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poisonf0rest · 3 months

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𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐜*𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈𝐈

love and deepspace: zayne x fem!reader

tags: smut, teasing, guided masturbation, fingering, first time (kinda), pwp

word count: 9.3K what the fuck

synopsis: Between being in the midst of your medical residency and being an up-and-coming author, it’s safe to say your personal life has been placed on stand-still. That is, until your editor decided that your next novel needed explicit smut scenes. That is, until your mentor and boss ends up striking a deal for you to help with “inspiration” for said novel. That is, until you fuck Zayne four times and your life changes forever. - partially inspired by manga of the same name by Nae Awaji

original ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57209872/chapters/145519015

art credit: @/kaito_aii

You’re screwed. Fucked. Utterly damned.

Groaning into your desk, you slam your head down upon piles of patient records and old case files.

You’re only halfway done with your medical residency and somewhere along the way turned your lifelong passion for writing into a successful side gig. So successful in fact, that it was single-handedly providing you with enough money to get by and complete residency.

After anonymously posting online for a decade, you signed with a publisher three years ago, on the exact same day you matched with your first choice cardiothoracic residency program here at Akso Hospital.

Needless to say, you haven't felt that magnitude of happiness in years.

You doubt you ever will again.

In the midst of your wallowing, your phone lights up: Michaela. It’s a follow-up to her previous messages, all with the same damn request.

Michaela - Boss Man

checking in on my star, how’s that manuscript going?

talked to the director again to try and plead your case but she didn’t budge :(

she said w current book trends the fans will go crazy for a few explicit spicy scenes

pluuuus she believes in your writing enough to know you’ll make it big! come on, star, you know I’m here if you need any extra help

You - Little Star

Hey Micheala

You cringe for a moment at how formal you sound, but honestly, you’re too burnt out from writer’s block to match your editor’s energy and too tired from today’s shift to push back any further.

You - Little Star

No I get it, thanks for trying though

I’m almost done with the novel, it's just those scenes that are taking a little more time

And by a “little more time,” you mean you’ve tried writing and rewriting them over a dozen times just to cringe, delete, and scream into your keyboard. Over. And over again.

It’s not that you’re clueless, you’ve read your fair share of erotica for inspiration and pleasure equally. But actually writing them yourself? That was a whole different story. Pacing, banter, and even making the right word choices without sounding like a repetitive pervert or absolute lunatic were all so much harder to do than you previously gave authors credit for.

Not to mention, you haven’t actually experienced a lot first-hand.

Beyond a few situationships in high school and undergraduate flings between pre-med classes and internships absolutely kicking your ass, you’re probably half as sexually experienced as most adults your age. And you had absolutely no intention of re-entering the dating scene with residency, until now.

With Michaela breathing down your neck about how these explicit smut scenes were a marketing goldmine and the combined stress from your jobs, it seems like you’ve been fighting a losing battle. This time, however, your main income was on the line.

You groan as another ping lights up your phone, going to silence it when you realize it’s from the hospital Slack and not your editor.

residency-CS-alerts

Dr. Zayne: Second look needed for a CMR scan. Nonurgent.

Jumping to your feet, you sprint from the office wing to get to the MRI’s before another resident can take your spot. It’s not that your program lacked opportunities- far from it as you attend the top program– but rather that this particular opportunity was rare indeed.

Doctor Zayne. Akso Hospital's respected chief cardiac surgeon, who has made groundbreaking advances to the treatment of congenital heart abnormalities in neonates. At only twenty-seven he is the youngest recipient of the Starcatcher Award. His dedication to his craft is unparalleled, as he tirelessly devotes more time to surgeries than any other doctor you know, cementing his reputation as an unwavering force in the field.

He’s also impossibly tall, extremely well built for a man who seems to spend most of his time in the hospital, and has a face sculpted like a Roman deity in marble. And gods, his voice.

Safe to say, you admire him just a little.

You’ve bumped into him a handful of times during your first two years here, but the doctor was so engrossed in his work that the occurrence was rare enough. But a chance to perform with him? To consult alongside him on a cardiovascular case?

You began to fear for your own heart’s safety as you felt it skip in your throat.

Finally reaching the MRIs, you knock once before sliding the door to the control room open with a bow. And when you stand straight again, Dr. Zayne’s steel-set eyes only glance at you before he points to the readings displayed on the computer.

“Tell me what you see.”

Your mouth is still hanging open from what was going to be a very enthusiastic self-introduction, but you cut yourself off with a cough and stumble over to the monitor. Dr. Zayne’s eyes follow you with a precision that makes your hands tremble, and you bend over slightly to scan the patient’s readings.

You’re about ready to make a diagnosis when you realize you haven’t gotten much background on the patient.

“What’s the patient’s briefing?” You look down, flinching as you see Dr. Zayne already staring at you. “If I can hear it, sir?”

He nods once. “An adolescent female with complaints of shortness of breath and coughing. She had no specific medical history, but grew up in the countryside unable to visit a proper clinic for several years while this issue persisted.”

Countryside… that could mean this was an undiagnosed issue that festered.

Clearing your throat, you begin to point to the different scans. “Firstly, there’s clearly an enlarged cardiac silhouette.” Squinting, you point at two denser mounds in CMR scans. “Here and here. There are two large cysts along the lateral and inferior walls of the LV pushing and invading the myocardial walls.”

Gods, the cysts were huge. Even if surgery was performed on her now, would she survive?

Dr. Zayne’s low voice pulls you back into the control room. “Then what is your final diagnosis?”

“I–” you stutter, shaking your head. “I would recommend surgery immediately.”

“More detail than that, please.”

A sharp inhale and you scan the readings again. “Maybe a cannulation? The cysts might be causing an SVC compression, which would explain her shortness of breath.” You dare ask. “Will she survive?”

Dr. Zayne stands up this time. “You did well. She was my patient, and underwent surgery over a week ago.” He gently pats you on the shoulder, touch warm. “Our job as surgeons is to act decisively, to learn, and to try. Not to be heroes.”

You can’t manage to say anything back as Dr. Zayne leaves the room, the door sliding shut behind him.

_______

Surprisingly, you’ve been seeing more and more of Dr. Zayne since that day.

And if that wasn’t enough, the doctor has also been actively acknowledging you, exchanging greetings and simple conversation when you pass in the halls, cafeteria, or shared cardiovascular wing of the hospital.

Not that you haven’t been putting in the effort either.

Dr. Zayne’s current apprentice is graduating from residency this year, and you have every intention of becoming their successor. Between picking up extra shifts, answering every pager call, and of course paying special attention in case Dr. Zayne specifically requests a second pair of hands, you’ve been climbing up the ranks amongst your peers.

Luckily, it seems those efforts have not been in vain.

You’ve been doing so well apparently, that Dr. Zayne wants to meet with you in the hospital’s cafe today. Interviews before officially announcing mentor-mentee pairs was not unusual, but the thought of being one-on-one with Dr. Zayne after your last case together still has your mind reeling.

Will he pull out old case files? Will he bring you to a patient and test you in real time? You have half a mind that he might pull out a custom-made test and timer. It seems on-brand enough to be a possibility.

Yet when you arrive, the cafe is completely empty, save for the staff and a familiar man in a white lab coat.

Dr. Zayne stands as soon as he sees you and beckons for you to sit, pulling the chair across from him out in the same movement. He clears his throat, a barely-there smile gracing his lips as he watches you settle down. “How have you been, doctor?”

“Good! Good.” The words rush out from you and you flinch, forcing yourself to slow down. Was the cafe always this small? “Discharged a patient today, so all good news.” Holy striped cows, if you say the word good one more time you might lose your mind.

“Well,” Dr. Zayne nods, taking a sip of something that looks like a far-too-sweet cup of coffee practically drenched in whipped cream. “That’s certainly good to hear.”

You die a little inside.

“I’ll keep things rather brief since I’ve already made my mind up.”

Was this it? Did you ruin your chance at having Linkon’s top doctor as your mentor because of your damn mouth?

Dr. Zayne reaches inside his jacket, and you swear your heart is going to beat itself out of your throat. He pulls out a simple white envelope with your name scrawled across the front, the paper crisp as he slides it across the table.

His fingers linger on the edges before he speaks. "I wanted to formally offer you the position to shadow me as my apprentice."

"I accept!"

The words fly out before you can stop them and Dr. Zayne looks stunned for a moment before laughing, a smooth and deep sound you didn't expect from him. He looked good when he smiled. Softer, content.

The ghost of the smile stays, even when Zayne speaks again. "It's not a timed offer, you don't have to agree so quickly."

You flush down to your neck, looking down at the envelope. "Right. Only, it would be an honor to learn from you, sir. I really don’t know anyone in our field who wouldn’t accept it."

Zayne hums, but his brows furrow. “You don’t have to call me sir either. Doctor Zayne is fine while we are at the hospital. Zayne is more than acceptable elsewhere, we’re not that far apart in age and I don’t wish for this to be an overly formal relationship.”

You curse your heart for fluttering, reminding yourself that he only means this in a conductive, professional way.

After a beat of silence, Zayne looks at the clock and stands, taking his sugar-filled drink with him. You never pegged him to have such a massive sweet tooth.

"I have a consultation now, but I would like to talk to you more about your residency. We should set up weekly meetings outside of work, check your calendar, and organize it later.”

You nod and thank him as he walks away, leaving you alone to open the envelope. Inside is a simple handwritten note, signed and stamped with Dr. Zayne's official signature alongside Akso Hospital’s.

A reminder that this was, in fact, not a dream.

_______

It’s barely been a month since you’ve begun officially shadowing Zayne, yet you swear it feels as though a part of you has known him forever.

Aside from his virtually frozen demeanor and tendency to make snarky quips at your habit of running your mouth, he’s been nothing but a patient mentor. Brief, direct, unrelenting, but attentive to your work and growth.

If that were all, then everything would be perfect.

If that were all, then you would be sticking perfectly to your ten-year plan: graduating early, completing residency under the top doctor in the top program, and then overtaking him as the top cardiovascular surgeon with a breakthrough of your own.

But of course, the plot has to thicken.

Sure, the first few weeks have been strictly business, but since then, your conversations with Zayne—Dr. Zayne—have morphed into more casual, more playful meetings. Your weekly check-ins have moved from the hospital cafeteria to a cozy family-run cafe in town that Zayne introduced to you. And the way you’ve begun to think of him was the most damning part of it all.

But you don’t have the time nor capacity to deal with whatever this was becoming.

Not when your novel’s deadline was in three weeks, and you still had absolutely nothing to show for it. Without this new novel’s money, you wouldn’t be able to pay for rent or food or transport, and residency sure as hell wasn’t giving you enough to survive off of alone.

This past week, you’ve gone from stressed to a thundering cloud of misery. Snapping at interns, drinking dangerously over the FDA-recommended caffeine intake, and ignoring the maelstrom your face has become.

And of course, today happens to be your weekly check-in with Zayne.

Dragging yourself to your usual booth, you watch him order at the counter and bring his drink to the table alongside a signature pair of macaroons, a slice of chocolate cake, and an eclair. He sets it all down with a huff and sits, looking over at you with an iron-cold gaze. You can smell the incoming lecture.

"You're late."

You dip your head, but your patience is running on reserve, and your reply has more bite than you’d dare use otherwise. "I'm sorry, it looks like I’ve lost track of time."

"You're never late." Zayne doesn't sound any angrier at your attitude, but it still doesn't settle the guilt bubbling in your stomach.

"I've just been really stressed. You know," you wave your hand, "wrapping up residency."

"Is that so." Zayne's gaze is sharp as he fights to maintain eye contact. It's not a question. "I've noticed. You've been distracted and irritated recently, and I can't help but wonder why. Is it really the hospital? Am I demanding too much aside from your typical resident duties?”

You shake your head, and the guilt is back. "No, of course not."

"Then I have to assume it's something else, is it not?"

"It's..." How on earth are you supposed to explain that the reason why you're a mess is because your editor is pressuring you to write a smut scene that you have no interest in, let alone sufficient experience with? And to someone you admire, your mentor, Linkon’s top surgeon, and apparently now someone your heart is deciding to blackmail you with. "I'm sorry, Dr. Zayne. It's nothing work-related, it's not your problem to fix."

Zayne raises his eyebrow, leaning back in the booth and crossing his arms. “That’s the first time you addressed me as doctor outside of hospital property in over a month. ”

You really, really, can’t do this right now, or else you might start spewing some things you’ll regret. “Really? That’s fascinating, sir.” You watch him scowl at the title you know he hates. “Still does not entitle you to my personal issues.”

“As your mentor, it becomes entitled to me when your personal issues begin affecting your performance.” He says.

You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing your anger down. "It's really not something I can talk about here, nor to you. Can we just have a regular check-in?"

"We are."

“You know what?" You stand, chair falling back with a screech. “I think I need a rain check today, sir. You know. Stress.”

"You’re not leaving until you tell me what is bothering you."

You're about to grab your bag and walk away when you're suddenly reminded of how tall Zayne is when he stands. Practically towering over you, he leans across the table, grabbing you firm enough to prevent you from slipping away, yet never harsh enough to harm you. “Please, we’re making a scene.”

You sit. Zayne follows.

Seeing just how reactive you’re being, he softens, genuine concern in his tone as he reaches an arm out. “Is it a family issue? Are you alright?”

“No. Yes.” You inhale deeply through your nose, but your mind is still reeling at a mile a minute. “No, it’s not a family issue.”

“So if it’s not about the hospital and not family, then what could possibly be causing you this much stress.” Zayne’s eyes narrow and you see his jaw tick. “Don’t tell me this foolishness is over a boy.”

“No! God,” you want to push yourself off a building. Or him. “No, it’s this fucking–” You’re rambling. You’re rambling, losing control, and you’re going to blurt it out and regret it. “It’s this smut scene!”

You’ve really outdone yourself this time.

Zayne chokes on his drink and slams the cup down, coughing as liquid comes out his nose. You flounder in panic, trying to help but he holds a hand up and turns, still coughing into his arm. You can only manage to pull out a few napkins, handing them over in a pathetic bundle.

“A…” Zayne almost seems to buffer, clearing his throat before looking back at you. “An erotica scene?”

Your face is burning. You can practically feel the heat radiating off of it in waves, and you have to remind yourself that writing is your job. A respectable, decent-paying, well-appreciated job that you do for the sake of womankind everywhere.

“I write for extra income alongside residency, and recently my editor got it into her head that we’ll sell even more with some extra spice.” You scoff, “But it’s been months of looking at a blank doc. Now the deadline is approaching and I still have nothing to show for it.”

Zayne doesn't say anything for a moment, and you have to check if he's breathing, or if the shock has killed him. Finally, he shifts back in his seat, adjusting his tie.

"That sounds like a difficult position to be in, doctor."

You look up, and Zayne has his arms crossed. It's an expression you're familiar with, one that means he's actually thinking about what you've said, but the way he says "doctor" now feels strange, almost as if the term has no place here.

"It's fine, I'll figure it out." This is also why you didn't want to tell him, as if Zayne has any place worrying about this on your behalf. “Besides, I’m as much a writer as a doctor, this is my job after all. I have to figure it out.”

“Of course. I’d expect no less." Zayne nods a little to himself, slightly dazed, and you scramble to find a way to change the subject back into something even remotely work-appropriate.

"Anyway, I've been keeping up with my rounds, and I think I've been able to handle more cases on my own recently, too."

"You have."

Zayne is quiet for a beat too long and you frown, tapping the table.

"Are you alright? I know this is a lot, I shouldn't have burdened you with it."

When Zayne faces you again, you watch as his brows furrow. "But if this is such a pressing issue…” He clears his throat, looking at a spot directly above your head. “Then, what if I helped you?”

You swear your head is spinning, his words ringing over and over and over in your mind. The only thing remotely in focus was Zayne’s face, far too close for comfort now, even across the table. Oh gods, you’re having this conversation in public, too.

"What do you mean by help, exactly?"

"If you’re in need of experience," Zayne's voice is low, but he still manages to keep eye contact, the intensity of it making you smile nervously. "Then I could offer my assistance. Better coming from someone you know and trust, yes?"

There’s no way you heard that right. Your mind blanks, but apparently your smartass mouth hasn’t.

"Are you offering to be my fuck buddy? Sex consultant? My smut guide, if you will?"

A deadpan, “I would prefer the term sexual partner.”

Even the way Zayne says it makes it sound more like a business proposal than an actual proposition, and it throws you off guard. He leans back, trying to act nonchalant. "You did mention lack of inspiration was your main issue, correct?”

“Well, yes.” That, and your lack of any novel-worthy sexual experiences.

“And you have had—“ There it is again. Not quite embarrassment, and if you weren’t so tuned in to Zayne’s resting expression, you may not have noticed it, but there is a deeper furrow between his brows as his eyes evade yours, and the slightest tint of pink on the tips of his ears. “You have been with partners before, yes?”

The stoic, pragmatic, level-headed Doctor Zayne is embarrassed asking you whether or not you’ve had sex before.

You nearly laugh.

“Yes,” an amused giggle escapes you at the absurdity of this entire conversation. “I’ve been with partners,” you mimic, slightly mocking his word choice, “but it has been a while, and I haven’t really…”

Zayne moves to take another sip of coffee. “You haven’t?”

“I’ve never come. Orgasmed.”

And he chokes. Again.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry!” You jump from your seat to hand him yet another pile of napkins, but this time Zayne stops you halfway there, grabbing your wrist as his coughs subside.

Neither of you speaks as he drinks water and coughs once more, his grip still iron and far colder than you imagined it would feel against your bare skin.

“My apologies,” Zayne releases you immediately, going back to staring at his coffee as his hand flexes once. Twice. “Continue.”

You can only watch him in fascination, sitting back down in your chair. The entire time he avoided eye contact, and he was definitely blushing. You almost wanted to push further, to poke and tease and test his reactions, but you knew that would end with you losing your head. Or worse, you muse, heart fluttering against your chest.

“Ah, I mean, I’ve felt pleasure before. It’s not that my previous partners were unwilling to do stuff for me, I’ve just never gotten over that little plateau.” It’s not resentment that washes over you, and not quite embarrassment either. Just a little bit of dull apathy towards the subject. And yourself. “Biologically speaking of course I know it’s possible, but there are also plenty of women who simply don’t climax during sex. I’m probably just one of them.”

Zayne, who seems to have returned to his usual stoicism, frowns at that, mouth drawn taut as though he wanted to say something.

"And if we were to engage in sexual acts," He's so clinical, even as he says something that could send anyone else running. “Perhaps that is what you need to start writing again. It would make sense. To write a compelling,” he stumbles over the word, “erotica, you’d have to experience pleasure."

The gears in your mind turn, and slowly, it begins to make a twisted sort of sense. You'd have to feel it for yourself, to be able to describe the sensation, the passion, the tension with conviction. Perhaps it really would get you closer to finishing this damn book.

But then you remember who you're talking to. Doctor Zayne. Your coworker. Worse than that, your mentor and direct superior in your field, and someone you happen to admire very much. So then why would he…?

"What do you gain from this, Zayne?"

Zayne stiffens. “I’m a doctor, it’s my duty to help my patients.”

A sly smile cracks against your lips, and you prop your chin against your palm. “I didn’t realize I was your patient now, doctor?”

His eyes snap back to yours and he straightens, his demeanor slipping back to his typical formality. "You have a bright future in front of you. This is an investment in you, and I believe this will help us both. I will draw up a contract tomorrow for us to discuss, you can meet me in my office after your shift.”

“Rather formal,” you say, but Zayne doesn’t take the bait this time.

He simply takes another sip from his coffee, and you swear you catch him smiling behind the porcelain rim. “Then perhaps I could also get a signed copy of your next book?"

You scoff, waving him off as you slouch back in your chair. "Of course, I'll throw one in the mail the day it's out."

"It's a deal then.”

He’s about to push in his chair when you lunge from yours, grabbing his sleeve as his eyes widen slightly, looking down at where your hands meet. "Thank you,” a smile. ”Zayne."

His gaze softens and he smiles a bit, nodding. "Of course, doctor."

And with a wave, he's gone.

_______

You don’t know what you expected.

Zayne seemed like the type to take his girl out to dinner first, probably somewhere obscenely expensive. He’d show up with a single rose or another simple but romantic gift so seemingly contradictory to his outward appearance. Afterward, maybe he’d take her to a show or somewhere with fancy sweets, knowing his taste. Then, after all that, he’d invite her back to his apartment or allow her to whisk him away to her place.

You’d imagine it would go something like that. But then again, the terms of your relationship are quite different then the one he’d have with this imaginary woman. So when he texts you after your shift that Tuesday asking if you’re free tonight, you’re only moderately panicked.

To make matters worse, he’s at your house five minutes early.

Two knocks, and you scramble to open the door, Zayne nearly dwarfing the door frame as he lingers outside the hallway. His trenchcoat only adds to his natural tendency to command attention, and you feel more vulnerable than usual in your sleep clothes.

“Fancy seeing you here, stranger.”

Zayne adjusts his collar. “Do you mind if I come in?”

You tap your chin, pretending to mull it over in your mind, relishing in the slight nervousness your silence instills in Zayne. “It would be rather bothersome to fuck in the hallway, I suppose…”

Zayne shakes his head at the remark, but you can see amusement dancing in his eyes. With that, you step aside, and he ducks under the doorframe to slip inside. It’s as though something irreversible- something inevitable- shifts as you watch him cross the threshold, and it doesn't get better when you close the door and lock it behind him.

You'd say he makes himself at home, but his stance is still too stiff, too awkward, even as he’s hanging his coat and slipping out of his shoes. It almost feels domestic.

"Would you like something to drink?"

Zayne shakes his head, "Not this time."

He says it so casually, and yet the notion of a next time has you dizzy. Of course there’s a next time, you’ll need more than one night to get inspiration. It was only a natural assumption, you reason with yourself.

"You seem tense," he says, and then your back is against the wall.

Zayne leans down, hovering above you as his hand comes up to your waist. A tentative touch, and you give a small nod, feeling his arm relax, palm sliding further into the plush of your hips. He looks so good like this, in a work button-down with a thin sheen of sweat on his brow and his lips parted. Gods, and he’s not even trying- there’s genuine concern written in the way he scans your body with a deep crease between his brows. You hope he doesn’t notice how you squeeze your thighs tighter.

"It's the deadline, is all," you say, trying to brush off the question.

"Ah, of course. How inconsiderate of me. I’m supposed to be helping you and here I am making it worse.”

Zayne's voice is low and smooth. The cadence in his words, the slight drawl, is a sound that makes your heart skip a beat. It's a shame it's so easy to hide your arousal when you're this nervous.

“Well,” You smile, and his gaze flickers down to your mouth. “I suppose I can forgive you if you uphold your end of the deal.”

His stare is heavy, and it feels like the room is closing in. But you understand the man well enough to know that he wouldn’t dare move first, not until you asked for it, not when you have yet to set a precedent. So you loop your arms around his neck, forcing Zayne closer as his forearm slams against the wall to hold himself up against you.

You nip at the lobe of his ear, smiling to yourself as he shivers with each warm exhale. Zayne’s hand has yet to leave your side while he lets you grind against him, guiding your movements as you groan against his neck.

But Zayne feels you rush through the movements, a messy sort of impatience less from desire and more from routine. As though you wanted this done. As though you wanted him gone.

You feel a familiar flutter against your core as Zayne’s knee comes up against your core, but when you move to grind against his thigh, the hand at your waist stops you.

“I want to do this properly. You deserve—” he cuts himself off. Starts over. “Where would you like to do this?”

You’re about to tell him that right here is fine, not wanting Zayne to feel as though you needed any more special attention, when you realize just how serious he is. “Bedroom," you say.

Zayne hums, and the rumble reverberates throughout his chest. He offers a hand, and you take it.

And with that, you lead him to your room.

Somewhere between the span of your hallway and bed, Zayne seems to have decided how tonight will go. Despite your desperate touches, teasing up his body and luring him closer, Zayne slows his own pace, leaving burning trails traced with agonizing slowness over the curves of your body. Despite your fumbling to strip off your shirt, Zayne grabs your wrist, forcing it behind your back as his other hand teases the exposed skin of your ribs in a way that has you shivering. Despite your hushed complaints for him to just hurry up Zayne merely smiles in amusement, refusing to give you anything more as he scolds you with a click of his tongue.

Zayne refuses to rush this. He wants to savor every moment, to etch the sight of you into his mind and commit it to memory, to relive it in this life and the next.

He continues walking forward, each one forcing you to take a step back until your knees hit your bed, buckling as his form looms over you.

“The largest mistake in any relationship- sexual or not- is lack of communication.” He loosens his tie, “So if we are to do this, you have to talk to me. Tell me what you like, what you don’t.”

As he speaks, Zayne continues undressing, unbuttoning the top few buttons on his shirt before rolling up the cuffs so every glorious inch of his forearms is exposed. Your breath catches with each trailing vein, shadowed in the dim lighting up until they disappear under his sleeves.

Maybe you should write a Victorian-era piece next. Clearly, you had a thing for small swaths of exposed skin.

As if hearing your thoughts, Zayne undoes another button before his hands venture south. With a slow, deliberate motion, he unbuckles his expensive leather belt and allows it to slide through the loops of his pants. It drops to the floor, joining all the other articles of clothing as he takes a seat on the mattress, resting his hand on your bare thigh, inching closer and closer to where your sleep shorts have ridden up.

"Tell me what you like and don't like." Zayne repeats, eyes focused on yours, "And remember, you say no, and this stops."

Zayne moves painfully slow, his hands fluttering down your shoulders, breasts, hips, until he plants them behind you, caging you between his broad chest and the mattress. His hand slips under your shirt’s fabric once more, and you feel yourself tense.

You aren’t wearing anything fancy. After all, you were simply writing in bed, nearly falling off when you suddenly got Zayne’s text. Only a pair of shorts and a cami, but gods, when Zayne’s hands begin trailing up your stomach, dragging the thin fabric up with him, you really wished you put something sexier on.

He doesn't stop until his fingertips brush against the underwire of your bra, thick fingers slipping under the band as he practically tugs you toward him. "Can you take this off for me?"

"Don't know how to do it yourself?" You tease.

Before you even finish taunting him, Zayne's hand has already snuck around your back, undoing the clasp and forcing you onto your back. You can feel the heat radiating off of him.

"Now, now, we'll be here all night if we start fighting." He chastises you, tone far too smug. Zayne tugs the undone bra up, his fingers tracing the red marks it left against your skin. You tremble under his touch. "Didn't realize how sensitive you are."

His tone is even, but you can see the slight curl at the corner of his lips.

"Your hands are cold," you say, voice wavering as Zayne begins taking your shirt off as well. You try not to fidget, knowing that the way your arms are held up only emphasizes the size difference, Zayne being able to completely lift your chest against him as the other binds your wrists. You're not tiny. But next to him? It barely mattered.

"I apologize." But it feels half hearted at best, especially with the way he’s staring at your bare chest, not even bothering to take your shirt all the way off. It almost feels more embarrassing like this, cotton bunched against your collarbones under his palms.

“I’m going to touch you now, okay?”

The way he says it causes a rush of blood to your face. “I’m not some virgin that might break.” You grumble under your breath, but Zayne is as stupidly attentive as always and frowns.

“Do not mistake my care for pity.”

Something ugly aches in your chest when he looks at you like that.

Zayne’s hand comes up, large enough to encircle the entirety of your cheek as you’re enveloped in the chill of his touch. His body is nearly atop yours, each word breathed into your mouth. “Then, if you have no more snarky remarks, allow me to begin."

Zayne’s gaze drops to where he thumbs at your lips, leaning in as you watch his pupils dilate, flickering with something before he flinches away, kissing the corner of your mouth instead.

His other hand cups the curve of your breast, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You gasp, the sensation heightened by the feeling of his teeth against your collarbone, nipping marks into your skin.

It takes a moment for all his featherlight touches to register, your eyes fluttering closed as his thumb rubs your chin. You try to ignore the way he avoids your lips, refusing to get too close.

All for the better, you remind yourself.

He kisses lower, down between the valley between your breasts, hot breath the only warning you get before his tongue meets your nipple while his fingers deliver a sharp flick to the other. The contrast of the heat from his mouth to the cold of his fingertips sends you reeling as you muffle your cries into your palm.

Zayne doesn’t like that. He forces your hand from your mouth, biting your nipple as if in vengeance as you moan, the sound broken and desperate as you claw at his forearm.

Satisfied, his tongue smooths over the bright pink bite mark and swollen bud, the unpredictable pressure fogging up your every thought before he retreats with a wet pop.

Finally, Zayne moves to fully remove your shirt, but pauses when you flinch.

“Would it make you more comfortable if I undressed as well?” Zayne begins to take off his own shirt, but you lunge for him, stopping his hands as your voice escapes in a whoosh.

“No.”

His collared shirt was utterly ruined, unbuttoned just enough so you could see his flushed chest when he bent over. And now when he sat up straight the bottom rose up just a bit, exposing a stretch of his lean torso, a peak of his abs, and a dark happy trail that dipped into his tailored pants. Every once in a while, you could see his muscles flex and it sent a shameful throbbing down your core.

“You can keep it like that, it’s hot.”

Zayne doesn’t respond, but when he averts his eyes you swear you watch his lips curl into a smirk. It’s gone by the time he looks at you. Not that you have any time to dwell on it, not when Zayne closes the remaining space between you, guiding you against the pillows.

