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#I have a lot of Thoughts about fake ears boy
pigeon-noises · 1 year
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mysicklove · 6 months
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𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆
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DAY 14: LEG HUMPING
With: Ryomen Sukuna
Word Count: 4.4k (wow)
Warnings: Sub! Sukuna, Gn! Reader, Yuuji and reader r dating (Yuuji x reader), lots of threatening of death/small violent acts,, reader slaps him, sukuna has 2 cocks in his true form, heavy power dynamics, mention of subspace, previous cuffing, small mounts of blood
A/N: i feel like i wrote this while i was high, but i was sober. idk. this is unedited but i will edit it tomorrow morning
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“I fucking hate you, you know that? Despise every cell of your body.”
You hold back a laugh, running your fingers through his hair, which earns another near animalistic growl. “Well aren't you dramatic, King of Curses. Where did my Yuuji go?”
Sukuna glares up at you, lips curling upward. He was kneeling, with his hands chained behind his back, while you sit on a chair, crossed legged. He was in the position Yuuji was in seconds ago. The position that Yuuji asked to be put in. Sukuna, obviously did not agree to this arrangement.
Yuuji must have lost control when he sank into the subspace. Just for a second, which was all the curse needed to arise. He was watching the entire time, snickering when Yuujis begs got too dramatic, or joining in on the unwelcomed degradation when the boy started to cry. 
But the only time the king was silent was when you spoke. He would conjur himself on Yuujis arm, face, hand, and just listen.
His vessel was a pervert, really, and you were too. He watched the boy go through the most humiliating things, and still he would always end up begging for more. The curse would rather die than to steep as low as Yuuji did. It was pathetic, truly. 
But sometimes, when Sukuna sticks around for too long, he finds himself hypnotized by your voice. It was always so soft with Yuuji, full of adoration, but he could not miss the authority that oozed from your tone. Strict rules that were meant to be followed, commands that were not dared questioned, and punishments that were no empty threats. He was there when Yuuji was also punished, in those rare times. They were not fun, even if the brat held a raging hard on through it all.
But overall, Sukuna was strangely enamored by your character. He was always top dog, the strongest, the king of curses, but what about you sends a shiver down his spine? Why does he want to hear your doting words? Not to Yuuji, but to him. 
Sukuna realized not long after having these thoughts that he wants to fuck you. Or maybe just get a handjob while you whisper lewd things in his ear, the way you did to the brat. Or maybe you'll wrap your lips around his dick if he was to play nice for a bit. 
It will be just a one time thing. Just so he knows for sure that he doesnt want you. Yuujis thoughts of you must be clouding his. Tonight he was here to confirm.
“Brats gone. You’ve broke him or something. Humans do that,” Sukuna pipes up, rolling his eyes, and glancing back at the cuffs he has on. He rips them off without hesitation, sending the metal falling to the ground.
Sukuna was lying. Yuuji barely was dipping into the subspace, and you know his limits well enough. Sukuna was out because he wants to be out with you. But alas, you want to see how far this will go, so you continue to play with him. A fake pout covers your face and you sigh. “Those were Yuujis favorite cuffs, was that necessary?” Not a lie. 
Sukuna dramatically stretches his hands out, cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders. He still remains on his knees. “Annoying things. Not like they would work on me.”
“Yeah, because they weren't for you.”
He stares at you, flashing his teeth. “He could have broken out of them too.”
“But he wouldn't have. He is good.” Your foot presses on his thigh, where it was previously resting, and Sukuna raises an eyebrow at you. You were into this, he could tell. 
But he wasnt going to let you know, that he was also strangely intrigued as to what was going on right here. So, he rolls his eyes, and shifts under your foot, but doesn't move completely. “Doesnt fucking matter. Whatever. Brats pathetic.”
“He’s not. Dont be an ass,” You sigh, leaning back into your chair, and cracking a smile at the ceiling while you think about the scene that is about to unfold. Never would you have thought he would be coming to you. You always had small fantasies of fucking Sukuna, but you would never act on them, frankly because you knew that the curse wasnt interested. He was the one to nearly spit on the two of you during these times. But now, the cards were in his hands.
Sukuna’s hands creep onto your lower leg, and you try your best to ignore it. His nails gently scratch over your skin, and you dont dare to move. Instead, you let out a dramatic breath, and then press onto his thigh again. “Now what do I do…” You, very obviously, prompt, and Sukuna wants to roll his eyes.
“You want me to fuck you, that right?” He in turn teases, seeing if you will take the bait. The both of you are teetering on ice, waiting for eachothers next move.
To this, you lean forward, resting your arms on your knees so that you are face to face with the curse. He doesn't even flinch, just stares with an amused expression, while your fingers trail along his jaw. “But thats not what you want, is it?” You purr, face nearly inches from his. “And besides…Thought you hated me?”
He grins at you, smile borderline predatory. “I do. You make my vessel do disgusting things.”
“You watch us a lot, don't you Sukuna?”
He falters for a second, and then suddenly he feels your foot moves from his thigh, and toward his boxers. Yuuji was only wearing his black briefs when he was sent to Sukuna's domain. “Do you get off to it?”
The familiar glare replaces the smile, and his nails dig into your skin, harsh in warning, but not enough to draw blood. “As if. You two make me sick. You are corrupting the brat. You're disgusting.”
He can tell he is beginning to tick you off, but he does not mind, especially the way your foot slowly begins to press down on his cock. “Then why are you here Sukuna?”
“To fuck you,” He quips, rolling his eyes as if it was the obvious – he did already tell you this. The hand on your leg doesn't let up, and he hitches a breath when you step almost uncomfortably hard on him. A shiver runs down his spine, and he loathes the fact that maybe he is getting off to this.
“And why would I allow you to?”
But alas, his pride would never let up. “Allow me to? You think you can tell me what to do all of the sudden. I could kill you in a heartbeat.”
You roll your eyes at his bared teeth and the narrowed red eyes that are looking up toward you. “You are the one kneeling before me.” 
He doesn't move from his position and the two of you stare in silence. You restrain from voicing your approval, not wanting to piss the already tempermental curse off. 
Sukuna sighs and taps on the skin of your leg, signalling you to continue. “Get on with it. I want to see how gross your desires can be.”
“Will you be good for me and listen?”
“Is that what the boy does?”
You cock your head to the side, fighting the urge to furrow your eyebrows at him. “Yuuji? You know the answer to that question, you voyeur.”
The curse pinches at his brow, obviously peeved by your statement, and you cant help but giggle lightly at hin. “Not a voyeur. Just want…Whatever. Now for fucks sake, do something. Yes, yes I'll listen, do you want me to bark or some shit? I am not as pathetic and moldable as your other toy.”
The slap comes quick, sending a stinging sensation to his cheek, and Sukunas eyes nearly pop out of his head. He slowly brings his hands up to his face, touching the now pinkened skin, before turning to you. He didnt even have time to process it, or get angry about it, before you spoke. "Enough with the insults to Yuuji. Are you looking for some sort of attention?”
“Fuc-”
Another slap directly to the same spot, and Sukuna knows this time that he could have blocked it. You were a human, your attacks were slow, weak. But he didnt block. He let you do this. He was going mad, he had to be. 
His face stings, and your hand comes forward to grip at his jaw. He tries to hide a wince, but you watch him clench his teeth together. “Are you done?”
He had two choices in the matter. One to keep, willingly, Sukuna notes with much hesitancy, get slapped around, or he can get his dick possibly wet. He came for the latter, and so he will abide, even if it damaged his pride. He looks away, and that is the best answer you'll get. “Good. Well that was easy. Does your face hurt?”
Sukuna barks a laugh, and you raise your eyebrows. “Do you have any perception of how weak you are?”
You raise your hand up immediately to strike, and the curse flinches, preparing for what was to come next. But you just keep your hand there, eyes widening in glee, while Sukuna borderline growls. He doesn't say anything though, so you lower your hand, and rest it on his head. The act causes his whole body goes rigid, but he continues to remain silent.
“I want you to put your hands behind your back.” Your first command toward him, and Sukuna, as embarrassing as it is, feels his heart begin to pound. His mouth goes dry, and he slowly releases them from your leg and slides them behind him, his wrists crossing over. 
A playful smile pulls at your lips, and you lean over to him, ruffling up his hair as if he was some sort of dog to be pet. “Good little curse!”
Sukuna's heart pounds in his chest, and he begins to grow restless. His cock throbbed pathetically at the words, and he was embarrassed to admit that the praise felt nice. Different than the deranged pleasure he felt from the slap, and the harsh tone, but….Good overall. He nods with a scoff. “Yeah, yeah. Can you fucking hurry up.”
His hips gently buck into the pad of your sock, and you try your best to stay calm. He was liking it, all of it was so weird, but endearing, so you didnt move to stop him. “Are you getting frustrated, ‘kuna?”
The nickname has him catching his breath, and shifting on the pads of feet. The tone of your voice was sickenly sweet, and if he allowed himself to, Sukuna could melt into it. He tries to hold some of his dignity. “N-No,” He stutters out, and then curses under his breathe of how stupid he must sound. He quickly recuperates himself. “What do you want from me, you sick fuck?”
“Anything I want?”
“Don't hold your breath.”
You slowly remove your foot from his crotch, and the curse bites his tongue to hold back a complaint. He watches your eyes travel to the ceiling, lost in thought, before you turn back to him with a small grin. “Take your boxers off, and then put your hands back where they were. Exactly where they were.”
Sukuna was not shy, and neither were you, so he is quick to remove the article of clothing. Though of course this was Sukuna, so it was unnecessarily dramatic. He slices the thin fabric open with a single nail, and then throws the useless cloth away. Then he sighs when he looks down. “Of course the brat is small.”
Yuuji was many things, but small was definitely not one of them. He is well over the average size, and it was borderline intimidating. If Sukuna was calling Yuuji small then you didnt even want to know what the curse was carrying. “Small compared to your inhuman-freakish cock?”
“-s”
Your furrow you eyebrows and hum in question.
Sukunas grin is cocky, his body reeking of arrogance, even if he was the one kneeling. “You forgot the “s”. Cocks. Plural.”
Your face controrts to first shock, fear, and then finally lands on distain. “That's disgusting.”
“You say that now but when you are drooling on them later–” Another slap across the face, and Sukuna actually didn't see this one coming. It stuns him speechless for a moment, but then he shivers, cupping his cheek with one of his hands. His eyes flicker to you, but they don't hold any disdain in them – he simply just watches, curious of your next move.
He fails to notice the glob of precum that falls onto the floor after the slap. “Ah, are you leaking Sukuna? Does getting hit turn you on?”
It may be the pain, or may be the psychological aspect of it all. If he says something wrong, he gets punished, and for some reason or another, that drives him insane with desire. He gulps, taking a deep breath to regain his composure. “Of course not. I am not the pervert here.”
“But I bet I could make you do some perverted things.”
His cock, as humiliating as it is, likes the sound of that. It noticeably twitches, and he hopes that more pre doesn't slip out before starting anything. His hands shift from behind his back, but he doesnt dare to move them. “Yeah? How far does your twisted mind go?”
“Far. But I dont want to scare you off too badly tonight,” You sigh, leaning back comfortably in your chair. Sukuna holds off a growl, peeved at how you worded the statement. “Guess you can just hump my leg.”
