your attire. You were wearing a white gown, and he briefly wondered if that was what your wedding dress would have looked like. He couldn’t help it; you looked positively stunning, and he was angry because he knew if he even attempted to talk to you, you would most likely bite his head off.

Colin jumped as he felt a tap on his shoulder, slightly embarrassed at having been discovered staring at you. He turned around to face his mother and Eloise smiling far too innocently for his liking.

“Colin, go dance with Y/N, please.”

“Can’t Benedict do it?” Colin pleaded. He would do anything not to have to speak with you right this moment. It was far better to look at you from a distance, where he could pretend you didn’t completely despise him.

“He’s dancing with Penelope Featherington at the moment, so no. Colin, it’s one dance!” Violet responded, exasperated.

“It’s not like she won’t have anyone else asking her,” grumbled Colin unhappily. Though, come to think of it, he hadn’t actually seen anyone ask you for a dance tonight.

“Colin,” Eloise pleaded. “If they see you dancing with her, they’ll be more inclined to speak with her.”

Remembering his conversation with his sister from earlier, Colin accepted defeat, mumbling a low “just this once.”

He found himself growing increasingly nervous as he made his way over to you, and he clenched his fists to keep his hands from shaking. What had gotten into him? This was merely a dance like any other. He’d done it many times before, and he could do it with you.

He cleared his throat as he reached your side, drawing you out of your conversation with Louis.

“Not you, too,” you sighed upon seeing him. “I’ve had enough of a difficult time today without your input.”

Colin was momentarily unable to speak, though he quickly recovered. At this point, he didn’t know why kept being so surprised that you thought so lowly of him.

He was not like the rest of the cruel members of the ton, he thought defiantly. And he would show you just how unlike them he was. This was the real Colin Bridgerton, not the insecure, combative version of him that seemed to slip out whenever you were near.

“A dance, Lady Montclair. I came to ask for a dance,” he said patiently, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t act like you’ve got a full dance card,” he rolled his eyes. Alright, maybe he couldn’t completely shake his hostile demeanor.

"Mr. Bridgerton, that is-”

“Please.”

“Why?” came your indignant response.

“We can say we’re both doing it for Eloise if that will make you feel better,” he said, eyebrows raised.

Unsure, you turned to look at Louis beside you, who gave you an unimpressed look and gently nudged you in Colin’s direction.

“Fine,” you huffed.

He let out a breath and reached for your dance card. “Thank you.”

Suddenly, Colin became hyperaware of his surroundings. Every sensation was heightened, and it was almost too much for him to hold your hand as he led you toward the dance floor. He had never had this much physical contact with you, bar the times you had not-so-accidentally stepped on his foot, and he was struggling to maintain his composure.

Your hand felt so delicate in his, and he was actively resisting the urge to interlock your fingers with his. Where had that come from? Why was it that he could never get a grip when he was around you?

Colin was forced back to the present moment as you reached the dance floor, and he carefully set one hand on your waist and used the other to hold your hand, getting into position before the music started playing.

His stomach was in about a thousand knots, and he awkwardly shifted his hand placement, unsure about whether he was making too much physical contact with you. With the way you looked tonight, Colin would have been happy to keep his hands on you all night, but he was sure you did not share the sentiment, and the last thing he wanted was to inadvertently make you uncomfortable. If he was going to make you upset, he would much rather have done it on purpose and off the dance floor. But that’s not what Eloise has asked of him, so he settled for gingerly holding your waist, his fingers carefully touching the smooth fabric of your dress.

Much to his chagrin, Colin stumbled slightly as the music started in an attempt to begin dancing with you. This was not at all how the most charming member of the ton was supposed to act, he scolded himself, cringing. Perhaps it was a good thing you had never agreed to dance with him before this, and that he never got the chance to properly pursue you as a suitor. If merely a turn about the dance floor with you had him feeling so out of sorts, he couldn’t even imagine what kissing you must have felt like.

Except now he was imagining what kissing you would feel like. His gaze suddenly fixated on your lips, and he wondered why he had never noticed how inviting they looked. It would be so easy to simply lean down, ever so slightly, and touch his lips to yours. Perhaps it would cause a scandal, given that you were in the middle of a ball, but he rather thought it would be worth it. Just a few-

“Keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Bridgerton” your sharp voice cut through his musings.

Colin blinked, brought back to the present moment in an instant. It appeared that, in his rather improper daydream, his hold on your waist had tightened considerably. Irritation bubbled up inside of him as he softened his grip. It seemed that nothing had changed between the two of you, after all. His attempts at playing nice had been, as per usual, futile.

“I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the concept of dancing, Lady Montclair, but it necessitates at least some level of physical contact,” he snapped, glaring but still unable to look away from your lips.

Unfortunately, his words were punctuated by another stumble as he fought to stay upright and keep moving to the music, and he had to hold onto you to avoid toppling over.

“What is the matter with you?” you hissed. “Did you never learn how to dance?”

Colin looked down at you, grimacing and expecting to find the furious glare on your face he so often received. But your eyes were elsewhere. They were skittishly looking around the room, and your mouth was settling into a deeper and deeper frown.

He noticed you anxiously chewing on your lip, your hand slightly shaky in his, though you were doing well to hide it. He felt like an idiot. Of course you were uneasy. It was your first dance trying to find a new suitor, and he was making you look like a fool in the middle of the dance floor. Colin felt his own anxiety melt away, replaced by a strange protectiveness he wasn’t sure he was familiar with.

“Just look at me,” he whispered as he twirled you.

You were too anxious to do anything but follow his instructions, and your eyes shifted to him instantly. He looked concerned, and you wondered whether it was concern for you or because he had almost fallen face-first in the middle of the dance floor. Either way, you were grateful you had something to focus on that wasn’t the constant obvious stares you were getting from everyone around you.

But, as Colin twirled you once again, you made eye contact with a man you had danced with on a few occasions. Before you could smile politely, he turned away to whisper something to the person beside him, and your face fell. As you returned to face Colin, you couldn’t help but look over his shoulder to see who would be the next person to prove that you were ruined.

You felt a squeeze at your waist, and your eyes came back to Colin’s.

“They don’t matter. Pretend it’s just me and you,” he said softly, reeling you in effortlessly. “Well, perhaps your sister as well, just in case you attempt to murder me.”

You couldn’t help it, you let out a soft giggle and bit your lip to keep from bursting into laughter. And though you were still surrounded by people surely itching to see you stumble and fall, you felt the rest of the ballroom fading away. As long as you kept looking at Colin, and he kept looking at you, there was nothing that could distract you.

“I haven’t been in England that long, but I’m fairly certain murder is illegal here,” you quipped, smiling warmly at Colin for what was probably the first time.

“I’m fairly certain it’s illegal in every place I’ve been to, but I’m not so sure that would stop you,” he said back, a positively rakish smile on his face. But you were far too distracted by his mention of his travels to notice.

“You’ve traveled? Eloise hasn’t mentioned much,” you said curiously.

“I’ve mostly traveled by myself,” he explained, now completely composed, previous stress forgotten, and finding himself enjoying your company. “My family doesn’t have the same penchant for adventure as me, so I usually set off on my own.”

You hummed thoughtfully. This, you hadn’t expected. Now you knew that you and Colin shared a love for travel, and it was a very unpleasant feeling, indeed. You had spent so long trying to distance yourself from him, and it was slightly disconcerting to know that the two of you had something in common. Especially something so embedded in who you were.

“Where was the last place you went to?”

“Greece,” he answered, smiling down at you. “I came back just before the season started. My mother was quite upset with me when she saw my tan.”

You laughed, perfectly picturing Violet’s hand over her chest as she saw her son after spending weeks in the sun. “You’re mad! If I had your kind of freedom, I certainly would not have stayed in England for as long as you have. Why haven’t you left since?”

“I- I’m not sure,” Colin answered. Why had he stayed so long? Usually, he liked to travel during the summer months, but he had stayed put so far and had no upcoming travel plans. “I suppose I am enjoying the season this year.” Was he really, though?

But you had already moved on to your next question. “The language is quite challenging, no? Did you learn at all? How long were you in Greece?”

Colin could have kissed you then and there. His family rarely showed interest in his travels, seldom responding to his letters, and once back in the ton, no one else bothered to inquire about his time abroad. Thus, he found himself pleasantly surprised by your curiosity, even if it was you—of all people—who displayed it.

As your conversation unfolded, Colin realized he was thoroughly enjoying himself. The effortless banter, combined with the tingling sensation that coursed through him whenever your hand grazed his neck, made him feel as though he were soaring high above the ballroom floor.

What if you had said yes that night at the Danbury ball? What if you had accepted his invitation to dance? Would it have felt as remarkable, as natural as this moment? Or was the allure of having you in his arms heightened simply because you had already rejected him?

Colin supposed he might have fallen for you that very night at the Danbury ball, had the circumstances been different. He could have seen himself, in a fit of romantic fervor, asking for your hand in marriage mere days afterward. Perhaps, then, it was lucky that you seemed to have an instant disdain for him. It likely spared him from acting the fool. Though truth be told, he often found himself behaving quite foolishly in your presence regardless.

As the dance ended, Colin found himself yearning to continue speaking with you. He grabbed your hand in his, feeling much more composed this time, and led you away from the dance floor. But he barely had time to turn back around to face you and continue your conversation before a trio of suitors came up and asked you to dance. Before he knew it, you were being swept away once more, this time on the arm of someone else.

Colin congratulated himself on a job well done as he made his way back to where Eloise stood, deftly declining a gentleman's offer to dance. It was a triumph, he thought, that Colin had gone more than five minutes without arguing with you, and you had even laughed at something he said! It felt far better than whatever hostile rapport the two of you usually had.

“Thank you,” Eloise smiled gratefully at her brother. “Now, was that so difficult?” she added in a teasing tone.

“I will have you know that yes, it was,” answered Colin stubbornly, but he knew he was lying even before the words came out of his mouth. Gliding across the dance floor with you in his arms had felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Even now, as you twirled gracefully in the arms of another, Colin found himself not seething with jealousy as he might have expected, but rather in a state of awe. There was something enchanting about the sight of you, and he couldn't tear his gaze away.

Then, unexpectedly, your eyes met his over the shoulder of your current dance partner, and you bestowed upon him a heart-stopping smile, silently mouthing a 'thank you'. Colin had to feign a cough to cover up the giggle he had just let out. A giggle? From Colin Bridgerton, certified rake? What on Earth were you doing to him?

—

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eoieopda · 1 year

Text

stay (jjk)

“Jungkook,” His name was merely a sigh flying out of your lungs and through your parted lips. “If we do this - if we go down this road - how do we go back?”

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Fem!Reader Type: One-Shot; SMUT (18+ - MINORS DNI) Word Count: 3.1K Content: Best friends to lovers au; rain-soaked jk; fingering; oral sex (f receiving); p in v penetration; unprotected sex + creampie (wrap it before you tap it, homies); reader on top; religion reference, i guess? idk; a sprinkling of praise for zest. A/N: Surprise! This popped into my head while I was waiting for take-out, and now here it is! You can listen to the playlist here, and you can find the morning after drabble here.

You knew better. You both did.

The two of you held joint custody of a single brain cell, and your shared consciousness repeated over and over that this was a bad idea. That the weight of what you wanted would sit so heavily on your shoulders, you’d both drown. But that didn’t stop him from standing on your doorstep at two o’clock in the morning, and it didn’t stop you from answering the door before he’d had the chance to knock.

Without his headlights shining through the blinds you’d forgotten to close, you’d never have gotten out of bed. You couldn’t have known for sure that it was him turning down your street at this hour, but somehow, you felt it.

Maybe you’d manifested his car, willed it to roll to a stop in your driveway when it did. Or maybe that familiar hum of the engine was your siren song, beckoning you towards the rocks. Whatever it was, it had pulled you out of that liminal space between sleeping and waking, all the way to your front door.

And then, there you were – and there he was.

You hadn’t noticed it was raining until he was dripping onto the hardwood in your front hallway. His hair clung to his forehead, and his damp skin glistened under the warm light overhead. His jaw was clenched tightly as he looked down at you. Neither of you could say for sure how he ended up there; but neither of you needed to guess why.

Still silent, you took his cold hand and led him through the living room. With his fingers intertwined with yours, a current of unspoken electricity hummed between your palms. When you took a left at the end of the hall, he was the first to step into your bedroom. He kept walking, too, unaware that you’d stalled out behind him.

You closed the door behind you, even though there was no one there but you, and you leaned against it. Unsure of what to do with yourself, you dragged the toe of one sock across the carpet before crossing one bare thigh over the other. His hungry gaze swallowed every little movement, even in the darkness.

“Jungkook,” His name was merely a sigh flying out of your lungs and through your parted lips. “If we do this - if we go down this road - how do we go back?”

As he crossed back to you, you wondered who put the world in slow-motion. There was an hour between each of his footfalls, and the distance seemed to double with every move he made in your direction. When he finally reached you, he pressed his palms against the door behind you, flush to the wood just above your head. You’d never been more aware of your heartbeat than you were in that moment.

Darkened eyes traveled down the expanse of your face before climbing back up to capture your gaze. He leaned in, close enough to kiss you, but paused. A millimeter away, the corner of his mouth twitched between a smile and a smirk. “Maybe we don’t.”

This was the closest he’d ever been to you, and the farthest apart you’d ever want to be again. The smell of him was intoxicating; you’d bet that it had caused your pupils to dilate, matching his.

Bergamot, nutmeg, cedar, and a hint of spearmint toothpaste.

Still, you were unsure. You couldn’t string a coherent thought together. It was all an anxious blur, and it ate at you. What if what if, what if? Incapable of diving into anything without discussing every conceivable outcome first, you opened your mouth to talk it all through. Nothing came out until his hand found the base of your throat.

He trailed the tips of his thumb and middle finger outwards, dancing delicately across your neck. A moan masquerading as an exhale defied you and filled the great divide between his mouth and yours.

Leaving his hand there, he tilted his head so that his mouth lingered under your jawline. Goosebumps erupted all over your body as his hot breath hit your sensitive skin. Without the door behind you to lean on, you would’ve dropped dead to your knees – but the body pressing into yours would never allow that to happen.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” Though his words came in the form of a whisper, they struck you as a dare. One he must’ve known you'd never take him up on. “Tell me to go home, and I’ll leave.”

The sweltering heat building in your abdomen threatened to set you both on fire; it was starkly contrasted by the growing wetness between your clenched thighs. Your mind was dizzy underneath him, but you managed to say one word out loud.

Stay.