You try not to focus on how out of place he seems in your apartment, mere presence dwarfing everything else as he makes his way between you, forcing your knees apart.

Zayne leans back, his fingers trailing up your leg, edging up the fabric of your shorts up with his touch, but never daring to slip past the self-imposed barrier of the cotton. He coaxes your hips up, and you kick the shorts off in a clumsy movement, Zayne's eyes now focused between your thighs before you snap them shut as best you can around his waist.

“Let me see.”

You gape at him. “I– Doctor–”

“Relax. I can’t guide you if you don’t let me, now open.”

It’s not an order. Not quite. Zayne’s voice is effortlessly assertive, but it falls just short of being a command. You could call this off, he’s told you that much directly, and knowing Zayne if you did so everything would go right back to how it was before. A mentor and student. Coworkers. Strangers.

You force the tremors in your thighs to relax, knees dropping from Zayne’s hips to the sheets below as you move your left leg just enough to feel the inner band of your underwear stretch.

It’s a bearable amount of embarrassment and vulnerability, until you look up at Zayne again, and akin to a deer in headlights, you freeze. He watches with enough intensity for it to be clinical, a vicious sort of attentiveness that sees every twitch, every strain your body responds with, as if committing it all to memory. As if he were to devour you alive.

You think you’d let him.

Zayne reaches over, and his thick finger trails a line up your inner thigh, immediately followed by goosebumps, knuckles ghosting the inner seam of your panties.

Your body reacts before you do. Before you can even breathe, the air catches in your throat, and your legs squeeze together in a pathetic attempt to hide yourself.

Zayne pins them down immediately, gaze snapping up to you. You expect a reprimand. Maybe a warning or a punishment, and the anticipation makes your stomach twist.

Instead, his brows draw in, as if lost in thought. “You said you never came from touching yourself either?”

You can barely manage a nod.

“Hm. Then you weren’t doing it right.” He says, so bluntly that you can only blink at him. “Show me how you do it.”

Zayne sits back between your thighs, one hand still absent-mindedly caressing your knee, waiting expectantly.

And you feel the flush burn all the way up your ears and down your chest.

Oh, that was not what you expected him to say. You were prepared for him to touch you, or to guide you, but instead he asks for the complete opposite.

And, well, you could only ever try your best for him— ever the people pleaser.

It's humiliating how easily your fingers slip under the elastic band. Even more so when the pads of your fingers run down your folds, and you feel yourself clench at the mere contact, already slick and wanting. You move to tug your underwear off, but Zayne stops you, grabbing at your wrist.

"Wait," He's panting, eyes blown as he continues to stare at you, at the wet patch accumulating in the center of those damned panties. "Keep them on."

His tone is so serious a part of you wants to laugh. You're about to make a quip when he pulls your hand up, bringing your fingers to his lips and wrapping his tongue around them. The way he teases from the pad of your finger to your knuckle, sucking as he goes, has you lightheaded. Your hips stutter upwards, a pitiful sound escaping from your throat as you try to keep yourself together.

He doesn't stop. Not until your fingers are clean and your thighs have grown unbearably sticky, neglected and throbbing.

When he finally lets go, you're a gasping mess, and Zayne looks downright smug. "Now, you can continue."

The bastard.

You don't know how you manage to move, let alone bring your fingers to your entrance.

Pushing aside the cotton, your first touch is tentative, and you flush at how much easier it is with Zayne’s spit covering them. Your breath catches both from the initial stretch and the way Zayne leans in closer to see, even though the thin elastic prevents him from watching the way your cunt flutters around the new intrusion.

You shift, but your need has grown nearly uncomfortable, hips beginning to buck up as one finger quickly becomes too little, and you whine as you attempt to push in another, to push in a little deeper.

"Slower. You're going too fast."

You can't help the scowl, your tone sharper than intended. “How would you know?"

Zayne’s face is a cool mask, the corners of his lips twitching with amusement. "You did ask me for advice, did you not?" Then his voice takes on a sharper edge, demanding again. "Slow down, then you may continue."

As if you needed his permission to continue. But you do as he says, rocking your fingers in and out, pace painfully slow, mere friction sending jolts of heat throughout you.

Usually, this was the best part, the delicious and tortuous build-up that would ultimately lead to nothing. Not nearly long enough, your fingers hit just below your sweet spot, and you could feel tears of frustration prick against your eyes. Writhing, you tried to plunge further, choking out a moan again and again at the barest brushing against your sweet spot, mindlessly grinding your hips up to meet each cruel thrust of your fingers.

You cry when you finally hit that spot inside you, head falling against the pillows as you tense, about to move again when something stops your hand, ripping it away from your desperate chase.

“You–“ Zayne shakes his head, breath ragged as some combination of a frustrated exhale and moan rumbles through his chest, the sound going straight to your cunt. “You’re too impatient. Too rough.”

You try to swallow, try to hide how the sound of his moan and the rough cadence of his voice makes the muscles of your belly and thighs spasm, but Zayne doesn't miss a thing. He doesn't release your hand, not fully, but rather guides both of your digits to trace around your clit instead.

"Again," he says, “This time slower. How does it feel?”

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath as you feel his hand continue to guide yours, entire body jolting when he catches against the hood of your oversensitive clit, tapping as he lets you circle it on your own.

“Good. It feels really good.”

Zayne hums, but he already knows that. He feels it through the drenched bottoms of your panties, rubbing your poor swollen clit through them, watching as you gush again, the slick coating his palm and dripping down his wrist in sticky strands.

It takes everything within him not to withdraw his hand and lick it all. Or even better, take his mouth to you directly. Not yet. Not yet, he reminds himself. Next time.

You have to bite your lip as you feel Zayne’s hand take over your own, almost greedily pushing and pinching your clothed cunt, the fabric both a delicious friction and a damn barrier you wish was gone so you could finally feel his bare fingers on you, in you. It’s torture, every nerve on fire as Zayne continues to focus on your clit while your fingers return against your folds, teasing your entrance with a light touch before pressing in.

But it's still not enough. It's not what you need.

You look to Zayne for direction, but his expression is unreadable in the darkness. "Deeper. Keep going."

The angle isn't quite right, but you do as he says, trying and failing to muffle your sounds as you fuck yourself on your fingers, desperately chasing the feeling building up once more.

“Again. Deeper.”

It hurts. Your wrist is beginning to ache, and you’re really not sure how much longer you can keep going, crying out again when Zayne forces his hand flat against your clothed core, shoving your own fingers deeper and causing the wet fabric to rub deliciously against your clit.

You don't even have time to react before he's pulling away, his own hand rubbing the wetness on his fingers together as he watches the strands break and drip down his hand.

His tone is so nonchalant despite the way he keeps his gaze trained between your legs. As if the sight of you, flushed and gasping, with your cunt pathetically leaking and yet still demanding more, wasn't the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

“Ask,” Zayne demands, his voice deep enough that you swear you can feel it rumbling through your bones. “Ask for it.”

“Need your help, please, Zayne” you manage, voice airy and heart still racing from unintentionally edging yourself over and over again. “I want your fingers.”

It’s probably impossible to miss the way your eyes have been drawn to his hands all evening, big and corded with veins and muscle and scar tissue. Hands gentle enough to care for patients, steady enough to perform surgeries, cruel enough to tease you this mercilessly, and yet you can’t help but imagine what they’re going to feel like when he starts touching you properly.

You’ve probably thought about his hands more times than you’d like to admit.

At the hospital, at the cafe, at night in your apartment. Every inch of his body seems to haunt you like a forgotten memory your body had already grown addicted to.

The moan that rumbles out of Zayne’s chest is low and addicting. He sits back for only a moment before your hips are dragged down the bed, a yelp leaving your lips from the sheer force.

Zayne practically knocks your leg over his shoulder, and when you arch off balance, you press against something that has you inhaling sharply through your nose. Fuck, Zayne’s hard.

He shudders violently at the contact, falling onto his forearms as you roll against him once more, watching his face twist from the painful pleasure you know all too well. You feel his control slipping, both in the way his fingers tighten at your hips and the throbbing heat you feel twitch against your thigh.

And just realizing how much you’ve affected him is enough to send your eyes rolling back into your skull with a violent tremor.

You attempt to grind up against him again when Zayne roughly pins you back down. You writhe helplessly, hips pinned to the mattress as Zayne curses, adjusting himself in his slacks with a rough squeeze. “No.” A command to both himself and you, “You asked for my fingers, so that’s what you will get.”

You’re about to open your mouth to make another demand, but Zayne is one step ahead of you yet again. “That’s all you’re getting.” As if to quell your anger, he begins to thumb at your clit again, moving to take off your last remaining piece of clothing. “Next time.”

A promise he has every intention to keep.

Ironically, Zayne is handling you far more gently than you usually touch yourself, and you find yourself flexing your hips in an attempt to get him to touch you with more pressure. He ignores your endeavors, keeping his pace implacably steady and slow. But you’ve been worked up far too long, and as soon as Zayne begins fucking you with two of his much thicker fingers, you already feel the familiar tension building.

“Do you want to tell me what you’re feeling?”

“Not really,” you manage through clenched teeth.

You feel Zayne pull away and thrust your hips up into nothingness, only making yourself more sensitive when he roughly thumbs at your clit. He slams your hips back down, a cruel pinch to the oversensitive nub forcing you to arch into him as your jaw falls slack.

“That was not a question.” Zayne is still hovering above you, watching as his fingers slip against your cunt, slick with your arousal. “Use your words.”

His voice takes a dark edge every time he commands you now, and you bite your lip to not whimper at the tremor his voice sends down your skin. It’s not fair, the effect something so simple has on you. But while his demand is still ringing in your ears, Zayne curls his fingers further upwards, rubbing directly against that sweet spot inside you with frustrating ease, and you sob.

"Please,” you can’t even remember to beg. Zayne nearly abuses the spot, curling into it over and over again until you’re certain you’re drooling all over the silk of your pillow, writhing. "Please, I'm– I need more, and, ah—“

Zayne hums. "More? You're going to have to be more specific if you actually want to orgasm."

You whine, shaking your head as his eyes narrow. He’s only halfway through scolding you when his finger smacks against your clit, the sharp twinge of pain enough to make you cry. "Don't be a child. Words. Tell me what's giving you pleasure so I can help you."

"It's," a huff of air leaves you and you can barely manage to form a coherent sentence, your mind fogging over completely as Zayne continues to talk. "Hah, your voice helps.”

“My voice?”

Your eyes nearly roll back at the sound of Zayne’s chuckle. A deep, cruel thing that you now think may be all you need to come as your eyes screwed shut. “Well, if that’s the case, then I suppose I should just keep talking. Keep your eyes open.”

You obey, and Zayne simultaneously pulls your jaw towards him, forcing you face-to-face with him. “Look at me.”

You do. You do and really wish you hadn’t because the smug smile pulling at the corner of his lips and the freckles of light green you now see in his softened gray eyes might really be all you need to send yourself over the edge.

And, as if listening, Zayne forces his fingers deeper inside, the tips of his digits hitting the same spot that has your mind fogging over, vision blurring with a disorienting mix of hazy and dizzy. You can barely hold on, fingers twitching against the sheets as suddenly it becomes too much, your hands shooting up as you press desperately against Zayne’s chest.

“Wait–” You’re dizzy. The pressure is consuming you, and you’re losing control. “Please, Zayne.”

He stops immediately, pliant under your touch as he lets you push him away. Even so, his free hand comes up to meet yours, coaxing your fingers against his as he holds it up to his chest, letting you ground yourself with his heartbeat.

The rhythm is comforting.

Zayne isn’t speaking anymore, just looking, waiting for you to give him a sign. He doesn’t dare move, letting his fingers sit still, buried inside of you. You don't know if it's the dizziness lingering in your head or the fact that his fingers are insistently rubbing against a spot inside of you that sends sparks up your spine, but either way, you might be going insane.

“Keep your breathing steady, even when you’re close. Deep breaths.” In, out. In, out. Your chest rises as Zayne’s does, bare skin brushing his. “Good.”

Even as your vision clears, Zayne refuses to let go of your hand, this time pinning it beside your head as he begins to move his other hand too, thumb circling your clit as the others curl against your walls.

When you begin to shake again, his lips ghost by your neck, dangerously soft and hesitant as he kisses down from your jaw, following each whimper and moan you give to him with loyal intent, sucking gently at a spot near your jugular and collarbone.

"Ah, Zayne. I think–" your breathing hitches as Zayne presses another soft kiss against your skin.

"Are you okay?" The softness of his tone nearly breaks you, and you force yourself to ignore it. Focus on the sensations; focus on what you can use for the novel. Nothing more.

You nod.

"What else, darling? Are you close?"

Your breath hitches. The sudden pet name has you reeling, and you feel Zayne keep his steady rhythm, even through your trembling and whining, his thumb mercilessly circling against your clit in ways you swear never feel the same when you’ve done it.

"Call me that again," you cry, nearly begging.

"Come. Come for me, darling."

And you do.

Your vision blurs as you come around Zayne’s fingers, a silent scream catching in your throat. All you can manage is a broken moan as you arch into him, gripping his forearm and holding it in place. Your thighs quiver around his arm, and Zayne holds you still, coaxing you through it as wave after wave of pleasure wash over you.

The sensation is overwhelming. You're not even sure how long it lasts, the only thing grounding you is the weight of Zayne's hand laced against your own.

Slowly, he begins to withdraw his fingers, kissing your knuckles softly.

"How are you feeling?"

The room is quiet, and it feels like all the sound has been sucked out of it. Your head is fuzzy and your whole body is tingling, and all you can focus on is Zayne's soft breathing.

Good, you want to tell him. More than that, your body is still shaking from pleasure and desire, and you can’t stop looking at Zayne’s lips or remembering how hot and needy he felt grinding against your thigh. You can’t stop thinking about him, so instead you say, “Fine.”

Zayne stiffens. “Good.”

He sits up, still scanning your face for something as you watch the fabric of his shirt pull taut across his chest and stomach, and once again you are overwhelmed by the desire to run your hands down his body, to feel his skin against yours. To see more of him.

“I’m going to get you water and a towel.” He says, not moving just yet. “Do you need anything else?”

You shake your head no. Zayne nods, leaning in as his hand goes to your jaw before he pauses halfway and steps out of bed, making his way to your bathroom.

You don’t really remember how much of the night goes by after that, a blur of Zayne attentively guiding you through proper aftercare and you throwing in a few quips here and there at his ceaseless worrying. Before long, he’s saying farewell, and you’re back at your computer screen, empty doc staring right back at you.

But the words never form. Not when your head is still spinning, replaying everything that happened tonight in vivid flashbacks as an overwhelming rush of mortification and desire runs down your spine.

You can’t help but feel that perhaps you just made an irreversible mistake.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfiction #love and deepspace x reader #lnd zayne #lads zayne #zayne x you #zayne x reader #zayne love and deepspace #lnds smut #l&ds smut #love and deepspace smut #lads x reader #love and deepspace zayne #poisonwrites

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nadvs · 7 months

Text

cam girl (part ten)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Rafe is on your mind constantly. At this point, you’ve accepted it. There was something about the way he looked at you in his car last night. Possibly. Hopefully.

You stand in a quiet aisle, eyeing merchandise while you hold the charm on the necklace he gave you, the metal warm under your fingertips.

You’d never been in a sex shop before. The guys you hooked up with before Rafe were nowhere near as kinky as him and you bought all the stuff you needed to be a cam girl online.

But seeing all the possibilities makes your stomach twist with excitement. You want to try absolutely everything with Rafe.

You’ve been thinking about coming here throughout all your classes today with one thing in mind. Rafe loves to use toys on you, but you’ve never used anything on him.

With Rafe’s need for control, you assume he won’t be all that open to using a cock ring, but you want to do something special for him. Maybe you can introduce him to something for a change.

You find a vibrating ring that you know will fit him, then decide to send him a photo of the toys in the aisle behind you and text him: this is a great place to meet guys.

Before you’re even at the register, your phone buzzes.

Rafe: dont joke like that

Rafe: buying something for yourself princess?

He sends you $100.

You reply: something like that :)

You check out at the register and head home, already looking forward to tonight. Your phone buzzes again.

Rafe: when can i come over?

You smile at your phone.

You: what about our cam session?

You get a notification that he sent $1000. The alert makes you wonder if he thinks you’re just doing all this solely for the money and gifts.

You’d do it all for free.

Rafe: i won’t wait that long

Not just can’t. He won’t.

You reply: like 8ish?

Rafe: ok

It starts to rain close to 8 and when Rafe arrives at your place, his hair is wet and his face and jacket are peppered with raindrops.

“Is the valet not working today?” you joke, knowing full well he had to find street parking on your busy road.

He breathes a chuckle, stepping into your apartment with his usual ease. You’ve noticed that he walks into every room like he owns it.

Rafe shakes off his jacket and places it on the back of one of your kitchen table chairs while you grab a clean hand towel out of your hamper.

“Sorry this towel’s not a million thread count,” you tease, meeting him to dab the towel over his face.

His blue eyes search your face with a hint of something new. Confusion?

You realize you didn’t even think about it; you thoughtlessly started to dry him off. It was such a mechanical response. Your impulse is to take care of him, make him comfortable.

It’s official. This man is not just a fuck buddy to you anymore.

“What?” you ask, knowing you need to crack a joke to break the tension. “I’m just drying off my seat.”

“Oh, my God,” Rafe groans, trying to act annoyed, but you know he’s not. You laugh and lower the towel, squeezing the cotton in your hands.

“What’d you buy?” he asks, clearly eager.

“I’ll show you later. I wanna hear what you have planned,” you say. “You always have something planned.”

“You first,” he says.

“Rafe,” you whine, dropping the towel to rest your hands on his firm shoulders. “Can’t I surprise you for once? What do you want to do to me tonight?”

“I wanna see what you bought,” Rafe solidifies.

You suck your teeth in frustration, looking up at him with doe eyes.

“Please?” you breathe. “I’m always the one waiting. Why don’t you wait for once?”

Rafe’s jaw tightens and he shakes his head in disbelief like he can’t believe he’s giving in, but he gives in.

“You ever been tied up?” he finally asks, his voice so deep that it reverberates through you. The air is suddenly thick and any impression of humor that was floating between you has been dismissed by his words.

“Like… bondage?” you say in a short breath, mulling it over as blood rushes to your cheeks. “No. I haven’t.”

He closes the already minuscule distance between you, cradling your jaw in his cool hand.

“I want your hands tied up while I fuck you,” he says. Your mouth goes dry. Just when you think he can’t get any fucking hotter.

Rafe’s hand drops and you hear his belt unbuckling while his hot breath spreads across your cheek.

“Why the fuck are you still dressed?” he rasps. You’re reeling as you strip down to nothing but the necklace he gave you. You hear the clang of his belt buckle falling onto your kitchen table beside you.

Rafe’s hands drag over your hips, pinching down when he turns you to face the other way. He’s still in his boxers, his cock jabbing against your ass. His warm chest is pressed on your back, rising and falling.

“You’re always the one waiting?” he mutters. The belt buckle drags off the table top, and when you feel him roughly grab both your wrists and wrap the thick leather around them, the familiar need for him between your legs aches.

“You’re always waiting,” he repeats with a scoff. “I’m the one who’s always fucking waiting.”

You want to know what he means, but the belt is suddenly tight around your wrists, your chest jutting out. Rafe pushes you by the back of your neck so that your front is down on your table, your cheek flush against the hard plastic.

“Spread your legs,” he orders.

The muscles in your thighs are strained and your hips burn against the hard table from the way he has you bent over. He couldn’t even spare the few seconds to go to your bedroom.

You feel his tip press against you, making you wonder which hole he wants to fuck.

“Beg for it,” he orders. His fingers tighten around the back of your neck. Your arms are already burning from being bound like this.

“Please fuck me,” you moan, lips flanged from how hard your cheek is being pushed against the table.

“Say my fucking name,” he tells you.

“Please, Rafe,” you obey. He groans in response, hands settling on your hips.

He stretches your cunt out so fucking slowly that you want to scream. You push back against him, and you swear, he laughs at your desperation.

Rafe finally bottoms out in you, his hips against your ass. He puts his hand over your bound wrists, starting to drag out again.

“This pussy is fucking mine,” he says. As if you need the reminder. He owns you completely.

When he picks up the pace, driving into you, your breath hitches. With every thrust, your hips grind against the hard table, making you ache in pain.

“Ow,” you snip before you can stop yourself.

Rafe immediately pulls out of you, making you writhe in frustration.

“What hurts?”

“Nothing,” you lie, wanting him more than you want the pain to stop. “Keep going.”

“What hurts?” he repeats sternly.

“My hips,” you admit. “I’m fine, it’s just ‘cause of the table. Please just-”

“I’m not making you cry again,” he snaps. He cups a hand on your shoulder. “Go to your bed.”

“Rafe, it’s fine.” You feel oddly ashamed, like you’re not doing your job pleasing him how he wants you to.

“Go,” he mutters. His hand pulls you up and you have no choice but to let him push you into your bedroom.

Your wrists are still bound at your lower back when he bends you over your bed. You sink onto your stomach, feeling Rafe’s fingers spread you open before driving his cock into you again.

You squeeze your eyes shut as he relentlessly pounds in and out of you. Your arms strain against the constrictions of his belt, the sensations so fucking perfect.

“Shit, I’m…” he groans, and you know he’s close, so you try to tilt up your hips so he can get as deep as possible.

Rafe shakes through his orgasm and you think how you could never tire of this feeling, of being the one he finishes inside of and reaches this feeling with.

He’s panting when he pulls out of you. Your wrists burn against the belt as he loosens it. His hand smooths over your ass before he spanks you and collapses beside you.

“Show me what you bought,” he says. “It better make you cum.” You tilt your head to meet his gaze.

“Have an open mind, okay?”

“Damn, what the fuck is it?” Rafe asks with a curious laugh.

You’re sore as you get up on your knees and shift to grab the white ring you already took out of the packaging and placed in your nightstand.

When you settle back on the bed and hold it out in front of him, his brows furrow.

“Is that…?” He can’t finish the sentence, his tone apprehensive.

“It might feel really good,” you say with a small smile. “I got a vibrating one.”

Rafe sits up, glancing down at your purchase before looking up at you again.

“Come on,” you laugh. “You surprise me all the time. I can’t surprise you?”

He clears his throat.

“I don’t know,” he says simply, blinking fast. It sounds like a hard no.

“Oh,” you say. You’re shocked he’s not at least a little open to it, considering how kinky he is. “Okay. Sorry.”

You turn to put the toy away, but his next words stop you.

“Fuck,” he breathes out. “Fine.”

“Really?” you ask, meeting his eyes again.

“You just look so fucking sad,” he groans.

“You don’t have to do it.”

“Let’s just try it.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “After everything I do to you…” You smile in response.

Rafe sits up against the head of your bed frame and you straddle him, dipping your head to kiss him. It’s strange how with him, making out feels more intimate than sex does. As good as the sex is, nothing gets your heart fluttering quite like when his lips are on yours.

Your hands settle on his shoulders and you tug at the ends of hair as you kiss him passionately.

Rafe smiles under the kiss, your lips molding together, his tongue tumbling with yours. You feel him getting hard again.

You pull back to slide the ring down his cock and he sighs in a way that tells you he can’t believe he’s actually doing this before he takes you in to kiss you again.

Rafe’s hands roll over your ass, squeezing and kneading as you sit on his naked lap. This is the longest you’ve ever kissed. It feels crazy to realize that, considering everything you’ve done together.

“Shit,” he shifts beneath you. His cock is growing, the ring starting to squeeze around him.

“How’s it feel?” you ask.

“Good,” he breathes, eyes low. It makes your heart swell with pride. “Ride me.”

You sink down on him slowly, feeling the ring against you once you’re fully seated. You find the button at the top of it to turn on the vibration.

You both exhale in pleasure at the same time. He skims his hands up to your waist, looking at you while you grind on top of him.

In the dim light of your quiet bedroom, the toy buzzing against your clit, how deep he is inside you, the way his eyes are locked on yours… it’s all so perfect. Everything with him is so fucking perfect that it can’t be true.

The fact that you ended up here all because of a part-time cleaning job and a cam website feels insane.

Your palm is against his hot chest. He looks down at it and his dimples dip into his cheeks as he smiles smugly.

“Your hands are so fucking cute,” he teases. The non-sexual compliment sends you into a tizzy.

“Yours are huge,” you retort, trying to keep cool.

“What else is huge?” he asks.

“Your ego.”

“Fuck off,” he laughs.

“Okay,” you tease, starting to sit up so he’ll slip out of you. He roughly pulls you back down by your hips.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Rafe mutters. You laugh and start to fuck him faster, your hips rolling in circles.

“Fuck,” he groans, head tilting back. “I… Fuck, I need to get on top.”

You shift to let him settle over you, your head resting on your pillow. Rafe’s hand runs up the side of your bent leg and he grabs your calf to pull it towards him, silently inviting you to wrap your legs around him.

You hook your ankles together, your entire body hugging him.

You fuck for at least twenty straight minutes, both of you sweating and panting and shaking. You knew he’d last extra long with the cock ring tight around him, but this is unbelievable.

You cum twice underneath him in the span of the session, earning a string of “good girl”s from him. By your third orgasm, he starts to tremble, too.

When Rafe cums inside you, his name tumbles out in his groan. Not princess, not baby, not good girl, but your name, and it gives you a knotted feeling in your stomach that you haven’t had with him yet.

Maybe it’s because he’s elated over coming down from a new level. Or maybe it’s more.

He pulls out, still dripping.

“So… you like my present?” you ask when he falls in your bed next to you.

“Fuck,” Rafe groans. “That was…” He doesn’t seem to have the words, but neither do you. How do you even begin to describe something this unreal?

“I need water,” you say, unsure of how you’re going to even stand up. “Want some?”

He shakes his head in response.

You stand at your kitchen sink, leaning against the counter and swallowing down cold water. On your way back to the bedroom, you notice a lit up screen on your kitchen table.

Rafe must have left his phone here before you moved to the bed. Through pure instinct, you look at the screen. By the time you realize you’re accidentally snooping, it’s too late.

You don’t see the contact name in time, but you do see the message.

bro where are you? too many bitches here for just me lol

A chill rushes through your body. It must be one of his buddies waiting for him at a party.

Of course. It’s a Friday night and you’re pretty sure all the rich people on the island have to do is party.

You feel like an idiot. Expecting exclusivity from Rafe in the arrangement you’re in was ridiculous. Of course he’s fucking around on the side. Someone like him, with his sex drive, can’t be satisfied by one girl.

At this point, you just want him to leave, so you collect his clothes off the kitchen floor.

Thankfully, Rafe’s already sitting up in your bed when you reenter your bedroom. Surely eager to go.

“Here,” you say coldly, handing him his jeans and t-shirt. You don’t look at him when he takes his clothes from you. “Are you gonna head out?”

You realize when you ask the question, it’s like a secret test you’re putting him through. If he stays, he gives a shit about you. If he leaves, he doesn’t.

“Yeah, I should,” he says. He should. Yeah, he really should go look at and flirt with and fuck other girls.

“‘Kay.” You start to collect some clean clothes from your dresser, covering your body with them, feeling strangely insecure around him now.

“You pissed off or something?” he asks behind you as he gets dressed.

You clench your jaw. Honestly, you’re more hurt than anything. But are you even allowed to be? Just because he acts like your boyfriend sometimes doesn’t mean he is.

“No,” you reply. You swallow down the painful feelings and turn to look at him. “Just tired.” You think back to your texts yesterday about how often you’ve hooked up. “Lost count, right? I might need a break.”

You don’t mean it. At this point, you’re just defensive. Wanting to hurt him like he hurt you.

Rafe’s face flashes in displeasure.

“What - why? What the fuck happened in the last fucking minute?” he asks.

“I’m not allowed to be tired?” you respond.

He dips his head, nodding as he buttons his jeans. He seems silenced by his own anger. Your eyes sweep down his muscled body, wishing he’d just hug you and ask you what’s wrong one more time and reassure you that you’re more than just sex to him.

You can tell he’s pissed off and you know you’re not being fair, but you let him leave without any more words exchanged between you.

After a long shower, you lie in bed and wish Rafe didn’t leave his smell on your pillow. You browse your phone, trying to distract yourself.

You tell yourself you’ll go to sleep in five minutes over and over again. You’re working at the estate tomorrow. You need to get up early. But you know the moment you close your eyes, you’ll be trapped in your thoughts. You don’t want to think about him.

It’s nearing midnight when a text comes in.

Rafe: princessssssdsssss

You look at your screen in confusion. Is this a drunk text?

Rafe: ur mean

Rafe: but ypur pussy is sooo niiice lol

Yeah. He’s plastered.

Rafe: ans you have cutehands

Rafe: you akwyas smell good how the fuck is fhat possibke

You hate that your heart warms at the fact that he’s clearly fucked up but his instinct is to text you.

You reply: i think someone’s drunk…

Rafe: yes iam

Rafe: idk what i’m gona do with yiu loool

You: what do you want to do with me?

You get an alert that he sent you $69.

Rafe: that

Rafe: looool

Sex. Of course.

You: are you going to make me do every position?

Rafe: you’r efreaky as fuck. i know youd like it

You: true…

Rafe: lowkey ur all i think about

Goddamn it. Your heart is pounding at this point. You try to play it off.