He laughs, loud and proudly, but your smile withstands. You rest your cheek on your palm, and you wait for the booming laugh to die down. It does, not after long, and slowly when he realizes that you arent joking, the curse glares as you. “Oh fuck off. I told you I am not to be your dog.”
You sigh, and stand up from your chair. “Guess we will end here for the night then. Send Yuuji back when he is well rested.”
A clawed hand wraps around your leg, and Sukuna bares his teeth at you. “Fine. I'll do it. Would you stop being so dramatic?” He gets out through clenched teeth.
You nod and sit back down in your chair, kicking your leg out. Sukuna eyes it, as if unsure of what to do. “Mount it,” You encourage, shaking your limb ever so gently.
“I know how to, you fucking idiot,” He bites, and then slowly uses his knees to push himself forward. His red eyes lock onto yours, and he stares at you the entire time as he straddles you. Your foot rests beneath his body, and his cock barely grazes your lower knee. One hand rests on the back of your leg for security, and the other onto the edge of your chair.
You gulp, and move your leg upward, pinning his cock in between his stomach and the skin of your leg. The curse doesnt dare to move, and he holds a wince when he glances at the glob that drips from his tip and smears onto your leg. A token sign that he is unbelievably turned on. “Drooling over me already? I'm flattered.”
He narrows his eyes at you. “Bite your tongue before I rip it off.” 
You don't even flinch at the threat, instead applying more force upward, making the curse curl inward on himself as he tries to lift his hips upward, away from the foot. “Get on with it,” You command, leaving no room for complaints. 
His eyes flicker toward you when he hears the strictness in your tone, and he blinks when you glare at him. He gulps, ignoring the pleasant shiver that runs down his spine. But he doesn't dwell on it, because you lower your leg again, and he is free to move. His hands feel strangely shaky, but he hides it well, not wanting to know how much power, Sukuna is discovering quickly, you have over him. 
He lines his cock to the middle of your leg, and thrusts forward without much hesitancy. The skin is soft, and it glides over with little resistance, and Sukuna’s eyes are glued to the spot. 
Its strange, not as pleasurable like all the previous women he has fucked, nor a warm throat, but for some reason or another, it sends his head spinning.
His hips retreat, and they push themselves upward against the plush of your leg. Eventually he falls into a steady motion, entranced by his actions. It's pathetic, and gross, but why did it feel so good? A leg shouldnt be pleasurable –  it doesnt wrap around his cock like he wants it to, but it is strangely addicting. 
He realizes quickly why it feels that way – Sukuna is no idiot. He likes the psychological part behind it. He likes that he is kneeling for you, and getting off to something so measly as this. It makes him feel gross compared to you – nothing more than skum, and you, must be some sort of god. It turns him on so much he can barely stand it.
His head falls forward, and it taps onto your thigh. His whole body seems to tremble, and the timing of his thrusts seems to pick up – they are quicker, frantic, and his cock nearly slides off more than it should. 
Your fingers fall to his head, and this time he doesnt move, in fact he seems to melt into the touch. This was weird, and you were both intrigued, and slightly scared. “You really seem to be liking this, huh?”
He doesn't respond for a long second, maneuvering his fingers to hold onto the back of your  leg with his thumbs left in front of the limp. It provides a makeshift “O” and finally the curse feels like he is actually fucking something, rather than just grinding. “There ya go,” He mumbles to himself, as if lost in a trance. His cock slides itself between your leg and his thumbs, and its driving him insane.
When he doesnt respond, you tug backward on his hair, forcing him to look up at you. To your surprise, he doesnt glare at you, nor let out a biting remark; instead, the curse moans. Its low, and holds a sort of vibration to it, but definitely there. “Oh you fucking freak.”
He lets out a lazy grin, neck uncomfortably craned upward. You watch the way he licks at his teeth, and he breathes out, “More.”
You press your leg deeper into him, and Sukuna in response lets out another gutteral moan, except this one holds a whine to it. The sound travels straight to your groin, and you sit up in your chair, eyes slightly widening. “What changed, king? Dont tell me your getting off to grinding against a mere human peasant like me?”
He lets out a small, breahthless laugh, but doesnt dare stop his motions. “Just this once. Just this once let me, and th-then I swear you are dead.”
Your leg is glistening in some small areas, from when he leaked and spread it into the skin with his tip. He stares at your face the entirety of it, even when you look away to glance at his cock. “But ‘kuna, whose leg will you frot against if you kill me? Aw dont tell me, youll find another to cling to. Y’know I am the only one who can take care of you.”
You drop his head and he goes back to resting his forehead on your knee. His pants are warm against your leg, and you feel him shake his head.
You are right of course. He would never dare show another this side of him to another. He doesnt want to either, even if he never would admit it outloud. “J-Just stop it. Please.”
Please was not in the king of curses vocabulary. Your eyes widen with glee. “How much do you like it? Tell me, does my leg feel good?”
“Does. Fuck. Fuck, I hate you. I hate you.” He nods his head into your leg, hiding his face. His body turns a shade similar to his hair, and it begins to glisten with sweat from his movements. He lets out small breathless moans, and stares at the tip moving up and down the fake color.
His body seems to curl around you your limb, as if trying to trap it in his hold. His lips, much to your surprise, press themselves to your knee and you can hear the smallest chant.  “Love it. ‘S mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.”
You raise your eyebrows at the deranged, borderline creepy words.  “So you hate me, but love my leg? Don't tell me you got some strange fetish.”
You feel his canines hover over the space just above your knee, a small warning from the curse. You blink at him, surprised by the small resistance, but dont do much. He licks at the flesh a second later, and pulls away. You have to bite back a laugh.
His hands by this point have dropped, and are instead clawing at your chair. He doesnt need them anymore, considering that he is so close to you that that his stomach and your leg are stimulating him on both sides.
“Fuck. I'm close,” Sukuna mumbles into your skin, pressing himself impossibly closer. You wish you had your phone to take a picture – he was basically cradling your leg as if it was some sort of prized possession.
“Are you asking me for permission?”
“N-No. ‘m not. Can I?” He paws at your thighs, nails threatening to dig into your skin. Of course he would never, at least not in this meager state.
“No.”
He bares his teeth at you and glares, but his eyes convey his true feeling: panicked. His pace doesn't slow though, and your leg is now sticky from the amount of precum lost. “I-Im going to whether you like it or not. Fuck. Fuck you. I hate you. Ngh, can you just–just agree!”
His mouth is back onto your knee, sending it sloppy kisses, and small bites. His tip is pulsing red, and it begins to throb. His legs were beginning to tremble, and he tries to focus on not cumming. For some unknown reason, Sukuna wants you to allow him to.
“But you were a brat all day? Boys who threaten death, dont deserve certain privileges,” You hum, and then run your fingers through his hair. “But I am a mere human, and you the king of curses. Why would you listen to my commands?” 
Sukuna bites his lip, immediately tearing blood. It dribbles down his chin, but he is quick to wipe it off, and reheal himself. His brows furrow and he scowls at the floor. The only noises let out are the grunts of his movements, and the moans that seem to get higher in pitch with each coming second. 
He is lost in thought. The curse doesnt understand why he wants permission, but he needs it. He cant cum without it, it was bound to dissapoint you if he did. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth, and finally, the pathetic words that he has been thinking this entire night come spilling out. “Cause I want you to! Command me, give me orders, do something to me. J-Just I–fuck! I need it!” 
“Why?”
He was growing frustrated and more panicked as the seconds go by. He was moments from cumming. “Because I–I ngh–Want to please you! Would you just fucking…” He warbles, praying that tears don't come. “Let me cum. I beg you. Let me. I'll do anything.”
Your heart pounds in your chest, and blood flows to your crotch. His watery eyes blink up at you, and he continues to rut against you, like some sort of dog. But thats what he is, or seems to want to be. So, you cock your head to the side, and provide him with a lazy grin. “Go ahead, Fido.”
His red eyes seem to light up at the approval, and he nods to himself as if bewildered by your agreement. But, he does follow through with the plea, and suddenly he is cumming. His whole body trembles, and he holds onto your leg with such force that you have to slide your hands on to of his, in a slight warning to be gentle. Cum shoots out onto your leg, but you can barely see it, considering his body has caved in on himself. He continues to rub himself out even through it all, as he pants into your knee. The curse wears a lazy grin through it all, and lets out small high in pitch moans. 
He collapses backward, landing on his ass and panting to catch his breath. You glance away for a second, at most two, to look at the cum stained on your leg. A chuckle falls from your lips. 
When Sukuna recovers, he goes straight back to scowling at you. In a heartbeat, he stands over you, borderline growling at you. His nails dig into your shoulders, and your eyes widen at the quickness of it all. Then he leans forward, a near inch away from your ear he whispers, “Don't get your hopes up. This will never happen again. Do you hear me?”
His nail presses uncomfortably hard into your skin, and so you are forced to nod. And with that your vision goes black.
For the next two weeks, Sukuna doesnt conjure up on Yuujis body anytime you are around. You dont mind it too much – it did save you from bickering with the arrogant prick. But to be honest, you were a little disappointed, having call his bluff. 
You werent disappointed for long.
Low and behold, two weeks later from the incident, you find yourself faced to face with the King of Curses, who was already kneeling before you. 
He glares at you, teeth on full display, as if he didnt realize what position he has put you guys in. “If you mention this to anyone, I will tear you to shreds.” Is all that he says.
But you arent too picky. So you grin, and hold your leg out.
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capslocked · 4 months
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HONNE, TATAMAE & THE OTHER ONE
male reader x shin yuna
9k words
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Yuna shuffles into your office with the same sneaky smile, the same easy slouch, and she settles into one of the chairs across the table. There is, apparently, more to talk about.
It's a matter of image, of perception, is what she knows. 
You know every good lie starts with the truth.
So you swallow. You pause. Some other part of you understands Yuna can't ignore who she really is, and you’re not sure you can either.
-
Look - Shin Yuna is the kind of woman that turns heads, even with the best of intentions. A long, lithe silhouette; an easy, rosy sort of youthfulness clinging to the swell of her cheekbones, the curve of her waist. Take a dress that's cut to show a little thigh, or a hairstyle pushed back on one side - earrings, or heels, or just the subtle swipe of red over her lip - it doesn't take much for men (or anyone else) to figure that out. A girl who, more times than not, really ought to have a boy's hand planted on her ass, in possession.
So the opportunity to capture such a form perfected - all toned and graceful and flush for curves, her legs never seeming to end, the slithering fit of the dresses - these were the things they wanted. Package it, put a logo on it - better yet, a ribbon or a bow - and ship it straight to the consumer.
Somebody everyone wants, somebody no one can ever have.
“So,” Yuna asks from the other side of your desk, lips slanting halfway coy. “Are you going to treat me like an adult?"
Her fingers play idly with the hem of her skirt, and she lets a long, slender leg slowly slide out from beneath her.
“In what way,” you answer, half paying attention.
"The photos." She doesn't have the slightest qualms about lifting it higher. The soft creak of leather, and a deepening smile. "Am I not allowed to be a little racy?"
"That's certainly... one way of looking at it."
You glance away from where her stockings wrap around the soft curve of her thighs to flip back through the photos in your lap, one after the other, each a little different from the last. The beach, the sun, a flimsy white slip of a bikini top that hides exactly nothing, her muscles wet and glistening and perfect. Beyond suggestive, it's considerably inappropriate.