As soon as he heard it, his arms snaked around your waist and lifted you off the ground. You crossed your ankles behind his back and melted into his hold as he carried you to your bed. With the skill of someone who’d practiced this maneuver many times before, he brought one knee to the end of your mattress to keep his balance as his body followed yours down to the cool surface of your duvet.

You fit so perfectly beneath him, like it was the only place on Earth you were truly meant to be.

The only part of your body he hadn’t yet pinned down was your arms. But as soon as you lifted a hand to touch him – anywhere – his hand encircled your wrist and pushed it back against the pillow beside your head.

“It’s not your turn, doll,” He chided you without any real heat. Unconsciously, your lips curved downwards. “You have to be patient.”

Petulantly, you whined. “Could you at least kiss me?”

He raised an eyebrow expectantly but said nothing. He didn’t have to. The look in his eye gave you clear direction, and it didn't waver in the face of your pout.

“Please, Jungkook.”

Never in your life had you begged someone to kiss you. You couldn’t believe Jeon Jungkook - your lifelong friend - was the one to make you do it.

Once again, he leaned over your face, so tantalizingly close and still so unbearably far. “I will,” He promised in earnest, though all you felt on your lips was his breathing. “But I decide where.”

He didn’t stay to see the shocked look spread across your face. Instead, his gaze followed his hand as it traveled down from the collar of your shirt, between your breasts, and over your navel. His other hand joined when he reached your hips. Moving in tandem, they slipped past the fabric you anticipated he was heading for and glided right down to your inner thighs. Gently, his warm palms guided your knees apart.

When his lips pressed briefly and delicately at the material covering your clit, it sent shockwaves through your each and every nerve. Spellbound, you sighed. Mouth flush to your core, you could feel the vibration of his husky voice as he spoke. “Oh, angel,” He hummed before his tongue slipped out to tease you through the damp fabric, “You’re already so wet for me.”

His soft tone could’ve killed you, but the feeling of his fingers on the waistband of your underwear was the final nail in your coffin. The knuckles of his index fingers pressed lightly into your hip bones as they slid under, hooked over, and dragged. You raised your hips to allow him to slide the black cotton over the curve of your ass, and he did - so - agonizingly - slow.

Not soon enough, your underwear was discarded somewhere behind him. Neither of you saw or cared where they ended up.

“Fuck,” He growled as his ravenous eyes ate up the sight of you. “Do you know how gorgeous you are?”

He didn’t give you an opportunity to answer – you couldn’t, even if his question hadn’t been rhetorical – because his face was sinking back down between your legs. Your pulse was racing, and you could feel your heartbeat hammering deep within your ears. It stopped all together when his lips placed a kiss on your clit once more, this time without the interference of clothing.

His tongue slid out and circled slowly around the sensitive bud where his lips had just been. A shuddered gasp spilled out of you before you’d even felt it building in your chest. But he didn’t stay there for long, much to your chagrin. You whined in the absence of his tongue, stopping short when he pressed it flush against you, trailing up, up, up with just enough pressure to drive you mad.

This time, when you gathered enough strength to lift your arm and slip your fingers into his hair, he didn’t stop you. Instead, the slight tug of your desperate grasp seemed to encourage him. Emboldened, his lips surrounded your clit, suckling it, until it was released with a quiet, wet pop.

When the tip of his tongue moved down to tease at your entrance, a sheen of sweat erupted on your forehead. Your eyes screwed shut as you pressed your head back hard against the pillows. You wanted so badly for that tongue to penetrate you, and you ached when it moved back to your clit – that is, until you realized that he was merely switching mediums.

His lips and tongue continued their assault while one long finger glided slowly inside of you. Your grip on his hair tightened while your grip on reality loosened. That blessed finger curled until its tip found the spongey spot behind your pubic bone.

“Oh shit,” Your low moan vibrated in each of your bones. You were so distracted by the way he massaged your g-spot, you didn’t anticipate the second finger being added to aid in the effort. He scissored them inside of you, earning a sharp hiss through your teeth. The pressure of his presence against your internal walls put you into a trance.

He pulled his mouth away so he could look up at you from under heavy lids. “You’re so warm, angel,” His husky voice received a mewl in response. “So tight, too. Can’t even imagine how good you’ll feel when you come all over my fingers.” Another moan pushed out of you as he curled his fingers once more.

With his two fingers pressing further into your g-spot as they pistoned in and out of you, you could hear how wet he’d made you. The sound of your slick, underscored by your breathy moans, reverberated in your otherwise silent bedroom. Your body threatened to give out on you entirely, but you summoned the strength to arch your back as the tightness in your core became unbearable.

“I want you to look me in the eyes when you come,” he said, prompting you to stare up at him through fluttering lashes. “Good girl.”

His praise pulled the thread that led to your unraveling. You made a mess of his fingers as you orgasmed around them, hips bucking upwards into his hand. They lingered inside of you as you came down, riding out the aftershocks that caused your walls to twitch. Gasping and spent, you collapsed back against the mattress.

For the first time since he arrived, the lips that always seemed to hover over yours finally indulged you. You sighed into the kiss and felt yourself returning from the orbit you’d been shot into. When you pulled apart, he placed another kiss at your temple.

“I saw God for a second there,” You laughed, out of breath. “He says ‘hello,’ by the way.”

He smirked as he bumped the tip of his nose against yours. “Watching you come like that was the closest thing I’ve ever had to a religious experience.”

He tilted his head and brought his mouth to your ear lobe, licking it playfully before closing in with his teeth. The surprising sensation brought you back from the dead just in time for his words to knock you prone again. “And I’m not even finished with you yet.”

Jungkook sat back onto his knees and tugged at the hem of your too-big t-shirt. When you made no moves to remove it, he frowned down at you. Raising your eyebrow, you copied the expression he routinely directed at you. “You first,” You dared him.

He rolled his eyes at your attitude, but did as you instructed. He tossed his shirt back into whatever void your underwear had fallen into.

In all the years you’d been friends, you’d somehow never seen Jungkook without a shirt on. For some primal reason outside your comprehension, the sight of his strong shoulders curving into his comparatively narrow waist started a riot among the butterflies in your stomach. You bit down on your bottom lip and sat up underneath him.

As you traced the lines of his abdominal muscles with your fingertips, his slipped beneath the hem of your shirt and began to slide it up and off.

“Goddamn,” He groaned after he finished unwrapping you like a present. He ducked his head down as if he was bowing in reverence. His large, warm hands enveloped your breasts easily like they’d been specifically engineered for this purpose.

When he removed them to unbuckle his belt, they were replaced by wet kisses across the pale expanse of your chest. As he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down, the faintest hint of teeth grazed your nipple, prompting yet another gasp from deep inside you.

The way his mouth felt on your electrified skin caused your eyelids to flutter shut. Tragically, you didn’t get to see the way his cock sprung from beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs before he discarded them entirely. You did see the bead of pre-cum rolling down his head, as well as the wicked glint in his eyes.

“Switch places with me,” He directed you, wrapping his hands around your wrist and helping you up.

You did as he said, and soon, you were perched above him with your knees on either side of him. Though there remained an unfortunate distance between his head and your slit, you were nearly dripping with want. You locked eyes and time crashed to a halt.

His hand pumped at his length without breaking eye contact. “Bring yourself down slowly.”

You lined yourself up, placed one hand on his cock, and teased the tip of it against your entrance. Briefly, his eyes rolled backwards at the feeling of your slick against him. The beginnings of a moan were foreshadowed on his face, though he didn’t make a sound until he entered you.

Suddenly, it made sense why he’d ordered you to take it slow – the width of his cock required considerable acclimation on your part. For a moment, you struggled to catch your breath, but the more you pressed yourself onto him, the more accommodating you became. Soon enough, you’d taken all of him; the lips of your cunt were flush against his pelvis.

“Such a good girl.” His hand reached up, and his thumb swept lightly across your bottom lip. To his surprise, you opened your mouth and closed it around his finger. You felt his cock twitch in response to the wet heat of your tongue. He stared intently, unblinking, as you hollowed out your cheeks; and he let loose with a soft groan when you slowly released him from your trap. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You circled your hips slowly, feeling the veins of his cock as they brushed against your walls. His jaw slackened, causing you to grin mischievously down at him. “I might have a clue,” You teased.

The hands spread across your thigh tensed in reply. His eager fingertips would undoubtedly leave a smattering of tiny bruises across your skin by sunrise, but you didn’t mind. You wanted him to leave a trace so neither of you could deny where he’d been. A breadcrumb trail to lead you back to him once the moonlight disappeared and the moment passed.

When you lifted yourself only to drop back down, you both exhaled curses. Again and again, you savored every inch of him. As you fucked yourself on his cock, his hands slid up your thighs, over your abdomen, and back to your breasts. The friction of his rough palms against the soft skin of your areolas was only rivaled by that between your thighs.

“You’re fucking beautiful, bouncing on my cock like that,” He groaned before his tongue darted out over his lips, “And - shit - those tits.”

Based on the glistening sweat on his collarbones and his tightly clenched jaw, you knew he was close – and judging by the way you’d begun to pant, so were you. When he needed more speed than your weakened knees could produce, his arms wrapped around you and pulled your naked chest against his. Pushing his heels into the mattress, he fucked upwards into you – hard – and oh god, the tip of him nearly kissed your cervix.

You mewled as he slammed into you, unable to do anything else as you teetered at the edge of the world. Your frenzied mouth met his, and you slipped your tongue inside not only to taste him – spearmint – but also to eliminate any cruel distance that had managed to survive this long.

You could’ve lived there forever, but the rubber band pulled tight in your core was on the verge of snapping. His pace never faltered as he pushed you relentlessly past the point of no return.

“Holy sh-shit, Jungkook!” You screamed, arching your back against his arms, shoulders slumping.

Your second orgasm was somehow – inconceivably - stronger than the first, causing your toes to curl and your eyes to screw shut. Every one of your muscles clocked out en masse, leaving your body a shaking, sweating mess on top of him.

The sight of you so completely fucked out depleted what remained of his endurance. His thrusts became sloppy and frantic as he chased after you. Wanting nothing more than to feel his hot release inside you, you brought your lips to his ear and begged him to fill you.

You watched his face as he came inside of you. His head tilted back while his eyes fluttered shut more delicately than yours had. His fingers pressed hard into the bare skin of your back, and when your name tumbled out of his mouth - over and over - it might’ve been the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard.

Once he’d emptied his cock into you, he stayed in that position with his eyes closed. Limp arms barely held up by the hands still holding your waist.

“Kook?” You kissed the pulse point in his neck to make sure he still had one. “You alive down there?”

“Mhmm,” He sighed through a lopsided grin. With his eyes still shut, his chuckle buzzed through his chest, into yours. “It’s kind of funny, you know? I spent years wondering what you’d be like – like this – and I still managed to underestimate you. Damn near scrambled my brains, doll.”

You reached up to his forehead and pushed the sweaty locks away from his eyes with one finger. Without any impediments to his vision, his eyes opened slowly and became fixed on you. For a moment, all he did was blink sleepily up at you with total, peaceful satisfaction written across his features.

His softening cock was still buried inside of you when the corners of his lips turned down. With a sigh, he said it and it killed you: ”You were right about our friendship not surviving this.”

“Seriously?” You scoffed, immediately landing a weak punch on his bicep with gritted teeth. “You couldn’t even pull out before singlehandedly terminating – “

He interrupted you with a kiss, and you saw stars.

“You told me to stay,” He mumbled with his lips still touching yours. “I’m trying to tell you that I’m staying.”

(12/30/22) A/N: Morning after drabble can be found here.

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roosterforme · 1 year

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Batting Practice Part 12 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bob asks you to go out for drinks at the Hard Deck as a thank you for helping out all week, and there's a special someone waiting for you when you get there. After meeting some of Bradley's other friends, the bubble you had been living in bursts, and you're left questioning everything.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing

Length: 3300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

You managed to bumble your way through practice with Bob on Monday, mostly running around in your suit and taking care of whatever he needed. Your phone conversation with Bradley the night before had left you with just a few functioning brain cells, so it was a good thing you didn't need to take charge.

In fact, if you were left to your own thoughts for too long, you started thinking about how wet his voice made you. And you kept picturing the photo of his hard cock that you had shamelessly saved to your phone in a locked folder with personal items such as your tax return.

You felt flustered all week, and to make matters more interesting, Molly surprised you at practice on Thursday.

"I had the day off!" she told Everett, scooping him into a hug when he climbed out of the car. The absence of the Bronco made you frown a bit as you circled your car to where your sister was tickling Everett.

You kissed her cheek. "We had no idea you'd be here!"

She grinned at you as she sent Everett ahead toward the bleachers. "I have a date tonight," she sang in an obnoxious voice. "With Coach Cute Glasses."

"You do?" you gasped, happy Bob had taken the initiative.

"Yep. We're going on a little stroll through the park after practice and then grabbing a late dinner."

"Molly!" you squealed, taking her by the shoulders and shaking her. "Bob is so sweet. Do not ruin him."

She turned to look at him out on the ballfield, and a soft smile touched her lips. "I make no guarantees." You and she started walking, and she held your high heels for you as you changed out of them. "Oh, and actually, Bob has something he wants to ask you, too."

"Me? What?" You had no idea what your sister was talking about, but as soon as you got to the bleachers, Bob came over to the three of you as you changed Everett's shoes.

"Hi, Molly," he said softly, and you watched your sister do the unthinkable. She planted one hand firmly on his chest like it belonged there, and she kissed him on the cheek. You watched him turn bright red, and all of the other moms looked like they were about to reach for their pitchforks.

"Hey, Coach Cute Glasses," Molly said with a laugh that had Bob fiddling with his whistle. "I'm excited for our plans tonight."

Sandra and Tara appeared about ready to rage, looking between you and your sister like the two of you had stolen the most priceless of treasures. But you supposed you kind of had.

When Bob finally recovered, he asked you, "Team Mom? Can I take you out for a drink tomorrow evening as a thank you? I wouldn't have made it through the game last Saturday or the practices this week without your help."

"I'll stay with Ev for you," Molly added, nodding her head. "You deserve it."

"Oh, that's not necessary, Bob," you protested, but then Molly was glaring at you. "Okay, sure," you said, sending Everett out to start warming up.

"Great," Bob said, and you followed him out to home plate as Molly sat down on the bleachers. "There's a Navy officer hangout called the Hard Deck. You want to meet me there after work?"

"Sounds good. Thanks, Bob."

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

Bradley felt a little dirty every time he pulled up the photos you sent him, but he really enjoyed scrolling through the progression of seeing you in your bra to seeing you bare for him. You were something else. So sexy. So funny. So smart.

It was Friday morning, and he had one more flight simulation to go. And if he skipped lunch, he could probably get home by dinnertime. Bob had mentioned that he was taking you to the Hard Deck for drinks tonight, and Bradley desperately wanted to get back in time for that. He couldn't wait to see the look on Nat's face when she met you.