You: oh only lowkey. cool

Rafe: don’t be maddd

You: i’m pissed

Rafe: we should fuck aboutt it :)

You know the answer to your next question, that he sees you as a booty call and that’s all, but you know the confirmation.

You: is that all you want to do rafe? fuck?

Rafe: YES

Rafe: what if i come over again tonigjt lol

You: i work tomorrow. i need to sleep

Rafe: you need this dick

You: omg

Rafe: do you likw this skng

Rafe: song

You: ??? what song

You can’t stifle your laugh at how shit-faced he is.

Rafe: irs good

Rafe: u should giveme a lap dance

You: you’re drunk as hell. i’ll see you tomorrow, ok? goodnight

You think back to the way he looked when you snapped at him earlier and decide to send one more message.

You: sorry i was mean

He doesn’t reply. Maybe it’s better that way.

Your body is heavy the next morning. You barely make it to the Camerons’ estate. You don’t see Rafe at all in the morning. You’re guessing he crashed at whoever’s party he went to.

You wonder how many bitches, as he and his friends say, he talked to last night.

When it’s time to turn over his bedsheets, you take a moment to take in the familiarity of his bedroom. When you pull over a new fitted sheet, you realize just how exhausted you are.

There’s no reason for another maid to come into this room. It’s on your list only. And Rafe is gone.

So, what’s the harm in lying down to rest, just for a little bit? You’ll do a better job when you’re not exhausted.

You won’t close your eyes.

You lie on his pillow. Okay, maybe you can close your eyes for a minute. You’ll count to sixty then stand back up.

The numbers quickly melt away and you slip into a slumber.

When you wake up, nuzzling your face into the pillow, Rafe is in bed with you, his back to you.

It takes a moment to remember where you are. You sit up and he notices the movement, turning to look at you over his shoulder.

{ read part eleven here }

author’s note: shoutout to my readers for being so creative. thank you to this anon and this anon and to another reader (you know who you are) for your contributions to this chapter! ILY!

#we are FINALLY getting rafe’s pov in the next part 🫡#also dont hate me for the cliffhanger pls #two more parts and the series will wrap up!!! hope you’ve liked it 🥰#im excited to give this fic its ending but honestly sad its almost over #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #obx smut #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic

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roosterforme · 4 months

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 10 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After just two days back home, Bradley takes you on a second date. He wants more, and you don't seem to mind when he can't keep his hands and lips to himself.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley being boyfriend material

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

"Shit."

It had been such a long time since Bradley wore anything other than a flight suit, a khaki uniform or gym clothes, he had no idea what he was supposed to wear to dinner tonight. You mentioned weeks ago you thought Italian food sounded nice for a second date, and he agreed wholeheartedly. He managed to snag a table for the two of you at Salvatore's, and he was absolutely prepared to drop over five hundred bucks, but his clothing was becoming a situation.

After spending the entire day with you yesterday, Saturday morning was a bit of a reality check. He was trying to work through three loads of laundry while he sorted through a box of mail. There was nothing sweet in there like the packages you and your class sent to him while he was deployed. It was mostly bills that had already been automatically paid online, mortgage statements, and junk. Then he started folding laundry, somehow expecting some articles of clothing that weren't threadbare tee shirts or tropical print button downs to jump out at him.

"Why don't you have normal clothing?" he asked himself as he picked up his phone now that it was late enough to text you. He wanted to make sure you were okay with grabbing a drink before the dinner reservation which wasn't until 7:45. But when he unlocked his phone, instead of zero new messages, he found a picture you sent seven minutes ago.

"Oh my god," he groaned softly, dropping onto his bed next to some unfolded laundry. You were in your own bed wearing his favorite sweatshirt and a bright smile.

Good morning, Handsome. Last night felt like a dream, but your sweatshirt is real, so it must have happened.

He scrambled to write back, clothing crisis forgotten. God, he wanted to be in that bed in the worst way. Things would definitely get out of hand pretty quickly, but he knew those first few kisses would be the sweetest things. After last night at the beach, waiting for a few more dates was going to be the challenge of his life, but he wanted you to know he was in this for the long haul. Especially after you mentioned that you thought he may have ghosted you.

Hey, Gorgeous. My sweatshirt looks way better on you than it ever did on me. Did you sleep in it?

He hit send and then wished he hadn't asked that question. He sounded like a horny twenty year old. It was bad enough that he had to practically beg you to go inside your apartment last night while you were kissing his neck, but he didn't want to embarrass himself.

Of course I did. It smells like you. The only thing better would be having you in my bed, too...

How the hell was he supposed to wait until this evening to see you? He tossed his phone aside. His blood felt like it was on fire, and he was sweating. Never before had he wanted to move this fast from a first date to making things official. But he knew you. He'd been working up to this point for months. And the Thai dinner with Prosecco on the beach wasn't really a first date. That felt closer to a reunion with a girlfriend than anything else. The only thing missing for that to have been true was a sleepover instead of him taking you home for the night.

He was too many steps ahead right now. You hadn't yet done the drive down to Coronado from Mira Mesa for yourself, but he already caught himself wondering if you'd consider moving in with him in the future. "You need to relax," he ground out through gritted teeth. "You'll scare her away." He cracked his neck and forced himself to fold a stack of underwear before picking up his phone to reply.

I don't want to rush things, but your bed does look very comfortable. I'm confident we could get cozy there... You're making me blush. I need to get this conversation back on track. Cocktails before dinner at Salvatore's? I'll pick you up at 5:30?

A few minutes later, you responded with a photo of you still all snuggled up in bed, smiling and giving him a thumbs up in his shirt.

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

"Just in case," you muttered, making sure your bedding was straightened and your room was tidy. You left Bradley's TOP GUN sweatshirt folded on your pillow, but you certainly wouldn't mind having the man himself in your bed tonight. Your fingers and toes tingled when you thought about it. You bit your lip and scooped up his shirt, inhaling his scent one more time before you realized he would be here any minute.

When he knocked on your door, you set it back on your pillow and glanced at yourself in the mirror as you bounced past it. Cocktails and dinner at Salvatore's would have been a major splurge for a night out for you, but Bradley selected the restaurant. All you did was mention Italian food, and he really ran with it. You'd have been happy with some pizza and breadsticks, simply excited he remembered you mentioned Italian food at all, but this called for your littlest black dress and your brightest red lipstick.

"I'm coming!" you called, going as fast as you could in your black heels, giggling at the double meaning. You had to compose yourself before you could open the door, and when you did, you were met with the actual man of your dreams.

"Hey, Gorgeous." Bradley's crooked little smile faltered a bit as his gaze slid down from your eyes to your lips, but he didn't stop there. He was shamelessly checking you out as a pretty shade of pink crept up into his cheeks, and you did a slow turn for him.

Your skin felt warm as you met his eyes after doing a full circle. His lips were parted as you whispered, "Hi," and reached for his hand. As soon as your skin met his, he pulled you closer to him. "Bradley." His lips were on yours as he backed you up into your apartment until you softly met the wall behind you. He was big and warm, and you were holding his left hand while his right one came up to your face.

He broke the kiss by tipping your chin up so you were looking at him. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he crooned softly. Your lipstick was smudged along his mouth, and his tongue darted out to taste it before he said, "I'm fucking crazy about you."

His rough thumb dragged along your bottom lip as you said, "And you've never even seen me dispose of a spider for you."

"Baby," he rasped. "I'd probably propose."

A shocked giggle escaped you, and his crooked grin was back as he kept you there against your wall with your door wide open. You reached up and ran your fingers along the collar of his oxford shirt before tugging on the fabric until his lips were on yours again. You let your head tip back against the wall as he devoured you, tasting your lips, tongue and teeth before his forehead came to rest gently on yours.

"You know," you gasped, trying to catch your breath, "I thought all your emails were sweet and romantic."

He chuckled as he pulled away from you. "I was hoping I was doing okay in person, too."

You shrugged playfully and tried to spin out of his grasp, but his hand was still wrapped up in yours. He followed you to your coffee table so you could grab your purse as you casually told him, "You're even better in person than I thought you'd be."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, pulling you close again. "You like my stupid looking clothes and how I can eat three meals for dinner?"

He was so endearing, you didn't know how to handle him. So you kissed him again and whispered, "I like all of it." You let your fingers trail along his shirt buttons as you said, "You look nice in this, but I can already tell you're more comfortable in your colorful Aloha shirts and jeans. And I love that you can eat three meals for dinner, because we ended up sharing everything last night."

"Let's go," he coaxed, leading you toward your door. "I'll let you pick whatever you want to try at Salvatore's. I don't usually like sharing my food, but there's just something about you, Gorgeous. You make me feel comfortable."

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

You tried to tell Bradley twice that he still had some of your lipstick smudged on his face, but he just shrugged and said, "Good," in response both times. If he didn't mind, then neither did you. It couldn't be any more obvious that he was with you when the exact color that was on your lips was also on his. You listened to him hum along to the retro oldies station as he merged onto the coastal highway while you took a minute to fix up your own smudged lipstick.

He grinned over at you as you put your makeup away and said, "Come on, Baby. If you didn't want it on my face, then you wouldn't be putting more on your lips."

Every time he made a bold statement like that, you wanted to cancel dinner altogether and take him to your bedroom. "I never said I didn't want it on your face. It looks good."

He reached out blindly for your hand, and you grabbed his immediately. "You did tell me you wanted me to kiss you as soon as I saw you."

"Yeah," you muttered. "Don't stop doing that." You knew things with him were going to get physical pretty quickly, but you'd never been quite this attracted to someone before. You drew little shapes on his palm as you asked, "How was your first night back in your own bed after so many months away?"

He groaned softly. "Epic. Fantastic. I don't fit very well in an extra long twin bed."

"No, I would imagine you don't," you said with a laugh as you watched him drive his Bronco in the evening sunlight.

He licked his lips and grinned as he said, "Would have been better if you were there though."

The eruption of butterflies in your belly left you biting your lip. You wanted to respond, but you needed to be able to make it through dinner before you were hanging off of him again like you were last night. That's when he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles, treating you to his mustache there. "Feel like getting a drink or two in the lounge first? Maybe a bottle of wine?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, ready to go anywhere he took you. As soon as he parked, he jogged around to help you down, letting you slide against his body with your hands on his shoulders. You wobbled a bit in your shoes, but he kept you steady.

"You good?" he asked as he leaned in, his lips brushing the side of your neck as his arm wrapped around your waist.

"So good," you promised. "Never better."

Bradley kept his hand right there on your hip as he led you along the sidewalk toward the restaurant. The lounge was packed; this was definitely a popular weekend date night locale. Couples filled the space with noisy conversation, but you could hear Bradley perfectly as his lips found your ear when he said, "There's an empty stool at the far end of the bar." He gave your hip a little squeeze as you headed for it, and he leaned on the bar next to you. "Why don't you pick out a bottle of wine or whatever you want? I'll go let the hostess know we'll be hanging out in the lounge."

When you agreed, he kissed your lips like the two of you had been at this for years, not just since yesterday. You weren't the only one who watched him walk away in his snug pants and Oxford shirt that somehow showed off his biceps. He was just that good looking. When you saw him without a shirt on, you'd probably faint and need him to revive you. When the bartender came over, you were chuckling to yourself at the idea of having sex with Bradley while he kept his shirt on to save you from that fate.

"Can I get you a drink?"

You looked at him in a daze, realizing you meant to choose a bottle of wine. You blurted out what kind you liked best, and with a nod and a smile, he turned to fill your request. And that's when you finally looked at the menu and realized the bottle was more than a hundred and fifty dollars.

"Oh shit." But it was too late. He had already opened it and was heading your way with it. You scrambled in your purse for your wallet, cringing at the idea of Bradley seeing the bill when you could have simply ordered a cocktail instead. Just as the bartender was pouring out a bit of the wine for you to try, you found your credit card successfully. And that was also when Bradley came back.

"They'll come get us when our table's ready," he said. "I told them it would be easy to find me since my date is the most beautiful woman in the restaurant." He watched the bartender pick up a second glass and said, "Oh perfect, you found some wine that you like."

You nodded and tried your best to pass your credit card across the bar undetected with your hand covering it. "I sure did."

Bradley's eyes followed your hand as he took a sip of the wine. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," you told him, picking up your own glass with your other hand. You tasted the wine and nodded at the bartender, and then he filled up both glasses while Bradley reached for your credit card.

"That's not necessary, Gorgeous. You can put that away."

You waited until the bartender walked off before you shook your head. "Let me pay for the wine. I was distracted and just picked a random bottle before I looked at the price, and then it was too late because he already had it opened. It's expensive."

Bradley looked completely unfazed as he eased your card from your hand and tucked it back into your wallet. "I don't care about that."

"I do," you said softly in your embarrassment. "I don't want you to think that's what I expected."

Bradley laughed in response. "First of all, I would never think that. And second, I was on that aircraft carrier for so long, and this wine tastes so good, and you look so pretty... I don't even want to tell you how much I'd be willing to pay for that bottle of wine and our dinner."

You simultaneously felt better and a little warm. "Okay, fine. But next time we go out for dinner, we're getting burgers from In-N-Out, and I'm paying."

His smile grew as you sipped your wine which really was quite good. "So that means you want to go out again?"

You rolled your eyes up at him where he stood, his hand brushing your knee where it was crossed over your other leg. "I'm about to make an In-N-Out reservation right now."

"Perfect," he replied. "Which night? I have to work late a few days next week to get caught up on everything I missed while I was away."

"You're ridiculous," you told him with a laugh. "How about Wednesday?"

His fingers toyed with the hem of your dress as he said, "Wednesday's good. You also need to let me know when I can visit your classroom again." His words were so sweet, and his gaze was sincere, but the feel of his fingertips inching along your skin above your knee was something else.

You set your glass down next to your purse and reached for his hand, letting his fingers slip underneath your dress as you met his brown eyes. When he teased your skin with his rough hands, you reached for his shirt, and Bradley came willingly. Salvatore's didn't provide the two of you with the same level of privacy as the beach last night had, but you didn't really care, and he didn't seem to either.

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

You had the softest skin. How was he supposed to keep his hands off you? And that red lipstick made your little pout when he teased you even more delectable than he could have imagined. And he'd been doing plenty of imagining for the last few months. He'd imagined you in a variety of scenarios with him, but so far being with you in person surpassed everything his vivid thoughts came up with.

When he mentioned visiting you at work, you treated him to the silky soft feel of your skin, and then you literally grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged until he was kissing you. Oh god, he was never going to recover from this. He had to wrap his hand around the middle of your thigh to keep himself from going any further as you moaned softly into his mouth. He was absolutely starving and a little dizzy from the wine, but he was thinking about skipping dinner in favor of the solitude of the Bronco right now.

"Mr. Bradshaw?"

Your tongue was slowly tasting his when you jerked away from him as the hostess strolled over. Embarrassed, you turned toward the bar as Bradley grunted in response at the young woman who told him the table was ready for the two of you. And maybe that wasn't a bad thing, because feeling you up in the middle of the crowded lounge wasn't something he'd feel good about later. At least not on the second date. He'd bring you back here in a few months and see if the two of you even made it to dinner.

With a smile, he reached for your free hand after you picked up your glass. You halfway hid your face against his bicep as the hostess picked up the bottle and led the way through the lounge and into the restaurant. Bradley kissed your forehead and murmured, "If I could keep my hands off of you, this wouldn't be a problem."

You peered up at him through your lashes. "Hanging out on your couch alone is sounding better and better."

"Fuck," he groaned softly as you released his hand and took a seat at the table set for two which was overlooking the bay. Bradley pushed your chair in, and his thumbs met your bare arms. He took a few deep breaths before taking the seat opposite yours and accepted one of the menus as he listened to the specials while he looked at your face. He muttered some sort of response, and then the two of you were alone.

You emptied the remainder of the wine between his glass and yours, and then Bradley watched you lick a little droplet from your thumb as you smiled at him. "So which three dinners are you planning on ordering tonight?"

It took him a second to realize that he was holding an open menu even though he hadn't looked at it once. He cleared his throat and said, "Definitely some homemade spaghetti and meatballs. The last time I ate spaghetti, it was overcooked and sad, and I had to go back to my bunk and think about you to make myself feel better." You covered your mouth with one hand while you laughed, and it was the most charming thing he'd ever seen. "I'm so serious, Gorgeous. I got a plate of soggy noodles, and literally the only thing that made it better was imagining you teaching your class about military grade jets and aviation."

Your pretty eyes were glittering as you told him, "I keep extending my lessons on the topic, and you are completely to blame for that. After the first time you responded to us, my students asked about you every single day. They are completely enamored with you."

"Yeah? Just them? Or you too?" He knew his words were reminiscent of the way you'd tried to blame it on your kids when you asked him to send you a picture so you could see what he looked like.

"Hmm." You pretended to peruse your menu. "I'm thinking about the ravioli. Or maybe the penne with vodka sauce." Your foot tapped his leg beneath the table, and he had to fight the urge to reach under and touch your skin again. You were teasing him in every way right now, and he was absolutely loving it. When the waiter dropped off glasses of water and some freshly baked bread, he asked if you wanted anything else to drink.

"You want another bottle of wine, Gorgeous?" Bradley asked, deciding to tease you right back.

"Absolutely not," you told him, looking at him like he had two heads before kindly telling the waiter, "No, thank you."

He was still laughing when he picked up a piece of bread. "So we'll get spaghetti, penne and ravioli?"

"You don't have to order what I want," you told him, your foot still running along his calf while your expression dripped with innocence.

"No. I want to though." It was kind of fun spoiling you with something as simple as dinner. Vanessa would have made a comment by now about how much she hated the slightly kitschy, over the top restaurant, even if the food was supposed to be immaculate. You didn't seem to mind one bit that he ordered three massive entrees and intended to finish whatever you didn't. Vanessa always got embarrassed, but all you said was that you were excited to try all three.

There was never a lull in conversation. You actually listened to Bradley when he was talking, and he could have listened to you all night.

"So you know how last night I mentioned... that I'd never really thought about dating someone in the military who deploys for work?"

"Yeah," Bradley rasped, not sure he loved where the conversation was heading.

You looked a little apprehensive as you said, "I was thinking about it more last night after you dropped me off."

"And?"

You kind of shrugged and said, "I think I'd actually be okay with it, as long as it's you. It almost feels like we got some big, scary thing out of the way already, you know? And I could always write to you, because I kind of loved doing that. And yes, Bradley, I am also completely enamored with you."

It was almost a shame that the food arrived then, because as you started to cut into an enormous ravioli, all he could think to say was, "I'm completely enamored with you, too."

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

You were so full from dinner, you didn't know how Bradley could walk. He ate at least two times what you did, and then he insisted on ordering a piece of cheesecake. When you caught sight of the bill, you tried not to gasp, because it was more than you spend on groceries for a whole month. But he handed over his credit card and signed his name without even breaking conversation with you. And now you were discreetly grabbing a handful of mints on your way out of the restaurant as he held your hand.

It was late, and you knew he was still tired. He mentioned briefly that he had a lot of chores to do this week amidst some late nights at work, but you didn't know how you'd be able to wait until Wednesday to see him again. When he started up the Bronco and headed in the direction of your apartment, your mind flooded with questions, but he asked you one first.

"I already have plans tomorrow, but I don't think I can wait until Wednesday to see you again. What time do you usually get to school?"

"7:20."

"Okay. And what kind of coffee do you like?"

You couldn't stop smiling as you told him what you usually ordered on the rare occasion you had time to stop at Starbucks. You kind of already felt like he was spoiling you.

"Have you memorized everything I've ever told you?"

"Yep," he replied, his handsome smile evident in the street lights. "And I've gotta say, you're one of a kind, Gorgeous."

You honestly didn't want the ride to end. The fact that there was no buffer of traffic to add to the twenty minute drive made you pout a little bit. Bradley's deep voice layered over the music playing on the radio while he held your hand was intoxicating, but you made a disappointed sound as he parked in front of your building.

When he released your hand to kill the engine in the near darkness, all you could see was his handsome profile. "You thought the drive would be too much for me," you whispered. "But when I'm in the car with you, I don't want it to end."

He cleared his throat and softly said, "Well, we don't have to get out quite yet if you don't want to."

Your pout turned into a grin as you unbuckled your seatbelt. "I can tell you still need to catch up on some sleep. I don't want to keep you out too late, Bradley."

He chuckled and undid his own seatbelt. "Why don't you come a little closer and say my name again."

As you eased yourself onto your hands and knees, you scooted across the seat and whispered, "Bradley," with a little laugh.

"Closer?" he asked, and you crawled over to him until you were able to kiss his cheek.

"Bradley."

He turned his head so his lips met yours, and he whispered, "Closer," against your mouth.

You were immediately in his lap, your hands resting on his chest as the steering wheel met your lower back. Your lips found his scarred cheek just like last night, and you kissed your way along his mustache and the side of his nose. You let your hands drift slowly down over his abs until they met the leather of his belt, and you whispered his name one more time.

His big hands closed around your wrists as he groaned, "You really love teasing me."

You nodded and said, "I really do," as he guided your hands up to his shoulders and around his neck.

"You're really good at it, Baby. All those pictures of you in your bed are enough to get a man through a deployment and then promptly kill him once he's on dry land if he can't touch you immediately."

He kissed the inside of your arm, and you scooted your body a little closer to his. "You can touch me." Your words elicited a deep groan as he slid his big hands along your bare arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He kissed your lips, swiping his tongue against yours as his fingers trailed down your sides. You almost cried out when his thumbs grazed the sides of your breasts before he gently squeezed your waist and your hips.

You could invite him to stay over. You didn't think he'd turn you down if you did. But all you could manage to say was, "Bradley," between kisses.

He tipped his head back against the headrest and whispered, "I love the way that sounds." His eyes were glittering in the darkness as he looked at your face and your body, and you remembered his text message from earlier.

I don't want to rush things

It was hard for you to remember that yesterday in your classroom was the first time you touched him. The first time you heard his voice in person. As much as you wanted to lean in close and ask him to stay, instead you kissed his ear and said, "You promised me movie night on your couch. When?"

"Friday?" he asked, kissing along your neck. "Let me end the week with my Gorgeous girl?"

"Yes."

You were afraid you were going to melt right out onto the pavement when he opened his door, but he helped you down and kept his arm wrapped around you. Bradley walked a half step behind you in the darkness all the way to your apartment. While there was no expectation that he was going to join you inside, you ended up pinned against your door, because it didn't seem like he was quite ready to leave yet either.

He was eager. You could feel it as his lips found your neck again. He smiled against you as he whispered your name in that deep raspy voice. "Since you don't like surprises, I'm telling you right now that you should expect to see me in the parking lot at your school on Monday morning. Sound okay?"

"Oh god, yes," you whined as he released you. There were so many things you wanted to tell him as he put a foot of space between your bodies, really giving you a chance to see his pink cheeks and the way he was breathing deeply. You blurted out, "I'm falling so hard for you."

His crooked little grin was back as he nodded at your door. "Lock it behind you. And when you get in bed, in my sweatshirt, send me another selfie."

"I will," you promised, and you did exactly what he said. A minute after you texted the photo, you got a message back from him.

I think I'm falling even harder.

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

I'm so obsessed with them. She was so concerned about that bottle of wine! And he really wasn't lol. Coffee and burgers and a couch date coming up. This story will be 18+ soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 11

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952 notes · View notes

biteyoubiteme · 2 months

Text

study break

fem!reader x han jisung

synopsis: you take a study break with your boyfriend

warnings: 🔞!! slightly innocent reader, some nipple play, fingering, oral (f!rec), prob forgot some sorry

wc: 2k

an: this was a request but my inbox ate it ;-; hope i got everything anon asked for :)) not proofread sorry :( feedback appreciated! [m.list]

You have been at your desk for over six hours studying for your next exam. Hand cramping from all the notes you were copying down from slides you missed a few weeks ago. Ones that you finally remembered you needed to go over. You had only stepped away for a shower a few minutes ago to try and calm your mind after nearly crying over a worksheet. Pacing back and forth before you caught sight of your shower caddy deciding that if the shower didn’t work as a refresher then you would just take whatever grade you got and would have to live with it.

It wasn’t until the knocking at your door that you realized how stressed you had been. The evening you had planned with your boyfriend was forgotten until you pulled open the door to see him standing in the hallway of your dorm.

“So you are alive,” Han smiles as soon as you open the door. His hair curled around his ears, dotted with droplets of rain.

“nooo I missed our date,” you softly whine leaning your head on the door. The past couple of times you've studied you turned on an app that locked your phone to help with distractions. Only now it was backfiring because Han had been trying to reach you to remind you of your night out. “I'm so sorry Han I swear I didn't do it on purpose I haven't even thought about anything else besides this exam,”

“it's okay i kinda figured so I picked up dinner,” he holds up the paper bag in his hand.

“I'm the worst,” and he only smiles shaking his head, “You perfect, I should have known that scheduling a date the night before an exam was not the best idea,”

you wave him into the small space, your books a mess on your desk, the bed rumpled and unmade. Your roommate's side is just as lived in even for her off staying at her boyfriends most of the time. You're sure this is the first time hans been in here besides you picking up something but he never made it past the doorway.

The two of you have only been seeing each other for little dates for a few weeks now. You shared a class together, working next to each other in silence for most of the semester before he asked for help on an assignment he didn't need help with at all. Confessing later that he only just got up the courage to speak and used the work as an excuse. You're closer to friends than you are really dating with how slow the two of you are moving. Neither of you moved past holding hands and one interrupted make out session. But you were new to everything and Jisung was patient.

Han kicked off his shoes, setting the food down at the edge of your desk. “Have you taken a break at all?”

“I mean I showered,” you shrug, your hair is still wet, droplets of water soaking your tank top. You didn't even notice how the fabric was wet enough to leave nothing to the imagination. The outline of your nipples draws hans eyes right to your chest.

“You are all wet,” he smiles, biting the tip of his tongue. You can feel your skin getting hot, trying to play off his stare by rolling your eyes.

“Usually what happens after a shower,” you collect a few of your books, closing and stacking them up to make room. Shuffling papers around and making sure to check you have everything turned in before the exam. You're leaning over your chair looking at the assignments calendar online when you see you forgot to submit last week's discussion post. Your light sigh is enough for Jisung to place his hand on your back leaning next to you to see what you are now focused on.

“It's already late, maybe you should save it for the morning,” he suggests, warming up your lower back as he rubs soft circles against your skin.

“it's only one question, it better to just get it over with so I'm not stressing more than I already am,” although it's the last thing you want to do, already you have given up after your long day. But you rolled your chair out sitting down to work out one more question. “you should just start eating so your food doesn't get cold,”

“no no I picked up sandwiches from the cafe by the library I can wait,” he stands behind you, hands on your shoulders, fingers flicking over the thin straps of your tank top.

You pull up the post not realizing the link attached was for a document you had to read consisting of six long sheets of tiny text. Your sigh is more of a groan this time, hans chuckle right at your ear as he looks over your shoulder. “I think that's the kind you need the magnifier tool for,”

“why the hell would anyone use text that small,” you can feel the weight of the day landing heavy right at your feet. Just when you hoped to be done, to only have to overview notes you hated this. Your teeth sink into your cheek trying to will yourself not to cry over something so stupid. You were so close to finishing not only the day but your class, one assignment wouldn't kill your grade but just knowing it was going undone would kill your pride. You let your head fall to your hands, the heels of your palms pressed to the sockets of your eyes like that would will your tears away.

“Hey,” Han whispers, pushing a few strands of hair behind your ear, “come on let's take a longer break than just a shower, we can worry about that later,” his hands slip over your arms, sliding up and down, chin on your shoulder, nose bumping your ear.

“Sorry, I've just been so overwhelmed with everything,” you say, rubbing at your eyes, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“That's okay, you just need to relax, lay back, and forget school for a second,” his breath is ghosting over your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. His hands go to your stomach, finger tracing the seam of your top. “you know I could help you with that,” his nose brushes down behind your ear and down your neck, lips leaving slight pecks on your skin.

“t-the assignment?” It's a stupid question but you're not past the brain fog, now worsened by Han giving you the softest kisses on your neck. Your head falling back, eyes closed as he fell into the feel of you.

“no,” he kisses at your jaw, “not the assignment,” one hand slipping up your stomach, knuckles brushing your nipple. “is this okay?”

“yes,” you nod, reaching up behind you to twist your fingers into his hair. Your back bowed as he cupped you over the thin material of your shirt, fingers rolling over your pebbled nipples, his lips sucking marks onto your skin.

His free hand starts to slip past the waistband of your shorts, your breath catching in your throat, “you don't have to do that,” he pulls his hand back to your stomach.

“Do you not want me to? We can slow down or stop, whatever you want,” now you're more than a little bit embarrassed.

“No it's not that I want you to stop, I just- I've never really had anyone do that before,” you confess, face hot enough to thank the fact your back is to han. It wasn't that you were against it, only that you spent most time inside studying instead of going out and meeting guys to hook up with. And from what friends have said some guys don't like going down on girls with their mouths or hands. “and I know some guys don't like it,”

“yeah the wrong guys,” he chuckles the rumble of his laugh right in your ear before he kisses over the mark he made on your neck, “I on the other hand have been thinking of devouring you the second you sat down next to me that first day in class wearing that little skirt,”

“Really?” his fingers tugging the waistband of your shorts before letting it snap back in place.