But then to a lot of people, Yuna is a lot of things. 
She’s more clever than anyone gives her credit for. And she’s fucking gorgeous, sure. That’s definitely not up for debate, but god is she young - she's barely twenty. And here’s some rather uninteresting food for thought: you couldn't even technically take her for a drink without faking an ID or breaking some law or another, like a real one. So go ahead, chew that down. Girls her age are typically studying, or working a retail job and getting wasted on the weekends. And they aren't typically making six, seven figures turning their head to the camera and asking how much more skin?
You have some thoughts.
Prudently, you’re her publicist, and it’s your job to make sure that the public gets a good look at her and sees exactly what you want them to see. It's unfair. She wields sex like a weapon. She's got the face, the body; it's an easy sell, commodified and commercialized down to the finest detail, the softest curve, the slightest arch of her brow. The idea's to not let anyone look too long, should they catch something you haven't approved yet, or the fact that she's quite possibly a real person with a real life and real feelings, which could easily fuck up her brand, so unfortunately, that's a bit of a no-go.
Sign of the times maybe, no ethical consumption under another something, yadda yadda - it's a shitty business, really, and the whole thing usually leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
(And just to be upfront, as an important disclosure: you are fucking her brains out on the side, which is a different kind of ethical dilemma, with a different kind of flavor to it. 
You’re supposed to be something of a role model - and she’s gone and fucked up bad by falling for you. From her perspective, it probably makes sense. Girl gets boy, bespoke song, credits roll and it's fine. No sin to atone, no 'after'. 
It was supposed to be a one time thing. It’s metastasizing into something you’re not even going to attempt to put into words. It’s a lawsuit waiting to happen, you know that. And you know the girl has daddy issues, but then you've never had a problem whatsoever playing into it. The possessiveness, the control - she gets off on it. You're pretty sure that she'd do just about anything if you asked her, and you'll admit that the thought alone makes your stomach stir, your mouth run dry.)
Yuna taps her knuckles on the wood of your desk. “What’s the verdict?” 
"Well, professionally," you say, caveat in hand, and you give the photos one last flip through. "I'd say they're fine.”
"Oh?" Yuna cocks her head to the side. Her long, blonde hair curtains over her shoulder, and the smile that shadows in at the corner of her mouth is almost wicked. She leans forward, chin propped on a palm, and you see that her expression is bright, glittering with interest. "And unprofessionally?"
Sure. It's a fair question.
Though she's wearing her stage face, the one that looks all big eyes and doe lashes, a hint of a pout on her plush bottom lip, and she's staring at you expectantly, the way she might look at a man she's just asked for the time.
You've seen her look a million other ways. You've seen her with her knees spread, her cheeks flushed, on all fours, straddling your lap, face pressed into the sliding glass door of your shower, her eyes screwed shut as she chokes out your name. And god, doesn’t she look good in all of them.
Your fingers tap against the photos.
“Unprofessionally," you tell her, and the smile on your face is tight - unknowable. "I think they’re a little… gaudy."
Yuna frowns, and it's just a flash before her expression is carefully blank again, the stage face back in full swing. She's been doing this since she was a teenager, so the mask is impeccable, but you know her, and you know that she's thinking: about the photo shoot, the way the photographer was looking at her, and the way you had looked at her later, too.
She knows what you've seen. She's wondering if that's why.
"Really," she asks, a note of disappointment in her voice.
"Really," you confirm with a small sigh, though you're still smiling. It's a small, private sort of smile, like you're remembering a joke. You don't miss the way she glances down at your mouth either. "Let me be clear, you have a shot at real success. I mean, you have a chance at a career. A real, sustainable career.”
She's sitting there with her legs crossed, her foot tapping restlessly, and when she's silent for a moment too long, the way her eyes narrow just a smidge, her head tipped slightly, you realize how it sounds. Patronizing.
"Look," you amend. You're not the best at apologies, but you try. "I just mean - I think that you could be doing something that you actually enjoy."
"Who says I don't enjoy this," she says, and there's a bite in her tone, a challenge. She's leaning back in her seat now, arms crossed.
"What, taking your clothes off for the camera?" You laugh, a quick bark. Isn’t that a cruel question, and you can see it in the way her eyes flash. "You could do a lot more than that, I'm just saying."
"Right," she says, and she doesn't blink, doesn't even move. Her gaze is fixed, unwavering. "Because I'm not pretty enough."
You open your mouth. Close it.
It's not a question. It's a statement.
"That's not what I'm saying-"
"Do you know what makes me different from the IT-girl-of-the-month? The Jang Wonyoungs, the Bae Irenes, the Kim Jisoos of the world?" Yuna cuts in.
"Yuna, this isn't-"
"You should know. " She laughs. "It's your job, knowing things, isn't it?"
The silence stretches thin between you. She's not wrong. There’s the quintessential beauty, the timeless classic, the fantasy-wrapped-up-as-a-daydream - oh, it's all sexual, but the product there is palatable (read: marketable). An idea the general public wants to take home to their mother, not take to bed. A beauty so docile and innocent, you feel guilty harboring those untoward thoughts it makes you have.
Yuna is somewhere possibly, someway probably the opposite. You’ve sold her as such, as fantasy in sheep's clothing. She's neither afraid to put the images to words, nor speak her desires aloud. It's her own brand of sensuality, and it's what the public wants - has always truly wanted, since the dawn of man and of popstars fucking their publicists - what the public wants but turns itself in knots just to pretend they don't. The only way it’ll end up in anyones’ parents' home is under the guise that it will be smuggled upstairs and held down into the springs of a mattress. Hand over her mouth, or maybe around her throat, just so she'll shut up.
She's not a nice girl, or the girl-next-door, a bride-in-a-box, but you'd known that before. The line between fact and fiction is fine indeed.
"You're different," you tell her, finally.
"When I first came in here, you had no qualms, no issue to raise, and now all of a sudden, everything is too much," she says, and she's not smiling, her tone flat. "If it was a problem from the jump, you would've said so."
“I just think a little subtlety would be a nice change of pace. It could go a long way, I mean, I could show you the data- "
"So you're going soft on me, is that it?"
You blink, and the realization hits.
"Just where was this noble version of you when we first started out? You had no problem then, remember? Put a sixteen-year-old in front of a camera, in this industry, and all of a sudden-"
"Don't."
“And suddenly it's all 'oh no, that's a little too much, we need to dial it back'." She sighs, a single sharp burst. "Why is that? Is it because you think that now you own me? I fuck you, swallow your cum and call you daddy, and now these are your decisions? Is that it?"
She’s standing now, her chair shoved back so fast it nearly clatters to the floor. There's a storm on her face, almost a rage. This now become a familiar story. The one where the girl's too pretty for her own good. Too much, too soon.
"I'm not a child," she tells you, her tone measured, a sharp contrast to the fire in her eyes. "I know what I want. I know how to get it. You're not telling me anything I don't already know. I'm different. You're right."
She's different, but the girl's clever, too. And she's stubborn. It's a dangerous combination.
You breathe slow. "Then why don’t you act like it."
“If they’re going to call me a slut,” she hisses, and she's walking forward. Her palms land on your desk, hard, and you glance down at her clenched fists, at her neatly kept nails, "you know, after we leak them all those steamy photos online-"
Your mind clicks. You reach to slam the cover of the photo book shut. She's caught your hand, though, in hers, holding it firmly to the desk.
Yuna glances at the photos over again, at the tight fit of the swimwear, or how the ties slip in an invisible breeze. And she's biting her lip, trying not to smile, you can tell. "You know it might be worth it for once," she says, slipping a finger between the buttons of her shirt.
There's a long, tense moment, and before you can register it, Yuna has rounded your desk; she’s closing the distance, fast. 
And she’s lowering her eyes. Putting her lips on yours.
It knocks the wind from your sail, for just the instant. You're speechless.
Because her fingers. Her mouth. Her hair. Yuna's everywhere, and she's warm. It's utterly selfish, you understand: you want her to be yours. You want her to be yours and no one else's.
She’s realizing she might be.
You feel her grabbing for more of you. Wanting. She tilts her head, her breath hot, and you kiss her back, her mouth slick against your own, and the kiss is a fast, deliberate kind of messy. Your teeth catch her bottom lip, and her tongue slips past yours, licking into your mouth, her hands clutching at the collar of your shirt. It's not like it is when you're fucking, which is slow and hot, and she's on her back, legs around your waist, her nails biting into your skin, or when she's bent over the arm of the sofa, her ass in the air and her back arched, her breathless moans a chorus of yes, yes, please. This kiss is more battle, more heat, less gentle and less finesse. It's the kind of kiss that's just short of an argument.
"You're an asshole," she breathes into your mouth, and it's not a compliment.
You smile against her.
"So are you," you murmur, and her lips are parted, her eyelids fluttering shut, her breath coming quick and hot.
"Then maybe you should just fuck me," she says. She's not asking. “Yeah.” You press your words right into her neck, her collarbone. “Maybe I should.”
Your hands are on her hips faster than you can realize what it is they’re doing, palms pressing into her, and then you're walking her backwards, shuffling a few steps until the small of her back collides with the edge of your desk, and you're lifting her up onto the surface, the photographs falling to the floor, scattering.
"I thought we weren't supposed to do this here," she murmurs, pulling away for just a moment, her mouth swollen and wet, her eyes dark. She knows exactly what it does to you: the goading, the taunting - the looks of faux-innocence later over a bare shoulder, her ass in the air. How it can get you to fuck her within an inch of her life. What it’ll get her, the return on investment.
"And I thought we agreed to longer skirts."
Her thighs are smooth, silky, and they part, the lace of her underwear stark against her skin. You slide a hand beneath the elastic band, sinking down, and down, until she inhales sharply.
"The fuck do you end up doing going up the stairs?" you add, and your fingers are tracing the swell of her hip, and you can feel the goosebumps on her skin.
She bites her lip. You sink down to press a kiss to her thigh, and then the other.
"Nothing," she tells you, and her eyes are wide. "I guess it all just hangs out."
She simply smirks right back into you, throws her arms over your shoulders. You’re snared, caught - she’ll always be able to fuck what she wants right out of you.
"Jesus, Yuna." Your hand curls around her wrist, thumb pressed to her pulse, and her shoulders roll back.
You push her down, and she's sprawled across the desk, legs stretching wide, her head tilted back and her chest heaving. “God, you’re so fucking wet, and I've barely touched you. That turns you on? Being a brat?"
She sucks air past her teeth, and you can measure each rise and fall of her chest. The lace under her hips is soaked, her pussy swollen and pink. Like if she doesn’t get your hot, open mouth on her clit this instant, you’re both going to have a problem.
You slip two fingers into her instead, and Yuna keens.
"I know it does," you say, and your voice comes out lower, drier than you expect. She's hot, so wet around you, her pussy fluttering. "It fucking turns me on, too."
"Please," and “god,” is what all you receive back in half whispers, while her legs are spread, her heels now really dug into the square of your back, and she's got a fistful of your hair like she owns it. Her voice is high, her eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t be such a fucking tease."
You're not going to make it easy. She's not going to make this quick.
"What, and you aren’t?"