Bob had also told him about his date with Molly. He gushed about how much he liked her for fourteen messages in the text thread, and Bradley didn't know how Bob managed to pull this one off.

Bradley hit the road for the long drive back to San Diego, deciding to skip changing out of his uniform. His khakis weren't the most comfortable thing in the world, but at least he'd get back sooner. He wound along the coastal roads, passing some ballfields on the way. He was pretty sure Everett would be able to make a real pitch team by next spring, but Bradley was definitely going to have to work on some things with him before then. It was okay, they had almost a year to get him there.

Bradley had also been thinking about what he could tell the kids in Everett's class about aviation during his career day speech. The fact that Bradley was looking forward to that still kind of shocked him.

The sun was setting when Bradley pulled into the Hard Deck parking lot, and he spotted your car right away. Then he spotted you, heading for the entrance in your tight, black skirt and heels.

"Kitten!" he called out the open window, and you spun around to face him with a smile on your face. He quickly found an empty parking space and barely had the Bronco in park before you were there. "I missed you," he said, climbing down and closing his door.

Your arms were instantly around his neck, and you were kissing him so sweetly. "I didn't know you would be here," you whispered against his lips. Your hand trailed down his chest to play with his pins while you nibbled on his lips.

"I drove straight through to get back to you sooner, Kitten." That seemed to do something to you as you parted your lips and tasted his tongue.

He turned and pinned you against the Bronco, licking and kissing his way up your neck. "You look hot in your uniform," you moaned.

"You wore my favorite skirt," he mumbled, and you gasped as he ran his palm down the front of it. You were rubbing yourself against him with your fingers tangled up in his hair, and Bradley was hard as a rock for you.

"Bradley," you whimpered as he nuzzled his nose down the front of your blouse. He kissed and tasted the tops of your breasts while you scraped your nails along his scalp. You were so sweet. His mind was flooded with thoughts of getting you in his bed with your tight skirt bunched up around your waist and your pussy overflowing with his cum.

He kissed you hard, making the back of your head tap the side window. "Can I take you home, Kitten? Skip the bar?"

You eyed his face in the dim, dusk light. "Yes, but I need to have one drink first," you promised him, running your fingers along his mustache. "I told Bob I'd meet him."

Bradley groaned and kissed your fingertips and then your palm and the inside of your wrist. "Just one drink. Then I get some alone time with you."

When Bradley wrapped his arm around your waist, you snuggled in next to him, kissing his bicep just below his uniform sleeve. "I can't believe you wear this out in public," you muttered, running your fingers along his pins again. "I think I changed my mind. Let's leave now."

Bradley chuckled and held the door open for you, guiding you inside the noisy bar with his hand at your lower back. "One drink," he reminded you. "Then you're mine, Kitten."

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

You felt warm and flushed all over as Bradley guided you through the crowded bar. There were people in uniforms and some in civilian clothes, and you spotted Bob near the pool table as he waved to you.

"Team Mom!" he announced as you and Bradley neared him. "And Rooster, you made it back," he added, fist bumping Bradley. You had never heard anyone use his call sign before, and it made you laugh.

"I forgot your name was Rooster," you said, smiling up at his face as he lazily rubbed your back. "What's yours, Bob?"

You watched his cheeks flush in embarrassment. "It's actually just Bob."

"Oh," you said, thoroughly confused as you were immediately introduced to a beautiful woman who went by Phoenix.

"So, she's the Team Mom," she said with a devilish grin in Bradley's direction. "I think that would be your aviator call sign. Team Mom. Also, I'm still pissd you don't have another sister." Phoenix sighed and shook her head at you.

You laughed as she offered to buy you a drink, but then Bob stepped in. "No, it's on me! It's the least I can do since you gave up so much of your time this week to fill in for Bradley. What do you like?"

Bradley leaned down and kissed your temple and murmured, "Expensive champagne." He was making your tummy feel warm, the way he was being so affectionate in front of his friends and colleagues. You turned to look at him and he kissed you softly.

You pulled away, suddenly feeling shy; five more minutes in the parking lot with him and you'd have been fucking on his backseat, but apparently this was too much.

"I'll have a beer. Thanks, Bob," you managed, cuddling up next to Bradley's side as Bob headed to the bar.

"Hey, Rooster. You playing us a song tonight?" drawled a handsome blond man who was smirking at you.

Bradley glanced down at you. "You like Great Balls of Fire?" he asked.

You gave him a strange look. "As long as you're talking about the song and not some sort of medical condition, then yes, I do."

Bradley started laughing with his head tipped back, and you grinned as the handsome blond laughed, too. "You're funny. My name's Jake," he said, shaking your hand as Bradley meandered a few feet away to sit down at the piano.

You introduced yourself to Jake and listened to the tinkling sound of the keys as Bradley warmed up. You had no idea he was musically gifted, but you were excited to hear him play. He was probably one of those severely annoying people who was good at everything. He started playing the song, and even his singing voice was good.

"So, how do you know Rooster and Bob?" Jake drawled, drawing your attention back to him just as Bob handed you a pint of beer.

You thanked him and took a sip. "My son is on their tee ball team."

"How old's your kid?" Jake asked, smiling at you in a way that had you a little flustered.

"He's almost seven." You were still distracted by Bradley, and now he was looking at you as he played. He winked only at you, even though he was starting to draw a crowd.

"I love kids," Jake informed you. "Hey, when you're done that beer, let me buy you another one."

"Oh, okay," you agreed, and then Bob called over to Jake.

"Come on, Hangman. Leave our Team Mom alone!"

Jake looked at you with renewed interest as you drank your beer. "Oh shit. So you're the Team Mom. I've heard a lot about you."

You were really surprised. "You have?" you asked as Bradley finished playing the song. You clapped for him along with everyone else, and then he was making his way back over.

"Yeah," Jake replied with a laugh. "You're the hot mom that Bradley is never going to date, because moms aren't his thing."

Your smile immediately vanished from your face. "What?"

Jake waved his hand in the air while he sipped his drink, as if you were supposed to know exactly what he was talking about. As if you weren't immediately on high alert and having a difficult time breathing. "You know...too much baggage. Complicated. Not worth the aggravation. That sort of shit."

You were frozen in place, barely able to speak. "He said that?" Your voice sounded tiny and your throat was tight. You ran your fingers along your neck, trying to make sense of this.

"Yeah, he went on and on the one night we were all hanging out."

Bradley had told his friends he would never date you. He had said you were too complicated. He told them you weren't worth his time. And now he was walking your way, smiling at you like you were still expected to go back to his place after this and let him fuck you. That had been his plan the entire time.

"But listen," Jake added. "I don't feel that way at all. If you're interested, I'd love to take you out to dinner." You thought maybe Jake was a little drunk, because he couldn't stop talking and then he reached out and stroked your cheek with his knuckles.

You gently grabbed his hand and guided it back to his side, just as Bradley rushed over with an irate expression.

"The fuck?" he asked Jake.

"Hey, it's cool, man. I get it," Jake replied. "She's so hot, I can't believe you won't date her just because she has a kid. But good for you for getting her to agree to come out tonight. No reason you can't enjoy her."

You gasped and took a step away, knowing you needed to escape now with your dignity intact, but Bradley was immediately focused solely on you.

"Kitten."

You handed your pint glass to a random person, and then you were stumbling over your own feet, trying to get to the door as quickly as you could. Time seemed frozen, and you felt like you were going to throw up as you rushed past people who were happy and laughing. You could vaguely hear Bradley's voice behind you as you tried to get away.

Once you were outside, you sucked in a deep breath of the salty air and fumbled in your pocket for your car key as you started running.

"Kitten!" he yelled, and you could hear the crunch of his boots on the gravel, and you knew that you would never be able to outrun him. So you skidded to a halt and rounded on him instead. A lot of things in your life were scary, like paying your bills, and making sure Everett had everything he deserved. But you would not be too afraid to stand up for yourself. You would not let another arrogant asshole determine your behavior for you.

As Bradley stopped abruptly in front of you, his face was illuminated by a street light, and you hated him for being so handsome. "Kitten. I can explain," he promised, holding up his hands in surrender. His brown eyes were wide as he searched your face.

"Did you tell your friends I'm too complicated to date?" you asked, voice steady as you stepped into his personal space.

"Yes, but-"

You stomped your foot, effectively silencing him. "Did you refer to my son as baggage?"

"Yes, but Kitten, I can explain."

You slapped him hard across the cheek, but his gaze never wavered.

"I don't need you to fucking explain anything to me!"

"Please." He was pleading, his chest rising and falling as his expression was filled with panic. "Kitten."

"Stop calling me that. I can't believe you were just leading me on for fun."

"I wasn't," he insisted. "I wouldn't do that."

You just scoffed at him and shoved his chest. He grabbed gently for your hands, but you yanked them away and took a step back as tears filled your eyes. "I can deal with getting played, but not Everett! His dad already bailed on him, and I won't let him feel unwanted by anyone ever again! We come as a fucking package deal!"

Bradley was running his hands through his hair in dismay. "I care about both of you." His voice sounded choked up, and you wanted to believe him, but now you knew better.

You jabbed him in the chest with your index finger. "You're a liar," you told him as your tears finally spilled over. "Stay away from us outside of tee ball practice."

"Kitten." He tried reaching for you again, but you backed away, bumping into a parked car which made you cry harder.

"I need to figure out how to deal with Ev," you sobbed. "And don't you dare ever speak to me again."

You ran for your car as you tried to take gulps of air into your burning lungs, swiping away the tears that were obscuring your vision. It took you a few tries to get the key in the ignition with your shaking fingers, but when you did you cranked the engine and pulled away. You could see Bradley in your rearview mirror as he dropped down into a squat in the dark parking lot with his head in his hands.

The short drive back to your house was filled with the sound of you sobbing, and you stumbled out of the car and up to your front porch. You leaned against the railing and tried to compose yourself. But this was where you and Bradley had been making out less than two weeks ago after you had one of the best orgasms of your life. So you paced the length of your porch instead, wiping your tears and making sure your breathing was even. Because even though it was late enough now that Everett was surely in bed, you were going to have to contend with Molly.

"Hi," your sister said as you walked inside. She was snuggled up on the couch reading a book, but when she got a good look at you, she jumped up. "What happened? I thought maybe you'd be staying out later? Or all night since Bradley is back."

You pressed your lips together to try to prevent them from shaking, but Molly knew you too well. She was across the room collecting you in her arms immediately. When you started crying again, she didn't stop you, rather she just let you get it out of your system.

Finally, you were able to whisper, "Bradley told all of his friends that he'd never date me, because I have baggage."

Your sister's loud gasp was vindication to your soul, but you didn't like the price it came with. "That fucking prick. Does Bob know about this?"

"Probably," you said softly against her shoulder. "He must."

"I'll call him right now," Molly said, but you grabbed her tighter.

"No, please don't. You had an immaculate first solo date with him last night which ended in a hot makeout session. I don't want the three ring circus that is my life to start messing up yours."

Molly kissed your cheek and promised, "Your life is not a three ring circus. And Everett is not baggage. And Bradley isn't worth your time if that's what he thinks. Now let me help you get changed for bed."

Molly helped you out of your black skirt, something you had hoped Bradley would be doing just a few short hours ago. And then you washed your face and brushed your teeth while shaking your head at your puffy eyes in the bathroom mirror.

You ended up climbing into bed in your bathrobe while Molly plugged your phone in. "You have thirty missed calls and seventeen text messages from Bradley."

"Ignore him," you whispered, pulling your covers up to your chin. "What am I supposed to do about Ev, Molly? He's so attached. Oh my god, I can't believe I did this. I knew better!"

"Shh," she replied, climbing into bed next to you. "I'll sleep over and take him to the game in the morning. And I'll deal with everything."

Eventually your exhaustion took over, and you fell asleep next to your sister, holding her hand in yours. Your last waking thought was a feeling of thankfulness that you had only mostly fallen in love with Bradley.

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

Wow, Jake. I mean, he's not wrong, but still. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 13

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #bradley rooster x reader

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breathetoseethetruth · 8 months

Text

Joe Jonas' team essentially trying to switch the personalities of Joe and Sophie by claiming that he likes to stay at home while Sophie likes to party (when it's publically KNOWN that it's the other way around), reminds me of how Depp tried to claim things like him just calmly reading books when Amber supposedly just randomly came in swinging (in reality Amber is the lifelong bookworm and Depp probably does not have enough brain cells left to make it through a single page). Not to mention him larping as a painter by painting over photographs, whilst Amber is an actual talented painter since her youth.

#Sophie Turner #Amber Heard

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mo0nfairy · 1 year

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I gotta see a part of yandere Leon where reader remembers him as they get through los Iluminados maybe some yandere in action lol (at least only if you want to!)

part 1. part 3. part 4.

tw :: obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, mention of drugs, framing, handcuffs, stalking, trauma, guns, wounds, heights, being locked up.

⸺ ooooooo !!! i've been meaning to make a part 2 of my last ask, but had zero idea where to go from where i ended. i also had played a bit of RE2 before the remake came out recently, so a piece of my brain has been kept up in raccoon city for a little while. i would love to express my thoughts and mesh these two games together !!

let's start with where we left off in los iluminados.

upon having your handcuffs taken off by the stranger who is far too close for comfort, you pace backwards, far away as you can get from this insanity of a man. his attitude abruptly shifts into something softer, a major contrast to the emotional breakdown he had just seconds prior. he realizes you're afraid — afraid of him. and as much as the mere thought destroys him to the point of breaking down again, he shoves a sob back down his throat and keeps his distance, despite how desperately he wishes to close it.