“uh huh, thinking about how good you would taste, how pretty you would look cumming on my tongue, how perfect you would sound,” your hips instinctively roll at the idea, Han's hand slipping back under your waistband. “Would you like that?”

“Yes,” the whisper is enough for Han to pull your chair out from under the desk, kneeling before you looking up like you set the best platter before him.

He kisses your knee hands sliding up the side of your thighs to tug down your shorts and panties. You should feel exposed or even a little bit shy but Han is licking his lips, eyes flickering between your glistening cunt and your face. “Even prettier than I imagined,” hooking his hands at the back of your knees he pulls you to the edge of the chair, slotting your legs over his shoulders as you lean back gripping the seat watching what he’ll do next.

“Are you just going to like...kiss it?”

“I plan on suffocating between your thighs so maybe a lot more than kissing,” he peppers kisses all along your thigh, your legs already trying to close at how each kiss sends a tingle straight to your clit.

When he finally leans down and his lips brush over your swollen nub you know you're done for. His light kiss was enough to send all thoughts and stress right out the window. And when he licks up your wetness from your entrance and swipes up to your clit latching on and sucking your head falls back and you let out a moan that doesn't sound like you. Jisungs hands move to hold your hips in place.

You swear you see stars as he sucks before he pulls away your whine making him chuckle, “Do you like it?”

Your hand moves to his hair wanting to tug him back down, “please don't stop now,”

“Look at you trying new things,” he gives light kisses to your folds, loving to watch your hips try to work on their own to get his mouth back on your clit. “already doing so good at being responsive to my touch,”

“Hannie please,” you beg and he doesn't hold back. He sucks your clit into his mouth, letting one hand free from holding you down to raise in front of you.

“suck my fingers and get them all wet and ready for me to get you to cum on them,” slipping them into your mouth you follow his orders letting them roll on your tongue before he pulls them back to rub on your pussy.

Your orgasm was building in the pit of your stomach, every flick of his tongue pushing you closer to the edge. Your legs jolt at the feel of his finger prodding your entrance, knees pulling in before he shakes his head, “Relax baby,” letting your other hip go he presses the pad of his thumb to your clit rubbing at a soft rhythm until your legs rest back on his shoulders. He's slow to slip his first finger in, dragging it out before adding the second. His smile is starstruck, feeling along your gummy walls like he found heaven, “look at that, you're doing so good for me,” the slow pumps of his fingers take up more of your mind until he leans back down to suck on your clit.

Thighs trembling your head rolls back, eyes shut trying to catch your breath before you're cumming, Han pressing his fingers into your g-spot like he's always known your body. Han is swallowing all your cum down like he can't get enough of it, burying his face in your pussy as you pulse around his fingers. Your hand on his hair starts to tug harder, your hips thrusting into his face, knees closing in around his ears. He is slow to pull away from you but knows he shouldn't overstimulate you the first time. “now if you ever need me to take your mind off of anything, you don't even have to ask I'll be right here on my knees ready for you,”

784 notes · View notes

vanteguccir · 7 months

Text

── ୨୧ !　𝗧𝗜𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗞 𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦 | 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝟮

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: 4 times that Y/N and Matt made a couple's trend on tiktok.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anons.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

It was the beginning of the pandemic, everyone was in lockdown, businesses were closed, and meetings in person were only held between people who were sure they weren't with the virus.

TikTok was the only distraction for the young ones as their schools were closed, and online classes were difficult to maintain their concentrations.

Y/N had created her account on the app a few months behind and spent hours watching the videos that her For You brought with Matt, her best friend and neighbor.

Since their houses were right next to each other and Mary Lou and Y/N's mother were keeping everything extremely clean and taking every precaution possible, Y/N spent almost all of her days with Matt, whether at his house or hers.

But what no one knew was that Y/N had a crush - huge one - on Matt, and who could judge her for that? Matt was affectionate, protective, and caring. His heart was huge, and his kindness was even greater. His different personality and unique characteristics embraced the girl's heart.

That's why, when she saw the trend of kissing your best friend to the sound of Electric Love, she decided to make her first move with him. What so bad could happen?

Matt and Y/N had been sitting on Matt's bed for a few hours now, talking and spending time together, when Y/N finally got up the courage.

She took advantage of the fact that Matt was texting Nate and reached over, grabbing her own phone that was on the bedside table. She unlocked it and opened TikTok, quickly turning down the volume so the boy couldn't hear the audio. She selected the sound for the video and opened the camera, clicking on the recording tab and setting it to start.

Her hands rested her cell against the lamp so that the front camera took her and Matt figures before adjusting herself on the mattress, turning her body slightly and facing the brunette.

Y/N took a deep breath, playing with her fingers as she tried to take the initiative. She closed her eyes momentarily before finally leaning over, catching Matt's attention with her movements, who lifted his blue eyes from Nate's chat and looked at the girl.

Her hands snaked up his arms until they reached his face, holding his jaw gently and lifting her own body slightly, moving closer to him. She brought her lips closer to Matt's, who was watching her movements with a confused - but hopeful - look.

Y/N stopped her face close to his, asking him with her gaze if she could move forward. Matt quickly understood, dropping his phone on the mattress and putting his hands on the girl's head, pulling her closer and pressing their lips together.

Y/N opened her eyes wide for a few seconds - not expecting that - before closing them and surrendering to the gesture, feeling like fireworks were going off around the two of them. Her heart was racing, and her cheeks felt hot. A happy sigh escaped her nose as her hands went up to Matt's soft hair, tugging lightly.

The image of Matt pulling her into his lap by her waist was the last thing captured on camera, before the TikTok ended.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line to stop her laughter from escaping as she rested her phone on the sink in her shared bathroom with Matt.

The TikTok screen was already open, ready to start recording. The girl took a deep breath before clicking the red button, moving away from the device.

"Baby!" She shouted, tilting her chin up so her voice echoed better, her eyes fixed on the door, waiting for Matt's response.

Low footsteps were heard from the bedroom, followed by the bathroom door opening a few inches, Matt's head appearing between the door and the frame.

"Hi baby. Do you need toilet paper?" He asked quickly, his eyes traveling around the bathroom, checking if everything was alright before looking at his girlfriend again. She had a false expression of desperation, which made him automatically raise his eyebrows in concern.

"No, it's an emergency, actually." Y/N spoke slowly, swallowing her laugh, playing with the hem of Matt's hoodie that covered her body, showing embarrassment.

The boy frowned, opening the door wider and entering the bathroom before closing it behind him.

"What happened, baby? Are you okay?" He asked in a low voice, approaching his girlfriend and hugging her, receiving a negative wave in response. "Is the toilet clogged?"

"Matt!" A surprised laugh escaped Y/N's lips as she rolled her eyes against his chest before taking a step away, bis hands still holding her waist slightly. "No, my tampon is stuck inside me. The string broke." She explained, her tongue escaping her lips, wetting them nervously.

The brunette's eyes widened, watching her for a few seconds as if he expected her to say it was just a prank - which it really was.

"Oh no. Does it hurt? Oh my God, what can I do?" Matt paused, seeming to think of a solution before exhaling. "Okay, pull down your pants and panties and sit on the bathtub edge with your legs open, baby. I know your pussy too well, I can find it quickly." He quickly instructed, leaning forward slightly and bringing his hands to the waistband of the sweatpants that hugged Y/N's waist, ready to pull them down.

"Baby!" The girl shouted, letting out a loud laugh. Matt stopped his movements, looking at her.

"What? I'll take it off for you."

"I love you, Matt." Y/N said, still laughing.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N placed her phone on the hood of Matt's car so that the front camera covered her entire body.

The screen showed the TikTok camera opened with the audio already selected. Y/N briefly glanced at her boyfriend, who was out of frame and observing her with a small smile before clicking the red button, starting the recording.

"You better lock your phone"

She took a few steps back, raising her arms so that they were straight horizontally, spinning her body slowly.

"And look at me when you're alone"

Matt's figure appeared on the right side of the camera. He ran towards Y/N, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her slightly off the ground, spinning her in the air.

The image of Y/N throwing her head back with her mouth open and her eyes closed, as loud laughter escaped her lips, was the last thing captured on camera.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N docked her phone in the phone holder attached to the dashboard of Matt's car, smiling nervously at the camera that was already recording her, before quickly straightening up in her seat when she heard the passenger door open.

The girl had taken Matt's car keys to go shopping at the mall, and as agreed with her boyfriend before, she was now waiting for him in front of their house so they could have lunch together.

Matt got into the passenger seat, mentally thanking Chris for sitting there the day before, so the seat was already in the right position for his body size.

He closed the door and turned to his girlfriend, smiling big while running his eyes over her face. He leaned slightly towards her and sealed their lips gently, his right hand caressing the covered skin of her thigh gently, exhaling her perfume.

"Hi baby, I missed you." He whispered against his girl's pink lips, smiling slightly when he heard her let out a shy laughter.

"I missed you too, my love." She responded in the same tone, sealing their lips one last time before pulling away.

"How was shopping? Did you buy everything you needed? That cropped you were dying to get?" The brunette asked interestedly, turning to the right side and pulling the seat belt, crossing it over his body and closing it.

"It was great! I bought everything I wanted and, you won't believe it, I stopped by the gas station to change the oil!" Y/N told it like it was something extraordinary, her tone loud and excited as she smiled big.

"Change the oil? But, baby, I changed it recently, it would only need to be changed again in a month now." Matt frowned, looking at her with a confused look.

"Oh, I thought we needed to change it. Can you believe they charged me $500? I thought about calling you right away, but I ended up accepting it so I could leave faster."

Matt turned around abruptly upon hearing the value his girlfriend said, widening his eyes comically as his mouth opened into a perfect O.

"$500 dollars? They charged you $500 dollars for oil?" The boy's voice was thin and broken, his heart skipping a beat.

"Yeah. The total was $1,000 because they offered me premium air, I thought it was interesting. Now our car is premium." The girl continued excitedly, making jazz hands to the car dashboard.

"$1,000 dollars? Premium air?" Matt asked aloud, bringing his right hand to his forehead as he took a deep breath, feeling suddenly dizzy. "Babe-"

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, stopping her laugh from escaping.

"What? I thought it was a little absurd when the guy told me, but it sounded amazing." She shrugged, watching him closely.

"Premium air... Can you hear yourself? Oh my God, I'm going to have a heart attack." Matt kept his right hand on his forehead, bringing his left to his chest, above his heart, feeling how fast it was.

A sound of laughter escaped Y/N's throat. She couldn't hold back any longer. Her mouth dropped open as she laughed loudly.

"You are crazy, I swear. Do you have a receipt?"

Y/N shook her head while still laughing, briefly pointing to the phone that was recording them. Matt threw his body against the seat, sighing deeply and closing his eyes. She still would kill him someday.

taglist:

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939 notes · View notes

karajaynetoday · 8 months

Text

and i'd give up forever to touch you, cause i know that you'd feel me somehow | jack hughes

Thank you for all the love on hey now, you're an all-star - i am honestly blown away by those notes!! here is a part two. let me know what you think, and what your predictions or desires are for a potential part three! xo

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: nothing major. uni stress again, jack being a bit of a dick. angst. all of the angst.

(This is a fem reader insert) read part one here read the part three here

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

Waking up was always slightly disorienting for you, and the next morning was no different.

Your dreams could be quite vivid, or you couldn’t remember them at all once you awoke; but the first thing you could sense on this particular morning was the strong scent of coffee wafting through the room. As your eyes adjusted to the morning light streaming in the windows, you became suddenly and painfully aware that you were alone on the couch. A blanket had been draped over you at some stage of your slumber, but Jack was nowhere to be seen.

You sat up slowly, rubbing your face, trying to ignore the anxiety that was building in your chest. You could hear a shower running, somewhere in the hotel suite, and hastily threw the blanket off your body as you scanned the room for your belongings.

Shoes. Where were your shoes? And phone? Keys? Did you bring a bag with you? What time was it? What time did your class start? Would you be able to get an Uber to Campus in time? Wait, was your class online or on campus this morning?

Your brain was churning out a thousand thoughts a minute, and your heart rate was starting to match it. You felt like a deer in headlights. Or a cat under a rocking chair. Or… just… lost. You were so lost.

Someone cleared their throat behind you and you jolted, whipping around to face Quinn, who was decked out in a brown leather jacket and grey pants, holding two steaming coffee mugs in his hands.

You must have looked distressed, because Quinn offered you a gentle smile and one of the mugs which you cautiously accepted.

“Thanks, Q. I really should get going soon, though. Get out of your hair before the big draft day circus arrives.” Your voice was still slightly groggy with sleep.

“Take as long as you need, sugarplum. Our call time isn’t for another two hours. Jack’s in the shower, and he’d hate it if you left without saying goodbye.” Quinn raised his eyebrows at you as you both took a sip of coffee.

“Watching Jack try and untangle himself from you on the couch did provide me with my morning entertainment though. Surprised he didn’t end up with another injury given how clumsy he usually is.” You felt your cheeks get warm at Quinn’s comment and the smirk on his face.

“He could’ve just woken me up…” You offered weakly, shrugging your shoulders in an attempt at nonchalance.

“No offence, but that was a risk that neither of us are willing to take. Not after last summer.” Quinn bit back a laugh as you narrowed your eyes at him.

Last summer at the lake house, you’d stayed up all night trying to finish the latest novel in your favourite fiction series. Jack had come into your room to wake you for the boat day you’d discussed the day before, but instead of a gentle approach to waking you up, he’d literally jumped onto your bed. Which caused you to sit bolt upright and “accidentally” punch him in the face. At least he thought the black eye made him look tough for a couple of weeks.

“Nice jacket, by the way.” You tried to change the subject.

Quinn stood up straight and puffed out his chest.

“You think so? Jack and I got to go down to Hermés and pick out our outfits yesterday. I felt suuuuper out of my league to be honest.”

Your eyes widened at the brand name Quinn just dropped, slightly choking on your coffee.

“Hermés? That’s proper designer, Q. Like, tens of thousands of dollars of jacket, right?”

Quinn didn’t answer you, but he didn’t have to. The look on his face told you that the jacket he was wearing was worth more than six months of your rent. Maybe more.

“Well, we have to do this red carpet thing, and I figured we should probably try a bit harder than team merch.” Quinn reached over and tugged playfully on the sleeve of your hoodie.

Well, Jack’s hoodie. That you happened to be wearing. Which was previously super comfortable, but now felt like your skin was on fire underneath it.

“What time is it, anyway?” There you go again, changing the subject.

“Like, 9.15?” Quinn offered, pulling his phone out of his pocket and showing you the time on his home screen.

9.15? Why was that important to you? What was at 9.15?

The test. In your economics class. Worth a decent chunk of your grade. It was at 9.30am. But was it online or on campus?

You downed the rest of your coffee in one gulp, ignoring how it burned your throat, and thrust your mug back at Quinn before tugging the hoodie over your head and throwing it on the floor. You turned around, searching wildly for your phone and spotting it on the couch where you’d been sleeping, not that long ago. You lunged for it, frantically unlocked and trying to find your university schedule in the calendar app.

“Oh thank god. It’s online. Holy fuck.” You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, trying to calm yourself down.

“Sugar? You okay?” Jack’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you looked up from your phone to see him standing in the doorway to his room.

Clad in black jeans, with a towel around his shoulders and his hair still damp from the shower. Shirtless. Of course he was shirtless. You squeezed your eyes shut out of instinct, and also to stop yourself from blatantly checking him out. When you opened them, Jack was striding towards you, his face etched in concern.

“What do you need?” Jack spoke quietly, but firmly, reaching out to rub your arms reassuringly. His touch sent a zap of electricity through you, which seemed to kick your brain back into gear.

“I need… Do you have a laptop I can borrow? I have an online test in 15 minutes that I forgot about, for a subject I’m almost failing, and if I miss the test then I don’t know that I’ll be able to recover my grade.” You half-whispered, almost wishing that Jack and Quinn couldn’t hear your confession out loud.

You were supposed to be the smart one. That’s what everyone said, when you were growing up. You were the brains, Jack was the beauty. You were the bookish one, he was the brutally athletic one. Talking about failing university out loud was suddenly terrifying, even though you’d known it was a possibility for a few weeks or more.

“Hey… hey.” Jack squeezed your arms, trying to centre you, and dropped his head down to your eye level. “It’s okay. I’ve got a laptop you can use, and you can stay here for as long as you need.”

All you could muster was a nod in response, and Jack leaned in to kiss your forehead before disappearing back into his room, presumably to find his laptop. You sat back down on the couch, suddenly unsure of what to do with yourself.

Quinn had briefly left to place your coffee mug in the kitchenette, but he was back and leaned over the back of the couch to squeeze your shoulder.

“You’ll smash it, kiddo. Make sure you ask Jack what his laptop password is though, I’d hate for you to get locked out during your test.” Quinn said quietly, before his phone rang and he stepped into his room to answer it.

“Here you go, sunshine. Fully charged, but the charger is in my room if you need it.” Jack was back in the living room, handing his laptop to you, already logged in and a web browser open for you.

You stood up from the couch and moved towards the dining table, setting the laptop down and pulling out a chair. It only took a minute to log into your university portal and navigate to the subject page you needed for the online test. You were about to click the start button, when Quinn’s comment flashed in your mind.

“Jack?” You squeaked, turning to face the couch where Jack had flopped down moments before. Still clad in black jeans, still fucking shirtless, absolutely ignorant of the effect he was having on your ability to breathe calming, mindlessly scrolling on his phone.

“What’s up?”

“What’s… what’s your password? In case I get locked out and you’re not here? Could you write it down for me please?” You reached for the hotel notepad and complimentary pen that was on the table you were sitting at, waving them in Jack’s direction.

Jack rolled his bottom lip under his teeth as he stood up and took the notepad from you and began scribbling on it.

“I have to go downstairs and meet Bratter for some team social media stuff, but I’ll see you later, okay? Text me when you finish your test.” You’d never seen Jack move so quickly as he handed the notepad back to you, retrieved a shirt and jacket from his bedroom and disappeared out the hotel room door, all within a minute or two.

You were confused, to say the least. You glanced down at the notepad Jack had thrust into your hands, and you could’ve sworn your heart stopped when you saw what he scrawled on it.

Password - SugarpluM2001Jh!

–

Quinn had headed out not long after Jack did, leaving you to complete your test in silence. Despite the disorienting start to your morning, and all of your revision notes being on your desk at home, you managed to scrape through with a 75% result which would supplement your final grade significantly.

The waves of relief washed over you, as you clicked out of web page you were on. You reached for your phone and typed a quick message to Jack as promised, and you were confused when the laptop chimed with a notification noise.

Oh. Oh. Jack’s laptop was linked to his phone, and his messages were suddenly popping up on the laptop screen in front of you.

You shouldn’t pry. You knew that. Your logical brain was telling you to close the laptop screen and get going. But your anxiety brain was telling you that you should take a peek. Just a little one.

Before your logical brain and anxiety brain could battle it out properly, the laptop notification chimed again, and a girl’s name that was not your own flashed up on the screen.

What happened last night? I thought you were coming to my room after your dinner?? Xx

You felt your jaw drop, as you started to realise what was happening in this conversation you shouldn’t have been privy to. You froze, as the little bubble popped up in the chat, showing you that Jack was typing a reply.

Sorry babe i got caught up with some boring family bullshit, you know how it is. Would’ve rather have been with you obvs but i just couldn’t get away. Then today is crazy with media stuff anyway. I’ll see u at the drew house event tonight though? Go back to yours after that? Xo

Sounds great. I’ll be wearing this for you, J. *image attached*

You slammed the laptop shut when the image loaded, showing someone wearing a red and black lingerie set.

You felt bad for snooping, but you felt worse knowing that Jack considered last night as “boring family bullshit”. Is that all it was? Were you stupid for thinking it was more? That it could ever be more between the two of you?

Or was that all you could ever hope to be? Like family. Forever intertwined, always floating in each other’s orbit, but never more than friends. Platonic soulmates at best, childhood acquaintances at worst.

You were spiralling, yet again, and your phone buzzing with a notification provided a brief reprieve. Until you saw that it was a text from Jack.

Well done on your test, champ!! Knew u could do it. See you at the draft tonight? There’s two passes in your email for you and your dad to come visit. Might even get to meet bublé, if that’s your vibe lmao

Suddenly, there was a bitter taste in your mouth. Why was he pretending like he wanted to spend time with you? When surely all he actually wanted to do was sneak off with the girl he was texting just moments ago?

You swiped into check your email app, and there were the passes as promised. You quickly scanned the email to see if they were assigned to any particular name, and all you could see was “guest of Jack Hughes” rather than you or your dad specifically. You quickly hit the “forward” button, and sent them on to your dad and your cousin Tom, who had met Jack and Quinn a handful of times over the years, and was a massive hockey fan like your dad. You knew Tom would love to go, and your dad would be happy enough to have Tom join him.

You sent through a quick message to Tom saying you weren’t feeling well and that he’d be doing you a favour by taking your pass, to which he immediately replied with lots of exclamation points and thanks.

Next, you typed a message back to Jack.

Thanks again for the laptop and for the passes. Something’s come up so i can’t come but dad will be there with tom, hope that is ok? Didn’t want the passes to go to waste. Good luck for the draft, don’t let quinn bully you too much lol

You were hoping that Jack wouldn’t question you, or pick up on the shift in tone. Well, maybe you wanted him to sense the tone a little bit. Jack’s typing bubble popped up in the text conversation, then disappeared, then popped up again, then suddenly your phone was vibrating with a call and Jack’s name was flashing across the top of your screen. Your fingers hovered over the answer/decline buttons, before you abandoned both and dropped your phone back onto the table, letting the call go to voicemail.

You stood up from the table and began to gather your belongings. The bitter taste was still in your mouth, but otherwise you felt nothing. Just numb. You barely realised what you were doing when your body moved towards the hotel suite door, into the elevator, through the lobby and out onto the street. You waited a few minutes for your Uber, before slipping away through the streets of downtown, and as far away from Jack as you felt you needed to be.

By the time you got home, Jack had called you twice, and sent you about ten text messages of various question marks and confusion, and a fair amount of concern. You plugged your phone into the charger on your bedside table before heading into your bathroom for a much-needed shower.

Your shower felt like it took about 3 hours, when in reality it was probably more like 20 minutes at most. You washed your hair, and spent some time sitting down on the shower floor staring into space, pondering the events of the last 24 hours. When you finally emerged, putting on your favourite sweatpants and an old Canucks hoodie you found on your bedroom floor, you realise your phone was flashing with more notifications.

You settled down in bed before picking up your phone and scrolling through the home screen. Jack had resorted to sending you photos of sad baby pandas to elicit a response, your dad had texted you to say thank you for the passes and to feel better soon, but it was a message from Quinn that caught your eye.

Q: What did he do? He’s freaking out. Are you okay? I can beat him up if you want me to. Or give him a hug. Just let me know which is more appropriate based on whatever the fuck he did

You hesitated, contemplating whether to tell Quinn the truth or not. But then you remembered that Quinn had literally known you since you were four. He could tell if you were lying in a heartbeat, even over text message.

You: Maybe just remind Jack that his text messages pop up on his laptop. See if that helps him to figure it out lmao sorry to miss tonight quinny, hope you draft all the canucks you want xo

Q: He now looks like he’s going to throw up?? Still unsure if hugging or punching is required tbh

New message - Jack Hughes -

You sighed and rolled your eyes, before clicking on Jack’s message notification.

I am an idiot. I’m so sorry, sugar. I swear i am.

Sorry for categorising me as “boring family bullshit” or sorry that you got caught trying to get your dick wet? Or sorry for pretending to be my friend when you apparently just tolerate me to be polite?

We have press for two more hours then i can call you. You’re my best friend, sugar. I love you.

You felt tears start to prick in your eyes as you read Jack’s message. Sure, he loved you. But not in the same way that you loved him. And right now, you felt like that would never change.

You clicked out of your message thread with Jack without replying, and opened up your conversation with Quinn instead.

I’ll come to the all-star game on saturday, but nothing else, if that’s okay with you? I just need some space for a bit, sorry x

Whatever you need, kiddo. I’ll give the game passes to your dad tonight. I still don’t know what jack did, but i think not seeing you will be punishment enough for whatever it was??

You didn’t reply to Quinn’s message. You didn’t reply to any more calls or messages for the next day or so, switching between trying to catch up on study and catching up on some Netflix episodes. You were typing notes on your laptop on Saturday morning, when a New Jersey Devils Twitter alert popped up on the screen and caught your attention.

#NEWS: Jack went home to Jersey last night after participating in Thursday’s draft and Friday’s media hits. He was extremely honoured to be a part of All-Star Weekend, especially sharing it with his brother. He’s really close to returning and wanted to get back so he could continue to focus on the rest of the Devils season.

The bitter taste you thought you’d gotten rid of suddenly returned with a vengeance.

Jack went home to Jersey last night. You had no idea when you’d see him again. And to be completely honest, you weren’t even sure that you wanted to. Your laptop dinged again, this time with an email notification. You were confused to say the least when the new email appeared to be from an airline, with a voucher attached.

Your phone buzzed with a new text message.

I couldn’t stand being there knowing you’re mad at me, but i also don’t want to force you to talk to me when you’re not ready to talk yet either. Use the voucher to come to jersey whenever you want. I’m sorry.

You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, torn between accepting Jack’s offer and wanting to be stubborn and not let go of being mad at him just yet. You hated what Jack had done, but you also hated yourself for cutting short your time with him that was already in short supply as it was.

I’ll let you know. Might be a flight to Jersey, might be a flight to Michigan. We’ll see. Good luck getting back out there!

You knew the Michigan comment was a cheap shot, but Jack had hurt you, so you wanted to be childish and hurt him back. The idea of not seeing him for almost four months until the summer break, where you’d all gather at the Hughes lake house as you did every year, made you feel slightly ill.

Whatever you want, sugar. Mac n cheese in michigan on me. Love you.

The mac and cheese comment made you smile, and the love you comment made you want to cry.

Love you too, J. Maybe too much. I don’t know. I need time. x

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #my writing #nhl imagine #jack hughes fanfiction

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nicarnelian · 3 months

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furever with kaji!

₊˚⊹ featuring: kaji ren x gn! reader

₊˚⊹ summary: when you bring a cat to kaji’s apartment and ask his help in making a decent home for the feline, every request must come with an equivalent reward. for kaji, he thinks kisses are sufficient compensations to your requisition.

₊˚⊹ word count: 1.5k

₊˚⊹ warnings: tooth-rotting cringe fluff, grammar errors!

₊˚⊹ author’s note: binged frieren yesterday, and himmel and frieren occupied my mind, lived on it, rent free 24/7 for the past days! i’m also rewatching 86, bc shinlena are my ogs! anw, enjoy this kaji fic w cats bc i love cats (this is a shameless self-insert fic, if i think abt it) ;)))

kaji ren finds cats tolerable. well, actually, he considers them insignificant to his daily life, so he does not particularly hate them. the only moments where he would come into interaction with those little felines are when the townspeople would either ask him a favor, such as by catching them or feeding them, or when those cats would rub themselves on his feet and legs.

he doesn’t find them annoying though; he actually consider cats something that helps him calm down, shifting his attention to the little furry animals begging for rubs and pats, rather than the rowdy environment that encircled him. but, there were also times when the cats bite him out of affection, and kaji, knowing the person that he is, screams at the animal. afterwards, kaji would flinch as he watches the cat run away from him, feeling guilty as he looks down at the small strands of fur left on his pants.

after a couple of cat interactions, it would take probably another month or two when he would interact or touch a cat properly. all of these cat memories of kaji were brought up by the current situation between the two of you.

the second you knock on his apartment’s wood door, kaji unlocks it, knowing that you would be visiting him. he missed you, even though you do see each other after classes and during weekends. kaji has gotten clingy with you — the type of clingy that continues to seek the presence of the other, the type that opt to hear your voice rather than casual texts on the flat surface of his phone. but now, he kinda regrets opening the door for you. his gaze travels all around your figure, until it stops at a pint-sized, black and white animal that you hug near your chest.

he looks directly at your eyes, “why the hell is that in your arms?”

the both of you stand motionless, as no one dared to break eye contact. you wear a dumb smile on your lips as you giggle at your boyfriend’s statement. you lightly pet the small animal that leans into your touch. “it’s a kitten!”

“i know it’s a damned cat, but why the hell are you here, bringing a kitten in my apartment?!” kaji could not control the volume of his voice properly, causing him to step back as he realizes what he had done to you. you see the guilt in his eyes spreading, as if afraid of the possibility that he might have hurt you from his words. you quickly give a light smile to reassure him, letting him know it’s alright and he didn’t hurt you in any way with his words.

“well, i didn’t know where to bring it! the landlady at my place doesn’t like pets, so here i am!” you continue giving him that beaming grin of yours. kaji finds you insufferable — the way these walls he had built since he was a child quickly dwindle into nothingness when you forced yourself into his life, with that stupid, witless, yet stunningly delicate smile.

kaji notices how your face contorts to ever single emotion possible — from how your eyebrows furrow in seriousness to annoyance whenever you do your assignments , and how they quickly crumple to relief whenever he says the simplest of motivational quotes that he most probably looked up online since he was new to interacting like this.

in months of dating you, he wanted to know everything about you albeit being impossible — but, he was the type to make any possibility a reality. months into your relationship, he has put into immense effort into knowing you, and you reciprocated such actions from your boyfriend. and, it’s safe to say that both of you are still staying strong after almost a year of being with him.

you welcome yourself into his room, which kaji did not mind since he will always think that whatever that is his is also yours. you settle the cat on his chair, much to his dismay though. “hey! it’ll leave random fur!”

you pout at him, “i just need a box and some discarded fabric to make him a home for the meantime. you have some?” kaji knows how much you love cats, which is why he completely abides by your requests. but, of course, every request comes with a equal reward.