You curl your fingers inside her, and the noise that leaves her is positively obscene. She's grinding against your palm, her hips bucking, and her lips are parted, her eyelashes dark and thick, fanning her cheeks. She's panting, her thighs trembling.
"No," she breathes. If she’s shaking her head, you can’t tell. "I'm exactly what you tell them I am."
Your hand stills, and it takes a moment for her to realize that the pressure inside her is gone. Her eyes snap open, her mouth twisted.
"Fuck you," she spits. "Put them back."
You're already sinking down to your knees, and you've got her skirt shoved up, the lace panties pulled aside, her hips canted, her pussy glistening. The stockings can stay, fuck, the heels, too. She's so fucking hot, her legs spread apart and her lips red. Her palm shoved into her brow, and her breath just barely more than a ragged huff of air. You can feel her body wound tight and ready, her eyes on the ceiling.
You put your tongue against her, flat and slow. Inaccurate, indiscriminate, licking up her wet cunt. And her whole body arches off the desk, a cry leaving her mouth with her head thrown back. Her thighs are shaking, and her heel presses into your shoulder, and god, she tastes incredible.
"Please." It comes like music, really, a song of desperation. You can hear it. She's singing it for you now. "Oh god, please, fuck-"
So you do her one better. You put your whole mouth over her, and she fucking shivers. You don’t even try to ease into it - you're devouring, ravishing her, working your lips and tongue all over her pussy, lapping the length of her in broad, hot strokes, and she's almost shrieking, her body going taut. You suck on her lips, pressing your tongue into her clit, and when you pull off her, your hand takes over the place where your tongue can't quite reach, her wetness slick around your fingers. Yuna's close - you can see that she is, you can hear that she is, and it's her gasp that lets you know.
"I'm -" she says, her voice reaching higher, her nails digging into the flesh of your shoulders, the wood of your desk. The sound she makes is wretched and beautiful. "God, I'm cumming, I'm cumming - fuck!"
The licking, the lapping, the fucking fingering. You can feel her slicked cunt pulse and throb in a satisfied, anticipatory kind of way. Even if she wasn’t audibly wet around your knuckles, you’d read Yuna like a map.
Your thumb taps across her clit, once - twice, thrice, and it’s just that.
She arches off your desk, thighs trembling as your tongue works her over, This hard, hungry kiss, and she tastes as sweet as she looks - as filthy as she acts, too. Her pussy is slick, her hips rolling, her body trembling, and she's making soft, little ah, ah, ah, sounds into the wet seal of your mouth. She's trying to keep it quiet, because she knows as well as you, everyone in the damn office does, probably - it's one thing to play at being a slut. A complete other to really fuck like one.
Your finger slips in and out of her pussy, and then another. They fill her up. The knuckles bending and pushing deeper. Yuna's fucking ruined - your desk is ruined.
But then there you are, complicit, and perhaps a little evil: licking and licking and licking right into her, making her grip twist in your hair and her thighs clench around your face. You can feel it in how her breathing is coming fast, faster, her whole body growing taut, and it was never going to take long, you figure, the way her hips were rolling the moment you got your hands on her. You can tell. She's close, and she's so pretty, all flushed and writhing, her skirt hiked up, her ass perched on the edge of your desk, and when her mouth falls open and her breath catches in her throat, you pull yourself up to watch her, the heel of your hand pressed against her clit, and she's shaking.
"Look at me,” you tell her, a kiss trailing unsatisfyingly into the crease of her thigh, your voice running coarse.
She does, her gaze glassy, and the sound that leaves her mouth is a sob. That’s all it really takes.
“Show me. What face you make when you cum on my fingers sweetheart, show me what a slut you actually are-"
You can watch it all in real time, the panting, the heaving. The sculpted lines of her pretty face screw up, real tight, and she lets out another moan, breathier this time, her mouth hanging open. She does it again when you press down. And Yuna fucking shakes, her hands balled, white-knuckling, and the desk rattling beneath her.
It's all a matter of slight degradation, you’ve learned, the barest humiliation. Like the paradoxical freedom she knows she can find in a hand clenched tight around her throat or her hair pulled and twisted into a fist or the sharp sting of a smack across her ass. Her pretty face. She likes a little something that burns. Something sinewy, visceral, raw: you call her a whore, a filthy fucking cumslut and it makes her body curl like she has hot metal pressing into her skin. Makes her breathless, like she wants you to own her.
Sometimes it's better than being fucked.
(Sometimes.)
Because just look at her: she’s in the middle of coming apart, mouth fallen slack, brow furrowed - and she gets real quiet when she cums, the absolute opposite of the journey she’d taken to get there, all those loud little, uh-uh-ah, fucking please god, her moans, her whimpers - her orgasm ripping right through the middle of her, the hourglass of her entire body stiffening on borrowed time as it washes across her features.
You let out a loud sigh, something she can moor herself to that isn’t your fingers, the desk, or your hair at the roots. Yuna can be every bit as uncomplicated as she can be complex, but god, you love her most like this: an unrehearsed, beautiful mess.
"Baby," you tell her, because it's easier to just call her that, and because you don't know how else to end the statement, because you know if you ask, she'll let you - hell, she'll beg for more, and that’s got your brain feeling rather mushily incoherent at present.
"Daddy," she responds - because of course she fucking does; she’s gasping, and her cheeks are still so pink, her body sated, and your heart leaps into your throat. 
It's a problem; you've been trying to work it out for a good few months now, and by this, you mean the little moment you have right after you're done, where your eyes meet, and you smile at her. A problem, too, her lips. A problem, because she kisses you, soft, and slow, and easy. A problem, because her heart's probably already yours.
If anyone were to ask, you would have said there's no greater pleasure than knowing a girl that's almost died to take your cock, but maybe that's the point: it's just supposed to feel a bit better if you're a little head over heels, a little stupid about it too.
"I'm going to use this perfect pussy now," you warn her - just simple formality - because you're already rolling her down onto her back, your cock hard and aching against your trousers.
You've got your hands on her stockings, tugging them down to her ankles, the lace of her panties around her thighs, the neat garter of her garter belt wrapped around her hips, her cunt bare beneath it. You unzip, too slow. You tug yourself out.
“I’ll be good,” she says to you, a promise.
“Yeah,” you return to her, “I know.”
And you slip your cock into her cunt, just barely - maybe an inch, maybe more - and you hear a little noise leave her throat, low. Broken. 
“Fuck,” she murmurs, and god, you just can't help it, it's easy; you sink deeper, nice, slow, everything smooth inside her, until another broken sort of gasp spills off her lips. 
And then another: "oh my fucking god."
You snap your hips back in, bottoming out this time in the wet heat of her perfect cunt, and she just fucking collapses. Yuna looks like an absolute dream in this state of half-dress, half-distress: black suede around the ankles, stilettos, with just the perfect heel. There are worse things, you can imagine, and she looks perfect sprawled out against your notes and portfolios, all this hot, aching want. As gorgeous as she is fucked. You tear into her stockings, a little. You’ll tear more. 
You already know you're going to hell. Or at least that’s where you should already be, but you hips crash into hers again, fucking her legs wider apart, spreading her open across your desk for you, getting her slick all over the photos, her career - it’s all so perfectly unfair.
"You have no idea, the things I want to do to you right now," you breathe, your tone hushed, and you're talking again, like you often do. There goes your mouth - but your hips drag back, and then again, her pussy clenching, vice tight and impossibly wet.
It's a long, torturous, lazy sort of a pull, that draws these pretty thin moans from the very center of her.
And the way that feels, your cock buried deep in her cunt: better than good - heaven, if you care enough about labels for it, or the names of things. You haven’t any real way to tell; the gates haven't opened or anything, so all you're working from here is an educated guess. From the fact that Yuna’s eyes have slid closed, her lips parted, and her whole body starting now to tremble gently with it.
"Jesus, this perfect, tight pussy grips me so good, god - such a good girl, always so fucking wet for me," and your mouth is pressed to the arch of her ear, whispering every last thing you know will make her cum again, like a dream.
And she is, she does.
She's twisting up to grip at your hips, her head falling to one side. When you drag your cock through her cunt, slowly, you watch her lips purse and the way the flush moves all the way down the column of her neck, past her collarbone, her shirt half undone and her tits heaving against the white, sheer fabric. You fuck her for a little, and then you roll your hips slow, so slow. 
Until your pace is fucking punishing, deep, and so hard. You can’t help it.
Because it's unbelievable - she's so perfect, so tight around you. Fit snug like a glove, like she was made to take your cock, to whimper and mewl at your mercy. Her lips part further and she keens, her brows twisting in similar disbelief as you pound your length into her. The heat pooled in your belly, the way she looks under your desk: fuck, she's so beautiful like this, properly fucked. 
You'd let her ruin you for life - it's that simple.
"Yuna, you - fuck," you barely say, and you sound more than slightly stunned, so she’s filling in the gaps, elaborating in the spaces you cannot - that she loves it, that you’re so good for her, and so is that, and that, and that - the way it hits, right there, keep fucking her just like that, because right there, right there, right there, right there - the way she props herself up on her elbows to tell you, "you're fucking me so deep, oh my god - yes, oh my god, fuck."
By the time Yuna shudders through another orgasm, a silent ghost of a wail leaving her pretty frozen mouth, her lashes are batting against her cheeks, and she's biting her lip, so hard you're certain she's going to break the skin, her back strung like a bow. It's the look on her face, that soft sort of reverence, and how her lips are swollen and spit-slick, the pretty hollow of her throat. Your thrusts become faster, shorter - your own moan thick in your throat, your jaw hanging slack.
“Here,” you say, and she’s just putty between your fingers, on your cock.
You’re flipping her around, onto a different angle. You know she likes it, the way her tits are pressed against your desk, and it's hot the way her ass tilts right into your hips, arched. Proffering. "Be good for me, and spread yourself open."
She's already so meek when she complies. "Anything, sir. Stretch me out; I want you to make me yours."
God, she's practically purring when she talks like this. She knows exactly what that fucking does to you. Knows that when her eyes draw back, big and watery and full, you're a goner - if your cock wasn't deep in her pussy, fucking her open and raw, the view would nearly be enough. And all of this, the pretense, the pantomime, she knows how to bend the line of your body to her own, because when she turns, and presses her red mouth to the crest of her shoulder, you are hers.
You could probably cum, right now, deep down into the molten hot of her cunt: if your hips keep up their ruthless pace, if her ass was sticking up the slightest bit more - the sound that would come from her.
"Take that perfect cock - and fuck my pussy up," Yuna mewls, her voice saccharine and slurring, a touch whiny. She rolls her hips. Your cock grinds, still, though it stutters now - shallow and quick.
"All this pussy, for daddy's cock," and you're sure that the entire office can hear her now, the moans that escape from her mouth - but you can't even find it in you to care. You're caught, all of her a net you've willingly been ensnared by, and here you figure that's the slightest bit appropriate; you're so fucked, and it's funny, too. Funny enough to laugh about, later. "Nobody fucks this tight little pussy the way you do, sir."
It's a smile she hears in your voice when you say, "is that right? Go on then, let’s hear all the things you'd have me do to your slutty little cunt."
The line's crossed again, in some indecipherable direction. Where, again, exactly, does it matter? There are lines and lines, and none of them quite mark the beginning, the end, the periphery. This time you don't pull back; you dig deep, and it makes Yuna cry out like you’re killing her. Which, in a way - you already have.