6 years. 6 years. he has been waiting over 2,190 miserable days for this single moment. all the sleepless nights spent searching the world for you; all the hopeless nights spent clinging to pillows, praying by some miracle it will somehow become you. every second of these past 6 years has been spent dreaming of this single moment. and even though your reunion wasn't the teary-eyed, passionate kiss in the rain he had hoped for, you are still here with him nonetheless.

and like hell will he let you slip from his grasp again.

with as much time as his needy self would grant him being physically away from you, he is soon at your side. leon then wraps you in his jacket and you swear you hear a harsh gasp escape from him when his finger accidentally makes contact with the skin of your neck. despite your negligence and more-than-obvious discomfort, you do appreciate the new warm embrace after a week of cold rain and damp clothes. it smells exactly like him, as well.

and with that, he's got a gentle hand hovering over your lower back as he guides you through the depths of this hellhole. and piece by piece, memories that had been buried in your brain begin to disinter themselves.

for example, you got a staring problem bro?? for the entirety of the time you spend with leon in los iluminados, there is literally never a single moment where this mans eyes are not on you. half of the time it is to ensure you are unharmed, but the other half consists of him staring in complete and utter awe. it's kind of hard to focus on surviving when leon is constantly staring into your soul. but it has just been so fucking long since he has been able to see you in all of your glory, so please excuse him for any inappropriate behavior on his end.

also, you knew you have lived in raccoon city for a short period of time before the events of RE2 happened, but like everything else that relates to that damned place, you couldn't remember a thing.

except now. leon's gaze uncovers a memory you have of yourself being held in one of the RPD holding cells. the atrocious scent, the uncomfortable bench, the paint peeling from the walls. you try and scrutinize what on earth you could have been arrested for, but your attempts are merely futile. but unbeknownst to you, your arrest was nothing but bullshit. and to say leon has had a crush on you from the second you moved into RC would be nothing short of the truth. so, by pulling some strings, the rookie had managed to lock you up for what he calls 'bonding time'. he'll place a chair backwards in front of your cell, prop his arms on the backrest and admire you with your full attention finally on him (instead of just stalking you around town).

two things you now remember about this man: he was so adorably baby-faced back then and my god, was he awkward. he still cannot talk for shit and i mean this with my whole heart. his sweet, innocent eyes gaze at you while he tries to play it cool, pulling cards like "yeah, i workout" and "you come here often?". all as if he hadn't personally arrested you for possession of illegal substances he planted himself. (nothing will happen to you, obvi. he just desperately needed a second alone with you to show off how charismatic he can be. or try to be, at least).

and for the short second of seeing him after 6 years, his eyes were just devoid of any life. you had assumed the trauma inflicted from that night had caused such a contrast in his physical appearance, and you would be right to assume that. but the soulless eyes, monotone voice, and lackluster personality was entirely due to your disappearance. days upon days of the lonely, eternal torment destroyed his sanity. however, that illustrious boy you can barely remember seems to have returned with your presence.

another thing you can't believe you had forgotten was how intense his stare is. the way he stares is illegible and sometimes overwhelming. he shivers in his stance, whimpers at your every move, and his mind runs rampant with all sorts of obsessive declarations of love. although it may seem creepy to others and especially yourself, do not fret. he has no ill intent towards you, god he could never! this puppy-dog of a man is simply marveling at your sheer existence.

you are able to retrieve another lost memory when you have to jump from a window and into his arms (for those who say he won't be able to catch you, stfu. have ya'll seen how beefy his arms are??? anyways....). the secret agent you have grown to like during your stay in los iluminados jumps down marvelously (most def showing off his james-bond-esque agilities to you). he now watches from below as you stare at the distance beneath you in trepidation. this distrust you have — he is going to travel to the ends of the universe to fix it. no matter what.

you begin to ponder, he has savagely brutalized all threats in your path and held your hand as if he were holding the world all in the same breath. you should trust him, especially after witnessing the pure display of loyalty he has for you.

"don't be afraid, y/n. i'll catch you, i promise!" there is 10000% a way to walk through the house and down the stairs to get to him, but ofc he's not gonna tell you. why would he willingly throw away the opportunity to be your knight in shining armor?

"you will?" your voice is full of apprehension. his stare on you feels like the same bullets he's forced upon your attackers.

"always."

with that, you rip the bandaid off and jump from the ledge. and leon was most certainly not lying. you land safely in his embrace and he wraps his arms tightly around your form. and to finally have you so close, after so, so long of devastatingly praying he could feel you once more.......... if he had a tail, it would for sure be wagging so fast it would morph into a blur. and the way he holds you is different, as if his gentle nature is reserved for you and you only (which it is. this is literally him in a nutshell).

and when you had instinctively buried your face into his neck upon landing, clinging to him out of fear of hitting the ground, he literally melts. i'm serious, he literally just 🫠🫠🫠🫠. the faint hum of laughter and adoration that escapes his throat breaks you out of your state of shock. you made it safely to the ground without breaking every bone in your body, hooray! (as if there is a single reality in existence where leon would ever allow that to happen, but i digress).

you meet his gaze and there is that all-too familiar stare he gives you. leon's arms holding onto you like a lifeline uncovers a memory you have of yourself being held like this all those years ago. you can't recall exactly where in raccoon city you were, but you can remember how humiliated you were when you tripped over a crack in the pavement and ate shit. there was the fairest of scrapes against your shin, but the mortification hurt far more than any wound. while you dust yourself off and attempt to ignore the burning stares of pedestrians, a shout of your name sparks your attention.

the RPD gear and besotted eyes you're met with could be no other than that baby-faced rookie. you ponder of what he was doing on this side of town. was it a simple coincidence you had run into each other? or perhaps, had he followed you? just when you think you can't feel more embarrassed, leon gets down on one knee and dramatically inspects your wound. and my god, he acts like you were shot or something. he visibly shudders from the sight of your leg; people begin to gather around the commotion. with pure ease, he then scoops you into his arms to bring you to safety. you can feel his heart pound like a machine gun beneath the palm of your hand.

despite the humiliation deprived from this event, you fortunately are free from anything mortifying in los iluminados. however, leon doesn't seem to understand when to take a hint.

"uh... you can put me down now." you come out of your memory to thrash in his grasp and avoid his intense gaze, but your prince charming seems to still be caught in his y/n-filled daze.

after a few long seconds, your comment seems to finally reach his brain. "huh?" his response is faint and you almost don't hear it.

you repeat yourself and begrudgingly, leon then slowly puts you back onto your feet, savoring the last few seconds spent with you in his arms. exactly where you belong. you can only fear how much more suffocating affection you'll have to endure before you can finally remember what happened that night.

i think someone legit needs to slap me across the face and bring me back into reality cause holy shit...... i went WAYY too far with this. my brain is a mess thank u for reading.

i have more thoughts about this........ just incase u were curious........ ;)

#resident evil 4 #re4 #re4 remake #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #yandere leon kennedy #yandere resident evil #yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #venus’ brain #moonfairy

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haikyu-mp4 · 9 days

Text

Emergency contact

word count; 1047 – f!reader

“I don’t mean to be rude but, why are you here?” Semi asked you, one hand clutching his head and the other rubbing his eyes. He couldn’t quite believe his eyes right now.

“I could ask you the same thing. Apparently, I’m your emergency contact.”

The cogs were slowly turning in his head with the help of that single brain cell he always seemed to rely on. “Ohh... the drinking game.”

“You played a drinking game with emergency contacts? Do you know how serious that is?” you scolded him. That’s the y/n he remembered from high school. Diligent y/n, student president and his seemingly hopeless crush. Too different to hang out in high school, when everyone had their circles and stuck to them. He even dramatically told his friends you were the one that got away when there was liquor in his system, yet here you were. Back in his life as his emergency contact after he fell off stage.

When he went out for drinks with some old teammates from Shiratorizawa to catch up, they asked if he ever got your number before graduation. He proudly presented the contact like it was a treasure, which led to someone daring him to put you as his emergency contact. Crazy, right?

He ignored your concern, waving his hand in hopes you’d drop it. “Remind me what happened, please. Was it cool?”

“A light fixture fell on your thick head and then you fell off stage.”

He smiled sheepishly but held up a rock sign with his hand. “I’m a rockstar.” The small laugh under your breath made him happy, but happiness made his head hurt again so he winced instead. You carefully sat on the edge of the hospital bed.

“Why wouldn’t they call your parents?”

“I’m not in contact with them anymore.” A silence fell over you and you looked at him sympathetically, but still managed a small smile. He seemed to be getting tired again already, you couldn’t even imagine how much his head must hurt. The doctor said he was lucky it didn’t hit him harder, or with a sharp edge. No broken bones either, so he just had to stay until the concussion was under control.

“Because you’re a rockstar?” you whispered, making him smile again and nod. You hummed at his confirmation, watching as his eyes fell closed and he went back to sleep again.

He’s still so pretty, you thought. His hair was a bit messier and his face a bit more lived in but still the pretty setter you remember. Some sweet pick-up line would leave his lips every time he passed you back then, and you would frown and tell him to focus on school. You never figured out if he knew how flustered he made you. Surely, he must have known with that stupid smirk on his face.

When Semi woke up again, he wondered if you had actually been there or if it was all some weird dream. He slowly opened his eyes, nervous to see who he heard shuffling around. Someone was there, but it wasn’t you, and his face fell along with his chest as he let out the breath he held in anticipation.

“Hello, love,” the older nurse said, coming over to check his reaction time and other standard things. Semi let her, not really conversing while she checked him. Maybe she was never here…

He cleared his throat, looking up at the woman. “Was there a girl, uh sorry, a woman here earlier?”

“Right!” she said and Semi could swear he felt anticipation clutching onto his heart. “She had to make some calls so she’s in the cafeteria waiting for you. When you feel stable enough to get up, please have two painkillers with this glass of water and then you are free to leave as you wish.”

Semi smiled. He smiled so brightly like the nurse had told him she cured some terrible sickness. “Thank you,” he said, bowing as well as he could from where he lay in the hospital bed. After she left, he slowly started sitting up, clutching the edge of the bed to stabilise himself. You’re waiting for him.

Semi walked into the cafeteria after signing out and getting a prescription for painkillers from the main desk. He had his concert clothes back on, looking around for a familiar face. And he found you, rigged up with your computer and notepad with a phone resting between your shoulder and ear. You were frowning while talking to someone on the phone and Semi shouldn’t think it’s so hot, but he did.

He walked over and sat across from you, leaning his chin on the top of the screen. You made eye contact and huffed, telling whoever was on the line that you would get back to them tomorrow. “Hey there, rockstar,” you cooed, leaning on your hand with your elbow resting on the table.

“You stayed,” was all he answered.

“Someone needs to drive you home,” you sighed. You leaned forward and held out your hand, planting your pointer finger under his chin. He was high on painkillers and could swear the two of you were about to kiss despite not seeing each other for years, but then you just flicked his chin up a bit to close the computer. “Let’s go, pretty boy.”

If Semi liked you before, this new confidence you grew into had him on his knees. Not literally, but he was watching your every move as you packed up your stuff and finally stood up. Semi got up with you, quickly reaching out and grabbing the strap of your bag so he could hoist it up on his shoulder with a cheeky smile. There was still a low beat playing in his head from the earlier headache, but he did his best to ignore it. You huffed and turned around, leading him to the car while repeating everything the nurse told him to remember earlier while he just pretended to listen. Again, you wondered if he knew you were flustered.

Surely, he knew with a smirk like that. Maybe you should make sure he gets safely into his apartment and then kiss the stupid smirk off his face. That sounds like a good plan.

masterlist

/for Semi-lover @cosmiicdust <3

#haikyu x reader #haikyu #haikyuu #hq x reader #fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #hq #haikyuu fluff #haikyu fluff #haikyuu x you #semi eita #semi x reader #semi x you

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no-saints-around-here · 7 months

Text

Quiet Afternoon

Yandere BFF Bonten Rindo & Bimbo!Reader

Masterlist

‎

a little nsfw spinoff from my BFF Rindo series, starting here, masterlist here! not necessary to read but it'll provide some context imo

tw: yandere, smut, dubcon, sexual assault, double pen, afab reader, dead dove do not eat

The muffled clap of skin meeting skin echoed through the opulently decorated bedroom, though calling the enormous space a bedroom was generously stretching the term to its limit. Tastefully decked out in dark-toned hardwoods and the occasional flourish of gold and silver, the priceless masterpieces that decorated the walls and corner of the room as if spoils of wars were barely visible in the dim light, polished frames and shined metal unable to shimmer in the dull ambient glow of the intricate chandelier that hung above the bed. Yet despite all the glitters and glamor that shared the space, it was only the four-poster bed that received any ounce of the spotlight - or more so you, ever so elegantly posed naked on your fours above less sparsely-dressed yet obviously fuming Rindo.

“What the fuck-” The words were hissed through gritted teeth as he harshly thursted himself upwards. “Did I say about talking to the others? Huh?!” You only huffed, unable to even catch your breath as strong arms simultaneously forced you backwards and onto him, his hips meeting the flesh of your buttocks with a wet slap as the Bonten executive plunged his entire length into you.

You, however, barely seemed to notice your self-proclaimed best friend’s foul mood as he pounded himself into you, the pleasure overwhelming any coherent thought that might have been left in that empty head of yours. Angelic voice that once could transfix and mesmerize crowds now reduced to mere huffing and wheezing, your doe-like eyes rolled backwards as he grinded his cock harshly against that one soft, spongy spot of your inner wall. Rindo was sure that the only thing keeping you up was his strength; the same strength that had kept you safe from the big bad world since you wore him down into friendship in childhood. But it was precisely this fact that had the well-feared mobster pissed off enough to tip his hand and break the sole unspoken rule he had held himself to for all these years to punish you.

Even after so long and what could be considered a forcibly short but successful stint as an idol, you still had barely a brain cell to share between both halves of your head, still couldn’t even follow a single simple instruction that he was sure he had drilled into you countless times.

It was just a routine job, no more than a few hours to be spent apart from you. His orders were easy and direct as they always were when it came to you: forbidding you from leaving the room until he was back, to keep the door locked at all times, and to not breathe a word to any of the other Bonten members except in an absolute emergency. Straightforward enough, yet where did he find you upon his return from his exhausting mission? Not in your shared room, no; he found you instead mesmerized by Koko, that slick, stingy motherfucker trying to brainwash you into selling nudes. Convincing you that he, Rindo, your best friend in the entire world, wouldn’t mind in the slightest since there was money to be made, and that Koko had buyers - dedicated, obsessed and very, very wealthy fans still reeling from your sudden retirement from the industry - lined up that would shell out a bomb for just a mere teasing shot in your panties.

Lies. You should know better than to think those honeyed words were nothing but lies. Because you were his and only his, and as your friend and sole protector, he would happily kill every last person who dared to lay such vulgar eyes on you.

“Why were you with Koko? What else did he say?” The younger of the Haitanis demanded, gloved grip tightening ever so slightly around your hips.

Despite the strong air-conditioning going at full blast and having done so for the past couple of hours, the prominent beads of sweat that clung to your forehead gleamed softly as if crystals clung to your skin as you panted, gasping to catch your next breath. A complete opposite from his own state. Rindo didn’t feel the slightest bit winded from this post-work workout despite being mostly clad in his combat outfit: the bulletproof vest paired with a simple black shirt and tie only missing a similarly colored pair of pants, with said clothing having long been stripped off and hurriedly discarded. Though more irritating was having to watch the dirt and grime and filthy blood of the outside world being rubbed off onto your bare skin - he’ll have to make sure that you got an extra thorough bath later. God only knows what kind of sickness you could catch.