“i have some boxes and i plan to throw away some of my clothes…” he mumbles. you extend your hands at him, like a child asking for candy. kaji smirks.

he walks towards your direction, closing the distance as he draws his face near yours. you flinch at his actions due to how sudden and unpredictable kaji has become. you place your hands on his chest involuntarily, as your eyes lock on his pair of gray eyes as well. “w-what is it…?”

kaji doesn’t crack a smile, but instead, pouts. his index finger points towards the skin of his right cheek. you watch him tilt his head, as if showing the skin to you, and the words he uttered were something you had not even expect to hear in a thousand years. “k-kiss.”

you blink at him, as you could see the tips of his ears reddening from what he asked. he just asked… for a kiss? kaji ren? the boy who had always told you that you were insufferable was asking for a kiss?

“w-what?”

kaji’s face fumes into a shade of red, “n-nothing! never mind what i said, c’mere! as f-far as i remember, some of the b-boxes were underneath my bed! i’ll search for—“ kaji blabbers and stammers all over his words. am i going crazy? he, himself, could not believe he had just asked that from you.

kaji gasps when you clasp his entire face with your hands and peck the location of his cheeks that he was pointing earlier. he grabs your wrists as you continue littering his face with soft kisses. kaji feels like his world is spinning, his mind cloudy, his heart thumping so fast and his face burning red already.

you give him a final peck on his lips and smirk, “awww… are you perhaps kiss-deprived, ren? but don’t worry, i’ll kiss you anytime you want!” you beam at him, after seeing his flushed face. kaji doesn’t respond, which makes you somewhat worried.

“ren?”

his eyes stare at his room’s wooden floor, shoulders moving up and down. his bangs cover his eyes, leading you to simply call out his name multiple times until he slowly brings his gaze upwards to yours. you nervously chuckle at him, trying to break the silence between you both as he bores his eyes into you. “ren…?” you smile cautiously.

“you’re insufferable.” and, he closes the distance between your faces, kissing you harshly. it’s certainly not comparable to this kisses you’ve given him earlier, soft and teasing — his kiss is hungry, as if he’s deprived of water and your mouth is the sole salvation. it’s filthy and rough, but you fondle his lips with equal greediness.

you place your hands on both of his shoulders, balancing yourself at the height of the moment between you and kaji. you feel his tongue grazing your lips. he wraps his arms around your waist, one hand casually roaming your body until his fingers tangle with your hair and push you closer to him. it feels like forever — kissing him in a room that just encapsulates who he is: his scent, his mark, his hands that hold you tightly but not too tight, his eyes that only look at you. the entirety of kaji ren being yours and you being his feels like forever to you.

“meow!”

the both of you stop, heads snapping at the cat already purring at your entangled limbs. it’s almost involuntary how both you and kaji stare at each other and laugh as you wrap your arms around his neck. you feel his forehead press against yours as he whispers, “‘m sorry.”

“for what?” you lean your forehead against his. “nothing, just felt like it. since, you know, accidentally raised my voice on you earlier.” kaji smiles as his head finally drops to the intersection of your neck and shoulders, planting soft kisses on the bare skin.

you ruffle his head, “‘s fine. i know you didn’t mean it.” he hums in response to you.

“but for now, you have to help me make this cat’s home! i’ve given you lotsa kisses earlier, so i expect more help from you!” you poke his cheek, trying to force him to look at you. you wriggle away from his embrace, and kaji finally whispers in response to your statement.

“‘m willing to do anything for your kisses. i’m glad to do more even.” kaji smirks at you, causing you to smack his shoulder and ultimately breaking the hug. you’re glad that he’s finally trying to open up more, to talk more. you watch as he kneel towards the cat and let the cat sniff his fingers — a small introduction between kaji and the cat.

you want to savor the moment, and sure you do, because being with kaji ren feels like forever.

#wind breaker #wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker x reader #kaji ren #ren kaji #ren kaji x you #ren kaji x reader #kaji ren x reader #kaji x reader #windbreaker #windbreaker x reader

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luminalunii97 · 1 year

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saying F U to the regime again and again: a quick update on women vs IR regime

Famous Iranian actresses have been appearing in public without a mandatory hijab. This has been happening since the beginning of the protests. Last month, Kiumars Pourahmad, a well known Iranian screenwriter and director, committed suicide. He had a history of criticizing the regime's political decisions. At his funeral, some of the famous actresses attended without mandatory hijab.

You can see Fateme Motamedarya, Katayoun Riyahi, and Golab Adineh in these pictures from the funeral. Ms. Riyahi was one of the first celebrities who took her hijab off at the start of the Jina (Mahsa) Amini protest and for that she's been the target of IRGC harassment and has been to court.

Last week, in the ceremony of screening of the final episode of Lion's Skin (a persian crime show), actress Pantea Bahram participated without hijab. The manager of Tehran’s Lotus Cinema, where the ceremony was held, was fired for letting her attend without hijab.

Other than prosecution, the regime has blocked these celebrities' bank accounts. Basij and IRGC members have also attacked and harassed these women online and in real life.

Students on university campuses take off their hijabs. There's an installed version of morality police in universities that monitor students' styles. Female students must wear "appropriate" hijab and male students must wear "manly" clothes (one of my guy friends once was asked to go back home and change his shoes because they were red casual loafers. Apparently that's gay!). When you enroll in Iranian universities, the first thing you do is to go to the security office and sign an agreement that says you promise to follow the Islamic dress code. There are posters all over the campus that says things like "hijab is security" "respect the islamic hijab" and "not wearing appropriate hijab (tight short clothes, too much hair, makeup, etc) would result in legal action". So not wearing hijab on campus, where a lot of security cameras are installed and it's easy to identify you, is a big deal.

The regime's response to students taking off their hijabs is sending threatening messages to students' phones and increasing the security people. At the entrance of Universities, these security forces check people's clothes and if it's not proper they won't let you in. Some of the students wear the hijab at the entrance and take it off after they're in. They have warned our professors to not let non hijabi students sit in classes too.

One of my favorite trends in Iran now is when guys wear our hijab. These pictures are from universities. Guys wearing hijab make the security mad. This is a great act of solidarity with women against the obligatory hijab.

Some men have been doing either this or wearing shorts in public. The former is to ridicule the obligatory dress code and the latter is because wearing shorts in public is forbidden for guys too.

And women not wearing hijab in general. Though hijab is not our only issue, we want a whole new political system, one that is not theocratic or terroristic, hijab is something the regime won't back down from because it's one of their strongest oppressing tools. If they let us win the fight against obligatory hijab, I quote from a regime head, "people keep demanding more changes"!

So to put people against people to enforce the hijab law again, the regime has closed down many businesses (hotels, cafes, malls, bookstores, etc) for welcoming non hijabi female costumers. They have also warned taxi and bus drivers to not let non hijabi women in their vehicles.

Although not everyone is disobeying the hijab law (some believe in hijab, some don't want to pay the price), the number of women who take the risk and don't wear hijab in Tehran and many other cities is high enough that you feel encouraged to keep doing it.

#iran #iran protests #iran revolution #mahsa amini #jina amini #jin jiyan azadi #women life freedom #politics #human rights #feminism #middle east #women revolution #obligatory hijab #university student #civil disobedience

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01zfan · 8 months

Text

not mine | j. sc

taken!sungchan x fem. reader | 5.9k words

i hope you guys like this! this is definitely the most angsty thing i’ve ever written.

contains: infidelity, reader is sungchan’s girlfriend’s friend, sungchan is in a toxic relationship, both of them know it’s wrong, unprotected sex (DONT BE LIKE THEM)

you were a terrible friend.

sungchan was an even worse boyfriend.

it had started out as something so innocent. you had a class with sungchan, ironically it was intro to chemistry. he wasn’t someone you could picture yourself getting close with. it wasn’t necessarily that he was out of your league or that you were out of his, it was just that you seemed like you two had nothing in common. you secretly dreaded going to class after seeing the partner assignments posted on the online classroom. your teacher said that it was ”completely randomized”, but it seemed like the god’s had it out for you. you were going to class knowing you had to spend the next hour and a half talking to sungchan. you hoped that chemistry would fill up the awkward gaps in the conversation and that time would go by quickly. it seemed like sungchan thought the same thing, already having everything ready to start the assignment by the time you sat at the table. when you set down your stuff he looked up and smiled at you.

“you’re my partner for this project, right?” sungchan said.

you nodded your head while bringing out your own things. the awkward atmosphere was unavoidable after you had finished setting up your things. sungchan was looking at you over the screen of your computer and you cleared your throat.

“should we take the time to introduce ourselves properly?” sungchan asked.

it was a fair question to say the least. you had been in the same class all semester, but you never got the chance to actually talk one on one. the closest you got to an. interaction with sungchan was an awkward socratic seminar where you both just nodded along to good arguments that were made.

when you both introduced eachother you found out you actually had alot in common. you both had common interests and filled your time in between classes doing the same things. you still remember the shock on sungchan’s face when he found out you two shared a niche interest. you’re sure you looked the same way as he did, wide eyed with raised eyebrows. you two spent a majority of the class just talking, having to be put back on track by the teachers aide.

you and sungchan walked to the library after class to work on the project. you still look back on this moment with such regret. maybe if you had taken the initiative to go to a place more secretive your friend would’ve never met sungchan. you were in the middle of discussing possible research topics when your friend called your name. it was so loud even sungchan turned around. you saw her walking towards you, but her eyes were only on sungchan. even though he didn’t belong to you in any sense of the word, you still felt something akin to jealousy run through your body. the feeling was amplified when your friend introduced herself to sungchan without giving you a second glance.

“i’ve never seen you around before.” your friend said.

sungchan looked to you and you looked off into the distance. he adjusted the backpack on his shoulder and gave your friend a smile.

“it is a big campus after all.” sungchan said with a smile.

your friend laughed a little too hard, and you were a little disgusted to see how much sungchan ate it up.

before you could even get into the library your friend got sungchan’s number and had set up plans to hang out with him. jealousy flashed across your mind and you had to push it away. although you hated it more than anything, sungchan was not yours in any sense of the word. so you had no choice but to watch the scene unfold in front of you.

your friend only acknowledged you while she was leaving, saying she will see you later. she had a pep in her step as she looked at her phone, texting something. seconds later you could feel your phone buzz in your hand. the message was short and sweet, the seven letters fitting in the message preview.

he’s mine.

“your friend is nice.” sungchan said.

you look at the text notification on your phone and scoff before putting it back into your pocket.

“yup.” you say curtly.

after you and sungchan were done with the project, you barely saw him. you were able to hear about him all the time, courtesy of your friend. she tells you about all the problems they are already having so early in the relationship. she tells you sungchan doesn’t know how to listen, that he’s a flirt, and too nice to other girls. you stopped trying to offer advice on their fights when your friend blew up at you for not taking her side. so you stuck to the role of the listener, nodding your head and giving half assed sounds to show you were paying attention.

it wasn’t until a couple months later that you saw sungchan again. he came as your friend’s plus one to a gathering of your clique. they had broken up recently, something about your friend’s ex reaching out to her. every man in her life was a placeholder for her stupid ex, so you thought sungchan was free from her clutches. you don’t know why it was hard for you to pretend like you were unfazed seeing them together. there was a pang in your chest seeing sungchan go through the crowd following your friend.

when sungchan saw you he had the biggest smile you had ever seen on him. you couldn’t help but smile back, waving at the person you missed seeing in class. you weren’t to sure why sungchan never came to your class anymore, but you were almost certain it had to do with your friend.

for the whole night you were stealing glances and sharing eye contact with him. your friend was stuck to his side the whole night, showing off her arm candy to everyone at the party. you assumed this was her way of launching the relationship, posting him on her story for the first time. you regretfully look back at the time you spent with sungchan and how you never made a move. you tried to comfort yourself by thinking he was a terrible boyfriend, something your friend had told you.

you didn’t get any time alone with sungchan until he came to you while you were making yourself a drink. he approached you with a big smile on his face, almost like he was happy to see you.

“long time no see.” sungchan said.

you looked up from the bar and you couldn’t help but smile at him too.

“you’re the one that never comes to class,” you said. “we did really good on our project, by the way.”

“i know. i moved to a different class so i can—it doesn’t really matter actually.” sungchan said.

you both sat there awkwardly, waiting for the conversation to flow the same way it did all those months ago. you weren’t sure if your friend told sungchan about you, if you knew about their tumultuous relationship. sungchan seemed to know something, because he suddenly leaned to whisper into your ear asking if he could talk to you in private.

when sungchan got you alone in the tiny bathroom, he said nothing. he looked everywhere but at you, trying to find out what he wanted to say. you thought about your friend outside, how upset she would be if she found you so close to sungchan. she left your mind as you looked at sungchan. you hated that he didn’t come to class anymore, depriving you of you favorite thing to look at in class. you would be lying if you wouldn’t look at sungchan’s back while the teacher droned on about chemical bonds and imagine what he looked like without his shirt off. it was juvenile, but it got you through the day.

it only got worse after your project and sungchan’s absence in class made you miss him even more. without something to focus on your mind began to wander to filthier things, like what sounds he made or words he word say. being so close to him made you recall moments underneath your sheets where you pretended your fingers were his.

“i need to ask you something.” sungchan said.

you nodded your head towards sungchan, encouraging him to go on.

“why didn’t you tell me about her?” sungchan asked.

he looked sad as he explained to you how awful your friend was. all of the missing holes in her story suddenly made sense. you hated to admit you didn’t believe your friend, seeing how she acted in previous relationships. but now you saw how her toxicity effected sungchan directly. sungchan talked about her ex, how she cheated on him. you bit your tongue to stop yourself from asking why he went back. you knew that he didn’t have the answer and you knew your friend to be very charming when she had to be.

“i’m sorry.” is all you could say after sungchan told you everything.

i would never treat you that way threatened to slip past your lips but you stood your ground. sungchan looked at you expectantly, like he was wanting more before he got a text asking where he was. he snuck out of the bathroom and you downed the drink in your hand.

the rest of the gathering you spent drinking. you felt a deep regret for not being able to comfort sungchan, to say something more than sorry. there was no reason for you to be sorry. he had the chance to leave, it was his choice to stay. you ignored him for the rest of the party, watching your friend constantly leave the room to talk to someone on her phone. by then end of the night your friend had left to god knows where. you had assumed sungchan had left with her until you left. you found sungchan sitting outside on the stoop of the apartment building.

when he saw you he got up suddenly, stumbling a little bit. he must’ve been drinking too.

“she had an early morning tomorrow, so she left.” sungchan said.

“she left you at this party where you don’t know anybody?” you asked.

“i know you. she told me you live in the same building as me so maybe we could catch a ride together?” sungchan asked.

“let’s do it.” you say.

you stand beside sungchan waiting for him to finish booking the ride on the phone. if he was waiting outside and was going to pay for it completely by himself he could’ve left a long time ago. you were never good at reading people, but sungchan was like an open book. you knew he was craving something tender and loving, intimacy that was lacking in his relationship. the alcohol in your system buzzed and receptors in your brain fired off when sungchan opened the car door for you.

you were in the backseat of the car together for only a moment before you scooted to the middle seat. you let your thighs touch sungchan’s before fully leaning into him. he stiffened beside you but didn’t move. when the car exited the parking he brought a hand to rest on your thigh. you put your hand over his and looked at him. you found that sungchan was already looking at you, his eyes staring directly into yours. when the car got on the highway you took a gentle hand to his face and pulled him in for a kiss. the rest of the journey to the building his lips were on yours, sucking on your bottom lip as his hands pulled your face closer.

you two didn’t break apart until the driver stopped in front of your apartment building. you watched sungchan tip the driver extra and he followed behind you closely as you got into the elevator.

you pressed the button to take you to the seventh floor. sungchan’s hand hesitated before pressing the number five. you couldn’t stop your heart from dropping.

“we shouldn’t.” sungchan whispered as the door closed.

“we really shouldn’t.” you agreed.

as the elevator took you up, you noticed sungchan getting closer to you. you slowly let him back you into a corner of the tiny space, your body leaned against the elevator walls. you looked up at the man in front of you, aware of how he towered over you. in any other situation you would’ve been scared, but there was something so soft about the way sungchan looked at you.

the same hand that pulled you closer to him in the car came to rest on your face. sungchan swiped a thumb across your lip, still glossy from his spit.

“i’m a bad boyfriend.” sungchan whispered.

the elevator door opened to the fifth floor. you and sungchan both watched the door to the elevator close before lifting both of you to the seventh floor.

that night sugnchan didn’t go to his room. he fucked you in the entry way of your room up against the wall, not even giving you a chance to make it to the bedroom. he moaned and bit your skin, telling you he wished it was you he ended up with. how he wished what he was doing didn’t feel so good. you let sungchan mark you and touch you the way he wanted, moaning in agreement to his words. you wished being a terrible friend felt bad, but all you felt was euphoria as sungchan had you pinned against the wall.

sungchan was strong but he was gentle, pressing kisses to your face as he slid in. he carried you to your bedroom and you rode him, telling him that he deserved good things in life too. when sungchan pulled you to the crook of his neck he let out a broken whine as he came inside of you. you clenched around him and he rubbed your clit until you did the same.

that night set the dynamic for your relationship. you had to set up rules and sungchan followed them with no complaints. he would do anything you told him as long as he got to come and see you. it became a part of your routine, getting a text from sungchan late in the night asking if he could come over. it got easier with time, lying to your friend. you saw it as karma for how terrible she was towards sungchan and towards you. you stopped thinking about her after a month, no longer trying to have revenge on your toxic friend. it became more about sungchan, trying to mend him back together with kisses and sex.

it was raining this time when sungchan came to you. he was soaking wet, caught in the torrential rain outside. you wanted to believe that he came here to see you, but the downcast look on his face and flower in his hand told you a different story.

“can i come in?” sungchan asked you.

you don’t know why he continued to ask you questions like this, as if you could ever bring yourself to say no to him. you nodded your head and opened your door all the way, letting the man through.

he got water on your carpet as he took off his outer layer of clothes. sungchan stood in the entry way, waiting for you to tell him what to do. you remembered the clothes he left over at your place last time he visited.

“wait here i’ll get you a towel and clothes.” you said before walking away.

when your arrangement first started, you would always interrogate sungchan on what transpired when he’d show up at your door. sungchan would just shrug his shoulders and mutter the situation under his breath shamefully.

she’s seeing her ex again.

i was locked out.

we had a big argument.

she needed time to cool off.

after awhile you stopped asking sungchan for the details. the curiosity and worry used to eat away at you, seeing someone usually so happy close to tears. you thought you’d never see sungchan the way you saw him every late night he came to your door. you always wondered if she ever thought she was in the wrong.

you stopped asking sungchan because you could see it physically pain him to talk about something with the wound so fresh. he would normally just tell you what happened while he had you bent over a table, or when he had your chest pressed against his.

you knew that leading up to the sex, sungchan needed the tenderness that was absent in his real relationship. so you would wordlessly let him into your apartment, warm him up leftovers, and hand him clothes to change into. after everything, you two would snuggle on your couch together watching television. he would hold you so close and thank you profusely, gratitude you would wave off with a hand. you could tell that the moments you spent together healed him just enough to go back. you could also tell that sungchan was very grateful for everything, and he always made sure to give it back to you in bed. the night would always end with both of you just looking to the other and silently pleading. you would open the door for sungchan and he would kiss you deeply. it was the type of kiss that you thought was reserved for girlfriends only, the type of kiss that made you believe he didn’t want to leave you.

doing acts of service for sungchan always made you feel conflicted. when he was with you, couldn’t help but feel responsible for him in ways you couldn’t really comprehend. it started off with just sex. you were always determined to make him feel good like continuing to ride him even if your legs were burning from the exertion or taking in all of him even when you felt like you were being split open. maybe you looked at his face when he was in a state of bliss too much, maybe that’s what got you attached. since you and sungchan started your arrangement you found yourself thinking about him more and more. when he wasn’t around you hoped he was doing well, at night before you slept you would be thinking about him.

thinking about him so often made it hard to remember that he wasn’t yours. sungchan had you wanting to hold his hand at friend gatherings. you always came to your senses right at the last second. reaching out a hand to him you had to pull away quickly when your friend came from the other room. leaning against the wall instead of leaning against sungchan when she wasn’t looking. looking for sungchan’s face in the crowd while he followed closely behind his girlfriend. as time passed you got used to it. you knew that he was looking for your face in the crowd too.

sungchan had his hand on the back of the couch, letting you curl into him and he traced patterns on your clothed shoulder. you two had found your own domestic routine, shrouded in infidelity. it’s all too much when you think about it for too long, that’s why you’re grateful when sungchan slightly squeezes your thigh. you look away from the tv show to him.

“i missed you.” sungchan says.

he pinches your cheek and you smile at the affection. he looked so handsome like this, with his hair slightly wet form the rain. before you knew it you were running your hands through his strands, turning your body to face him better.

“i missed you too.” you said.

sungchan leaned his head back as you continued to play with his hair. he smiled and he felt like his heart leaped out of his chest hearing that you missed him.

“how much did you miss me?” sungchan asks, eying you.

you are still playing with his hair trying to think of a quantity. you could tell him then and there that you wish he could be with you the same way he was with his girlfriend, and that you could treat him better. a million things rush through your mind, all of them being admissions of love. so instead of talking, you use your hands to hold sungchan’s face.

“you know i’m not good with words,” you look into his eyes before looking at his lips. “i can show you, though.”

a second doesn’t even pass before sungchan picks you up from the couch bridal style. you always laugh when he carries you like this, holding you like you’re nothing.

he always took the time to set you gently on the bed, standing in front of you to take off his shirt. sungchan always made sure to show you how grateful he was, giving you a little show while he undressed himself. he knew you loved to gawk at his body. you dragged him to the edge of the bed by the waistband of his pants. you ran. a hand over his abs, hard underneath his soft skin. he was mesmerizing, you couldn’t understand how anybody could be mean to someone so beautiful.

“your body…” you said.

sungchan said nothing in response as his hands to the end of your shirt, helping you out of it. he threw it somewhere else in the room as he gently pushed your shoulders down until your back was on the bed. he helped you out of your pajama pants, leaving you only in your underwear. you move more to the center of the bed, giving sungchan the space to come lay next to you as he took his pants off. you lift the sheets and settle underneath them, lifting up the end for sungchand to slide in next to you.

sungchan liked taking off underwear underneath the sheets. you imagined he liked it because it was the most intimate that way, revealing all of yourself underneath the sheets. this wasn’t the way it was all the time though. sometimes sungchan would be extra pent up, desperate to the point that he would eat you out over your panties, or only push them to the side before fucking you. sometimes he would be a little mean, fucking into you while you grabbed onto anything for support. it was hard to decide what you preferred, the vanilla sungchan or the desperate kinky sungchan. no matter what you got, you were always satisfied.

after he got into the sheets next to you, sungchan’s hands immediately went to your hips. he guided you out of your panties and to rest above his body, dragging your heat against his clothed dick. he twitched and strained in his boxers feeling you, and you were sure you were getting slick on his boxers. you start grinding your hips into his as sungnchan lets his hands roam your body.

“i want you so bad.” sungchan says.

“you got me.” you say.

his hands go to the back of your bra to undo the clasp. you let your bra fall off of you, and sungchan’s hand goes to your breast. you try to raise your body from sungchan’s to get a better angle to grind on him, but a hand keeps you two chest to chest.

“want you close.” sungchan whines.

you keep grinding on him at a slow and grueling pace. you were getting impatient with want filling your brain. sungchan was a masochist in this way, making himself wait to fuck you until he couldn’t take it anymore. you’re sure it had something to do with the guilt of cheating on his girlfriend. you figured that when sungchan screwed his eyes shut as he dragged your hips against his that he was trying to convince himself to leave your apartment. maybe he was pretending that you were his girlfriend. these were the things you only wanted to think about when he wasn’t there, not wen his dick was pressed against you like this.

“sungchan.” you whimpered.

he opened his large doe eyes to look at you. you leaned into him closely, until your lips touched his ear.

“please fuck me.” you whispered.

sungchan lifted his hips to take off his underwear and you helped him push it off with your feet.

sungchan takes his dick in his hand and you grab it too. he has to close his eyes again to let out a content sigh. something about the way you touched him just felt so nice, something he wasn’t sure he deserved to experience. but every night you let him in, so he must have earned it somehow.

“i love when you hold it.” sungchan said.

his voice was barely above a whisper, having to use all his effort to hold the moans back.

“you like it alot?” you said, giving his dick short pumps for emphasis.

sungchan nodded. he should really stop using the word love around you.

“i like it alot.” sungchan moaned.

“can i put it in baby?” you ask.

your voice has become whiny too. sungchan uses his hand to quickly guide himself inside of you and pushes your hips down to take all of him. you are moaning into the crook of his neck as you slowly take all of him.

“you’re so tight.” sungchan says. ”should’ve fingered you first. i’m sorry.”

“don’t apologize. it feels so good.” you whimper.

knowing that you feel good goads sungchan on. he lets you adjust only for a moment before rocking his hips back into you, pulling his face away from yours to see your reaction. he can feel himself throbbing at the way you clench around him, the way your eyes close from the pleasure.

“just wanna make you feel good.” sungchan says.

“you always make me feel good.” you say.

you start moving your hips the same way sungchan moves his, meeting him in the middle. you bring a hand to rest on sungchan’s hand and he sighs.

sungchan can hear your bed creak under the weight and movement of your bodies. there were times sungchan would have your bed screaming for mercy, threatening to break underneath his harsh thrusts as he fucked you. he loved the sound of the harsh creaking, wearing it like a badge of honor. but he loved this sound move—light and constant like rain.

sugnchan couldn’t comprehend why he felt so at peace rocking into you. he brought your head from his neck to rest your forehead against his. you opened your eyes to look at him and sungchan could see his reflection in your blown out pupils. the sight makes him desperate, it brings him closer to his euphoria.

“she doesn’t treat me like you do.” sungchan said.

your eyes didn’t change as you processed what he said.

“i know.” you said simply. “harder. please.”

sungchan lets himself thrust into you a little harder, throwing off the tempo you both had fallen into. the soft creak of the bed changes to something a little harsher. sungchan’s large hand is placed over yours on his hip and he digs the pads of his fingers into your hip bone. sungchan hold your eye contact as your hips still.

“i wish you were mine.” sungchan moans between his thrusts.

you clench around him and you cry out. you don’t know if it’s from his confession, the spot he hit, or a mixtue of both. regardless, it has you digging your nails into sungchan’s skin as a tear falls on his face.

“i wish you were, too.” you confess.

you start moving your hips again

“i would leave her if it meant i could have you.”

you shake your head at his words. you’re too close, too emotional to hear things sungchan might just be saying because he’s horny and lonely. you know that this ends with him going back until next time. so you grab a handful of his hair and tug lightly. you know sungchan loves the pain by the way he pulses inside of you.

“don’t think about her, just me.” you say breathlessly into his ear. you wished that what you said came off as jealousy. but both you and sungchan know that you are the one who occupies his mind. “cum for me, sungchan.”

you swear you hear sungchan say i love you as he releases inside of you. he holds you tight. as he takes the lead fucking into you, his teeth biting into your sweaty skin. you have to grip the sheets beside sungchan’s head to steady yourself as he fucks you deep and hard. his thrusts and whines of your name has you cumming too. sungchan fucks you well after his orgasm, making sure you can feel the same pleasure he felt. you can’t stop yourself from kissing his forehead after breaking apart from his lips. you kiss the hair that sticks to his forehead from the sweat and the apple of his cheeks. you kiss his teeth as his pulls of of you, and he brings you into a passionate kiss as you feel him seeping out of you.

sungchan keeps you on top of him, loving how he feels underneath your weight. you’re comforting and warm surrounding him completely. he doesn’t have any regrets about telling you he loves you, only that he wishes he said it louder so you could’ve heard it. maybe next time he will say it to you while you still have your clothes on. maybe he would tell you after taking you out on a proper date. sungchan wants to hold you there forever, he wants to cry when you slide your sticky body off of his to lay in the bed beside him.

laying there in silence with sungchan was too comforting. although your breath had settled back to its normal pace your heart was hammering in your chest. you thought it would burst if you continued to think about his offer just as you started thinking about sungchan’s offer snd how warm his hand was when he grabbed yours. you had to constantly tell yourself that you held sungchan’s hand for his benefit alone. you told yourself that he needed the innocent contact and the intimacy that came with it. you told yourself that he needed you to grip his hand a little tighter, that he needed you to turn to your side to look him in the eyes. you told yourself these lies to rationalize why you delicately brush his hair out of his face and why you scoot closer to him.

you think about his offer again, how this could be your view every night. you would never put him through the emotional turmoil your friend put him through. maybe sungchan could be the thing that finally pushed you to cut her off completely. you could only imagine the rumors she would spread about you. it was hard to think it wouldn’t be worth it when sungchan brought you into his chest.

sungchan’s phone went off and you instinctively freed yourself from his embrace. as you sat up on the bed letting your legs dangle over the side you could feel sungchan’s eyes bore holes into your skin. the phone continued to ring. you put on your most comforting voice before looking over your shoulder at him.