So your hips stutter forward again, once more, and you lean into the slant, so fucking deep it's practically impaled. There’s nothing quite like holding this girl’s hips and pounding her from behind. Her pussy alone is fucking incredible. And the sound her ass makes against the flat of your stomach, the crease of your thighs - it's unimaginable, the way Yuna makes these little squeaks of a noise, like half-broken moans, when you fuck deep, deep, deeper into her. The way her arms splay wide and search frantic across your desk. And as you grab her slim, dainty wrist, pin it back and pull her tight - fixing her upright until you have her head lolling back against your chest - you simply fucking pound away.
Fucking all these little curses and sounds of appreciation out of her throat. Your cock forcing out each syllable, "yes," and "fuck," and "god, oh my fucking god - I cannot believe," now on repeat, how her tone grows tighter. How she moans - a lot, like something's being worked loose.
"Uh-uh," and you're holding her steady now, with one broad, strong hand at the back of her neck. "Keep telling me, and maybe I'll let you cum."
Your free hand finds purchase in her hair. Yuna's groan coming out pathetic and wanting, her mouth half open. You wrap her silky golden locks around your fist, her hair thread neatly through your fingers, and then give the slightest of yanks.
Christ, her pussy just fucking soaks onto you. Greedy. Needy.
"Shit," and Yuna gasps when she can, where she's allowed to.
"Oh, is my little girl into getting her hair pulled?" and you can see the signs of affirmation: the muscles inside her flexing, grasping you as you roll in, a small, soft nod, and the way she sighs your name, like a prayer on her lips.
Listen, she can barely speak, the way you're fucking her apart. Yuna's body is wound like a bow, like string and taught wire. Bent into the side of the desk and open for you, her pussy pulsing tight around you with every stroke.
"Sir, I'll do - whatever you need, just - just - let me have your cum, please -" and there, she's begging now, and her voice is tinny, breaking, breathless and airless.
Then it’s her fucking hair. You pull so much on it harder this time, with another measured thrust inside her, your body flush against her ass. Fingerprints searing down onto where her hips flare and taper, impossibly narrow.
You’re probably hurting her. You’re probably ruining her for anyone else - nothing will ever satiate her more than the way she sobs as your fingers twist tighter through her hair. Around her fucking miracle of a waist. It's an obscene sound that echoes down to your cock, as deep, hot and fucking filthy as her cries when she cums for the third, fourth?
"Just," Yuna barely makes, her eyelids heavy, her gaze flitting somewhere behind her. "Just look at you, fucking me so hard, filling up my tight little pussy, making me take everything your cock has to give. God, you love wrecking my perfect little hole, don't you?"
No, or yes, or probably. You’ll figure out the details later.
"God, I love it when you get real messy, when I get you like this-" your words run seamlessly into the searing heat between your bodies, like punctuation, like the end of days -
"Use me." She doesn't just say it. "Take me, and cum in me, wherever you want. Daddy, you can have my mouth, or, or, you can - you can finish inside me."
And god, you could, you really could: just the timbre of her voice does things to you, the way that it curls around the words daddy, and sir, and you're fucking me so goddamn good. She's saying them now, her whimpers breaking into outright moans and all: shit, please, please - you're gonna make me cum - oh - oh fuck! And when she's wound that tight, a quivering, sopping mess of a girl, you put your fingers against her clit, circling and pressing in tempo to the thrust of your cock.
The cruel metronome that makes. Hell, it fucking sends her.
She’s begging you to finish inside her. It's fucked up - and she knows it. She wraps her heels around the square of your back, and the tension rises, and rises, the coiled spring tight and waiting - just a push away, so you slam into her once, then twice more, the push of a hand splayed between her tits and your fingers digging into the muscle of her thigh. She wants you to cum in her pussy, fill her right up; she tells you that, again, that she wants it, and her voice is raspy, high. That she wants you now, as if she didn't before, and how does this compare, because she needs it now.
You hold out for just a little. You’re holding your breath. Just a little, just until Yuna’s eyelashes flutter open over her shoulder and she says your name, so sweetly, and says, "please, just, inside."
You shouldn't.
You can't.
So here, barely able to think at all, you end up doing the unthinkable - thinking all the while of pumping her right to the finish and draining your balls straight into the deepest reach of her cunt, how fucking tempting it may be - you muster an ounce of good judgment still adrift in a sea of lust. Your throbbing cock draws out of that wet, inviting heat and into your fist, and watch how that makes her begin to unspool: the way she tries to press her knees shut. She's sobbing for it, pleading, her lashes dark with tears. "No, no, fuck me, please, I'm begging you. Please, I'm going to be so good - god, please -"
You tug her back, look her in the eye, and let out a loud, shaky exhale. "Knees, princess."
She's too wracked with need to do anything other than comply. Her jaw drops. “But-”
"Mouth," you cut in, sharp enough that her gaze lifts, and you're right there - on the precipice, so close, watching her tongue dart out of her mouth to run across the swell of her bottom lip.
Watching her knees fold into the carpet, her stockings down loose around her thighs, her underwear hanging off an ankle. The rise and fall of her chest like rolling waves, and you can see her hands fisting on her knees, and her face: you watch the emotion flash over, like water on glass, and a moment is all it takes. She leans her face forward to your hand, as you wind her hair into your fist, her lips parted and her gaze lowered. She's obedient, taking the weight of your cock with her pretty pink mouth like the fucked-up-little-fantasy that she is, opening so nice and wide.
Her eyes flit up to yours, her mascara-ringed lashes fanned against the pink of her cheeks.
"My face," she tells you, or something close to it, "fuck my face. Go ahead, use it - cum all over me."
Your cock slides halfway home, her cheeks hollowing, and when it presses to the back of her throat, she gags. You curse and tip your head back, the wood of your desk digging into the flesh of your palm.
"What did you say," you half groan out. "Baby," you add, just for good measure, just to play along, "c'mon."
The tip of Yuna's tongue sweeps and swirls just beneath your cockhead, and she moans her answer around your length, lapping at a leak of precum. "I said," she's repeating now, her cheek brushing across your shaft, and you shudder. "Fuck, what I said was I want you to cum all over my face.
Jesus.
You bury your cock into her mouth once, twice. Let it sit there. Let her really struggle for it, the angle just a tad awkward from above. Let her lips stretch wide, and her shoulders shake a little - tears start to gather, pricking her eyes, her lipstick a mess, the way your cock fits, plugging up her throat so full. You hold her like that for just a second, a little less - until Yuna's moaning, the vibration low in her mouth, and her eyes flutter open, closed.
"Fuck," you spit out, and "perfect," and your voice is shot, your whole face warm, and you're going to cum on her - everywhere on her. Yuna, who’s been staring up at you in wide-eyed submission, gives you a little nod, like she means it.
Like she’s earned it.
And maybe she has: it only takes one last look to seal it - her hand curled around your cock, her cheek matted with her own spit and lipstick, the bright smudge of her own cum from the point of her chin to the cleft of her cupid's bow, and her eyes are locked on yours, eager and hot. Maybe she hasn't - and maybe you should make her beg, fuck her mouth some more - it's almost cruel, how she looks. A perfectly pretty picture, poised and pliant and waiting, and she's right there, beneath you, and fuck - this is so wrong, and you'll ruin her, you'll mark her up like this. She'll be painted like a work of art.
Your pulse thickens. Stands right up in your veins.
Then, your control, snapping: her pretty lashes flutter, her mouth gone slack, her jaw still tilted up like she expects a gift, an offering, her palm wrapped so nice and snug around the base of your cock, her expression dazed, and so easy, and perfect, so eager. You tilt your hips just a fraction further, and she fucking swallows, her tongue tracing the underside where you throb harder, heavier - her body lilting up as you press in so deep.
“God,” you breathe in, out. It hits hard. It hits fast. “Yuna-”
A tensing of your stomach coils up through like smoke, and your grip tightens on the edge of your desk, the other in her hair, a helpless, desperate thrusting, and there - it's a wonderful, brilliant sort of explosion, like light, the white-hot burn of a fever breaking. You cum all over her face and into her hair, spilling out streaks of hot, filthy white onto her sculpted features and the sweet line of her throat, and god, there's so much, she's taking it so easily, all her breathing hot and heavy and loud.
Her skin alabaster and porcelain; cotton and canvas; she lets you fucking paint her, all messy and ruined.
In fact she’s even smiling like she’s holding in a laugh, all gooey-soft with satisfaction, and you're jerking your cock slow through her slender fingers, even after there's nothing else left to give and every inch of her face is marked - the way she wears your cum like new skin. You feel the shockwave tear your nerves open, and then the calm, right on its heels, spreading out from your core to your fingertips, out through the roots of your hair.
"Ah," you exhale, a tight gasp. Yuna takes the entirety of you into her mouth, sucking down your length - harder - as she swallows back a final, sticky load, her own hair sweat-slick to her face.
Just look at the damage: that’s a story not even you’d be able to spin. There's cum on her nose, dribbling past her cheek. On her jaw and on her cheek. Filthy white streaked all over her parted lips, her neck. Down her shoulder blades, and soiling her hair, and leaking down past her collarbones.
(Christ, was this better or worse? You can't even tell. Every version of her that's been served on a plate for you has seen fit to make you sweat.)
When the dust begins to settle, you’re left panting and spent. Yuna, the collateral on this fine, whiny, disaster of a deal. A collection of photos, and some thoughts and ideas, that now sit disheveled on the ground. There's a scathing voice inside your head that's demanding to be heard, reminding you all-too-casually that this is not any way to manage a client. She could snap her fingers, call out to that sycophant at the top floor, and your career would be over - she could do anything she should ever desire.
You know, on a baser level, this, and worse: the duality of the thought. Her tight cunt on your desk, you on your knees; the sharp gasp you can steal from the top of her throat, perhaps when she feels the gentle pressure of teeth around one rosy nipple. The pinch of your thumb and index finger around the other. Her nails down your back in ten angry lines, and the throb in her throat, while you slide the whole width of a hand, rough, over the flesh of her ass.
Maybe the desk, like everything else, can just join the pile on the floor.
"Yuna," you say, the vowels pitching like a sigh.
Her palms find the sharp crease in your pants and slide upward. She's gazing up at you, bright, her face sticky with you.
"You can't send me out like this," she tells you, matter-of-factly, letting a smile cross the lines of her lips - or a smirk. A wordless extension of the previous sentence - of a few.
You pull out and away from her: a white and gray dotted tie hanging loose, unknotted; a button still fastened somewhere mid-center, your trousers pulled off and loose down just below your knees, the fly gaping open. She's in a similar state, the cups of her bra slipping loose, her mouth flushed, lips swollen and red, the outline of how she’d let you use her in a smeary, runny stain across her cheek.
"Maybe let your manager know," you tell her, pulling your belt in place, and you think you catch her eye rolling. "That you're going to be late."
Yuna doesn't hesitate.
"Tell her yourself," she responds, "I'm sure she'll be relieved to hear I'm not actually dead - just having gotten fucked stupid on my PR person's cock."
"I might forget to include a couple details."