You, however, remained unresponsive to Rindo’s demands except the occasional whuff and sharp exhale, lost in the pleasure rippling through your body from the valley between your legs.

Finally pulling himself out from his spiraling thoughts, the Bonten executive paused in his movements, sharp violet eyes narrowing at your failure to respond as he left himself half submerged in your folds. “Are you even listening?” He snarled, accompanied with another strong thrust that earned him a throaty gasp from you before stopping once more.

Rindo’s only answer was your struggle against his hold in a vain attempt to regain the sudden loss of friction. “Ah-ahh Rin-rin,” you whined, pleaded, as you desperately tried to regain the momentum that sparked pleasure in your abdomen, though your attempt to grind against him was in vain. "I really tr-ied!"

He already did so much for you - the tattoo on the front of his neck that branded him as Bonten was all for you. Who better to protect you from rabid world who would tear you apart without hesitation than the largest criminal organization in Japan? All those tortured souls, those eyes that he stared straight into before ending their life, all the blood that stained his hands. Rindo did it to keep you safe, to keep you by his side. And this was how you repaid your best friend? “You didn’t try hard enough.”

Countless men he had killed who had tried to take you away, who had tried to steal away your heart, who had tried to get you to notice them. And countless more he will kill - strangers, Bonten employees, former fans. He would kill them all for you. But even now, Rindo couldn’t quite muster himself to get genuinely angry at you. Even after you betrayed his trust, it was pretty much what Rindo had expected - you had always been quite the airhead, which was why you depended on him, why he, your best friend, had to care for you and look after you.

He’ll punish you for this transgression all right, but not too much; the thought of you fearing him, leaving him, sent shivers down his spine. Just a little bit wouldn’t hurt to keep you in line.

‎

Sure, Ran might have been strolling down Executive Row with the precise intention of poking his nose into his younger brother’s business, especially after the juicy rumors swirling as to what went down a couple of hours earlier with Koko. Now clean and dressed in a fresh set of shirt and shorts, this part of Bonten HQ was predictably void of souls - no servant would dare be caught loitering where the bosses lived. But being able to hear your harmonious voice whining from the corridor for all to hear? Even he didn’t expect something so bold from Rindo, not when the latter had a custom-made soundproof bedroom door installed the day he moved in. And sure enough, the thick, heavy padded steel door was slightly ajar, an oddity in the otherwise lifeless hallway neatly lined with an alternating pattern of invaluable treasures and rightly shut doors - Rindo must have been in a mighty hurry if he failed to do something so routine.

The rare and untimely creak of the usually well-oiled door fortunately failed to draw any attention, Ran noted, and the full view of your naked backside mooning him from the entrance quickly made it clear what his dear brother was occupied with. He remembered you well not only from your shared childhood in the Haitani household, but more recently from your time on the stage, those captivating melodies that you belted out without a second thought roaring up to the front of his mind once more. No doubt he still hears them from time to time on the air, but having had the opportunity to listen to you in person once, it was clear why you had rocketed to stardom. But ah Rindo - he kept you close to his side all this time. Negotiating with Mikey just to let him have you, he was always so obsessed with you, baring his teeth at any of the other executives that dared to even glance your way, let alone allowing you anywhere close to rabid fans eager for a piece of you. He even hides his fucking gun from you. No wonder he forced you to retire from stardom.

For a moment, Ran stood watching the two of you from the doorway. Rindo was frustrated at whatever sin it was that you had committed, and this was his idea of a “punishment”, yet that baby boy nestled amidst the luxurious fabrics was still so obviously, painfully gentle. The way he was edging you so carefully, glancing up at your face every other second just to make sure you weren’t actually hurting, still giving you the occasional pump so that you weren’t left completely high and dry; what else was there to say? Ran was nowhere this kind even to his favorite private whores. The smell of sex filled every breath he took as the cool air leaked out from the bedroom and into the otherwise empty passage, before the man finally turned to gently close the door behind him, locking it shut. A smell he was no stranger to, and while he was sure Rindo would maybe be okay if it was just him, but he would definitely be pissed if any of the others ever saw you in your current state. Pissed enough to end them with a clean gunshot to the head probably, and Ran shuddered at the possibility of having to bail Rindo out from Mikey’s wrath.

A soft chime ringing out from an unseen clock was like the starting bell of a fight, and it was a smirk that pulled at Ran’s lips as he padded over to the centerpiece of the room. Time to make this little session a proper punishment - he did have a heart after all, and if it did help Rindo keep you more in line, then fantastic

Your self-proclaimed best friend only took note of the unwelcome intruder when the nightstand drawer was pulled open, and in an instance, that look of mock anger (Ran was certain it was all just a bluff) fell away into horror as their eyes met. “What the fuck-“ Rindo stammered, the gears in his head seemingly coming to a grinding halt. You at least had enough awareness left in you to let out an eep at the sudden introduction of another voice, though you quickly settled back down as Rindo’s arms tightened protectively around you; maybe you assumed that all this was Rindo’s idea? Ran wouldn’t be surprised - your airhead already relied so heavily on the other to guide you through life.

“You left the door open. So I invited myself in.” The older of the two helpfully supplemented, signature lazy grin plastered all over his face as he rummaged for a little before pulling out a small tube.

“Get out!”

“Aww Rin-Rin, why’re you being so mean?” Ran teased as he slid onto the plush bed, comfy blankets that usually swaddled you and your delicate skin puffing up under his bony self as the man made his way across the enormous mattress. “I’m just here to help.”

“Don’t you dare touch her,” swore Rindo, the previous anger that had melted away from his face just minutes ago flaring up once more, cheeks reddening as he glared down Ran. “I’ll fucking kill you, I swear.”

But the fighting words barely bothered the older Haitani, more than used to his brother’s all bark and no bite when it came to actually making a move in front of you. “You want to punish her, don’t ya?” Drawled Ran, as he finally reached you. You jumped when cold hands touched your cheeks, spreading them apart with a critical eye as if appreciating a feast. “Doesn’t seem like it with what you’re doing.”

Ignoring the continuously growing threats that Rindo was growling at him from the bed, Ran instead busied himself making a show of squeezing out what was revealed to be lube from the small tube and generously coating his fingers. The shiny liquid seemingly glimmered under the light of the chandelier against the backdrop of your equally glittery skin, his anticipation of what was to come shortly quickly leading to a tent in his shorts. After all, desire for something was directly proportional to how off-limits it was, and you had been off-limits to him since Rindo first brought you home. He couldn’t wait. Casually pushed two slicked digits into your tight pucker, giving it a few lazy pumps in what seemed like an attempt to loosen and oil your bottom up for him, his impatience got the better of him, and the Bonten executive gave up all pretense. Hurriedly pushing down the band of his shirts and pulling out his already hard dick, you weren’t given a warning other than the light touch of his length as Ran lined himself up.

Your eyes popped open the same time that his head was forced past your ring of muscles, and your nose scrunched, an unmistakable sign of the flaring pain from between your legs. And the struggles started right after as you made a valiant attempt to free yourself from Rindo’s arms, the beads of sweat that clung to your hair holding on for dear life as you tried to wriggle away. “Ri-Rin, it hurts…”

But Ran was already lost to the warm heaven he, like an explorer stumbling upon the entrance to nirvana, had discovered within your wriggling body. “Oh- oh f-fuck,” was all the man could moan as his length sank in slowly and surely, the feeling of your newly opened bottom clutching and squeezing around his dick pure ecstasy, his mind almost liquid mush. Was this heaven what Rindo had been hiding from him all these years? Probably not, the executive floatingly mused to himself, as he pushed himself further inwards, given how deep in denial his younger brother was when it came to his relationship with you.

Your backdoor was miles better than any whore he had taken, in a league of your own, and that was putting it lightly - the warmth of your insides around him, combined with your muffled pained whines almost enough for the older Haitani to cum instantly if he had an ounce lesser of self-control. Sex might not have been Rindo’s top priority for keeping you out of the public’s eye and away from the rest of the Bonten executives, but god it should be - Ran would have been happy to pay an unimaginable number of zeros just for access to you..

Even Rindo let out a deep throated groan at the additional friction, before he caught himself and bit it back. Yet it was clear that you were stretched beyond your limit, the double penetration visibly causing strain between your legs, your thighs spasming with effort as you bit down hard on your lips, tears welling in those doe eyes of yours.

Slender fingers reaching down to gingerly touch at where you and Rindo were joined, the light exploratory brushes of his fingertips only serve to intensify your discomfort, as judged from the whimper that escaped your lips. Ran whistled - if that was enough to hurt…. That too failed to stop the smugly grinning executive, the older Haitani never ceasing as he continued to force his way past muscles that failed to keep him out, until he finally bottomed out in you, his balls slapping with enough force to let out an audible squelch. A pause, a temporary mercy to let you adjust to his size alongside Rindo’s, but more for Ran to admire the new expression that tore at your face.

An agonized grimace, a bleed of blood that adorned your plush lips, the idol that captured hearts was lost in the sea of pain he was putting you through. There was something beautiful about it, Ran admitted, as he ran one hand through your sweat-drenched hair, teasingly tracing light patterns into your back - he doubt there were many people who had ever seen this side of you, and it was a privilege he would treasure. The lust came flooding back as your tears fell, and Ran couldn’t resist leaning over to press a kiss to the back of your head before straightening.

“Move Rindo,” Ran grunted, as he started to grind his cock against your walls, pulling out slightly before slamming himself back in. “Move, dammit.”

‎

“Fucking hell Ran, you’re hurting her!” In a bid to dislodge the other from you, the younger of the two had attempted to roll you over and under him, but the slightest nudge had you crying out at the extra stretch, and Rindo stopped. He wasn’t going to lie that he wasn’t enjoying the extra friction - he had never experienced anything close before - but you were and always will be his first priority. You crying was the last thing he wanted, and the guilt was welling at the base of his gut. What fresh new hell was he putting you through?

Yet for all the nasty names his brain was yelling at him for not calling off this entire session, for not reaching under his pillow for his gun, Rindo couldn’t bring himself to pull out just yet. Against him knowing better than to continue, his hips began to thrust once more, and said gangster could only shove down the protesting best friend inside him.

He couldn’t tell when him and Ran had synced up, their thrusts falling into a pattern of one in, one out. The sheer friction generated was godly - the divine feeling of his cock rubbing up against another felt through the thin wall that separated your pussy from your ass as they were forced past each other. And as the seconds - minutes, hours? Rindo had long lost track of time - your own cries of pain died down, you letting out tired whines and grunts as you laid spent on Rindo’s chest, the two brothers too busy hammering their hips against yours in a chase of pleasure to notice. All three of you toppled over that edge at the same time, Rindo letting out a strangled ‘fuck’ before like a tension coil finally allowed to release, his hot cum spurted deep into you as he shuddered against you. And nestled as far as he could push in your ass, Ran’s cock pulsed and shuddered as he too released his load into you.

Around them, the sudden warmth seemed to trigger a response from you, your walls tightening around them as you came, though you barely twitched, your eyes already half-closed as you laid cuddled against Rindo, exhausted. Letting out a satisfied grunt, Ran finally pulled out of you, falling backwards to sit on the plush bed in a daze, the last dribble of cum drooling from the head of his softening dick. “That was- '' Said mafioso swallowed hard, unable to describe the feeling, though jumbled mind quickly latched on to the white cum starting to seep from both your holes. “Trying to get her pregnant?”

Post-nut clarity hit Rindo like a truck, and the bliss plastered across his face evaporated, giving way to a dark, angry look. Reaching under his pillow, it was that telltale click as a familiar pistol was pulled from underneath the white covers. “That was you overstaying your welcome,” snarled Rindo, as he leveled the barrel straight at Ran. “Fuck. Off.”

Ran beat a hasty retreat, barely able to push his dick back into his shorts before he disappeared behind the heavy steel bedroom door, said door groaning as it was locked shut with a soft thud.

Alone once more, the background whirl of the air-conditioning suddenly seemed so loud, the air blowing through unseen grates whistling as it drifted down from the high ceiling. The made-man turned his attention to you, violet eyes softening as he took in your fatigued form and your flushed cheeks. Stripping off his gloves, your best friend carefully rubbing his thumb over where hot tears had torn their way down your delicate skin, before chancing a glance between your legs. Ravaged would have been light - Rindo grimacing at the sight of your still panting pucker, red and inflamed from where it had been forced open.

Sighing, the man bundled your naked form ever so gently into his arms, shifting his way off the bed and standing with a crack of his knees. You stirred, looking up at him with swollen eyes. “Rin rin?”

He hummed as he crossed the room towards your built-in bathroom. “What is it?” His voice was uncharacteristically gentle as it always was when it came to you, a 180 from the feared Bonten gunman who took lives with nay a blink.

“...” You yawned, snuggling into his chest, your eyes fluttering close once more. “Nothing.”

“Hey, no sleeping yet.” He nudged you. “Pee, shower, then doctor.”

“Doctor?”

Just to make sure you were alright down there, Rindo admitted to himself, the guilt that he had suppressed previously now back to eat away at his heart, but he said nothing more to you. He’ll make it up to you, he swore to himself. Somehow, someway. With a click, the yellow lights flicked on, illuminating the marble-floored spotless bathroom.

You piped up again as you caught your reflection in the mirror. “Koko said - Koko said if I made enough money,” you paused, interrupted by another yawn. “You could stop working.”

“I don’t need your fucking money, stupid.” Placing you down on the toilet, the purple-haired man flicked your forehead, rolling his eyes. And that was the truth. It didn’t matter - it had never mattered - what he had to do. All this was for you. All he needed was you.

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cegantheayugipi · 1 year

Text

The Idiot Internship (Itto x Reader)

An Arataki Itto x Reader oneshot

Word Count: 9.2k

WARNINGS: BIG SMUT AHEAD, MINORS DNI!!

Tags include: heats/ruts, omegaverse themes (Itto is an Oni after all), breeding, marathon sex, reader is AFAB

Summary: You’re a Liyuean law student looking for a summer work study. When an alumna from your school offers you one all the way in the beautiful islands of Inazuma, who are you to decline? However, it comes with a caveat – your boss knows nothing (and cares nothing) about the law.