“you can answer it. i don’t mind.”

sungchan doesn’t do anything but sigh before reaching to the bedside table.

“hey.” sungchan says quietly into the phone.

the happiness in his voice was completely gone and the tender atmosphere in your room vanished. it suddenly felt so cold and sungchan felt so far away from you.

you could hear the dull murmur of your friend on the other end of the line. you weren’t sure what she was saying exactly, but you could get the gist through sungchan’s responses.

where are you?

sungchan looked at you before turning away to focus on the phone call.

“i’m at eunseok’s.” sungchan said.

you got up from the bed to put on the rest of your clothes. you were as quiet as you possibly could be, trying not to make any sounds that would be picked up by the phone.

why is your location off?

“where else would i go?” sungchan asked.

he looked at you as he asked the question. you held eye contact for a split second before pulling your pants up your legs.

are you ready to apologize yet?

“we aren’t going to talk about what happened first?”

you aren’t sure what your friend said next. all you know is that sungchan pulled the phone away from his ear to grimace. you could hear your friend got louder over the phone, the speakers peaking from the yelling.

you couldn’t stand to see sungchan so distressed so you left the room. you walked into the living room, picking up clothes that were strewn around in the heat of the moment. you took sungchan’s clothes out of the dryer, gathering his shirt and pants in your hands to bring it back to him.

you don’t know what was said after you left your bedroom, but you came back to sungchan gathering his things. you handed him his clothes, trying to seem as indifferent as possible.

“we are going to talk it out.” sungchan said.

“that’s good.” you said.

the notion that sungchan would inevitably go back always made moments like these awkward. where he would change out of his clothes and you had to think up a question to make it seem like your friend was being rational. you started choosing silence, just telling sungchan what he needed to hear to go back to her.

sungchan got dressed and left your bedroom. you followed behind him, staring at his back as you two went through your routine. he gathered the remainder of his things, slipping his phone into his back pocket and taking his keys off your command center. he would look at you with his puppy dog eyes, silently begging you to tell him to stay. you looked at him back the same way, silently begging him to do what he wants.

something felt different when you opened the door for sungchan this time. sungchan lingered a little longer in your door way, looking at your ball up fists at your side. you looked at him too, wondering what was going to happen next. you thought you were going to draw blood from your nails digging into your palms. the tension was undecipherable and thick, making your mind hazy.

you mind was cleared when sungchan closed the distance between the two of you. he kissed you desperately, and you reciprocated. your movements were even hastier than his, fisting the fabric of his white tee and leaning back so he was towering over you. sungchan wrapped his arms around your back and brought you closer.

you still had your lips puckered when sungchan pulled away from you. he looked down at you, adoration all over his face. his hands that wrapped around were moved to enclose your hands. he brought them to his face before kissing the back of your hands. sungchan looked scared, going over something in his mind a million times.

“can i stay here with you tonight?” sungchan asked.

you couldn’t stop your eyes from widening. his grip on his hands only tightened and you understood how nervous he felt. that’s why you immediately squeezed his hands back and nodded. sungchan pulled you into another kiss, this time slow and passionate. you closed the door and smiled into the kiss.

you were a bad friend.

sungchan was an even worse ex-boyfriend.

#requestz #01zfan: sungchan #sungchan smut #riize smut

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headspace-hotel · 2 months

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i promised myself "before I go back to school in the fall, something HAS to get better. SIGNIFICANTLY BETTER."

and i made the appointments, had the conversations, I spent hours wringing my brain out googling discussing with friends and family, thinking of SOMETHING, ANYTHING i could approach disability services about now that my previous suggestions had been shot down, and i went there with a list and i was like "hey is there ANY of this stuff you can do to help me" and basically? No

i asked "maybe i could have few extra excused absences so I can rest when i'm overloaded" but the lady was like Well we couldn't do that because you would miss the material in class

I asked "maybe i could have limited group projects so i don't have to be working on something with 4 other people every single day because social interaction is really tiring" she was like Well we can't do it if it would change the course substantially but we can ask that professors tell you if there's going to be lots of group projects so you can drop the class

I asked "maybe i can do in class writing assignments in a separate room so it will be less stressful" she was like well what if we couldn't guarantee that another room would be available where some one could monitor you

This is after the possibility of a partial course load was shot down (i could request it because of 'extenuating circumstances' but there's no guarantee it would be approved, and anyway i don't even know if it would fucking help) and several other things

Going back to school is just weighing on me crushing me. The past two semesters I have been so unrelentingly exhausted, miserable and alone. I hated my classes SO much and spent so much time crying.

All my classes are stupid busy work , just like worksheets that are like "do all these tiny little steps" that micromanage you painfully as if you can't be trusted to have your own independent thoughts" while the professor sits on their phone.

The grades are made up of a thousand tiny bullshit assignments that you have to remember at the right time, if you know the material and even care about learning it, it doesn't even matter.

I took a PLANT science class last semester that I honest to god hated so much it took all the strength in my body to even go to class. I LOATHED it and I got a C in it even though it was highschool level crap and the assignments were so restrictive that they basically punished you for being passionate about anything, I would try to be creative or dig more deeply on things and my classmates (it was always a mother fucking group project because the professor didn't want to fucking lecture, just give us something to kill time like we were fucking preschoolers) hated it because creativity or thinking outside the box would always make the assignment harder for everyone and I would fuck up the grade and it made me feel so ashamed

Same class where the professor said "you can tell this is a peer reviewed journal article because it's written in two columns along the page" like what. What. Huh. What.

There is so little flexibility too like the requirements are so specifically made to "mold" me a certain way. No one sees anything I have already learned or is interested in my potential and ability and passion and keen interest that i HAVE IN ABUNDANCE by the way, and the classes are so boring and passionless

I approached a lady in the arts department about an independent study involving natural plant fibers but she was like "no sorry i only work with seniors and you would have to take these 2 of my other classes"

There is so much more that's stupid and dysfunctional about this college that is too specific to discuss with privacy online, but let it suffice to say that it's a school that wants the reputation of being really challenging and rigorous soooooo bad but it actually just has 1000 inflexible requirements that eliminate everyone's free time and assigns metric tons of tedious busy work, because being "hard" means our academics are "rigorous" right? but the quality of the academics is not good, the classes are not engaging or encouraging you to think more deeply they are just painful.

And no one, fucking no one in these classes is engaging with the work with any energy or passion or enthusiasm, the professors can't get a discussion going, everyone is just staring like a bunch of zombies because their classes r like the equivalent of two full time jobs so of course no one can Engage Deeply with them they have no fucking energy

the food is like eating out of the garbage. they reheat the same pieces of pizza over and over until they're like dried out and leathery like something from a pharaohs tomb. they have bagels kept in a box and they're so stale you can't even bite into them. I got sour, rotten milk from the milk machine so many times my stomach eventually couldn't take drinking milk from there at all.

i hate, hate, hate, HATE that place so much i start crying every time I try to make plans for fall because there is so little fucking joy in my life when i'm there it's like being trapped underground.

#vent #negative #college

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roosterforme · 4 months

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It has been too long since you heard from Bradley. Perhaps something went wrong. Or maybe he was avoiding you. Just when you start trying to accept that the last few months were too good to be true, things start to turn around again.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley being sweet

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Days went by. With only two weeks left of Bradley's deployment, you weren't really expecting to receive air mail at school with your name on it, but you certainly did miss it anyway. Your students asked about him every morning, wondering if he'd sent a new email, hoping for another video with Marty. But you got nothing in either of your email inboxes.

He was on your mind almost constantly. What happened on his mission? Did the Navy decide it was okay to cut off communication right when you were completely attached to hearing from him? Did this really mean you had to wait until the aircraft carrier arrived back in San Diego?

It was right before your students were due to arrive in your classroom that you had perhaps the most distressing thoughts of all. What if something went terribly wrong and he didn't survive? Or what if this was simply his way of ghosting you before he had to see you in person?

Jayden raced in ahead of the rest of your class, calling your name along the way. "Did Lieutenant Bradshaw write back yet?"

You pointed him toward his desk as you shook your head. "I already explained that he may not have time to respond before his deployment ends."

Jayden just bounced in place in front of you. "Then that means he can visit us when he gets back!"

Now a small group of your kids surrounded you, and you wished more than anything that you could tell them that Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, their beloved pen pal, would definitely be visiting your classroom in a few short days. Instead you told them, "Please, take your seats so we can start our Natural History lesson."

This turned out to be your new normal. Every time you got an email notification, you jumped to unlock your phone, but it was never a message from Bradley. When you saw a box tucked in your mail cubby in the school office, you ran for it, only to find the science supplies you ordered weeks ago had arrived. You even forced yourself to go back and read some of the old emails from him, just to make sure it all really happened, but his words left you aching for more.

...I like giving Gorgeous teachers butterflies...

...You'd look adorable snuggled up in your bed. But then again, when aren't you completely Gorgeous?...

...Gorgeous girl, you're messing with my head...

...And it's not a matter of if I touch you, it's a matter of when...

After nearly two weeks had gone by, you tried to figure out if the USS Theodore Roosevelt was back in port, but short of driving to North Island to see for yourself, you couldn't seem to find a solid answer online. And if you did drive there and found it at the dock, what were you supposed to do? Contact the US Navy? If they told you that nothing happened to Lieutenant Bradshaw and that he was perfectly fine, you'd be mortified. If they told you something in fact did happen to him in the last two weeks, you'd be devastated. That's assuming you could even get them to give you any information at all which was doubtful.

On Friday, you were on the verge of tears as you got ready for work. "You're being ridiculous," you whispered, and that fact made you want to cry even more. You tried to take the time to make yourself look presentable, thinking that may be the key to having a good day. Your outfit was cute. Your makeup looked nice. But you weren't smiling, and you didn't feel like doing so at all.

You grabbed your bag, hoping the short ride with your favorite playlist would be enough to get your spirits up, but all you could think about was how you probably weren't cut out for life with a guy in the military anyway. Waiting around like this to see what was going on was making your stomach upset, and you weren't getting enough sleep. When you closed your eyes, you just pictured a very kissable face with a scarred cheek and big brown eyes.

"You need to focus," you scolded as you parked your car and headed into the school with your ID badge. You had eighteen kids who required your attention, and you'd once again give it to them, because you were fantastic at your job.

This morning, Violet was the first one to mention Bradley in passing, and you had to shake your head. "Please find your seats. If I hear from Lieutenant Bradshaw, I promise I will let you know. I'm not hiding any letters or emails from you all, okay?" You tried to smile as you said, "I'd like to hear from him every bit as badly as you would. I can guarantee that."

You struggled through your morning lessons, often reminding yourself that you needed to focus on your students. Then you sat quietly at your desk with the classroom lights off during lunch, scrolling back through the dozens of emails you'd exchanged with Bradley on your phone. You pulled up the picture of the sun setting behind him in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and even though you tried, you couldn't find anything other than the most sincere expression on his handsome face.

Maybe he would text you this weekend, letting you know he was back and your date was on. You had to believe he would still contact you. When the bell rang, you counted to ten, and then your students came flooding back through your classroom door. They wanted to tell you all about how Jasper from Mrs. Wynn's class got in trouble during lunch, and you humored them before saying, "I'm sure none of you would misbehave like that in the cafeteria."

"No way!" Henry promised.

"That's what I like to hear," you told him with a forced smile. "Once you're all in your seats, we'll start our math lesson. Maybe I'll put a few aviation problems on the board at the end if you show me how well you can focus for the next twenty minutes."

You had just started copying the first fraction that you wanted to discuss from your notebook onto the board when there was a sharp knock on your classroom door. You sighed and let your forehead rest briefly on the white board, knowing that another disruption would completely derail your kids after all the lunchtime nonsense. When you turned to face the door, they were already starting to chatter with each other.

"Come in!" you called out, and every head in your room whipped around to see who was there and what they wanted.

When the door swung open, the room went silent. The first thing you thought about was how peculiar it was to see someone in a khaki military uniform standing there. Then your eyes slid up that tall, muscular frame as your lips parted in surprise. As soon as you met his gaze, he smiled and said, "Hey, Gorgeous."

You couldn't speak. As he took a full step into your classroom and pulled the door closed, you finally noticed he was holding some pretty flowers. Then he was heading your way, his combat boots squeaking ever so slightly against the tile floor with each long stride. Bradley Bradshaw wasn't hesitating at all as he made his way directly to you while your students started talking again.

"It's Lieutenant Bradshaw!"

"I knew he'd come visit us ever since I asked him to!"

"Does this mean his deployment is over?"

"Why does he have flowers?"

He didn't stop until he was standing right in front of you, and the butterflies in your belly were fluttering so much, you were convinced you could float off of the floor. You weren't sure what else to say, so you simply whispered, "Bradley."

His smile grew as he said, "I love the way that sounds when you say it." You could only squeak in response, and his warm gaze flicked from your eyes down to your lips. At this rate you'd be a puddle at his feet in the next ten seconds. He swallowed hard, cheeks flushed as he leaned in closer, taking another small step forward until his boot gently bumped your shoe. His voice took on a raspier edge as said, "You told me you wanted me to kiss you as soon as I saw you."

He didn't stop slowly closing the distance, and when you reached out and let your fingers tangle with his, you whispered, "Please." Then you closed your eyes as his lips brushed feather light against yours. You gasped. He was here. Nothing had ever felt as good as this in your life. You opened your eyes to find him grinning right in front of you, and you chased him for another one of his dreamy kisses.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw kissed her!"

"I think they're in love!"

"They are definitely going to be girlfriend and boyfriend!"

Bradley wrapped his fingers around yours a little tighter as you and he laughed, and he ducked his head before looking up at your class. His cheeks were the most alluring shade of pink as he told them, "Hey, I hope you don't mind that I decided to surprise you and your teacher."

"We don't mind!" shouter Oliver as he was practically sitting on his desk now in excitement. All of the kids were bouncing with anticipation, and you couldn't stop smiling as Violet clapped her hands together.

"Great, because I brought my responses to your last batch of letters, too. I can't thank you enough for being my pen pals for the last few months. You made my time away from home a lot more fun." He turned to look at you before softly adding, "And you made coming back home feel really good."

You wanted to kiss him again. You wanted to run your fingers along his scars and press your lips to his skin in their wake. You wanted to bury your nose against his neck and inhale the smell of his skin and his uniform collar. You wanted to feel his mustache on your lips. Instead, because every eye in the room was on the two of you, you told him, "I'm really happy you're here." You tugged on his hand so he was standing front and center, and you turned to your kids and asked, "What do we say when we have a special guest visit us?"

"Thank you!" they all shouted in unison.

"That's right," you told them. Then you looked up at Bradley, and he handed you the flowers with a crooked little grin, and that's when you noticed he had a small notebook in his hand as well.

"Can I call each kid up to get their letter?" he asked, as if you would deny him anything at the moment. "Then I can put faces to all of the names."

You were still definitely at risk of melting. "You wrote each of them a personal letter again?" you asked him, holding your flowers to your chest and trying not to swoon.

"Yeah," he replied, opening his notebook to show you. He stood there, looking devastatingly sexy, tearing out a page for every kid. He called each of them up and talked to them for a minute. He remembered the name of Jayden's dog. He remembered that Violet loved neon-colored everything. He remembered that Henry said his grandfather was in the Navy. He remembered so much, and he was so willing to indulge all of their questions.

You just stood there with your flowers and watched this endearing man captivate all nineteen of you with his words. He let Oliver try on one of his insignia pins. He drew a diagram of an aircraft carrier on your white board. He met your gaze more often than not. He smiled at you every time he did. He told your students that the reason they were so smart was because you were such a good teacher. The butterflies were here to stay now.

When you looked around, you noticed that your kids were cherishing their personal notes just like you were your flowers. You didn't want this afternoon to end, and yet, as soon as the first bell rang at three o'clock, you jumped to attention. The sooner your students cleared out of the room for the weekend, the sooner you could hopefully have a few minutes alone with Bradley before he wanted to go home and rest.

"We need to pack up," you announced, finally setting the bouquet down on your desk while Bradly affixed his pin back on his uniform shirt.

"Do we have to?" whined Jayden. "Lieutenant Bradshaw like just got here!"

He had in fact been in your classroom for over two hours, but you couldn't blame them for wanting more. Bradley cleared his throat and looked at you as he said, "I could come back again?" with that sincere gaze you were already weak for. "Spend a few more hours answering questions? Maybe bring some engine parts with me?"

You bit your lip before you could whimper out loud, and he started to head in your direction. "We would love that," you told him.

"Yeah?" he asked you as your kids erupted into a rowdy mob, grabbing all of their belongings as the final bell rang.

"Mmhmm," you hummed, waving lazily to your students as they shouted their goodbyes to both you and Bradley. His steps had him reaching you right as the last few kids left your room, and you whispered, "You'll come back?"

He reached for your hand as he said, "I'll do anything you want, Gorgeous." He must have been able to read the needy look on your face, because when you tugged on his hand, he came all the way to you. His other hand ended up at your waist as his lips found yours, and this time, the feather light kisses deepened as you parted your lips. Bradley groaned softly, kissing you just right, and then he whispered, "I've been dying for this."

Your arms went around his neck, kissing him a little frantically, melting at his touch and the feel of his soft, wavy hair between your fingers. "Me too," you told him before pulling his bottom lip gently between yours. He backed you up until you bumped into your desk, and all you could think about was how good his weight would feel on top of you.

Your skin felt too hot when he finally broke the kiss, panting softly as you ran your thumb along his scars. "I didn't like not hearing from you the past two weeks," you told him, and his brown eyes softened even as his hold on you tightened a little bit. "It was... kind of scary."

"I didn't like it either," he told you. "And I was going to text you immediately when we docked this morning, but then I decided to just come here instead." He grinned as your fingers crept back up into his hair. "If they didn't let me sign in with my military ID in the front office, I don't know what I would have done. I just wanted to see you."

You kissed his chin and said, "Usually I hate surprises. But this one was perfect."

"Okay, see, that's good information to know," he rasped. "I only got a ride home long enough to throw my duffle in the front door and hop in my Bronco. I stopped for the flowers, and then I just wanted to get here with my notebook."

You tipped your head back and whispered, "How am I supposed to deal with how sweet you are?"

"Oh! That reminds me," he muttered, rubbing his hand along your back before releasing you and strolling over to where he left his notebook on Oliver's desk. The way your body wanted you to follow him was surprising, but it gave you a chance to look at him again from head to toe as you stood next to your desk. There was nothing out of place on this man, and you pressed your lips together as his bicep flexed against his shirt sleeve. He tore another sheet of paper from his notebook and said, "I have one more note to deliver."

He walked back over to you, and when he held it up with a hopeful look, you took it from him and read.

Hey, Gorgeous. I couldn't wait one more minute to see you. And now that I'm here, I don't want today to end. Is there any way I can convince you to let me take you out for our first official date tonight instead of tomorrow? Bradley

When you looked up from the page, his eyebrows were raised, and that crooked little grin was hovering close to the surface. "I know I said to plan for tomorrow, but I can't fucking wait that long."

You bit down on your lip, shocked by how much better today turned out to be than you could have ever imagined earlier this morning. "Yeah. You've convinced me, Bradley. Tonight sounds perfect."

With that, you were treated to a little smirk beneath his mustache. He carefully took the sheet of notebook paper from your hands, set it down next to the flowers on your desk and proceeded to kiss you senseless.

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

He's going to make me hyperventilate. Those kids were SO excited to have him in their classroom, but they were nowhere near as excited as Gorgeous! He's home! And he wants to have his beach picnic and takeout and makeout sesh immediately. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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callingmelili · 8 months

Text

A deal.

So I am currently in a virtual class and I should probably be paying attention. I'm sure my teacher would not be impressed by me writing this when I'm supposed to be taking notes, but of course this would be the moment for the horny muse to come back. I may have a second part thought out too.

My set up is the usual, full-body mirror, one of those light rings I used to make fun of other girls from having, mat on the floor in case the gif he sends requires me to kneel. Mark's contact winks at me from the messaging app on my phone, online and writing. His messages always come between seven and ten pm, never at the same time, the bastard has been taking up this window of time every Friday for the last three months.

This time around, the message comes early.

It's only a gif, but it's the worst one so far. A girl kneeling on the floor in knee socks, hair in pigtails , tits bouncing inside a lace bralette as she bounces on a dildo stuck to the floor. A text comes in right after. 'You have 20 minutes, Mia.'

I sigh and head for my dresser, this is the first time one of Mark's gifs goes that far. But do i have another choice? I don't. He is not my boyfriend, he is not a man I can say not to, even if he didn't have a bunch of humiliating videos of me --if he made them public, he'd be shooting himself in the foot anyways, I have proof that he's the only person I've sent them to-- he has something worse… for now.

He and I have a deal. No, really. We do.

Honestly, when he first caught me cheating on a test, I thought I was done for. He was my advisor at the moment, able to report me without breaking a sweat. I never have been a particularly good student and I would have been done for.

I didn't make it this far into graduate school without being decently stubborn, though and I grasped at the one straw still within my reach. I would laugh at how cliche it is if it wasn't my life right now.

Obviously I told him to ask anything of me. I had seen how he looked at me during our one-on-one thesis, I was fully expecting to be asked to get on my knees and blow him, I was also more than prepared to do it if it spared me expulsion.

What he asked for was… a step further.

But I really had no other choice. It was either do this until the end of the semester or face being exposed and expulsed. So far he has only asked me to emulate the gifs, nitpicking only rarely. I had to do a couple repeat performances of the fourth gift he sent me of a blonde girl deepthroating a dildo. He kept saying it was not 'far enough' and my face was not 'red enough', pouting, I scroll up to glare at the finished product of that particular exchange. My eyes are watering and my cheeks are flaming red. Brown hair frames my face as I furiously work the dildo in and out of my mouth. It takes me a while to look away.

"I better get this over with," I say to no one in particular before turning up the light and leaving the camera on standby.

Sighing, I get my hair into the pigtails first before getting the dildo with the suction cup out from it's usual place in a box under my underwear. I have no bralette's that look just like the girl's so I end up wearing the top of a swimsuit instead. The socks I do have a pair of similar ones, only in baby blue rather than pink. Mark usually doesn’t mind small changes due to unavailability of certain items in my apartment, and anyways it shows about the same amount of skin.

"And now as for the pose…" The mat has to go so the dildo can stick to the floor and I can feel the skin of my knees protest as soon as I lower myself over it. The silicone meets slick, oversensitive flesh and I am torn between feeling shame or being relieved that I don't have to warm myself up for it. My thighs are already shaking, skin prickling at the cold of the floor and how a hear seems to have settled deep within my pelvis.

As if on cue, my phone buzzes with a message, then another and another.

'5 minutes left, Mia.'

'Tic, toc.'

Drawing in a shaky breath I reach forward and turn the camera on. It's set up to stream only to him. Sometimes he will return the favor, I found it gross at first but it's even stranger to do all these things while only hearing his voice coming from my computer speakers. "You could be trying more with the top." He laughs, speak of the devil. Tonight he wants to keep his face hidden it seems, it doesn’t show up in the computer screen.

"Just why would you think I would have that sort of underwear?" I hiss.

I can imagine him shrugging. "You're the type that's usually prepared? Anyhow, I don't like it, just take it off."

"But--"

"Take it off, you're bare-cunted already. What's the damage with me seeing your nipples?"

My thighs shake. "Fine." The bra is the tie-up kind, two swift pulls and it's falling off my tits, leaving my nipples to stand in response to the cold air in the room. "Damn, you could do a better job pretending you don't like this. I can see how wet your cunt is from here."

I roll my eyes at the camera. "I like to be prepared, as you said." I lick my lips, glancing at the mirror. "Lets just get this over with."

"Aye," he laughs, "Well, first off, sit down baby. Aren't your knees getting tired?"

Of course, he means sit down on the dildo I am hovering over. I do so, slowly. Wet as I am, the intrusion stretches me beyond what I'm prepared for, making the descent a little shaky and making me moan. "That's a nice face," mark comments.

"Fuck-- Fuck you." I say, glaring at the camera.

"Of course you wish it was me baby." I can imagine him grinning. "Alas, you're gonna have to do the work there. I believe the girl on the gif has her legs spread out wider." I shiver, but do as told. I can feel the tip of the dildo pressing up into my cervix. "No, wider." I whine. "Wait, no, that's too wide, go back."

The inside of my thighs is wet already, moving on the dildo proves easier than it should. "Good?" I ask, between forced breaths.

"Hmm, good. But stick your ass out more." I do, and the tip of the dildo brushes something that makes me lose my balance and cry out. "Ha! Well, that isn't quite it but do stay there." He laughs, again. "Now, start bouncing."

If I could I'd sag with relief, but all I can do is bounce and hope he's satisfied soon.

Five minutes later I can't believe how wrong I was. "Nope, stop!" He calls, like he's directing a porno and I guess he is. I can't help the protesting jerk of my hips when he does. "Get off on this later, will you?" He huffs. "Cross your eyes more, Mia, and stay still for a second." Time stretches, silent for far more than a second. "Ok, now."

It's the second time he does it, and there are a third and a fourth. I'm not dripping on only the dildo now, but also the floor. He doesn't care, I'm sure enough now that he's somehow learned to see when I'm close and he always stops me at that point before pleasure becomes pure heat. "Isn't that enough?" I pant after the latest interruption.

"No, again. Push your chest out, show the girls off, will you?" His voice is lower now than it ever is in class and I'm so tired by now, knees aching and core throbbing that I just mindlessly obey, eyes crossing, hips slamming down once, twice, three times. This time he doesn’t stop talking, but none of his words urge me to stop or slow down this time. Rather, Mike encourages me. I can't say he compliments me but it's all the same to my foggy mind. "That's it Mia. That's it little whore. The tongue is a nice detail but you're going to have to repeat this performance just for that." He laughs. "No, don't stop on my account, you're too far gone. I thought you weren't getting off on this? My little, pathetic Mia, don't think I haven't noticed just how you get all the other times." It's only his voice filling the room, only his voice and the sound of my ass slapping into the floor, losing rhythm as I come closer and closer, slumping forward and losing form. I know he'll make me repeat it now, I don't care, I just want to cum. "That's right, that's all you want isn't it? Not even to be free from our little deal, you'd sell yourself out for an orgasm, wouldn't you? Well go ahead."

I just want to cum, and I do.

Afterwards, I'm slumped forward, dildo still halfway inside me as I catch my breath. That's when I hear the tell-tale sound of the lock on the front door, and then a familiar voice, coming from both the living room and my computer. "By the way Mia I forgot to tell you I'd be dropping by to drop some material for your thesis off." Mark laughs, it echoes off the walls. "I also wanted to talk about a couple of things. Stay right where you are and maybe I'll be nice and give you a passing grade on this little recreation of ours, even though you didn't get it quite right."

#dumbification #mind control #story #blackmail #corruption kink #exhibtionist

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king-dumbasz · 6 months

Note

Hi🫶🏻🫶🏻 could u do a mammon oneshot that takes place after fizz quits.(pretending the twins don’t exist) Like the reader is like the new face of his brand. Ppl start shipping the reader and him online, so he goes along with it for clout and money. But they both eventually end up catching feelings. ( ik it’s rlly specific but I keep thinking about it) also I like ur writing 💜

The internet is a magical place💚

I immediately liked the request and had an idea in mind. It's not something too difficult so my mind was happy Lmao

TW:why do I even put it in if there's never anything to worry about except for swear words, but c'mon, it's Helluva Boss

Mammon x GN! Reader

The news were full of what happened at the last clown pageant. Everything was about Fizzarolli and his relationship with Asmodeus and how Mammon was ridiculed...

Mammon was FURIOUS

He needed a new face, a new someone to put everywhere and make money. He did everything until he finally found it... He found you.

You were perfect! You were funny, good looking and great for the audience! The perfect clown to replace Fizzarolli!

Mammon immediately made plushies, cereal, service bots (you choose what kind of service), hell, even a body pillow of ya!

Phone cases... Halloween costumes for kids... Lamps... Everything!

You became a star!

But like every star, you were a victim of the internet effect of the rule too

For some unknown reason, people shipped you and Mammon

No one knew why, but when you opened your phone, on Envybrl (Tumblr), on Sintter (Twitter or X), there were fanart of you and Mammon

All kind of Fanart! (I know I don't do NSFW, but when I say any kind, I mean any kind)

Mammon saw it too, a lot of it too

"What is that? Wh- why are we hugging in this one?"

He says, pointing at his phone, looking at a fanart of him and you cuddling

"i don't know, sir... The internet scares me"

"Ye..."

Mammon didn't understand why. When Fizzarolli was there no one made these things, but with you it was different

The more Mammon watched, the more he realized how beautiful you looked, and how he liked these fanarts

Mammon started to like every post and imagine these things were true...

Every day, you find a new gift at your door from an unknown person, even if it wasn't that unknown because the wrapping was green black and yellow

One day though, Mammon decides to Rizz you up, because obviously he won't do it normally

"Sir, you wanted me here?"