"You shouldn’t." Her eyebrows jump. And she's chewing, lazily, on the full curve of her lower lip, her teeth glinting like razors. "Here, before you throw all this to the sharks -"
So, so very dramatic, and with this: her thumbnail pressed beneath your chin. It draws your gaze up - up, and down: from the splay of her legs and the gleam of wetness between them, a brief rest along the arcs of her chest - the room's a total fucking wreck. Your necktie, her skirt, her blouse, her pantyhose. The papers and books all spread, bent, broken, the stack knocked clean onto its side. The skirt's probably still pulled too far up her hips for decency, her breasts shoved up to her neck and the collarbone, and then there's her face - her chin streaked with cum. Yuna smiles then, the corner of her mouth pulled upward.
She might kiss her if you'd let her.
Cum on her lips be damned, she's beautiful like that, like she isn't even trying. And in fact, she never really had to - this girl, she'd do it alone. The idea that someone could be as universally loved as she, is enough, a marvel even, but here she is in front of you, every atom and curve a siren, a study in perfection and composition. Like she’s not just all your mistakes laid out to bear.
"Take a second to take a proper look, hm? Get all the memories in, while they're fresh."
"Because?"
"You can remember I'm only the person you say I am, for you."
"You can remember I'm only who you say I am, for you."
"Oh, of course," and the laugh that leaves your throat sounds dry, cracked open. The band of her skirt stretches, snaps back, so neatly that it leaves a pale line on her flesh. And now there are your hands, fitting around her hipbones, a sigh: a short, sudden motion, tugging her up. Yuna gasps: something surprised, delighted. She's all grins and teeth, all clean, bright incisors. 
"Mine," you're breathing, the flat of her stomach underneath the fingers you've placed upon it. "This is mine - you. Yours - you're all mine."
It’s possessive, but, you’re not all incorrect.
"Yeah," she more than agrees. 
There's a ribbon-taut quality in the way it leaves her mouth, the tension in her body coiled up through to the bones. She makes it sound like the beginning of a promise, the beginning of something much larger.
And by the way." She’s still buttoning her shirt. Putting herself together. You’ve seen the triage, the damage control. This is the Yuna you get. 
So, she needs the second - a respite to lick a stray stripe of slick and cum off her wrist - blotting her cheeks with a ball of wet tissue, until all that's left is the smeared lipstick, her stockings splayed around the floor. The pattern you've worn, where your fingerprints would've shown, gets covered up under her skirt and her coat, wrapped up in a scarf.
The smug satisfaction in her tone pulls your focus, just in time, her hair's falling in waves down her shoulders - perfect, but not flawless: there's a creased line, a hint of her throat, just beneath the collar. There's a slight wisp out of place. The buttons aren't arranged all the way from her collar to her sternum.
"I'm going to go with that photoset, with the white top, in the sand - gonna post 'em online and generate some buzz. You even said it yourself: they're fine. " She pauses, pushing away a strand of hair. "Professionally, of course."
"Professionalism." You smile. "Of course."
She walks out carrying the stilettos: pumps in either hand.
"Always. Catch you soon," she promises, and you do catch a last flash of her expression, lips parted, the lower curving into a satisfied smile, right as she flicks the lock on the door open and your office goes back to quiet.
For a split second, it's unbearable: the silence.
And you think again.
She can have anything, get any boy, girl, whoever, any designer, photographer, make-up artist in the world; there's something so unmistakably intoxicating about the fact that the thing she's decided she wants, is you.
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Text
Faux Love, Real Hearts
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: You and Spencer must pose as a couple for a mission. However, one question remains: why does he keep calling you 'love'?
Genre: smut
Warning: talking about a criminal case, making out, fake dating (let me know if I forgot something)
Word Count: 882 words
A/N: As always, any criticism is very welcome. Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. English is not my first language. 
Anyway, enjoy :)
✧ 🎀 -------------------------------------------------------------- 🎀 ✧
You blushed yesterday, you blushed today and you most definitely will blush tomorrow. You simply will never get used to his soft voice whispering: “Sorry, love.” 
 As he calmly brushes past you. You will never get used to his rough hands brushing against your skin from time to time. You will never get used to his soft backrubs or his light kisses against your forehead. Perhaps it’s better this way. If you’re used to his permanent presence your heart would break into two when this mission ends. When all of this ends. Every day you’re hoping that the mission is continued another day, just to be with him. And for a certain time, it did work; until it didn’t anymore.
For more than a year, you have been working in the Behavioral Unit (BAU) department of the FBI. As an aspiring Agent, you are willing to do anything to save people. The team welcomed you warmly, always helping you where they could since you were the youngest member. You feel safe because you know they will always have your back. Yet nothing could have prepared you for your latest mission. The mission where you and Spencer had to fake a romantic relationship. Spencer was a good boyfriend; a fake one sadly.
This unsub is targeting young couples, so the team decided you and Spencer would be the best ones to fit his victimology. Quickly you move into a fake house that isn’t yours; drive a fake car and act like a fake couple deeply in love with each other.
“Are you ready to go to bed, darling?”, shouted Spencer down from your shared bedroom.
It was a comfortable room with a carpeted floor and a large king-size bed. Oh, how you loved this bed; nevertheless, nothing compares to sleeping beside Spencer. Your sleep quality improving enormously. Maybe Spencer has to do with it...
Without answering you went up, already in your pyjamas ready to get a good night’s sleep in. Today you search through lots of recordings in hopes of finding a lead in the case; Spencer of course helping you, but how could anybody read faster than Reid himself? You collapse onto the bed, feeling utterly exhausted. The slender nerdy boy, with his thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, is deeply engrossed in his book. Every now and then, he looks up from his reading, his bright eyes shining with a gentle smile that warms your heart.
“You must be absolutely tired, love.”
“God, yeah,” you laugh awkwardly. A strange silence surrounded them.
“Come here,” he opened his arms gesturing her to come closer. 
She found herself in a state of confusion, uncertain of what to do next. As she lay there, she couldn't help but feel drawn towards Reid's comforting presence. She knew that cuddling with him would be unprofessional, but his warm embrace felt like a safe haven that she longed to be in. The conflicting thoughts in her mind left her feeling torn and indecisive, so she stayed where she was.
Since she didn’t come closer, he decided to drew closer to her. His hot breath tickled her neck as he whispered against her ears sending shivers down her spine: "You know we have to act like a real couple, you want to catch this unsub, don’t you?”  
She gulped silently. Of course, she wanted to catch this motherfucker who’s been killing around D.C., however, all she could think right now was how close Spencer was and how his hot breath felt amazing against her neck. 
“Spencer…,” was the only thing she could whisper back.
His hands grip her waist lovingly, bringing her closer to him.
“Tell me what you want me to do,” he murmured against her hair, kissing the top of her head softly.
Another gulp. Feeling hot all over her body, you tried to think a straight thought, but how can you think rationally when a hot FBI agent's body is nearly pressed against yours? Particularly Spencers hot body.
“Kiss me, Spencer.”
Without a second of hesitation, he crashed his lips against yours. Like a starved man, his kiss was impatient and rough, in contrast to the delicate touch of his hands all over your body. You could feel his warm big hands exploring every inch of your body. Oh, how good it felt.
“Fuck, I wanted to do this since day one,” he cursed against your lips before softly biting them. His tongue teased your lips, wanting to enter your mouth. Gently you open your lips and your and his tongue dance together. His soft lips moved their way down to your jaw, then your neck where they stayed for a bit, nibbling at your flesh. You reached for his curls, gripping them which he responded with a moan. 
“If I had to act like this stupid fake couple thing again I would absolutely, do it, just to taste your sweet lips, love.” He smiled against your neck.
“Wait,” you pushed him a bit away from you, “you don’t enjoy this fake dating?”
He took a deep breath. Panic started washing over you. Of course, he wouldn't like your back, what do you think? 
"No". His angelic voice brought you back from your negative thoughts: “I would like more if we were dating real.”
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yuyusboyfriend · 8 months
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Good Boy ✧.
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roommate!yunho drives me crazy bro...
pairing: roommate!yunho x gn!reader
wordcount: 1,7k
content: helping your roommate with a hard problem...
warnings: nsfw, pet names (tiny, baby, good boy), handjob, cum eating, dirty talk (?), lots of praise, sub!yunho dom!reader (lmk if I missed anything)
comments and reblogs appreciated <3
masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
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When you usually walk through the door after a long day of classes, you'd hear your roommate, yunho, crashing around in the kitchen cooking up something for you both to eat once you got home. Sometimes he would be in his room playing valorant, shouting down the mic to his friend group telling mingi to step up his game -
Tonight? There's no noise. Atleast that's what it seemed like, until you hear a sniffle coming from the corridor as you place your shoes by the door. "is....is he crying?" you whisper to yourself as if the house was going to answer back. As you drop your bag on the counter and take small steps towards your roommates room, all you hear is shuffling, followed by the squeaks of a bedframe.
"No....is someone here with him?", your heart sank at the thought. Not that you had shared this with anyone but your close friend, woo, but some time after yunho moved in, you started having....dreams... about him. At first they were innocent, like playing games and having movie nights, but after the first few you noticed they became more...sexual. The first night you jumped in horror, filled head to toe with guilt and a hotter feeling you couldn't put into words, but grateful that your yelp didn't wake up the boy on the other side of the wall. When he stroked your arm that morning, a normal gesture between the two of you (at least usually), you jumped out of your skin and flinched away from him.
"You okay, tiny?" concern in his voice hitting your ears mixing with the guilt in your head.
"Sorry, yeah im good, just no sleep", you pulled your best fake smile despite all the questions running through your head; why the skin on your arm where yunhos hand formerly was feel like it was burning up? Why was your heart racing so fast? Why did the droplets on yunho's face and neck from the reminence of his shower make your throat feel like the Sahara desert?
"Were you up playing ac with seonghwa again? I told him to not keep you up late anymore, I'm gonna message him aga-"
"It's okay, yunho, seonghwa was probably fast asleep, it was just too....cold", You cut his worrying off with the lamest excuse you could think of. After that encounter, every touch yunho initiated, every time he jumped into your bed when he was bored, or wrapped his arms around you when he put his hoodie on you, made your whole body heat like you had swallowed the sun. You wondered if he did it on purpose, if he knew the control he had over your heart rate....
..."I guess not." You held back an aching tear at the prospect of yunho having someone on his bed that wasn't you. You silently begged the stars that it wasn't the case as you creeped closer to his room. one step. Two steps. You noticed the door was cracked open. three steps.
"y/n please.."
What? did he just say y/n? you stop just short of his door to process what you just heard. Were you hallucinating? was the stress of school and your crush finally getting to your head to the point you think you heard yunho say-
"fuck, y/n please." he says again, this time a litre of desperation in his gravelly voice apparent. He was practically panting out your name in what sounded like frustration, his breaths shaky and uneven.
You took another step forward, finally standing in his doorframe to add a visual to what you've been hearing. Holy fuck.
Yunho splayed out on his bed gripping the sheets with one hand and furiously rocking his hips into the other. His hoodie, once held between his teeth, now pathetically shifting over his sensitive skin making him harder, if it was even possible.
His tip looked red and angry to say the least, his skin was glistening from sweat and he could barely keep his eyes open. How long had he been at this for?
You realise you've been standing here, perving over your unknowing roommate, but as you attempt to step away from the scene of the crime to try and forget what you've witnessed (even though you know this will fuel your dreams for the next month) you felt your keys slip out of your previously suffocating grip.