OR: Itto was never taught about the birds and the bees. Heck, he wasn't even taught what masturbation was, and he was a little too dumb to figure out on his own. However, when your continuous presence around him during your internship sends him straight into an Oni rut, he's going to need a lot of teaching – fast.

~~~ When Kuki Shinobu gave you this job and told you that your boss would be dumb, you had no idea she meant this dumb.

And here you sat, at the back of the dilapidated office room where the Arataki Gang held meetings, listening to Arataki Itto’s ‘great and glorious’ idea.

“And then, at the end of the drumalong festival, we set off a bunch of fireworks! It’ll be great!”

“Uh, Boss.” Shinobu spoke up, raising her hand in protest. “We need to apply for a formal permit to have any sort of public demonstration, and the process will take weeks.”

Your white-haired boss shrugged dramatically, scoffing at his subordinate’s suggestion.

“Psh, who needs a permit, we can do everything first and ask for forgiveness later!” Itto brushed off Shinobu’s very important statement of fact.

When Kuki Shinobu gave you this job and told you that your boss would be dumb, you had no idea she meant this dumb.

And here you sat, at the back of the dilapidated office room where the Arataki Gang held meetings, listening to Arataki Itto’s ‘great and glorious’ idea.

“And then, at the end of the drumalong festival, we set off a bunch of fireworks! It’ll be great!”

“Uh, Boss.” Shinobu spoke up, raising her hand in protest. “We need to apply for a formal permit to have any sort of public demonstration, and the process will take weeks.”

Your white-haired boss shrugged dramatically, scoffing at his subordinate’s suggestion.

“Psh, who needs a permit, we can do everything first and ask for forgiveness later!” Itto brushed off Shinobu’s very important statement of fact.

You tried your best not to scoff, or make any noise for that matter. As a law student who had traveled all the way from Liyue for this work study, every single word that left the gang leader’s mouth in regards to rules and regulations made you wonder if he even had two brain cells to put together. While the Oni may be hot, what he had in body he lacked in brains.

“Boss, if it’s alright, I’ll talk to the Yashiro Commission about it anyways.” Shinobu spoke up, her arms crossed over her chest as she faced her boss nonchalantly. It seemed like she typically had to do things like this for him. She was sitting next to Itto, as per usual.

“Alright, alright. It’s still a couple months away, so that’s enough talking for now. Let’s go have some udon!” Itto announced cheerfully.

You sighed loudly, not bothering to hide your exasperation. The gang members began to chatter loudly as they shuffled out of the run-down meeting room, excited for a good meal of Inazuman noodles, led by Itto who was the most excited out of the bunch. You wondered why on earth Kuki enjoyed managing an organization like the Arataki Gang when it seemed more like babysitting several adult children.

~~~

You followed the gang through the streets of Inazuma City, your stomach full from the large meal you all shared at the local noodle shop. Although you tended to miss your home country of Liyue, the food in Inazuma was so good that it always eased your homesickness.

Kuki Shinobu trailed at the back of the group, falling in step in front of you. She footed the bill for everyone, because somehow the Arataki Gang was always broke. You wondered how on earth Shinobu managed to pay your wages for the work-study, let alone the gang’s daily activities. However, according to your professor Yanfei, Kuki Shinobu was a woman of many miracles. You couldn’t deny she was incredibly intelligent – she single handedly made up for the gang’s collective lack of brain cells.

You were in the middle of thinking about how lucky you were to be offered a work study from Shinobu when you spotted your boss’s red and white hair in the corner of your eye. He was at a Taiyaki stand, chatting loudly to its owner. As you changed direction and walked closer to him you began to pick up their conversation.

“Just one left?!” Itto exclaimed dramatically. “I’ll take it!” The Oni dug through his pockets, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper, some lint, and a handful of mora.

The woman who ran the stand reluctantly picked the mora from his hand, offering up the last Taiyaki in exchange. You admired the beautifully decorated Taiyaki stand, glancing over the intricate sign displaying the menu.

Taiyaki flavors:

Chocolate SOLD OUT

Matcha SOLD OUT

Red Bean

Pumpkin SOLD OUT

Custard SOLD OUT

Wait… the last one was red bean?

Itto was allergic to beans.

As he raised the Taiyaki to his mouth, you realized you needed to stop him.

“Don’t eat it!” You shouted, lunging for your dumbass Oni of a boss. You snatched the food from his grip with a surprising amount of ease, considering how much muscle Itto had. All he did was stare – meanwhile, you did the best thing you could think of.

Opening your mouth wide, you shoved the entire Taiyaki in your mouth. You couldn’t deny it was delicious, but your face burned bright red with embarrassment as you chewed on the dessert.

“Wh-” Itto gawked. “Who are you?!” His voice cracked with surprise as he shouted.

“I’m your intern.” Your voice was muffled by the absurd volume of dessert that filled your mouth.

“Oh, I see… Did you really want the last Taiyaki that bad?” Itto asked, his voice sounding disappointed that he didn’t get to taste the dessert.

“Beans.” You spoke, pointing to your mouth. You finally swallowed the last of the Taiyaki with one large gulp, continuing to talk now that your mouth was finally free. “The Taiyaki has red bean paste inside.”

Itto let out an overly-dramatic gasp, one hand flying up to cover his chest.

“You saved my life!” He exclaimed. “I’m allergic to beans!”

“I know.” You responded, giving your boss an awkward smile.

“You’re awesome! Who hired you?”

“Kuki Shinobu.”

“Of course it’s my right hand man who hired someone as great as you!”

You nodded, knowing that you were, in fact, great and that you had most certainly saved Itto’s day – or possibly week, considering how bad his allergy was.

“What’s all this ruckus?” Shinobu spoke as she approached the two of you.

“The intern you hired saved me, Shinobu!” Itto pointed at you. “I was about to die!”

“Don’t be overly dramatic.” You responded flatly. “I just prevented you from eating beans.”

“Ah,” Shinobu nodded, “Thanks for staying sharp, boss doesn’t read menus well enough for someone with a severe food allergy.”

“Thank you, thank you so much!” Itto scooped you up in a huge hug, inadvertently squishing your face into his ginormous chest as he spun you around.

You were extremely annoyed at Itto’s irresponsible, reckless, and stupid behavior. However, you couldn’t deny it was strangely pleasant to be squished into such a soft chest.

You felt a little dizzy as Itto finally set you down, thinking perhaps the spinning had thrown your balance off.

“Oh, what’s your name, by the way?” Itto asked casually.

“Boss, I think they’re a little overwhelmed.” Shinobu spoke up. She noticed how red your face had gotten, and was worried that Itto had manhandled you a little too much.

“Uhhhh…” you mumbled, staring at Itto’s chest, too dazed to respond.

~~~

Ever since you ate Itto’s dessert to prevent him from having an allergic reaction, Kuki began to assign you to more and more tasks related to your boss. First it was running simple errands for him, like helping Granny Oni with her groceries, making tea for the meetings, or helping Itto find Onikabuto for his ridiculous beetle fighting tournaments.

You did everything begrudgingly – you accepted this work study thinking you’d be shadowing Kuki, not running around as her idiot boss’s assistant. You felt almost like you were a glorified and well-paid babysitter for the seven-foot tall Oni.

Eventually, Shinobu even gave you keys to Itto’s house to wake him up, since he tended to sleep in and risk missing his morning meetings.

“Wait, what do you mean, make sure he attends today’s meeting?” You questioned, turning over the metal key in your hand.

“If Boss isn’t up, can you make sure he is?” Shinobu explained. “The key is yours to keep, just make sure he doesn’t miss any more meetings.”

“Uhm…” You looked down at the key for another minute before responding to Shinobu. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Great.” She responded, immediately switching her focus to another task as she poured over papers on her desk.

You immediately walked over to Itto’s house, nervous about the huge level of trust Kuki Shinobu must have in you to be giving you Itto’s house key.

‘Just make sure he doesn’t miss any more meetings.’

Shinobu’s words echoed in your head as you reached his front door. Afraid of invading your Boss’s privacy, you thought it would be best to knock first. You gave three loud raps on the door, and almost immediately a voice called from inside.

“Come in, the door’s open!” Itto’s voice came from inside. You turned the doorknob, thankful that you didn’t need to use the key that still sat in your back pocket. “I usually leave it unlocked in case anyone wants to stop by!”

“Uhm, is that safe, Mr. Arataki?” You asked, following the sound of his voice and clattering pots and pans to his kitchen. There he was, cooking up a storm. His jacket hung on the back of a chair at his dining table, an apron tied around his waist instead.

“Mr. Arataki? Are you calling me a Mister?” Itto asked, looking up from the stovetop where he seemed to be cooking something. He paused for a moment, then the realization dawned that you were referring to him. “Oh, of course! It must be because I'm the best.”

You laughed, now completely acclimated to Itto’s unusual personality.

“Yes, uhm, Miss Kuki sent me here because you have an important meeting soon,”

“Oh yeah, yeah! Of course, I totally do have a meeting!” Itto waved the cooking spoon he held in his hand. “Uhm, I’m sure they won’t mind if I’m a little late. I made breakfast, after all!”

You glanced over at the mess of pots and pans, only to see two beautifully decorated dishes of Yakisoba bread.

“Here, sit down and have a plate, I’m sure you’ll love it!” Itto untied his apron, showing off his toned back as he reached for the two plates and carried them over to the table. “I call it ‘way of the strong’, it’s the perfect breakfast for champions!”

“You made two servings?” You questioned, staring at the beautiful dish he set down in front of you.

“Uhh, I had extra ingredients, so I thought I should make it all!” Itto responded awkwardly as he settled into the chair beside you. He didn’t want to tell you that he normally ate both servings whenever he cooked himself breakfast.

Without even realizing it, your mouth began to water as you smelled the delicious meal.

“Go ahead, dig in!” Itto encouraged you, waiting eagerly for you to taste his cooking.

As soon as you took your first bite, you began to scarf down the meal as if you hadn’t eaten for a week. The food was delicious. Given Itto’s stupidity he had demonstrated over and over throughout your time working for him, he was somehow an amazing cook, and this fact blew you away.

“Mmmm!” You smiled, your eyes lighting up as you devoured his food.

A smile grew across Itto’s face, despite still chewing on a mouthful of food.

“See, it’s definitely worth being late!” Itto spoke before he swallowed his food, making his words come out muffled.

“Mhm.” You nodded enthusiastically, your mouth also full of food.

~~~

For the next several weeks, you began to form a habit of visiting Itto in the mornings. He was almost always cooking something, and somehow always had extras he insisted you should try. Over time you began to realize being Itto’s assistant wasn’t actually that bad… his strange personality finally began to grow on you.

However, today, you walked into Itto’s house to find it completely silent. There was no cheerful voice welcoming you inside, and no loud sounds coming from the kitchen. This was actually the case for the past couple of days… You would have to find your way up to the bedroom and bang on the door until you heard Itto shout from inside that he was awake.

“Mr. Arataki, you have a meeting soon, please wake up!” You called.

Almost immediately, you heard a loud groan come from the other side of the door.

“I’m up!” Itto’s voice was gravelly, thick with sleep.

This morning routine was far less fun than before. Not to mention, you would have to wait for several minutes before Itto finally emerged from his bedroom, disheveled, hair messy and eyes tired.

“Didn’t sleep well again?” You asked as your gaze scanned down Itto’s body, eyes lingering on the dark circles that grew beneath the Oni’s eyes.

“Y-yeah, I think I didn’t get much sleep.” Itto responded groggily, rubbing his eyes as he followed you out of his house and down the path towards the gang’s meeting room.

“I’ll bring you some Chamomile tea, it normally helps me a lot!” You responded cheerfully.

“Oh, thank you!” Itto gave you a slight smile, but began to pick his pace up. “We’re not too late, are we?”

“I’m sure we’re fine, don’t worry Mr. Arataki.”

~~~

The meeting seemed to begin just fine, although Itto definitely looked more tired and dazed than before. As Shinobu talked through the important details for the week ahead, you raised your arm to ask a question.

“Ms Kuki, will Mr. Arataki be helping-” an abrupt bang interrupted your sentence. You nearly fell out of your seat as you jumped from the noise, but looked over to see that it was Itto who had slammed his hands onto the table all of a sudden. He shot up from his chair then bolted for the door, something seeming to be on his mind.

“Boss?” Shinobu spoke, but Itto was long gone. She sighed as she turned towards you. “Can you go after him and make sure he’s fine?”

“Is it normal for him to act like this?” You questioned. You had noticed that his personality had begun to change recently, but today was completely different than before.

“Actually, we’ve never seen him like this before…” Shinobu responded. “Would you be able to find out what’s going on?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” you stood from the table and bowed before leaving the meeting room and searching for Itto.

You ran down the dirt path, scanning for Itto’s head of messy white hair. You managed to spot him on the path that led to his house, so you picked up the pace and called out to him.

“Mr. Arataki, are you okay?”

Itto seemed to bristle at the sound of your voice, immediately picking up the pace. You began to speed up as well, running after him since you didn’t know what was wrong.

“We just want to know if everything is alright!” You exclaimed, chasing after the Oni who only seemed to pick up his pace even more. Since Itto towered above most people at a shocking seven feet tall, his strides were far longer than yours which made it extremely difficult to keep up. You were a fast runner, but you didn’t know how much longer you could keep this up for.

Before you knew it, you were following Itto up his front steps and into his house. You raced up the stairs after him and watched him run into his bedroom.

Before you had the chance to reach his bedroom door, Itto slammed it shut, the hinges rattling violently against the doorframe.

“Sorry, door!” Itto shouted from inside.

“Is everything okay, Mr. Arataki?” You became more worried as you heard a pained groan from his bedroom.

“Uhhh, I’m fine, I just uhm… forgot to feed my Onikabuto that’s all!” Itto shouted awkwardly, as you heard shuffling and rattling coming from inside his bedroom. You heard the fluttering of bedsheets and the creaking of his bed, and wondered what on Teyvat Itto could be up to in there.

“Oh… Okay, if you’re alright, I’ll just head back then.” You spoke through the closed door, somehow feeling a little unsettled despite Itto’s insistence that he was alright.

The walk back felt strange. As soon as you walked back into the meeting room, everyone’s eyes were on you. Several people accosted you with questions too quickly for you to answer them.

“Is boss okay?”

“I’ve never seen him run out of a meeting like that before!”

“He looked upset!”

“Calm down, everyone, let Y/N speak.” Shinobu interrupted the group. Everyone fell silent as they looked at you, eagerly awaiting your explanation.

“I think Mr. Arataki hasn’t had enough sleep, so he forgot to feed his Onikabuto.” You explained.

“Oh, of course!”

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

“No, not his prized Onikabuto!”

“I’m glad he’s alright!”

Chatter began to fill the room as the tension instantly dissolved at your explanation. The gang members returned to their own conversations, but Shinobu seemed skeptical of your explanation.

“Boss normally sleeps like a baby.” She told you, “There’s probably a reason why he’s not sleeping well. Can you make sure he’s alright? I’ll treat the both of you to Ramen tonight.”

“O-okay, I’ll check on him later.” You responded, a little unsure about how you’d manage to get Itto to leave his room again.