You said after being called in his office, only to find Mammon in his special valentine outfit (It's just the old one but pink and with hearts)

"Hey, Are you a Wi-Fi signal? Because I’m feeling a strong connection"

That was horrible, adorable, but horrible

"Sir... What?"

"oh, shit uh... Well, I'm out of lines"

"What is happening?"

"Well, I never thought that would've happened, since you're a lower class and shit- but, I found myself liking these fan arts mentally unstable people post of us.."

"Oh!"

You were stunned. Mammon. THE Mammon... Likes you?"

"Well... If I'm gonna be honest... I also found myself liking some of those posts..."

Mammon didn't realise at first and looks at you confused (Idiot)

"I like you too"

Just after you tell him he realises. Mammon smiles widely and hugs you with his four arms, so tightly you couldn't breath

"oh, you're a bloody legend, Y/N!"

"Eh... The internet is really a magical place..."

#i love him #he's so stupid #hb mammon #helluva mammon #helluva boss #helluva boss mammon #helluva boss x reader #mammon x reader hb #mammon x reader #mammon x reader helluva boss #helluva boss mammon x reader #vivziepop #oneshot #mammon helluva boss #gn y/n #hellaverse

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oncasette · 1 year

Text

𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗖𝗔𝗡 𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗘 𝗠𝗬 𝗜𝗦𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

KINKTOBER ACT I, ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: 3.1k

“Your fucking muse? You ask. You shove the top photo directly in his face. It’s a picture of you in your underwear as seen through your bedroom window, hands in the process of unhooking your bra.

“What can I say, baby. I told you I’d thought about this for a long time.”

or the one where ethan saves you from a creep after you lock yourself out of your dorm. or so you think.

warnings: not beta’d, smut, stalking, unprotected sex, dub-con, unsolicited pictures

masterlist | taglist | kinktober

Ethan hadn’t noticed you. At first. You’d had at least one class together every semester since freshman year, being in the same major and all, and yet it's taken him until now to take note of you. True, crude, unfiltered, awareness.

Sure, he’d known about you, the same way he knew about all the other girls on campus. He could match a face to a name and hold a casual conversation with you without feeling the need to ask the same three questions that always seem to be on the tip of everyone’s tongue.

But now. Now, he knows you. He knows how you shift in your seat when you get called on to answer a question, despite the fact that you’d raised your hand in the first place, the lavender and mint of your shampoo that he could easily catch a whiff of if he leaned forward in his seat just ever so slightly, the way your skin prickles with goosebumps when you change into your pajamas after a shower–you should really learn to close your blinds, living on the second floor of your dorm complex and all.

Your front door clicks shut before you think to check your pockets for your ID.

“Shit,” you mumble as you jiggle the locked door handle. The only time you ever took it out of the pocket in your phone case was when you were trying to order something from the bookstore online and needed your student ID number, and, of course, you’d forgotten to stuff it back into the damn thing when you’d finished.

“Locked out?” says a barely cognisant male voice from behind you.

“Sorry?” you spit, spinning around in a huff in the wake of your disappointment.

“Did you lock yourself out?” he asks again with a stifled laugh under his tone. You barely recognize the boy, only having stumbled past him once or twice in your haste to get back to your dorm to study. Figures that he’d end up being just across the hall from you. And much cuter up close.

“Yeah, yeah,” you sputter, your immediate anger diffusing into slight annoyance. “Thought my ID was in my wallet, and as soon as I went to double check… you know.”

“Oh, yeah. Sucks when that happens,” he says. “‘S your roommate out?”

The hair on the back of your neck stands up and you have to remind yourself he’s just being polite.

“She’s got class,” you swallow. He nods. You feel the need to elaborate. “O Chem.”

“You’ve got yourself a smarty pants on your hands, huh.” He steps closer and your breath hitches at the back of your throat. “Bet you’re smarter though.”

His mouth quirks as he boxes you in, back nearly pressed to the door of your room. “Oh, uh,” a dry chuckle. “I don’t know about that, she’s a pharmacy major and everything and all I do all day is learn about finances and the economy, so.”

Your neighbor had lost his sweet-boy charm in the few feet he’d breached, his jaw sharper and eyes darker in the fluorescence.

“I’ve really gotta get going-”

“Without your key?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m meeting someone just downstairs and I can always just text my roommate to let me in later-” he cuts you off again.

“I’m sure they can wait for a couple minutes,” he says. His aftershave burns your nostrils.

“Look, I’m already running late-”

A voice you don’t recognize calls your name from down the hall. Your head snaps, alerted to the sound. Squinting your eyes, you try to identify your anonymous hero.

“Hey,” the curly haired boy says as he approaches the two of you. “Are you ready to go yet? I tried texting when I got here, but I never got a response.”

“This is the friend you were waiting on?” the blond guy asks. He pulls his shoulders back, gaining back the inch he’d lost when he’d cornered you in.

“Ethan,” the new boy sticks his hand out to shake the other guy’s hand, only to be met with a scoff as he shoves his hands into his pockets.

“Didn’t mention you were meeting up with your boyfriend,” he sneers.

“First date,” you choke out with a dry throat, hoping that the notion of another guy in the picture would get him to leave you alone, and hating the fact that it was probably going to work. Ethan slides closer to you and you can feel your hands start to shake as the guy shakes his head in disappointment.

“Whatever, man,” he says. He turns and scans into his room, leaving you to exhale a breath you’d been holding in tight.

“He was interesting,” Ethan says, curls bouncing as spins to face you.

Humming, you draw your lips together in a tight line. You watch as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other as you thumb the wallet on the back of your phone case, subconsciously counting the cards there only to remember why you’d been stuck out in the hall in the first place.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” he asks.

“Well,” you start. “I was gonna go get some dinner, but with my ID being held hostage in my room…”

Ethan clears his throat before saying, “I, uh- I live on the next floor up if you wanted to hang out in my room until your roommate gets back.”

You’d think after the last guy had tried getting you into his place.

“Yeah, you know what, sure. That’d be nice,” you shrug, offering him a tight lipped smile before he led you toward the open spiral stairwell in the complex that led to all of the floors. As the two of you make your short journey up the flight of stairs, Ethan can’t help but to ramble on about how he’d stumbled upon your predicament for the four minutes it takes to climb the stairs.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, swear to god, but he was just being so creepy, you know. I could hear him growling from the stairs,” he says once you reach the third floor.

“No, I’m totally glad you were eavesdropping,” you laugh. Ethan holds his phone up to the door, unlocking it with the ID shoved into his wallet before holding it open for you to enter before him.

“Chad’s at the Pike party right now, so make yourself comfortable wherever,” he says as he shrugs his zip-up off to toss over his desk chair leaving him in a black t-shirt hugging his biceps in a way that has you swallowing saliva.

“Chad?” you ask.

“My roommate.”

“Ah,” you hum, settling yourself in the middle of the room before Ethan pipes up again.

“The left bed’s mine if you want to sit,” he offers. “Do you want something to drink?”

He’s got a plaid bedspread and probably navy sheets, but you climb up to sit on it nonetheless.

“Sure, what you got?”

He lists off the few sodas they have, the case of Busch, and the single already opened bottle of water that’d been in there since they’d moved in.

“I’ve got a case of seltzer in the fridge under my bed, too, if you want that,” he winces at his options.

It’s a Friday night, what have you got to lose. “I’ll take a seltzer.”

You try to ignore the way the hair on the back of your neck stands up as he moves closer, kneeling beside the bed to dig in the mini fridge stashed there. He comes back up with two cans in hand, extending one out for you to take from him. The can seems to condensate in the heat of your hand as soon as you grab it.

Before you have a chance to pop the tab, Ethan climbs in beside you leaving a little less than a foot of distance between the two of you despite his twin being an XL. His knee bends until it knocks against yours with a soft sorry mumbled out but no attempt to move it. He opens his drink and haphazardly taps the top of it against your own unopened can with a, “Cheers.”

“To?”

“Not being around that creep anymore?” he offers.

Nodding, you open the can and tap it back against his, “Fucking cheers.”

Taking a sip, you wince. Your body had not been prepared for alcohol, and whatever seltzer he had sure tasted like a hell of a lot of it. It’s quiet for a while, the start of various questions and conversations settling on the tip of your tongue as try to quell the awkward silence that’s overtaken you. Ethan’s familiar in a way you’re not entirely sure how to grasp. Something about his presence has the back of your brain buzzing. When the can in your hand is nearly empty, you manage to get words out of your mouth.

“Thanks for the help and everything, and really I mean, thank you, but how the fuck do you know me?” you finally settle on. “I mean you knew my name before you even came over and I just… you know?”

“We have stats together,” he says, stuttering and quirking the end of the statement into more a question than a declaration. Your brain seems to stutter for a second, trying and failing to place him. Until.

“Right! Right, oh my god! You’re the cute guy that sits behind me,” you say seconds before slapping a hand over your mouth.

“Cute?” he asks.

“Unfortunately, very.”

“What’s so unfortunate about my cuteness?” His eyes grow hazier, more lidded. He shifts closer forcing your breath to hitch in the back of your throat. Tipping back the last of your drink, you crush the can out of habit and set it onto his nightstand. The already small counter space is cluttered with various trinkets and electronics before you can find a space to set your drink down. The polaroid camera catches your eye.

“You have a polaroid?” you ask, leaning over further to snatch it off the edge and hold it up to your eye. He offers you a short hum in response. “What do you take pictures of?”

“I’ve got a specific muse,” he replies.

“Care to share?” you ask as you lower the camera from your face only to find him much closer than you expected him to be. Closer than he had been just a moment ago, close enough to smell the cologne stuck to his shirt and see the faded pink of a scar against his jaw. He shakes his head slowly as he removes the camera from your limp fingers and places it back on the nightstand, tossing his own empty can onto the floor beside the bed. The way he leans forward has you leaning back. He leads you to drop your head back onto his pillow and your legs shift until you’re entirely situated beneath him. There’s still space between you, a couple inches at best, as his hands find solace beside your shoulders.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispers and you feel your face heat up in response.

“Thank you,” you reply, tongue dry. What was in the air tonight? You’d just been relieved from one guy trying to drag you into his bed only to be pushed into another. Still, with the way your heart was racing, you weren’t sure this situation was entirely the same.

“You’re welcome,” he sighs. You can feel the way his hand twitches and flexes at your side.

You’re not sure who makes the first move after that. One moment you’re laying there, noses nearly touching as his breath fans over your face, and the next his lips are on yours and his tongue is in your mouth. The hand that had been fluttering at your side now pressed hard into your waist, thumb pushing up the fabric of your top until it met bare skin.

His name is hazy in your head. You barely conjure it up, having to filter through a couple variations of Edward and Eric and Elliot before you manage out a weak gasp of, “Ethan” against his lips.

His hand continues to push up until your shirt has been bunched up at your chest. He pulled back just enough to be able to look at his handiwork. Your heaved as the edges of his fingers worked up under the wire of your bra. The chill of his hand left goosebumps in its wake.

Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion as he lifts you just enough to get your shirt up over your head and to unclasp the back of your bra, leaving you bare beneath him. Not for long, though, as he sits up fully and reaches up to tug his own shirt over his head seconds after he’s got yours tossed down to the floor.

“God, you have no idea how much I’ve thought about this,” he groans, palms flat against your ribs.

“You think about me?” you ask, head quirked to the side as you try not to trace his abs with your tongue. Who knew the cute nerd in your stats class had all of this going on for him.

“All the fucking time,” he says. It’s a comment that should have you running for the hills, logically, coming from a guy you barely know. A guy you don’t know. But he’s already got you half-dressed and in his bed and you can’t bring yourself to pull away.

You hook your fingers into the hem of his sweats only for him to cover them with his own as you tug them down his legs. You do your best not to gape at the size of him. God, you think, is there any part of him you don’t want to lick? It takes him a second of shuffling and kicking, but as soon as his pants hit the floor his hands are back on you.

“Condom?” you gasp. His right hand trails down your chest, your stomach, and you think he’s going to stop at the band of your leggings, but it keeps going until you can feel him cupping against your clothed pussy. He nods absentmindedly. Your hips jump as soon as his thumb presses into your clit. Even with the dull pressure, it’s enough to send a shiver up your spine.

“Condom, Ethan, please,” you whine.

“Fuck,” he says as he pulls himself from his daze. “You don’t want me to…”

“No, please,” you whimper. “Want you.”

He throws open the drawer in his nightstand, leaving the contents open as he grabs an unopened box. The box tears–practically in half–and the three rolls land on your stomach.

“Do you want me to get that for you?” you ask with a giggle.

“No, fuck, no. I got it,” he grumbles, tearing a single condom off and pushing the rest onto the pile of clothes you’d conjured together.

“You sure?” His hands are shaking as he finally rips open the package, but they seem to steady once he’s got it rolled down onto his cock.

As soon as he’s got it on, though, he’s ripping your leggings down your legs. His thumb finds your clit again, barely ghosting over it in slow, tight circles as his free hand lines his dick up with your slit.

“Christ, you’re tight,” he groans, just barely notching the head. He pushes in slowly, jaw clenched, head dropped against your shoulder until he’s bottomed out. You nearly sob when you feel his pelvis press against yours. You don’t think you’ve ever felt this full in your life. You’re a little surprised he hadn’t ripped you in half, if you’re being honest with yourself.

He bites down on your shoulder as you feel his hips begin to pull back.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby, fuck,” he says. Where his thumb had stalled movement–not that you’d been able to really notice–it picks back up again, harder this time. Your eyes roll back in your head as Ethan’s mumblings pick up. So pretty, so perfect, better than I had imagined.

He’s already pulsing inside of you, twitching against your walls as he begins to pick up speed. His teeth nip at the sides of your neck, likely leaving marks you’ll have a hell of a time explaining to your roommate later, and his tongue laves at your pulse point.

Heat begins to build in your belly. It’s faster than you expected, a symptom of the alcohol, you think.

“Ethan,” you whimper.

“Yeah, baby?” he asks, eyes screwed tight as his pace begins to stutter.

“I’m so close.”

“Already? ‘Ve just started with you,” he sighs as if he wasn’t about to break skin on your neck.

“Please, please, I’m so close,” you beg.

“Oh, god,” he seethes. “I’m gonna cum.”

You bring a hand up to brush his curls away from his forehead and a bead of sweat drips down the side of his face.

“I want you to cum first,” he says. “Before I- before I do.”

With the way he’s working, you don’t think you’ve got much of a choice. Nodding, you bring your hand down to rest at the back of his neck, tugging his face down so that your lips met. You don’t even have time to warn him before you’re clamping down on him, pussy fluttering as your orgasm washes over you and leaves you hazy. Ethan’s hips stall at one final push in and you can feel the heat of his cum through the latex.

He pulls back, pressing one brief final peck to your lips before he leans back enough to remove his softening cock from you, the both of you wincing as he does so. He mumbles a soft, “I know” as he goes, rolling the condom off and tying the end to toss it in the trashcan beside the nightstand.

With an elongated sigh, he drops himself onto the bed beside you leaving you to shiver in the new chill hitting your bare skin.

You’re not even trying to snoop as you look around at his nightstand, eyes naturally gliding over the still open drawer of junk when the stack of pictures shoved in the corner catch your eye. It takes a second to really see what it is as the polaroids are covered in a thick translucent goop, but you can’t help but pick them up when it clicks in your brain.

“What the fuck are these?” you gasp, holding them up enough for Ethan to look at them.

“What?” he asks, still loopy from his orgasm.

“Your fucking muse? You ask. You shove the top photo directly in his face. It’s a picture of you in your underwear as seen through your bedroom window, hands in the process of unhooking your bra.

“What can I say, baby. I told you I’d thought about this for a long time.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream #scream 6 #jack champion #jack champion x reader #ethan landry smut #jack champion smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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salaciousdoll · 1 year

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꒷︶ ̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿ The Salacious Exploits ‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ︶꒷

•┈୨Chapter II୧┈•

•┈୨please be advised to the warning before continuing୧┈•: Hyperfeminine!reader, Bimbo!/ditzy!reader, Fem reader, smut, angst, fluff, laid back professor Gojo, Gojo being Gojo( I think), Gojo is a bit ooc when it comes to him being a perv, reader’s second day goes alright, geto pisses reader off and he liked it, Toji and Shiu are gym buddies, you and Eren talk all night on the phone, volleyball tryouts, reader owns her own volleyball, basically you are a pro at volleyball but not at running or certain positions( Libero), DARK CONTENT, taboo!, teacher x student relationship, this is not all glorified, there will be the downsides that come later, reader has daddy and mommy issues, daddy’s is more severe, self indulgent, reader is spoiled down, smut, Erwin smith is the first man you fuck, big and heavy dick Erwin, condom use because duh it’s the first official fuck, wall fucking, fucking on a sink, you roll the condom on his dick with your mouth, pet names( little dove, angelic whore, slut, pretty girl, etc.), degradation/praise, cervix kissing( gently but it can still hurt), reader is hyper sexual, History professor!Erwin, Jean meet you but doesn’t know your the new girl, bartender!jean, Eren is growing fond of you and so are Mikasa, Armin, and Maki, daddy kink is seen here once, dirty talking Erwin, coach! Onyankopon, Coach!Geto, lemme know if I missed anything,

ﾟ•┈୨ Song for this Chapter୧┈•ﾟ｡: Party Girls- Victoria Monet

ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟNote from salaciousdoll: this is the second chapter of this series and I’m so excited for you all to read it. I’m gonna be starting my kinktober fics now, so this won’t be a weekly update, just until I at least make it to the end of the month fic. Anyways, HAPPY KINKTOBER BABIES🫶🏾

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Previously on Salacious Exploits….

Your voice came out calm and collected, “ You’re very welcome, sir. Have a nice day.” You smiled prior to power walking out of the classroom and building. You didn’t know who he was getting head from and you should’ve had a different reaction but this school looked fishy as soon as you stepped on the lawn and plus the false advertisement the website has is enough to make anyone turn it down but you and your mother were too dumb and naive to realize, your mother just wanted you near her. Though you couldn’t see Mr.Kamo face properly, yet you knew he was fine just from his moans and voice. On your way to your car to go home, you noticed a small sticker with a phone number on it and Eren’s name on top of it. You were surprised to see it because when the hell did he have time to do this. You most likely wasn’t paying attention when he did it because you were too busy looking around the school when you two walked to your first, well second class today. You did not like calling men first but you’ll excuse this because you had a feeling you were going to love that call. Just like you are going to love this school.

Waking up with Eren snores in your ear on the phone was funny and relaxing. You would’ve thought he would’ve hung up the phone after you fell asleep, yet he didn’t. You called him first and from that point on you two hit it off. You two talked about the school, his friends he’s going to introduce you to at the party someone’s throwing at the bar down the street from the campus today. You yawned and got out of bed walking to the shower to freshen up for classes today. You only had two classes today, psychology and physiology. Two classes you didn’t want to take but they were the last options when you signed up for classes online.

After showering and getting ready, you grabbed your supplies you needed for today and your Telfar Ballerina shopping bag with a lot of the materials you need for school and practice, slipping your shades on afterwards. Eren hung up the phone when you were taking a shower and you were partially glad for it because you didn’t want to talk to anyone before class. You had on a decent outfit today— tied-up pink cardigan over a black jumpsuit that showed off your hips, love handles, or hip dips with pink-satin miu miu ballerina shoes and black leg warmers.

You didn’t feel like doing anything special except trying out for volleyball, a sport you’ve been dedicated to since you were younger. It’s a pro and con sport for you because the pro is being the best on your team but the con is being the biggest in weight on your team. It's contradictory really. Now you get to see try out for volleyball for this college, maybe you’ll be able to face your old teammates from your old college. But first, you have to get through your classes first because right after your second class, it’s gonna be 30 minutes until tryouts.

Heading into the classroom, you spot Eren sitting with a boy with freckles and a girl next to him with dark green hair in a bob. She favored someone you met already and just couldn’t put it to mind especially with the way Eren was close-lip smiling at you. He was not paying attention to anything or anyone talking to him— all he could focus on is you. He was slowly catching feelings for you and he didn’t mind it one bit at how fast you captured his attention especially after getting over his break up with Mikasa.

You waved at him and took the seat he pointed to in the row in front of him. You were so glad that he got a seat near the end of the row because you didn’t feel like squeezing past people. Once you sat down, eren leaned down to whisper in your ear, “ had a great time last night on the phone, we should do it again sometime. You know… to get to know each other more.” You turned around to see him scratching the back of his head, almost like you made him shy or anxious.

You smirked at his actions, “ Next time, you call me first. A lady should never have to call a gentleman first.” Your teasing just made him raise his hand to cover his face from letting his friend see his blushing cheeks and nose. You wondered if he knew the tip of his ears were red as well.

Eren didn’t know what your type was and you honestly felt a little bad for him, but a little part of you hoped this was a puppy type crush and that’s it. What you really wanted was an older man, kinda like your professor that just walked in practically yelling good morning. You wondered how a man like him had this much energy as you eyed him with a tip of your pink pen in your mouth. His glasses were now clear prescription glasses and he looked even more gorgeous than before. You wanted to jump his bones right here.

Your thoughts were soon interrupted by professor Gojo clapping his hands and then motioning to the projector, “ You should already know what class you are taking—” Gojo then opened his arms, making his body into a T, “ But I’m gonna tell you anyway, Welcome to Psychology 112. For today, we will be learning about each other and reading the syllabus together. Originally, the syllabus was supposed to be your homework, but skip that! Don’t wanna give you homework on the first day, wouldn’t wanna overbear you on your first day like short stack Levi or for those who have Mr.Nanami, am I right?”

He was the first professor you’ve seen since yesterday that made the student laugh. You were surprised you let out a little laugh at his joke. You had a feeling you and Professor Gojo would get along just fine.

During his class, Eren couldn’t focus, he only paid attention when you spoke about yourself— starting with your name, “ Um, a little bit about me is that I like wearing high fashion brand clothing, I’m rich, and pretty.” Some of the girls and guys smacked their lips or let out loud sighs and some snickered to themselves.

Gojo stared at you with intensity before smiling to himself, “ anything else, miss { reader’s last name}. What made you decide to take my class?”

You mentally rolled your eyes at this question because you could either lie or tell the truth. You did what you did best, “ I was late when registering for classes and this was one of the last classes I had to choose but luckily I like learning about different behaviors and how it affects the mentality, ya’ know.” You lied and told the truth all in one. You thought nobody would notice, but Gojo did. Luckily, he let it pass by smirking at you and nodding his head. Once he went to the next person, you let out a relieved breath out of your mouth. Eren chuckled with Marco at your exaggerated action.

Marco extended his hand over your shoulder, “ sorry I couldn’t properly introduce myself. My name is Marco Boldt, as you may know from the previous introduction.” He let out a cute chuckle before speaking again, “ It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You turned to shake his hand as the next person spoke about their favorite hobbies and such.

“ Nice to meet you as well. Who’s the girl beside you Eren?” You eyed her up and down slowly and , to her, seductively.

She stuck out her hand like she was forced to stick it out, “ The girl next to him name is Mai, you would’ve known that if you paid attention, airhead.”

You wanted to curse her out but decided against it because maybe she was just a hard ass on purpose. Like she got a point to prove but to whom? You’ll never know especially when Gojo yelled out your name and to be quiet afterwards.

Smacking your lips was the first and only option you had as a reaction because it wasn’t even you that was speaking. You have been getting into trouble with the professors at this school too much already. It’s already getting on your nerves. You thought he was the least strict teacher here— you guessed wrong then. Only you didn’t guess wrong, he just wanted to fuck with you because he felt like it and he wanted to see how your name rolls off his tongue since it’s different than most people at this school. After everyone introduced themselves, you all read the syllabus and asked him questions about the syllabus.

Class wrapped up after that and when you walked past Gojo’s desk with Eren’s arm around your shoulder, scratched something inside of Gojo’s Brain and he didn’t like it. He had to know if you two were dating, not like that’s gonna stop him, but he didn’t need an hot head like Eren to fuck up his plan. A hot head that’s quick to spread rumors due to his indifferences with this school and much more. The only way he knows that is because he knew every last one of his students due to how little the social life here is at school. The school may be big, but the acceptance rates were lower than hell. Plus, he’s heard from the past professors that Eren is the star boy of the school.

“ Because of his fucking fath-”, Gojo says, before getting interrupted by a little laugh. He looked up and locked eyes with you standing in front of him with your books to your chest. You looked so fucking beautiful to him.

“ Mumbling to yourself Mr. Gojo, maybe psychology is the right major to teach for you.”, You say, laughing but stopping once you seen he wasn’t laughing just staring at you. You then realized what you said was inappropriate and hurried to back track until he held up a hand.

You waited for him to yell or give you the stern talk, but he just laughed with his head back, really loudly too. “ You’re a jokester, gotta watch out for you even more. What did you come to talk to me about? Any questions about the syllabus that you could’ve asked during class.” You squint your eyes at the last part prior to staring at him in silence.

He tilted his head and removed his glasses from his face to sit on the desk. When he did that, you had the urge to grab his face and kiss him, but you fought your urge and answered his question, “ Came to talk to you about how much homework we’re having for this class. Is it a lot? And how many essays do we have to do?”

Gojo smiled at you, “ It's not a lot of essays, only four for midterm and finals. There’s gonna be two chapters for you to read each day after today. Think of today as a free pass from homework.” He almost wanted to laugh at your expressions when he said 4 essays and two chapters.

You smiled at him and said your thanks, walking away afterwards. You had your last class of the day in 5 mins and it takes you three minutes to walk to the class so you’ll be on time. Meanwhile, back in the classroom, satoru sat there with your flavor perfume lingering in his classroom, well in the space by his desk.

Walking to Mr.Geto class was fun when you had Armin and his friends walking with you. His friends meaning Connie, Sasha, Yuuta,Maki, and Mikasa walking with you. You passed Mai and put two and two together when you took one good glance at Maki. They either had to be sisters or cousins. Crazy thing about it, is that you and Armin arrived 2 minutes early and were two of the three people already there.

There was another boy there with a high ponytail and on his lower cheek, close to his chin. He looked so quiet and you didn’t want to disrupt it so you sat next to Armin, who was sitting below the boy. You hope class goes by fast because then all you have to do is get ready for try-outs.

Soon, students started to fill out the classroom and in between the last two students, a tall man with his hair in a top bun— a piece hanging in the front of his head, black suit nicely tailored and decked, and several rings wrapped around about two fingers on each hand. You finally realized, after a long time of staring, that this was the man you locked eyes with when you were heading to Mr. Kamo class. He was coming from the gym and looked so hot, now he looks hotter.

“ Goodmorning class, today we’re going to read over the syllabus and I’ll go over the materials you need in order to pass this class. After that, I’ll let you all go to enjoy the rest of your day. Oh, I almost forgot, those of you know me already, some of you..”, Getos said walking back and forth until he locked eyes with you again. “ Don’t. So I’ll introduce myself, my name is Suguru Geto, you may not call me by that name, only my last, Professor Geto.”

He’s a little sassy with his introduction and you didn’t mind one bit in fact it made him hotter. He began plugging up his laptop for the projector while Armin spoke to a guy next to him. He was a handsome guy and you never saw him around the school before. Armin asked you for a pencil and you fetched your pencil case for a pencil. He laughed once he saw the color of the pencil, “ How did I know this would be the color of your pencils as well?”

You laughed and was about to respond until Mr.Geto cleared his throat, “ Okay, everyone, I got everything situated so let’s start? Yeah.” You did not know why but when he said yeah it was so sexy. You hated how easily you got turned on when it comes to older men. You suddenly got into your bubble of thoughts watching the way his arms flexed whenever he reached to point a finger at people or to point at the bullet point on the board. He was a beauty indeed and you knew it would take a lot to seduce him since he seemed all business at the moment. His dark eyes zoom in on you, spacing out with your legs crossed and your pencil eraser in your mouth, “ Miss {reader’s last name}, tell me what’s the fifth rule when it comes to turning in my essays?”

You hated being in the spotlight of answering questions, it’s annoying as hell and you disliked anyone who did it to you, “ I don’t know because I wasn’t paying attention, sorry for not paying attention, won’t happen again.” You didn’t want to give him attitude, so you just said sorry and kept silent the rest of the class. He didn’t like that you were as silent as a church mouse. He hated it in fact because when he wanted to call on you during class he felt your stone glare all over his PowerPoint and him. He could tell you were pissed but why were you so cute pissed off. He had to tell Satoru since he was speaking about you nonstop to him.

After some minutes, class was finally over and you were ready to get up out of there, in fact you were the first one to leave and he took note of that. He actually managed to piss you off on the first day and it was over something dumb. Not that he should care though, you’re the student and he’s the professor. But hey was he still thinking about you while waving bye to the rest of his students.

You, on the other hand, decided to transfer your anger onto the volleyball in tryouts. You had to walk across the street to the gym which got your blood pumping with adrenaline. So when you walked in the locker room, you placed your bag on the bench. Annie came in and sat her bag down next to you— changing her clothes right there. You gawked at her changing in front of you so boldly when there’s stalls in here. Mikasa, Maki, a girl with blue hair came in with them speaking loudly compared to the other two. Annie felt your eyes on her and turned to you with a deadpan expression on her face, “ What? Am I not allowed to change in front of you?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “ You could do whatever you want, I’m just gonna go change in the stall. No hard feelings babes.” She rolled her eyes at the nickname as she watched you walk off, waving to Maki and Mikasa.