With a loud clash, no thanks to your 80 keychains, you let out a panicked squeak and yunho jumped to cover himself on the bed at the noise, till he realises what just happened.
"Y/n it's not- I'm-" he tries to get the words out but after his body had been working in overdrive, nothing made sense.
"Sorry yunho, I didn't see anything!" you yelped out as you tried to turn around and run to your own room, but a firm grip on your arm turns you back to yunho.
He was disheveled and had barely managed to put himself back into his sweatpants, the friction excruciating on his aching tip. God, he looked angelic, his hood still over his head covering his sweat drenched hair, and overshadowing the deep red on his cheeks and ears. His eyes darting to look everywhere but yours, eventually settling on your lips.
"y/n...I need... please help me." he whispered while rubbing circles into your arm, scared for your answer.
"sit." Your shaky voice betraying your attempt at being assertive. Nonetheless, yunho walks backward till he falls back, you following in tow.
He's already whimpering at you sitting down and straddling one of his legs as you start to pull his grey sweats down just enough once again.
"god.." You think. He looked big before when he was stroking himself, and you always suspected he was packing by the indent in his towel after showers, but seeing it up close was a game changer.
"think about my size later y/n, please it hurts.." He whimpers out, making you realise you had said it out loud. Putting your embarrasment aside, you brush your thumb down the underside of his dick till you reach the base, where you wrap your whole hand (barely, his girth was just as impressive) and squeeze a little, testing the waters. He cried out in pleasure from your touch, begging for more, and rutting his hips up best he can - in the process giving you some friction making your mind a little fuzzy.
You worked your hand up and down his angry cock turning him into a blubbering mess. Yunho was so overwhelmed by the sensations his brain had short-circuited and all he could blubber out between was "baby please", "y/n fuck, ah", "tiny nnghh".
"am I making you feel good, yuyu?" you asked with a sultry voice and hooded eyes. You could die a happy person right now if this is the last thing you see. God, yunho was in such state, sticky glistening skin looking edible.
"Yuyu. Answer me baby, or I'll stop." You teased, not even sure you'd be able to stop if you tried.
"baby yes yes please god fuck tiny im so close." He huffed out while vigorously nodding his head. What a sweet boy - too bad you couldn't help teasing him a little more. You slowed down the pace making him whine and cry out a symphony of pleads. Music to your ears, you don't know how you lived your whole life without this.
"please tiny, I'll be good please, let me cum" he cried, his voice breaking.
"you sound so pretty like this yuyu... you're such a good boy." His dick leaked precum and twitched in your palm at the pet names, something you'd keep in mind for a later date. You sped your pace back up again and started nibbling on his burning earlobe, making him cry out whatever was coming to his fucked out brain.
"I'm your good boy ah, tiny, please-" and another string of curses and whimpers. You could tell by his tightening grip on you that he was close. He could feel the knot in his stomach getting tighter, ready to snap.
"be a good boy and cum for me, yuyu."
Thats all it took for his whole body to tense up, cum spurting out of his cock in ropes, reaching your face and soaking your hand. He slumped against your shoulder from exhaustion and euphoria as you pumped your hand around him once more, letting him ride out his high.
"y/n," Yunho shot his head up with a sorry expression now that the brain fog had cleared. "I'm so sorry I didn't mean to drag you into thi-" before he could finish, you distracted his train of thought by wiping the cum off of your cheek, and experimentally licking the tip of your finger. A little salty but surprisingly sweet? Before giving him a peck on the cheek to see where his head was at.
He watched in awe as you put his cum on the tip of your tongue, nearly eliciting a second orgasm from him just at the sight. When you pulled away from his cheek a dark blush covered his ears and face, and his round eyes filled with shock that you didn't hate him after that, guilt fading with every millisecond.
His eyes locked with your plump lips before pulling you in to join his. Your mouths molded together as though they were made for eachother, and you swiped your tongue along his bottom lip asking for access. Of course he slipped his tongue into your mouth and kissed you like a starved man, biting your lip and caressing your jaw. After minutes of claiming his mouth you finally broke away for air.
with a glint in your eye looking into his, "So, how you going to repay me yuyu?"
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my first fic 😭😭😭 this was suppose to just be drabble but man ....... I love yunho
this isn't proofread or anything so sorry for any mistakes❤️‍🩹
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faintedlcve · 6 months
Text
False Fronts
part 1 of 4
Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader
Warnings: fake dating, arguing, not proof read and my writing 😔
Summary: Being asked to fake date someone to get a petty ex off their back is the worst possible way of being friend-zoned. You, however, were willing to take any chances to get as close as you could to Theodore Nott.
there will most definitely be a part 2
i will absolutely credit @berryzxx for helping me and giving me ideas for this haha
sorry if anyone's name is Jess ily i swear mwah <;33
he's such a cutie tehe
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4: fluff angst
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You were going about your usual business, wandering the empty corridors of Hogwarts. The prospect of Defense Against the Dark Arts class, particularly with Umbridge as the professor, filled you with dread. Determined to delay your arrival as much as possible, you lingered, reluctant to head to your lesson.
As you strolled through the corridors, distant murmurs reached your ears. Tracing their origin, the faint echoes evolved into a heated dispute—a boy and a girl embroiled in a passionate disagreement. Step by step, you closed the distance until their fervent voices became distinct and clear.
"Look, Jess, it's over. O-V-E-R." You could hear the boy say to someone who you could only assume was called Jess.
"But I don't want it to be over! I still love you! Please, I'm sorry!" The girl, presumably Jess, begged.
"Well, you should've thought of that before you went and cheated on me." His response cut through the air, chilling in its icy tone, sending unwelcome shivers down your spine. Whoever he was, his disdain for Jess was palpable. His voice was unmistakable, you having heard it all your life. You knew who it was.
He sauntered off, leaving both Jess and you dumbfounded. Peeking around the corner to catch a glimpse of the boy, you inadvertently crashed into the very person—Theodore Nott—you were trying to observe.
As you collided with Theodore Nott, his demeanor shifted from the tense confrontation to one of mild surprise, his dark eyes locking with yours in an unexpected encounter. You stumbled back a step, catching your breath as you met his gaze, both of you momentarily stunned by the abrupt intersection.
"Y/N," Theodore uttered your name, a flicker of recognition dancing across his features before settling into a composed mask. "Sorry about that. Didn't see you there."
Your mind raced, trying to process the scene you'd just witnessed. His confrontation with Jess seemed far more serious than a typical teenage quarrel. Sensing your curiosity, Theodore's expression shifted a glint of something unreadable in his eyes.
"Listen," he started, his voice lowering to a hushed tone as if sharing a secret. "I need a favor, and I think you might be the perfect solution."
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, unsure where this conversation was heading. Theodore hesitated for a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing.
"Jess won't leave me alone. She's been causing a scene ever since things ended between us. I need... I need someone to help me out, to pretend to be with me, just to get her off my back. It's purely for appearances, nothing more."
His request hung in the air, unexpected and oddly intriguing. Theodore Nott, asking for your assistance in a situation as serious as this. You weighed his words, contemplating the implications of what he proposed, your mind swirling with questions about why he'd chosen you for such a peculiar task.
"Please. I'll ask nothing more of you. Just some PDA. Slight touches, whatever you're comfortable with."
The allure of being close to him warred with the fear of playing a role in a situation that could easily spin out of control. Yet, despite the inner turmoil, a glimmer of hope danced in your chest—an opportunity to be near Theodore, even if it was only as part of a facade.
You'd been friends with Theo for what felt like forever. He trusted you, and that meant a lot. Sure, there was that fear of being stuck in the friend zone, but when you thought about it, the chance to help him seemed more important. He wanted this, and he was your friend. So, yeah, you wanted to be there for him.
After a moment's hesitation, you gathered your resolve and nodded in agreement, your voice surprisingly steady despite the fury of emotions raging within you. "Alright, Theodore. I'll help you out."
A flicker of relief crossed Theodore's face, a barely perceptible shift in his expression that hinted at gratitude. "Thank you, Y/N. I owe you one."
As the weight of your decision settled in, you couldn't help but wonder about the implications of what you'd just agreed to. Theodore's proposal was both thrilling and nerve-wracking, and the realization that you were about to embark on a fake relationship with someone you genuinely cared for made your heart race with both anticipation and anxiety.
Theodore glanced around, as if to ensure no one else was nearby, before leaning in closer. "Let's meet later today and discuss how we're going to pull this off, alright? Preferably somewhere private."
Nodding in agreement, your mind raced with a million questions, but you managed to offer a reassuring smile. "Sure, Theodore. I'll be there."
As he walked away, you were left standing there, your mind spinning. The whole idea was thrilling, but it also felt like stepping onto a rollercoaster without knowing the twists and turns ahead. For now, all you could do was wait and meet up with Theodore and realise the depths of the situation you just put yourself into.
Either way, this fake dating thing just became your reality, and you had no clue where it would lead.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。*:☆
hello, hi! read part 2 here :))
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rimunagenius · 20 days
Text
Off Day
ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x Roommate!reader
ʚ word count: 2.6k words
ʚ warnings: RPF!! angst, creepy!stalker-ish!classmate, harassment, some fluff at the end
ʚ ri speaks: okay so i literally just dropped part one and the masterlist and right after i literally wrote this part! i literally pulled this series out of my ass last night…pardon my french. so i finished the masterlist and first part last night and so far, the feedback im getting is really good so…yay!☺️ anyways, this part is a little dark? but trustttt it will be resolved soon.
Part 2
| Series Masterlist |
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You desperately wanted to crawl back into bed, get back under the cool covers, and just lie there until the world ended. Or until Kate got home. Either way, you wanted to be anywhere but class.
Something about today was so off. You woke up and did your routine like any normal day. Kate left earlier than you but came back right before you left. You left her breakfast or lunch, whatever she decided to classify it as on the counter, and said you'd see her later at practice. That was 3 hours ago.
But today you had an exam in your anatomy class. This class was easy but you just did not want to be there because of Nick. Ever since a couple of days ago when you told Kate what went down between him and Gabbie, he's been relentless in getting the details of "your and Kate's relationship." You didn't want to tell him it wasn't Kate because you'd rather have to pretend to date her than anyone in California. Especially the girls you knew.
Something about Nick was off so you weren't going to pick a random girl in your following on Instagram. Knowing him, he'd probably stalk the poor woman. You just wanted to skip this class altogether. You hoped this line in the coffee shop on campus would move faster to possibly find a seat where other people could fill in around you before he could.
"Hey!" You turned your head, pulled one airpod out of your ear, and smiled at the brunette next to you. Her name was Juliana and you had class with her in like ten minutes.
"Oh, my god, hi!" You put the AirPod back in its case, abandoning the tranquility for the rest of whatever conversation was going to ensue.
"Not to be nosy or get in your business, and I really don't want to make you uncomfortable, but that guy over there keeps staring at you." She pointed her finger, subtly, in the direction behind her. You got to be fucken kidding…Nick. "He's been saying things to people in anatomy, saying you guys are talking, and how he doesn't like how you're too close to Kate. Or something like that, it's all unclear. But I found it weird and thought you should know." Her face looked genuinely concerned. Her eyes went soft as she looked at your expression change from friendly to somewhat terrified.