~~~

Now that the sun was sinking lower in the sky, you approached the front door to Itto’s house once again. You needed to get your boss out of the house and make sure he was alright, and you were certain the prospect of Ramen would coerce Itto out of his bedroom easily.

However, as you turned the doorknob to his house, you realized it was actually locked.

In all your weeks of coming over to Itto’s house, his door was always unlocked. He never seemed to care about his own safety, but you figured it was since pretty much no petty criminal or monster had a chance of beating the 7-foot tall Oni stacked with muscle. Not to mention, your boss had very few material possessions – and the ones he actually cared about were his Onikabuto and trading cards.

For the first time, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the house key Shinobu had given you. You unlocked the front door, quietly swinging it open as you stepped inside.

You wondered why the door was locked… peering into the house, everything seemed to be in the same position as always. You crept through the hallway and back up the stairs, noticing Itto’s bedroom door was also closed, meaning he must be inside since Itto never closed doors behind him whenever he would leave.

You knocked on the door gently, calling out to your boss.

“Shinobu says she’ll treat us both to ramen, but only if you get out of bed!” You spoke loudly, reaching over to open the door. You stepped into Itto’s room, only to find that the place was far messier than you had ever seen before. There were feathers and torn pieces of fabric on the floor, evidently the remnants of what was once a pillow. Itto’s jacket was thrown haphazardly on the floor, alongside his gloves and bracelets. His purple shirt had also been thrown across the room, hanging over the windowsill that showed the setting sun outside. But what was likely the most striking difference was the rather large hole in the far wall, that looked like someone had simply punched through the wooden boards of the Inazuman home.

You disregarded this, instead striding over to the mountain of blankets on top of Itto’s bed. You could tell he was in there – one of his horns had poked a hole through the blanket.

“Come on, Mr. Arataki, get out of bed!” You reached towards the blankets, hearing him whine from under the covers.

“I don’t wanna…” He complained, grabbing the edge of his blanket and pulling it tighter around him.

You sighed, fed up with his unusual behavior.

“Fine, then. I’ll just drag you out of bed myself.” You grabbed onto Itto’s wrist, yanking him away from the bed with all your might. You weren’t weak, but Itto was a huge Oni, and it took all your strength just to slide him off the bed.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Itto shouted as he slipped off of the bed, arms flailing and knocking you off balance. “Stop, Y/N!”

You stumbled backwards, caught off balance by Itto’s sudden movements. You fell backwards onto the floor, followed by the Oni who landed on top of you with a loud crash.

You squeezed your eyes shut, expecting to be crushed by Itto’s heavy body, but he somehow managed to land with his hands and knees on either side of your body, catching his torso before it could fall on top of yours.

“Hey!” You blurted out, looking up at Itto��s face that burned bright red. He seemed to be out of breath, his chest heaving as he stared back down at you.

“A-ah I- I’m sorry!” Itto stuttered, his face reddening further. “I- I- don’t know what’s going on-”

That’s when you could feel it.

Something inside his pants was pressing against your thigh, and it was definitely not his leg. It twitched slightly, and Itto let out a whimper at the same time. Your eyes went wide as you realized you were feeling his dick.

Itto saw the look on your face, and his gaze immediately shifted to the floor.

“I- I’m sorry, normally this just happens when I need to pee in the mornings but now it’s happening all the time and for some reason I can’t pee it’s so bad it hurts and I can’t get it to go down I don’t know what to do or how to stop it from hurting it’s making me go crazy and sometimes I can’t even think at all it hurts so bad-”

Your jaw dropped open as you realized what Itto was saying through his nervous mumbling.

“A Rut…” You murmured, glancing around his room. It all made sense now.

“A what?” Itto questioned, his voice cracking.

“I think you’re in a rut.” You stated matter-of-factly. “Have you ever had this before? How long have you been feeling like this?”

“N-no, never! It’s been like this for almost a week… but it’s getting worse and worse I don’t know what to do-”

“A week?! And you… don’t know what to do?” You raised an eyebrow at Itto’s explanation. Firstly, from what little you knew about the subject, you understood that only a few unsatiated days would drive anyone in a state like his insane. But secondly, Itto sounded like he had no idea what was even going on with his body. “Like, you don’t know what to do when your dick is hard?”

“What do you mean? You’re supposed to wait until it goes away.” Itto spoke bluntly, and you stared up at him in disbelief.

“Mr. Arataki, do you really think it’s gonna go away this time if you just wait?” You felt his member pulse against your leg.

“N-not when you say my name like that,” Itto whined, “I don’t know why it keeps making it worse.”

You began to blush fiercely at his statement. Itto hung his head, groaning from the pain he was subjecting himself to. Did he really enjoy the way you said his name like that… all this time?

And… Why were you happy he liked it that much?

You opened your mouth to speak, but you suddenly became flustered as you thought about what you were going to say.

“Boss…” you called, and Itto’s ruby gaze lifted to meet yours. “Do you want me to help you? I can show you how to uhm…” Your gaze traveled to his dick that was straining against his pants. “Help it.”

“Yes, please, anything to help me!” Itto nearly cried with desperation as he begged.

“Are you sure?” you asked, your tone serious. “You have to be sure.”

“I’m sure, please Y/N, I’m completely sure!”

At his confirmation, you rubbed your leg against Itto’s painfully hard member. A pleasure-filled whine escaped his lips, surprising the both of you and sending heat straight to your core.

“W-why does it feel so good,” Itto groaned, gasping as you began to rub your leg back and forth.

“You’re telling me that you’ve never jerked yourself off before?” You asked bluntly.

“N-no, touching it is inappropriate!” Itto cried, realizing that what you were doing to him was dirty. “B-but why does it feel so good?”

“If you want me to stop, tell me.” You stated frankly, your thigh continuing to stroke him through his pants.

“N-no…” Itto murmured, squeezing his eyes shut and dropping his head. “Keep going…”

“Okay.” You hooked your fingers around his collar, dragging his head down so your lips could meet his.

“Mmh!” Itto groaned, his dick twitching against your thigh as his lips mashed against yours. Your lips caught on one of his sharp canines, eliciting a moan from yourself.

Itto had no clue what he was doing. He knew that people kissed, but he didn’t know it was anything more than putting your lips on top of someone else’s. So when your tongue slipped past his lips and began to roam his mouth, his arms began to shake.

Itto tried his best not to fall over as he moved his arms to rest his elbows on either side of your head. He was glad he did it when you began to slide one hand down his stomach until it reached his waistband. He felt like he was going to fall over as he felt you fumble with his belt. Somehow you managed to undo it while also exploring his mouth with your tongue.

Itto let out a low-pitched moan as he felt your hand slip into his pants, your cold fingers sliding down and wrapping around his cock. Itto seemed to malfunction as you stroked up and down his length. He broke from the kiss, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes as he moaned.

“Haah… o-oh my…shit Y/N, it’s so go~od…”

“Too good?” You asked, loosening your grip and slowing your movements.

“N-no!!” Itto snapped his head up to look at you, his eyes filled with fear of the possibility of you stopping whatever magic you were doing to him. “Keep- keep going…please…” Itto trailed off into a whisper, but was swiftly cut off with a loud gasp as you touched him again, beginning to push his hips into your hand almost instinctively.

“Okay, follow my lead.” You began to sit up, pushing Itto until he was sitting upright on the floor with his back against his bed frame. You began to loosen his belt, unzipping his pants and carefully freeing his member. No matter how careful you were, once it escaped his pants it slapped against his stomach, eliciting yet another hitched breath from the poor Oni’s mouth.

You stared at what you had just released – you could feel its large size from when you held it inside his pants, but only now were you able to see the red markings that wove its way from his lower stomach down to the tip of his angry, hard, and already leaking cock. You had never seen an Oni’s manhood before… despite the intimidating size, it was beautiful.

“Ngh…” Itto groaned as you closed your hand around him, stroking up and down his length. “...Feels so good…”

You trailed your gaze up to Itto’s face, where he was struggling between eagerly watching your movements with his eyes, and shutting them to fall fully into the incredible sensation. Itto’s half-lidded crimson eyes met with yours as you continued, your hand gripping tighter and pumping faster. You could feel his dick twitch as he panted from the pleasure.

“So, this is what you do when it gets this way.” You spoke calmly, ignoring the wetness that grew in your own underwear.

“Aahh…” Itto gasped, “Why did nobody tell me this?”

“It’s something you should really figure out on your own, dumbass.” You smirked as you shifted in your seat. You pressed your thighs together, trying not to reveal that you were also getting turned on.

Itto groaned louder, leaning his head backwards to rest on top of his bed. You could feel his dick pulsating harder… The Oni squeezed his eyes shut, panting harder, confused about this new feeling that seemed to send stars into his vision.

“S-something’s happening, w-wait- FUCK!” Itto exclaimed, his chest shuddering as he felt something build up in his lower abdomen. It was good – almost too good. He dug his fingernails into the wooden floor, leaving deep scratches with his sharp nails.

“It’s okay, let it happen.” You spoke soothingly, giving a couple fast pumps before Itto climaxed into your hand.

Thick and hot ropes of white burst from Itto’s swollen cock, the member twitching and throbbing like nothing the poor Oni had ever experienced before. He moaned, his voice quivering, tears pricking at his eyes from the intense pleasure.

It took him several seconds to regain his senses; you tried not to touch his overly-sensitive member as cum continued to spill from it in short spurts. It was a surprisingly large amount; but then again, Itto wasn’t exactly human.

“A-ah, I’m sorry…” Itto whimpered as he picked his head up to meet your eyes. “I don’t know what that was…”

“It’s called an orgasm, and this is cum.” You spoke, holding up your hand covered in white. “It’s a normal thing for… adults to do.”

“An orgasm?” Itto spoke in disbelief. “It felt like I died and went to heaven.”

You laughed. “That’s what orgasms feel like, dummy.”

“I wanna do it again.” Itto spoke, and that’s when you noticed his ruby eyes still half-lidded with desire. “Holy shit… You smell so good… how did I not notice it before..?”

Your thighs squeezed together at Itto’s statement.

“Wh- I smell good?” You stuttered, your eyes drifting down to his cock that was still standing completely erect. He began to push himself away from the bed to lean closer to you, dipping his head down to your neck to take a deep breath in.

“I don’t know what it is…” Itto murmured, “you smell like, really good.”

Your eyes widened as you looked down at your lap. You realized he could smell your arousal.

“Please, can you keep going?” Itto’s voice was barely more than a whisper, but his pleas sent heat straight to your core.

“I suppose…” You trailed off, staring down at his still-swollen manhood. “I could show you something more.”

“More?” Itto asked, bringing his head back to look you in the eyes. “There’s more?”

You laughed, still in shock that Itto, one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen, could be this clueless when it came to sex.

“Yes, of course there’s more. There’s endless things you can do when it comes to sex.”

“Sex? Like the bad word?” Itto questioned.

“Yes, this is what it means.” You responded, surprised by your ability to remain stoic. You wrapped your hand back around his cock, stroking Itto with his own climax.

“Ahh, it feels even better-” Itto whined, “Why does it feel even better-”

“Because now it’s wet.” You spoke plainly, listening to the squelching noises you made with your hand.

“Nghh…” Itto began to shift his hips, trying to buck into your hand.

“Tsk tsk,” you released your grip. “Stay still. Let me guide you.”

“O-okay,” Itto agreed, settling back onto the floor so you could continue stroking him. You used your free hand to fumble with the bottom half of your clothing, undoing your buttons and buckles. As you began to peel off your clothes one-handedly, the smell of your arousal hit him like a truck.

“W-what are you doing?” Itto whined, staring at the skin of your upper thighs that you had revealed.

“I think this might feel a lot better for you.” You spoke. “Do you want to try putting it inside me?”

“Wait, wait.” Itto’s eyes widened. “It’s not gonna hurt you, is it?”

“Not if we do it slowly.” You responded, taking your hand off of Itto’s member to slide your undergarments off of your legs.

Itto held back a whimper as you crawled closer to him – he could feel the heat radiating off of your skin and smell the salty-sweet scent of your arousal. You began to straddle his hips, lowering your core until your lips met the tip of his leaking cock.

“Now tell me if you want to stop.” You spoke, surprising yourself with how calm you were acting. Ever since you saw his manhood, you had wanted it inside of you. You craved it so badly, you didn’t know if you’d be able to hold back if he told you no.

Itto nodded, staring down at your bare legs, digging his nails into the wooden floor even more to avoid digging them into the plush of your thighs. He didn’t know where these aggressive, lewd, lustful thoughts were coming from – but he couldn’t stop them.

“Ah-!” Itto’s eyes went wide as you began to sink down onto his dick. You were so hot, so wet, and you squeezed him like nothing else as your pussy slowly began to stretch around his length.

You let out the faintest whimper at the stretching sensation, not used to anything near his size. It bordered on painful, but you were so turned on that you had to stop yourself from pushing too far too soon. Itto’s ears pricked at the sound, the sensation going straight to his erection.

“A- are you okay?” Itto groaned, trying his best to remain calm as you sank down onto him.

“Y-yeah, it feels good.” You blushed, sinking slightly further down. It already felt like he was filling you completely, but you knew you weren’t even halfway down his length.

Itto stared down at his dick, watching you swallow more and more of it as you sank down. It was so warm, so wet, he thought he might already orgasm again.

You felt like you couldn’t fit any more of him in despite only having half of his length inside you – you felt too full, and it was getting difficult to continue to slide down over the widest part in the middle of his shaft. You decided to stop there, shifting your legs to kneel comfortably on the floor. You began to move back up, until only the tip remained inside. Itto watched you, his ruby eyes fixed on your heat, staring at the strings of slick you left behind on him. What he didn’t expect, however, was for you to start moving up and down on him.

“Hnn, ahh,” Itto panted, pleasure building up all too fast from how you moved, making him enter you over and over again. It felt like he was being swallowed up by the heat radiating from your pussy.

You began to move faster, bouncing off of your heels to keep up your momentum. Itto’s pants turned into moans and whines as he gripped onto the bed frame behind him in an attempt to avoid bucking his hips up into you. You had told him to stay still, and he would do his best to stay still.

You could feel your own climax begin to build as you moved – it got harder and harder to keep up your pace, your head clouding with lust from the sensation of being stretched and filled over and over. Your legs began to shake as you tried to continue, your stamina running low, pleasure beginning to take over your body.

“Ah, it’s gonna happen again-” Itto whimpered, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he struggled to maintain his composure. Itto’s desperation made you smirk. You didn’t realize you could have such a huge and strong Oni quivering so helplessly below you. Trying your best to keep moving, you bounced over and over until you couldn’t suppress your own moans anymore.