You put on your attire for tryouts and made your way out the stall with your bag on your shoulder. You were making sure your knee pads were on properly, when a hand suddenly came out in front of you. Following the hand with your eyes, you smiled at her before hearing her speak, “ Why not have you apart of our competition, whoever gets the most serves and sets to the count of ten, wins and the winner gets to get free drinks from the losers for tonight’s back to school party at the bar, you’re in?” The blue haired girl was in front of you proposing a deal you couldn’t refuse if you wanted to because you loved competition. It makes things fun.

So you shook her hand while batting your eyelashes up at her, “ Deal. Be prepared to buy my drinks ladies.” You yelled out the last sentence as you made your way past them. Maki laughed, “ You’re confident. I like that.”

Mikasa shook her head, “ No, she’s delusional, especially if she thinks I’m losing.”

“ But you’re not winning, that’s for sure. So let her be delusional, they’ll only make it more fun when I win.”, Annie said, bandaging up her elbows while having a stare off with Mikasa.

Miwa smiled at her friends competing with each other because you’ve already walked out to the gym already whilst these three were still talking to each other. She loved volleyball season for a reason. This was one of them. It was great to be back. She just wished Mai was here as well— sadly she’ll just come late as always.

While the four of them were walking out the bathroom, you were already in the gym with the other girls that’s trying out for volleyball. The gym was huge enough for you all to have tryouts with the boys volleyball team. They were so tall and handsome, one guy stood out to you. He had a mullet and a beard that suited his face just right. He was working on his overhand serves just by swinging his arm up and down for right now. Armin was beside him with a guy with a bowl cut. You guess he was stuck in the 80s and 90s. Next to the bowl cut guy was the boy you met before, Yuuta.

On the benches against the wall, you see Eren, Reiner, Todo, Connie, Sasha, another girl with a blonde bob, a girl with two black pigtails and a girl with two blonde pigtails next to her, she could be mistaken for a little kid, honestly. Seems like some teachers are speaking with both coaches of the teams on the sideline.

I guess volleyball is an important sport at this school after all. You turn to see Mai beside you with an arm around your shoulder, “ Hey, my little pinky pie, ready to buy me a drink? I mean, you can make up for not listening to my introduction yesterday, that really hurt me, ya know?”

The blue haired girl came up on the other side of you, “ Mai, leave her alone. Can’t believe you made it on time.” She then turns to you with a pretty smile, “ I forgot to introduce myself, I’m Miwa Kasumi, nice to meet you. Don’t worry, I already know your name— so you don’t have to tell me.” You smiled at her and nodded your head prior to focusing back on pumping your pink and white volleyball full of air with their little air pumper.

You bounced it against the floor and watched it fly up, catching it afterwards. You smiled over at the girls that watched you, some of their eyes weren’t on what you were doing, rather than what’s behind you. Your ass looked so good in them spandex and if some of them weren’t straight you would’ve been wrapped around their fingers.

After a while, a tall black man with a clean cut bald fade and pretty smile blew the whistle and yelled out “ Huddle around, Girls.”

You all gathered around him with some of the gym balls and your own balls. “ Alright, so today Hange, who is the co-coach, is out for today because of their own business matters, so you’re only having me with you today.” He looked at each of you before speaking again, “ Today is about determining if you’re skillful enough to join this team. Here at Maria Kaizen, we take sports seriously just like academics. Sports are a huge thing in this city so you should already know that. So first, you’re gonna warm up, so give me about five laps around the track outside that door over there, come back in and get a drink of water— meet me back here afterwards, understand?”

You hated running laps so you took your time running while the rest of them didn’t take their time. Maki and Mikasa were toe to toe with each other until Mikasa got another boost of energy from nowhere and finished her 5 laps before Maki. After that the rest of the team followed pursuit but you were still on the 4 lap and wasn’t gonna speed up anymore because you were beginning to breathe hard. Another chubby girl and a skinny girl were running after you, both of them kept encouraging you to keep going and you hated it. You weren’t mean, it’s just it’s embarrassing when people run with you or encourage you to finish especially when you’re at the freaking finish line. Nevertheless, you still thank them— sharing high fives as well.

Once you finally finished your lap, you headed into the gym room and surprisingly didn’t see any of the other girls there, but luckily you spotted them standing outside the gym drinking water. You headed that way not noticing multiple eyes on you since you stepped back into the gym. Eren spotted you and so did Armin, Armin jogged to you first causing Eren to scowl at him— he hid it well when everyone looked at him trying to basically dive down the bleachers.

“ Hey, didn’t know you were trying out for volleyball, hope you make it, so I could go against you during practice.”, Armin says with a polite smile. You smiled at him and spoke to him, “ can’t wait for you to lose those practice games.”

With that, you walked off with him watching you walk away, a small smile adorning his face. Meanwhile, you were the last one to get water and was thankful for it because you almost drink the entire fountain until you heard a deep voice speak, “ Save some for the fishes sweetheart.”

“ Aww come on, girl must be tired after running 5 laps, ease up on her Shiu and besides we’re supposed to be going to the weight room so come on man.”, Another deep voice and the same voice you heard speak to you before. The security guard with black hair and green eyes. Another security guard was with him, he was so handsome, he had a compress shirt on with joggers to match with the green eye man.

You stared at them and they stared at you until the one with the green eyes spoke, “ Welcome to Maria Kaizen, I’m Toji Fushiguro and this is Shiu Kong, we’re the security guards here so you’ll be seeing us around a lot, see you around beautiful.” Shiu guy nodded his head at you and walked away, Fushiguro followed behind leaving you with rampant thoughts in your mind.

You finally snapped out of your thoughts when Maki came and got you for the beginning of tryouts. The first drill of tryouts was seeing if you could under serve and you got this. All of y’all had to serve your balls where the short gremlin of a teacher stood. You took a pretty good guess and knew he was probably filling in for Ms. Zoe. Maki served and it went over the net and nowhere near Levi, Mikasa served and it went over the next almost to where he stands, Mai served and it hit the net but still went over the net, that was a let serve, and Miwa served up a big hit making it go into the air, almost to the ceiling. She yelled an oops and sorry prior to running off behind Mai.

All throughout the rest of the team's serves, Levi had a mean scowl on his face and you could see that from where he stood or did you predict what he’ll look like. You laughed at your joke before it was your turn to serve. You bounced the ball on the floor once and positioned yourself on the line, holding the ball out and reeling your hand back before serving under. The ball almost hit Levi right in the face until he moved with a wide eyed stare at you. You hurry to yell sorry but Levi felt like that was intended since he did piss you off once, yet it wasn’t. Thing is, the speed of that ball was abnormal because usually he'd duck or dodge in a heartbeat, just then he barely moved in time. Miche was impressed watching on the sidelines if only Erwin was here instead of fucking someone on his desk right now then he would’ve seen this stunt.

Onyankopon was truly impressed so he had to see your overhand serve, so he had everyone do that next. Although this time, he asked Miche to stand there instead of Levi. Everyone overhand serves were good except for a few slip ups. Onyankopon made note of the five that slipped up. It was now your turn and he watched you carefully before looking around to find everyone looking at you. You’re gonna be a star if you make the team. A star right next to Maki and Mikasa.

Geto who was supposed to be coaching the boy’s volleyball team was watching you closely just like his co coach, Choso. Right now the boys were just serving non stop until he blew the whistle. Their tryouts were yesterday, so they were now just practicing. They watched as you angled your right arm in a 90 degree angle whilst your left arm was straight with the palm up. They both looked at each other, nodding their heads before looking over at onyankopon who nodded his head at them. They all knew that you knew what you were doing. You tossed the ball in the air and brought your arm up to smack it with so much force. Onyankopon took note of the way you stepped into the serve. It’s like you were a pro at this so he had no choice but to already think of recruiting you.

Now it was time to see if you can jump serve, set, and play the other positions well, especially the Libero position. And you played all of them astonishingly except for Libero. You hated that position so you didn’t even try and Onyankopon noticed that, which was a mistake on your part. He blew his whistle at the end of the tryouts, gathering you all around, “ Listen up ladies, I will let you all know if you made it at the next meeting, which is next week. This was a great tryout, probably the best tryouts I’ve ever seen over my years of coaching volleyball, if only coach Zoe was here to see what I saw in you ladies today. This is the conclusion of the tryouts and I will see you ladies soon. Now go shower and get to your next class or go home.” His voice was so smooth and deep, it drove you wild. He drove you wild already when you walked past him and smelt his cologne. You made note that it wasn't cheap cologne, so sexy to you.

You walked behind the girls to the locker room to freshen up. Your shower took a long time because you had to scrape off your sweat. You hated sweat sticking on your body. After washing your body, you dried off and got dressed. During the shower everyone said their see yous and goodbyes to you so you were the last one in the locker room getting dressed.

Once you finally got dressed in the other clothes you packed in your book bag you carried on your back, you walked out and almost screamed when you saw Mr.Ackerman standing with his back to the wall.

He looked unfazed at your screaming as he pushed himself off the wall stopping in front of you, “ Just for that little stunt you pulled, I’ll be giving you extra homework tomorrow.”

You scoffed and walked around him to walk off, “ It’s not even school hours for me and you’re getting on me. I didn’t even mean to do that honestly. So I will not be doing that extra work, see you tomorrow, Mr. Ackerman.” You hurried to walk away from that deranged little man and walked to your car in the parking lot. You would’ve stayed if he actually cared enough to keep you in his grasp longer.

After, you headed home while talking to Eren on the Bluetooth call. He just asked you about tryouts and gave you the address to the bar for tonight. You were excited to party because you needed it after this rough day. The only thought in your mind as you made your way home after ending the call with Eren is that your body will be sore tomorrow.

Arriving at the bar took about fifteen minutes, so it wasn’t that far from the campus but was far from your house. You were now freshly done up like a doll. You looked so sexy in your choice of an outfit. You did your makeup perfectly. It was like you were a doll and an Angel at the same time. Dollgelic really.

Once you stepped into the lively bar, it was packed from the opening of the door. Eren spotted you while his arm was around Mikasa, who was stately immensely at you with a twinkle in her eyes. You made it, she didn’t think you would’ve come to be honest, you don’t seem like a bar kinda girl. More like a club kinda girl in her mind.

They both greeted you with a hug, both hugging longer than usual. You all begin to walk over to the group of students and all around you were cheers and whoop whoops from seeing you. Yeah they were drunk already but I mean what can you expect when you showed up an hour later than the original time the party started. Rather show up fashionably late or won’t go at all.

“ Hey new girl, you gotta drink your first shot of the night since you’re late missy, by the way the names Floch, what’s yours?”, Floch asked drunkenly. You smiled and looked at Eren with squinted eyes of ‘this better not be poison’ eyes and he nodded his head as a gesture of answering your question or reassuring you.

You took the glass from his hand and smiled, “ {reader’s name}, nice to meet you.” You took the shot after you said your piece, scrunching up your face at the sour and strong taste in your mouth. Floch shouted a loud yeah with his fist in the air as your face turned back to your regular face. He liked you already.

Eren shook his head and headed over to where Armin was sitting. On the other hand, you were heading towards the direction of the bar, only jumping when you felt a hand tug your hand, “ What the fu-” you paused when you saw who it was, “ oh it’s just you, Hi Sasha.”

Sasha squealed and hugged you so tightly like she knew you all her life, “ Oh my.. you remember my name. I would’ve thought you forgot my name.”

You stared at her with a confused expression on your face. You grabbed Sasha's face between both of your hands, squeezing her cheeks together, “ How drunk or high are you because we saw each other today—this morning.” You turned back to the bartender staring straight at you; he was admiring you so when your eyes caught his, his eyes widened when you spoke to him, “ Give me what she had, on rocks please?”

The hazel eyes went back to its original size prior to him speaking over the loud chattering and music to you, “ Coming right up and just know you have put me to work longer than I expected darling, but I’ll let it slide just this once for a beautiful lady like you.” You eyed him and noticed that he had a mullet and it looked so good on him and him only.

You were about to speak again when Sasha patted your hand with hers, “ Ywor Still hwding on tew mehh.” Her words were more slurred than usual due to your now squeezing her cheeks together with your soft hands. You laughed and threw your arms down, “ So sorry, Sash. I’ll head to the bar on that side and I’ll meet you all when I get the drink you had.”

Sasha yelled out the drink and your eyes widened. You remember drinking that same drink in the past and got wasted off the second go, so you now understood why she was wasted. You watched her laugh all the way until she got to where Maki and the rest sat. Continuing on, you positioned yourself at the end of the bar with pretty mullet boy still in view of you. You needed to get laid and you didn’t want to fuck any of the students, too much feelings and drama come with that. You haven’t fucked since this summer with your old play toy at your old school. God, you missed your old school more than ever now because you would’ve been in a club or party on campus, not a damn bar, especially a bar on a Friday night.

You didn’t notice the two pairs of brown and blue eyes staring at you from where they sat conversing at the table two feet from you. If you did, you would’ve noticed how handsome both men are.

“ Erwin, do you know who she may be?”, Nile asked his best friend. Erwin eyebrows were scrunched together as they took in every frame of your body. You were truly someone he needed. He needed to feel your big thighs wrapped around his waist as he holsted you up against him, fucking into you nonstop. He was surprised at his thoughts and snapped himself out of them by turning to Nile, “ No I don’t know who she is. Maybe she’s new in town, maybe she’s the sister of my new student who didn’t show up in class on her first day.”

Nile eyed you along with him as you thanked Jean for the drink, occasionally watching you take small drinks from it as your eyes scanned the club. It’s like you were scouting for a fuck and what perfect opportunity for Erwin and Nile. They just had to see which one would get to you first. Nile snapped out of his thoughts and turned to Erwin, only to see him not there. He was next to you. Shit, he’s late again. Oh well, his soon to be divorced wife will have to do for now, just until he gets Erwin to share.

You were enjoying the last few minutes alone before you had to go back to your group of people you were partying with until an alluring presence sat next to you with a drink in his hand already. You trailed your eyes from his hand that had two rings on them up until you got to his pretty blue eyes. Blue eyes scared you but he pulled you in. He was a handsome pale man, an older one at that. He was one of your types and that’s all you needed— flashing your pretty smile at him.

Erwin close-lip smiled back at you, sticking out his hand after, “ Hello, pretty lady. My name is Erwin Smith and I couldn’t help but come over to talk to you. You’re new around here, right?”

You nodded your head with a short laugh following, “ Oh, gosh, how did you know? Do I really give off the vibe that I’m lost or something?” You got him at the tip of your finger now, you just had to get him wrapped around the base of the finger.

Erwin took a sip of his drink and brought all of his attention to you, “ Just never seen someone as beautiful as you around here and this town is very little.”

“ How little?”, you replied, wrapping your glossy lips around your black straw, seducing him without even touching him.

“ Like a grape size, little. Still didn’t catch your name, darling.”, Erwin says with a small smirk on his face.

You started to giggle a lot which means you were a tad bit tipsy, so you needed to get laid immediately. “ You smiled and blinked your eyelashes at him, “ My name is { your name}, sir. I thought I told you that, hmm must’ve slipped my mind because I was focused on how sexy you are.”

Erwin smiled at your words and he haven’t smiled like this in years. You made him smile within minutes of you two talking with each other. Yeah, he needs you. He just had one more question to ask you, “ excuse me for asking this question but did you happen to move here with your sister who, by the way, was supposed to be in my class by any chance?”

You almost cackled at yourself because how did you score three points in a matter of minutes. Points of wrapping an men around your finger tonight, scoring an older man to fuck, and if you’re lucky you hope it’s a men in a profession job, preferably a teacher. You noted that you missed your class and he thought you had an older sister and you were the older sister. So you kept up with the lie with a devious smile on your face, “ I’ll only answer that question if we go somewhere quiet, I got a place in mind, what do you say, mister Smith?”

His eyes widened when you finished your question, he never met a woman that knew what and how to get what she wants— he was intrigued. Persuaded. Seduced. Enchanted. So he took his drink down with one gulp and watched you finish your drink, not wasting one drop. You even looked sexy while drinking your drink. You were perfect for him. Everything he wanted.

Erwin stood up and fixed his suit prior to holding out his hand for you to take as he led you to the bathroom. You gladly took it with your purse in your other hand not noticing the pair of hazel eyes staring at you both with wide eyes. He shook his head and walked to his friends greeting them with an arm around Connie's shoulder. He was happy to see his friends but the linger of you and his professor was clouding the back of his mind.

Back to you and Erwin, you both walked inside the one stall bathroom in the middle of the girls and boys bathroom. With the click of a lock, he turned back to you with low bedroom eyes, eyes dark with lust and lust only. Fuck, he needed you badly, Blisteringly when you gave him the look. The look of inviting. The look of want and desire next to the want to be desired.

“ Do you want the answer to your questi-mmph.”, you were interrupted by the feeling of his smooth but chapped lips on yours lips. The feeling of his big hands on your cheeks was everything you wanted and needed, now you just need them around your neck. He held you with so much care for a one night stand of you to be.

Your lips moved against his in a fast pace kiss. The movements of your heads moved in opposite directions as you two started to sloppily kiss each other. Small little whimpers and groans were heard in the big bathroom with the sound of rock music in the back. Erwin broke the kiss to whisper a small, deep “ jump” and you did. Surprisingly he helped you up and walked you to the sink— sitting you on top of it, not caring if you broke it or not, after all his buddy owned the bar.

Erwin starts to trail sloppy and sensually kisses over your face and neck while groping your plush thighs in between his long, slender fingers, “ you’re so goddamn sexy, my little dove. Gonna fuck you so good.” Erwin undressed your bottom half as you undid his belt buckle. He continued kissing over your breast as he trailed his warm fingers up your thighs again. He stopped at your warm pussy with lace panties covering your pussy, “ please grant me access to you, my little dove. Let me fuck you like you never took any cock before. Just… please.”

Your eyes widened as you stared straight ahead as he kissed up and down your chest, he was desperate for you as you were desperate for him. You two needed each other, him more than you. Up for debate right there. You whispered a small, “ Yes, take me. Fuck me because this is the last time you’ll see me.” He hated how you already had your priorities set and straight. What a woman.

He almost tore open the top part of your outfit until you stopped him, “ No, don’t do that unless you plan on spending 2k on this outfit again. Come on old man, you should know the value of clothes and how hard it is to come by nowadays.” Erwin stopped and scoffed at you prior to licking around the shape of your diamond hello kitty necklace your ex rich boy toy brought you, “ This old man is going to take you on a ride for a moment, brace yourself.”

He ignored your statement about the clothes because you were displaying how much of a rich brat you were, his actual type in women. He hated how much his ex mounted that into him or did he just attract rich snobby girls. Who knows. Not like he wasn’t a rich man himself.

With his last statement, he noticed you holding up a condom. Chuckling in response, he mumbled against your skin while bringing out his own, which was a larger size condom than yours. “ Smart girl you are. Not smart enough to carry my size though.” Your eyes widened at the Trojan magnum size condom, his dick was that big. How was it gonna fit? You never took anything that big before. You were breathing hard and Erwin noticed so he kissed you again to ease you up, “ breathe, little dove. I’m not gonna hurt you, as a matter of fact, we can stop at any time.”

The deep swimming pool of lust in his eyes made you more than eager to take him because for some reason you felt he wasn’t lying. His fingers curled under the lining of your panties, pulling them down to your ankles after the help of your hips lifting up to drag them down there. The cold air hitting your warm slightly shaved pussy was enough to make you shiver against him. His hands were freshly manicured and clean so you let him strum his fingers along the opening of your wet pussy.

You whimpered and he chuckled, “ I got you, little dove.” With that, he rubbed your clit in a slow circular motion making you whimper behind your hand. Your clit was so sensitive, always will be. So when the right man knew how to play with it, you couldn’t help but to fold under his touch. Your purse lay in the sink and your phone was vibrating loudly due to Eren, Mikasa, or Maki calling you to see where you went. You felt a tiny bit bad for leaving them unnoticed but you’re occupied with the man of your fantasies right here and wasn’t gonna let this opportunity slip from your pretty fingers.

You snapped Erwin’s shirt open as you two made out sloppily with spit drooling down both of your mouth’s in want. He hurried and shrugged it off before getting back to playing with your puffy clit. One of his fingers pushed inside of you and you gasped at the feeling of his thick finger pumping into you, “ You’re so pretty gasping for me, wanna hear you moan for me now, little dove.” You held onto the sink for dear life, nails could’ve broken from how hard you were gripping the sink on the sides.

Erwin pushed another finger inside of you, earning a whimper and moan from you, “ Please… go fas-uhhh!” Your moans were the prettiest he’s heard since fucking his favorite student and now situationship since she graduated now. He wouldn’t exactly call them to be in a relationship but he proudly says they were in a situationship since she still had a boyfriend.

Erwin curled his finger and watched your reaction to his fingers and God were you beautiful, “ So damn beautiful taking my fingers, now do you want anything else? Tell me what more do you want, little dove? Wanna become my little slut? Wanna be my little whore? Or do you want to be my Angel?”

His words and his fingers twist and curling inside you were making you come undone soon and you didn’t want to cum that soon. “ Treat me like an angelic whore. Your angelic whore, Mister Smith.” He smirked and stopped his movements for a second— pulling his fingers out but it seems like they didn’t want to let him walk away. Once he finally got them out, he laughed and brought them to his mouth.

“ Shit. You taste so delicious, little girl. So damn delicious just like an angelic whore.”, Erwin groans into your ear as he moves to finish unzipping his pants, letting his cock spill over his dress pants. His pre cum was oozing down his hole. Your mouth watered at the sight of his jumping cock— curved to the right with a girth and length that put other men to shame, pink flush mushroom tip with two visible veins running down his cock.

You breathed out a sigh and unconsciously moved your hands to your clit to play with it, only noticing what you were about to do when he gently slapped your hand. He looked at you with a stern look, “ That’s my job, tsk tsk tsk, a girl who doesn’t listen isn’t acting very angelic is she?”

You hated that he was taunting you and right about it, so you nodded your head in response. He shook his head, passing you the condom, “ Go on and put it on like a good little girl. Let me fuck you until you learn how to become an Angel again.” You reached to grab his cock in your hand, trying to wrap your hands around the entire thing, yet you couldn’t with the little inch of space left to connect your thumb to your other four fingers. That’s how much girth he had. He was a monster.

He was heavy in your hand as you grabbed the condom with your hand, seductively looking into his eyes whilst biting into the condom to rip it open with your teeth. You weren’t about to be a bitch and back down from taking the biggest dick you ever seen or had in your life. You then jumped off the sink still holding eye contact with him as you lowered yourself to your calves since you were still in your heels from Saint Laurent.

He watched you with curiosity in his eyes. He watched you put the condom in your mouth, feeling the glossy rubber in your mouth, moving your mouth a bit until you grabbed his cock with your pretty hands. He threw his mouth back when your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock.

He held onto the sink when you moved your head all the way down to the base of his cock, putting on the condom with a few coughs and gags from how full your mouth was. When you finally moved your lips off his cock and stood back up to sit yourself back onto the sink with a finger beckoning him to come over and get you, he knew he needed to see you again. “ You're a dream come true.”

You smiled at him in agreement. He stroked his condom wrapped cock with three strokes. Erwin soon rubbed the tip of his cock against your wet folds causing you to wrap your arms around his neck with a nod of your head. He caught the motion and moved inside of you slowly. You felt the rubber and the thickness of his cock spilling inside of you. The silent moan from you was everything he needed for him to ravish you. “ Never had anything like this, little dove.”

You shook your head and he laughed at you. Laughed at you again when you whined at the feeling of him stretching out your pussy when he thrust all the way inside of you with one go. You couldn’t take it, you thought you could but he was too damn big, “ fu-uhhh-ck, Erwin. I can’t.. I can’t.”

Your eyes suddenly watered and he kissed them away before they could drop down your chubby cheeks, “ I got you, little dove. You can take it.” You felt a surge of reassurance enter you so you wrapped your legs around his waist taking him by surprise as well.

He moved in and out of you once he felt you open up to him a little so now both of your moans and groans were mixed with the faded music in the background. You felt like you were in heaven as he gripped your hips with your fupa spilled over his hand, “ Shit, little dove, just like that.”

Your walls kept fluttering around him as you held onto his neck with a vice grip. He picked you up and walked to the wall. When your back hit the wall you knew you were no longer in control. His thrust began to speed up and slaps were heard loudly dancing along the walls of the bathroom. The grip he had on your ass only added to your pleasure, “ You’re fucking me so deep. S’deep~” the dragged out p’ told him more than enough.

Erwin sucked on your lip as he fucked your harder against the wall. The sound of your wet cunt and his balls hitting your ass was enough to add to both of your pleasures, you earned a groan from Erwin, “ Such a naughty little slut. Letting me, mmmgh!, take you against the wall of a bar bathroom.” He swirled his hips prior to snapping them against your thighs causing his cock to snap inside of your pussy hitting your cervix, more like planting gentle kisses on it. The pace got rougher and faster and you knew he was chasing his and your orgasm.

The snap of his hips did wonders to you, wonders that caused you to roll your eyes to the back of your head with your mouth open, letting out a loud moan. “ Fuck! Please keep hitting that spot. M’gonna cum. Gonna cum.” Once you kept babbling the words cum over and over again with tears pouring down your face and drooling down your mouth, he knew he had you wrapped around his fingers now. His grunts were raspier and he was close to spilling all of his hot cum inside the condom.

“ Fuck, this condom is not enough, darling. So we have to meet again in order for me to feel how great this pussy is. Need to feel your walls around me convulsing and taking me in, ready for me to breed this fat little pussy of yours.”, Erwin grunt in your ear as an ending for his statement. His words turned you in even more so when he kept kissing your cervix, your nails scratched down his back and legs tightened around his waist.

“ Ahhn~ m’cummin. Cumming. “, your moans were loud and anyone standing outside the bathroom could hear you loud and clear even with the loud music playing outside. Your cream dripped down your pussy and onto his condom, making the condom become creamy as still moved in and out of you nonstop. Fucking you through your orgasm. You never knew what that felt like until now and you loved it. But the tears that came with overstimulation was maddening.

Erwin followed suit and thrusted three more times before spilling himself inside of the condom. His neat blonde hair was now disheveled all over his head with drops of sweat pooling around his forehead. His breaths were harsh and loud as he continued to grip your love handles as he held you up against the wall. His trousers were to his ankles and his white shirt was drowned in sweat.

His body stuck to your sweaty body with your panties holding on to one ankle. Your heels were still on and the outfit you had on is long gone. This was the sluttest you've ever been in your life and honestly you loved it. Erwin kissed your forehead as you slipped off of him— just standing against the wall breathing in and out. “ My perfect little angelic slut, you did wonderful for me. The first one to take all of me, so proud of you.”

You were finally getting the validation you always wanted. You wanted someone to feel proud of you, to care for you with want or even love. You finally got it after years of not receiving it from your father or mother.

He pulled out of you and got rid of his condom after he stopped cumming into it. Your juices were sticky on the condom and his fingers. Fuck he wanted to feel that in his cock more directly, but he’ll have to wait a while.

Your legs were still shaking, “ Can you carry me to my car out the back door. Can’t let anyone see me like this. Pretty please, daddy. With a cherry on top.” You pop the p’ and he groaned. Only reason he groaned was because you called him the name he longed for you to call him while he was deep inside of your guts. You slipped your clothes on after sliding yourself from under him while he stared at himself in the mirror.

You had scratch marks on his back and he left you hickeys on your neck. Yet he wanted you to mark him like he marked you. He almost wanted to slap himself for getting too wrapped in already when he barely knew you. Once he seen that you were fully dressed and fixed up which was five minutes later. He let you get on his back and you two walked down the hallway, passed the men bathroom and out the backdoor. You told him where your car was and he walked you there.

He sat you down on the hood of your car before hearing you unlock your car. Once you did, he opened the door for you and placed you in the driver’s seat.

“ Here’s my number, Mr. Smith. I will see you next time right? Don’t really care if I don’t, just wanna make sure.”, You asked, giving him your card you made as you looked at him with doe eyes. Your makeup was a little messed up but that’s okay because he liked you like this. So messy just for him.

“ Yes, we will see each other again, sometime. Take care, little dove. Soak in epsom salt as well.”, Erwin says with a small smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes with a little laugh following, “ Will do, after all I have to prepare for my classes on Monday.”

Erwin's eyes widened and he was about to speak but you pulled off already leaving him distraught. You are a student and he didn’t even know that. Hell how could he when you two don’t know each other. He just hoped that you weren’t his student or a student in high school. He didn’t want a repeat or case.

Meanwhile, Eren, Armin, and Reiner were looking for you, hell even Mikasa and the other girls were wondering where you went and hoped you didn’t get snatched or something. Jean was the only one who knew where you were at but he just didn’t know your name. He’ll find out soon.

Oh there was a horny and crazy storm coming your way as you made your way to your house with a small on your face. The drinks that the girls brought were still on the table as they called you. Guess you were lying about wanting to drink.

Tagging ⋄ 𓍯: @chosoist @honeybleed @simpingfor-wakasa @happygoluckyalexis @neesieiumz @secretanimesimp @mastermindenoshimaalicia @bluupen @zealousblkgirl @babyzzlove @toxicangelsweets @bxrbie1 @haitanifxn @sinsexual1 @jamaicanqueenaa

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