With a cry, Itto’s hands flew up to your thighs, his nails biting into the fat of your thighs. He couldn’t help it anymore; he came hard, his cock pulsating as it unloaded inside of you.

You could feel the warmth spreading inside you. His load was huge; it made you shudder, pushing you further towards your own climax.

“Ahh- Mr. Arataki, not inside…” You whined, realizing that you probably should have told him to not finish inside of you. But for some reason, you found it pleasurable – you enjoyed the sensation of his hot release filling you.

“A-ah, I’m sorry!” Itto’s eyes grew wide as his face turned bright red, his grip loosening as he began to lift you up and off of him.

“I-it’s okay.” You spoke, whimpering at the empty sensation he left inside you, “It’s already done.” You moved your hands to cover Itto’s that were placed on your thighs.

“O-oh,” Itto murmured, “that’s good, because I don’t wanna stop just yet…” He lifted his hips slightly, pushing back inside of you.

“Aah, again?” You gasped at the sensation of being filled again.

“O-only if you want to!” Itto stopped moving, his gaze snapping to meet yours, worried that he was hurting or upsetting you. You began to chuckle. You haven’t orgasmed yet, but you were close, and Itto’s hesitation was beginning to drive you crazy.

“Of course I want to continue, dumbass.”

“Oh, o-okay!” Itto nodded, “C-can I move, this time?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed a little too loudly as you collapsed and rested all your weight onto Itto’s hips. With the load of cum inside you and the sex you just had, you were able to slide slightly lower down Itto’s length.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Itto asked, worried about the way you seemed to squirm on his dick.

“Yes, I’m fine…” You spoke, staring at him through half-lidded eyes. “It feels really good for me too.”

“O-okay. I’ll try to go slow…” Itto could feel himself twitch inside of you at the sound of your voice. The way you told him it felt good turned him on far too much. He wanted to move so desperately, to just go wild and pummel into you like you were a ragdoll. However, he knew he would only hurt you if he did that. And so, with as much restraint as he could muster, he slowly pushed his hips up into you and then back out.

“If you keep up a rhythm like I did, it feels goo-” You were caught off guard as Itto picked up his pace to match what you had done before. “-aah~”

You closed your eyes, the pleasure stealing away your vision. As Itto began to thrust deeper and deeper into you, he began to reach a part of you that you never thought existed. The pleasure built up in your core and made you feel like you could pass out. You had finally taken in all of him, the Oni bottoming out with each thrust, his inhuman size completely filling you.

You lost control of your speech – gasps and moans left your mouth that you would be humiliated of in any other situation. Yet somehow, Itto found the noises you made so enticing… he didn’t know why, but it felt like you were urging him on to go faster and faster.

“Hng! A-ahn, hahh~” You couldn’t focus on anything as Itto continued his rhythm. He squeezed your thighs harder, his hips slapping against the plush of your ass with each thrust. He looked down, watching himself enter you over and over, eyeing the strings of cum that slipped out of you and began to make a mess on his pants and the floor.

“F-fuck, Y/N-” Itto gasped, “You’re so…”

You could feel your own climax encroaching, and you began to lose control over your balance. You didn’t know why… but your hands flew up to grab onto the horns on his head.

“-Aah, fuck!” Itto cried, not knowing why his horns were so sensitive – or why they felt so good when you held onto them. He tried his best to continue at the pace he started but everything you did seemed to push him to just let loose.

The pressure in your core, the snap of Itto’s hips against your ass, and the iron grip of his hands on your thighs sent you over the edge. You wailed as you came hard, your walls convulsing around his cock like nothing you felt before.

“Fuckfuckfuck Y/N you’re squeezing me too hard-” Itto cried, gasping at the sudden tightness around him. He couldn’t move anymore; your orgasm was constricting him too much. He fell still, resting your hips on top of his own. In the throes of your orgasm, you had finally been able to take all of him, now settling down at the bottom of his shaft. You felt like all your energy was gone as you slumped forwards against Itto’s chest.

“Ahn, Itto… so good…” You hummed, resting your head against his soft chest, almost forgetting that you were still inside him and that he was still very turned on. Your grip around the Oni’s horns loosened, your arms falling down to your sides.

“W-wait what happened, are you alright?” Itto asked, his voice reverberating through his chest as he spoke, his ruby eyes scanning over your body to see if anything was wrong.

“No, ‘m fine…” You murmured. “Just had an orgasm too…”

“Oh-” Itto’s mouth formed an o-shape, his eyes widening as he realized what had just happened. “D-does it feel good for you too?”

“So good…” You hummed, your head resting on his chest.

Itto released his grip on your thighs, wrapping his arms around your torso and carefully standing up while still inside you. He turned carefully and set you down on the bed, trying his best not to hurt you in the process.

“Can I… continue?” Itto asked, and you gazed up at the Oni who stood above you. You nodded, and he slowly began to pull out of you.

An empty feeling began to take over you as you watched him pull his entire length out of you. It was coated in a thick and white mixture of his cum and yours, but you realized something that shocked you – he seemed to be even bigger than before, despite cumming twice already. On top of that, he seemed to be all too eager to continue, making you wonder just what kind of libido an Oni might have while in his rut.

“You smell… so good…” Itto began to bend down, his head dipping between your legs as he smelled your leaking cunt.

“A-ah, Itto, not there-” Your sentence was cut off by a moan as you felt his wet tongue slide across your entrance. Itto licked a strip up your lips, gathering the mixture of climaxes in his mouth, the taste and smell going straight to his head.

“H-hey!” You grabbed both of his horns, pulling his head away from your pussy. When you saw the slick running down his chin and the lust in his eyes you realized the smell of sex must be some sort of aphrodisiac for him.

“I want more…” The white-haired Oni whined, sending a fierce blush across your face and turning you on again.

“Me too…” you responded, beginning to get up from where you laid on the bed. You rolled over and got onto all fours, showing Itto a new view of your entrance. You reached one hand back, fingers probing gently at your entrance, putting yourself on display for him. “Here, you can put it-”

Itto didn’t seem to need instruction. He pressed his engorged cock into you again, the sensation of being speared open by something so huge cutting off your sentence with a gasp. He wasted no time pressing further, fully sheathing himself inside of you within seconds.

“Ahn, Itto~” You moaned, shocked that you could take something his size just like that. “S-so big…”

As Itto began to move, attempting to replicate the same pace as before, you felt fuller and fuller. He hadn’t been moving for long when you realized your arms and legs were already shaking. His hands subconsciously went to your hips, and you were thankful for the support as you leaned into his grip.

Itto’s hips began to make noise as they snapped against your ass, the skin-on-skin slapping growing wetter and wetter. Somehow, despite being completely inexperienced, Itto was excellent at holding his pace – so excellent that you couldn’t maintain your composure. As he fucked into you, your arms failed. You fell face-first onto his bed, your shoulders and chest resting on the soft mattress. Your back was now arched as Itto continued to hold your hips in the same place before.

You let out a garbled moan as Itto lifted your hips and pulled you backwards, your legs now dangling off the side of the bed so he could enter you more easily. Your ass was now facing the ceiling; this angle made your eyes roll back in your head.

Your head was so clouded with lust that you couldn’t spare a thought to wonder how Itto could do this with no experience whatsoever; neither of you knew just how much his Oni instincts were taking over. He relentlessly pounded into you again and again, losing all restraint. It felt so good. The sounds of skin slapping on skin, the wet sounds of his cock bullying into your pussy, and your moans mixed together into a lewd symphony inside his head that made him want to keep going and going.

Itto panted as he neared another climax, completely unaware that he was pushing you towards yours as well. You wailed, the sensation of being filled to the brim over and over sending stars into your vision. He had begun to thrust harder; the impact of his hips against your ass would send you flying if it wasn’t for his iron grip on your upper thighs.

As Itto reached the precipice of orgasm, you could feel him swell. The Oni moved his hands, using one arm to hook under your hips as he planted his other palm on the mattress beside your head. His movements fell still as he bent down and placed his lips against the nape of your neck. You felt a sharp pinch – Itto had bitten into your delicate skin, his fangs drawing blood. At the same time, however, you felt his cock swell and twitch as something warm spread inside you; he had bitten you at the same time that he came.

His lips remained planted firmly on your neck, eliciting a moan of both pain and pleasure from you. After a few moments, Itto began to move again, stirring the cum inside of you. You whimpered at the feeling, surprised at how animalistic he was acting.

Itto released you, leaning back and slowly removing his length from you. You could feel a thick liquid leaking out of your entrance and hear it dripping onto the mattress, as Itto finally set you down on the bed and rolled you over onto your back.

You stared up at the Oni, noticing the red tinge to his lips that you could only guess was your own blood. His hair was even more unruly than normal, and his expression was glazed over with desire. He didn’t utter a single word as he grabbed your thighs once again, the sharp edges of his nails digging painfully into your flesh.

He pushed your thighs up and against your chest, exposing your abused entrance yet again. You glanced down at Itto’s member – it was even bigger than before, particularly towards the middle.

“Hahhh- Itto, will that even fi-” You were cut off again as he bullied his way into your cunt, filling you completely, hitting a very different spot inside of you. “Ahn, Itto!”

You didn’t have any time to adjust to the new, better feeling. His thrusts were fast, needy, hard. He pummeled into you relentlessly, pressing your knees into your chest harder, his nails digging into the fat of your thighs. Your moans began to turn into screams of pleasure. You’ve never felt this way before – and never expected to feel this way from someone who was a complete virgin. Your body shook as his hips snapped against your ass, the movements needy and hungry.

“Itto~ Aah!” You cried, tears welling up in your eyes from the overstimulation. You came hard, almost too hard for you to handle, the avalanche of pleasure combined with Itto’s unrelenting movements forcing fat tears to roll down your face as you wailed. Your walls clenched around him, but he continued pummeling into you without any indication of stopping.

There was something feral about the way Itto moved, his grunts as he thrusted, the wild look in his eyes. You had never seen someone with this kind of stamina, with this kind of animalistic desire. You gasped as you felt him grow even larger, a bulge beginning to grow at the base of his length, stretching you further as it popped in and out of you wetly. It grew bigger until it became stuck inside you, Itto no longer being able to pull his engorged cock out of your abused pussy. You were stretched so tightly around it that nothing escaped, even his final release.

Itto groaned as he came and his movements finally fell still. He collapsed on top of you, his arms landing on either side of your body to prevent his weight from crushing you. He unloaded a final time inside of you, his member twitching as hot ropes of cum painted your insides, this time trapped inside of you by the huge knot at the base.

“Hahhh… ‘m so tired…” Itto sighed, his hot breath blowing across your neck. He buried his face into the nape of your neck where he had bitten you, pressing his lips gently against the bleeding bite mark.

“W-what was that,” You murmured, staring up at the ceiling as you finally came down from your high..

“Dunno…” Itto mumbled, “but now I can’t pull it out… ‘n I’m sleepy…”

The Oni relaxed and you felt more of his weight shift on top of you. His breathing became more even, and it sounded to you like he had just fallen asleep.

“I-Itto?” You whispered, looking to the side to see his eyes peacefully closed.

It was weirdly characteristic of your boss to pass out on top of you after fucking you silly.

You smiled to yourself, finally closing your eyes as well.

‘I suppose I’ll have to apologize to Miss Kuki tomorrow…’ You thought to yourself as you drifted off.

~~~

The next morning, you woke up in a different position. You were underneath heaps of blankets, wrapped in something very soft and warm. You opened your eyes to see that you were inside Itto’s (pretty much destroyed) bedroom. The clothes you were wearing – if you could call it that – were hanging off of you like rags. You didn’t realize the sex you had the previous evening was that crazy. There were bite marks and scratches that littered what skin was visible above the blankets, and you dreaded seeing how you felt once you started walking.

You shifted in place, and heard a loud creak. you looked down to see the bed was sloped at an unusual angle, evidence that the entire bed frame had been broken. You looked around to see scraps of yours and Itto’s clothes littered across the floor. You tried sitting up to get a better look, but felt something slightly tighten around you as you moved. That was when you realized Itto was sleeping behind you, his arms wrapped around your torso, hugging you close to his chest. You turned your head to see his serene face, feeling his messy yet soft hair tickle your face and neck.

You smiled. Arataki Itto really was a good guy, no matter how dumb. You decided it was likely a good idea to slip out before he woke up, since there’d be no doubt he would feel bad for what he did to you last night if he was awake to see the state of your body. Besides, you had to somehow get home and shower before you needed to turn up for work.

You began to shift slightly, figuring out a good angle to slip out of his grasp and inch out of bed.

“Don’t go…” Itto murmured, his voice raspy and deep from sleep. It was as if he could sense you were trying to leave, even though he wasn’t fully awake – he hadn’t even opened his eyes yet.

“H-huh?” you stuttered, confused. You believed you were only there to help him with his… unique problem. So when Itto held you close the next morning, you didn’t understand why.

“I like you a lot… I've liked you since I first laid eyes on you.” Itto finally opened his eyes, giving you a soft smile. Your gaze traveled up to meet his sleepy ruby eyes.

“You mean when I stopped you from eating beans?” You scoffed, but you couldn’t stop the smile that grew across your face.

“Yeah, you saved my life! How could I not fall head over heels for you?”

“You do realize that I’d already been working for you for like… three weeks when that happened.” You quipped.

“Hey, that was the first time I noticed you!” Itto whined, and you never expected to say the words that came out of your mouth next.

“Well, I’m glad you finally noticed me.” You moved one hand up to run your fingers through his unruly hair. “And I like you too.”

You laid a sweet peck on his forehead then retreated back under the covers, nuzzling your face into Itto’s chest and closing your eyes again. Work could wait.

~~~

Bonus: The Previous Night

Kuki Shinobu hadn’t heard from you in a couple hours. It was beginning to get dark, and she wondered if you had given up on trying to get Itto to leave his room. She decided to turn up at his house and check to see if he was still there.

As she approached the house, she could hear strange sounds coming from the upstairs window that happened to be completely open. Itto’s purple undershirt was hanging out of the window, and a dim light came from inside… Shinobu knew that meant Itto must be at home. However, as she got closer, she could hear someone else inside.

“Ahn, Itto~”

That sounded like your voice… she wondered why you would still be at his house, when you told her you would go fetch Itto hours ago. However, your voice sounded a little unusual.

“S-so big…” Your voice sounded more like a moan, and Shinobu’s eyes went round with shock as she heard Itto speak next.

“A-ah, Y/N you feel so good!”

Shinobu had to slap a hand over her mouth to stop her from making a noise of death. She spun on her heels and ran away, completely scarred by what she just heard her boss exclaim.

‘Well, at least I know Boss is alright now…’ She thought to herself, nauseated at the thought of what he and you were likely doing right now.

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