"Oh, my god. Thanks for telling me. I don't even know him. He's asked me out a couple of times but I rejected him. Who is he telling? Do a lot of people know?" You asked her. Your hands started to get clammy, as you started to move to the pick-up counter, your name being called; your drink ready.
"I honestly have no idea, but if anyone asks just tell them you're in a relationship." Juliana suggested, unsure of how to handle the whole situation.
"Yeah, I thought he'd leave me alone when my friend Gabbie had said I was seeing someone already. He automatically assumed it was my best friend Kate." You really thought this was behind you. This was probably the bad feeling you've been feeling all day.
"Oh, so you're not dating Kate?" Juliana asked, her face lightening up.
"No, but she said she was okay with going along with it to keep him away from me. Why? You like her?" You had no idea she swung that way. She usually talked about boy drama whenever you guys did group work in your class.
"Uh, no. But if she decides to start seeing someone and needs to drop the whole "fake girlfriend" thing, you can definitely ask me. I'm happy to help." She smiled warmly at you. You were very grateful for her willingness to help.
"Oh, okay. Thank you so much!" Her friend then called her over, and you both said goodbye. You had already made it to your class. Juliana keeping you company the whole way. You walked in and took a seat, pulling out your phone. You figured you could text Kate and let her know that if Juliana was willing to help, you'd relieve her of her duties. You also wanted to catch her up on what the hell went down in the coffee shop.
"you will not believe what just happened..."
almost instantly, her response bubble popped up.
"omg, what?"
"a friend in my anatomy class came up to me in better buzz and told me some guy was staring at me"
"what guy? are you okay?"
"and the guy was Nick!"
"oh..."
"apparently he's telling people me and him are talking but doesn't like how me and you are so close"
"wtf. are you serious?"
"did you tell her that me and u were together?"
"ab that...she said she would be down to be my "girlfriend" if I needed it. so I was thinking I would just tell ppl that me n her are together, so that way you're not dragged into this mess lol"
"Oh."
"okay for sure."
"I gtg. I'll see you later at practice!"
"alright, see you later. love you!"
" 'bear <3 loved "alright, see you later. love you!" "
Usually, she said it back. You, Kate, and all the girls got in the habit of saying 'love you' to one another because it was true. You all loved each other so dearly. None of you had shame in how you felt about one another and how close you held each other to your hearts. But you just decided to brush it off, she was probably just super busy. 
You honestly had no idea why your mind told you to read into everything she's been saying and texting you, lately. I was seriously getting unhealthy with how much you worried about what she thought about you. You were lost in thought before someone took a seat next to you. Assuming it was Juliana because she was just outside with her friends, you turned to tell her that if she was down to be your "girlfriend." You were pretty startled to see it wasn't her but Nick instead. 
"So, how have you been?" He asked. Something about him seemingly so off. You didn't like the feeling you got around him at all. You noticed his gaze following you out of the shop with Juliana ten minutes ago. You looked around the room, the spots in the class filling up quickly. You saw Juliana walk in, but before you could get her attention, Nick moved into your line of sight and prevented anyone from coming between you two. 
"Uh, good?" You looked down at your phone trying to find anything to keep you looking as uninterested as possible. 
"That's it? Nothing else to say to me?" He seemed to be growing more irritable with the short responses. 
"I don't know what you want me to say, I didn't want to talk to you anyway." You looked at him, wishing he'd go away. You didn't want to say it out loud and catch the attention of everyone around you. 
"Oh, now that's not nice. That's no way to talk to your boyfriend." He said, a weird smile encroaching on his lips. You did not like this at all. You were genuinely starting to get scared. You pulled up Juliana's number, thankful you asked for it last week so you could send her the notes she missed. 
"911. he's starting to really freak me out." 
You sent the message and immediately Nick asked who you had been texting. "Can you please, for the love of god, leave me alone? I'm seeing someone." The smirk on his face dropped, a cold stare being directed right at you. 
"No, you're not. You're seeing me." 
"No, she's not you creep. She's my girlfriend." Juliana then sat on the opposite side of you, staring Nick down. Nick's face flushed, his eyes looking at a few people who had turned around to see what was going on. She placed a hand on your leg.
It wasn't long after your exam and when the class was dismissed that Nick approached you again. He tried to talk to you, you just want to get straight to the Carver stadium. No students that weren't on the team or staff weren't allowed in. You just needed to get there as quickly as possible. 
"Hey! Stop ignoring me." Nick semi-shouted at you. You had put both airpods in, trying to tune him out. It wasn't until he tried to grab your arm and pull you back from walking away from him that you turned around ready to blow up before your saving grace came up to both of you. 
"Hey, man! Watch the fuck out. I don't know who you think you are but you are not gonna put your hands on my friend like that. Not like that, not now, and not ever." Hannah, with the hand she had placed on his arm to throw it off you, pushed him back a little before putting her arm around your shoulder and walking away from him. "That was fucking weird. You know that guy?" She looked back to see if he was still there, and indeed he was. Watching you both walk in the direction towards the arena. 
"No, actually. He's a fucking creep who asked me out a couple of times and took it horribly. He's been harassing me for a little. He was staring at me while I was getting coffee before my class like two hours ago." You said, calming down significantly since Hannah showed up. But your stomach was still uneasy and you really did not want to go to that class tomorrow or ever until he was gone and far away from Iowa City. 
"Yeah, don't walk around campus alone anymore. I'll come to find you after every—what class is this?" 
"Anatomy." 
"Okay, after every one of your anatomy classes, I'll come to find you and we can go to practice together. Do you have friends that know what classes you have and can walk you?" Now that you think about it, Juliana was in a lot of your classes. She wanted to do nursing so most classes you had in the week, were with her. 
"Yeah, funny story. The girl that's pretending to be my girlfriend to keep that guy away, which he obviously doesn't give a damn about, is in a lot of my classes. And it works out because the ones she's not in, Kate takes me because they're on her way." You smiled at the tall girl, grateful. 
"Okay, good. I don't want you getting stalked and possibly worse because of that guy. You should report him before it gets too bad." Hannah suggested, and rightfully so. 
"Yeah, I will. Thanks again, Hannah."
The girls' practice was going well. Until it wasn't. 
"Hey, you got a minute?" You were organizing gauze and wraps in the med bag behind the bench before you looked up and saw Kate holding her nose. 
"Yes, of course, Kate. Another one?" You looked at the girl as she walked around the bench and you handed her a towel. She broke her nose every year, you and Caitlin swore on it. You grabbed some gauze squares and put them in each nostril, to absorb as much blood as possible before you completely ruined the towel. 
"Don't tilt your head back. It could cause clots." You knew she already knew that with how prone Kate was to bloody noses. But it never hurts to refresh her mind, as it is instinct to stop the bleeding. 
"Yeah, thanks." You and Kate stood there while the bleeding stopped. "Alright, I think I'm good." She said a small smile on her face. You saw some blood on her shirt, grabbing the small bottle of peroxide in the bag, and a small gauze pad, you tried to soak as much of it out so it was easier for her when she did laundry. Suddenly your phone started buzzing. A new notification every second. 
"Jeez, who is blowing up your phone?" Kate asked, as she looked at your screen lighting up and watching the notifications pop up one by one.
"I don't know. Can you check?" You asked as you tried to get the last spot of blood off her clothes. 
"It's Instagram. Someone named Nick? Is it that same Nick guy Hannah said harassed the fuck out of you today?" She set your phone down. Your stomach immediately churning. You were honestly getting the creeps. 
"Oh my god. She told you?" You asked as you looked into Kate's eyes. Both of yours mirroring each other. The same worried look. 
"Yeah, and I'm glad she did. You need to say something. Or I can if you're not comfortable." Kate suggested. Now six more new notifications popped up, all from Nick. "I'll block him for you." She said, picking up your phone but stopping to look at you. Her eyes silently asking if that was okay with you.
"Yeah, please." You sighed as you threw the gauze squares away, putting the peroxide back before watching Kate block Nick. On your main and spam account. You have no idea how he found you; your name isn’t in the usernames. You really should go private and change your message settings. "Alright lemme check your nose though, to make sure it's not broken." There was absolutely no need to do this. You knew it was probably just a simple elbow or ball to the face. You both would've known if it was broken. 
"Alright." She sat on the bench, signature manspread. Good lord. You stood between her legs, putting pressure on different parts of her nose, checking for any indication of pain. It was a little tender but that was obvious, and so was you making an excuse to keep Kate a little longer. I mean, could she blame you? You haven't seen her much in the last couple of days. Late practices you missed for studying for your exam, her leaving earlier than you and by the time you get home she's either asleep or visiting her nephew. You missed your best friend.
You could see her looking at you as you checked. Your eyes meet once or twice, small giggles escaping your lips every time. Her eyes dropping to your lips occasionally, watching your tongue poke out a little as you focused on the task at hand. That made her giggle too. "Okay, bear. You're good." You kissed the top of her head and patted her shoulder before she stood up and ran back to the court. 
"If I roll my ankle, do I get a cute nickname and a kiss too?" Caitlin shouted as she pretended to throw herself on the ground. You laughed at her antics loudly before nodding your head and yelling yes. You laughed harder as she pretended to limp towards you. 
"Yeah, I'm gonna need like ten kisses to make this unbearable pain go away."  She fakes winced as she took a seat in the spot Kate was previously in, resting her "injured" foot on the chairs next to her. 
"Oh for sure, Cait." You laughed.
Suddenly, Sydney, Kylie, Jada, and Gabbie, hobbled over pretending to be injured to get their kisses too. "You need one too, Coach Bluder?" You shouted after you made your way through half the lineup. You made the assistant coaches laugh, including Coach herself. The practice was better after that, but you just couldn't shake the events from today off. 
Maybe another movie night with Kate would fix this. A lot of ice cream must be eaten tonight. Just one night, peaceful, and Nick free.
266 notes · View notes
blvckqwz · 10 months
Text
Officer Grimes (SMUT)
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TWs: smut duh, teasing, a lot of teasing actually, sexual tension, semi-public sex kinda?, brat reader, switch Rick, age gap (reader is 21 and Rick is 38), alcohol use, Shane slander (as I should), mention of cheating (Lori), sassy reader, dirty thoughts, Rick is technically still married oops, season 2 era, it’s like 99% flirting and 1% smut sorry. Also this sucks since it's my first smut sorry again.
Rick knew deep down, really deep down, that he was a sick man, meeting you was just the confirmation. It all started a few weeks ago, when he and his group had just arrived at the farm. At first he only saw glimpses of you, whispering in your sister’s ear and giggling with her as you two watched the new group, or helping around the farm, sweat running down your neck to under your shirt, making Rick’s head spin. But you never spoke to him, to much of his disappointment. Well that was until two weeks before…
“Dude, Maggie’s sister is totally into you.” Glenn said, whispering to the sheriff as they walked to the makeshift camp they had built a few days before.
“What?” Rick asked in disbelief as his eyes landed on you, chatting with Maggie while sitting on the front porch “She’s too young for me.”
Glenn shrugged, replying, “Maggie said she turned 21 last month but whatever you say.” before walking past him to Maggie, waving to her.
"Really?" He murmured as his eyes scanned you, already watching him as you sent a small smirk to him, followed by an almost imperceptible wink. 
But oh boy he surely did notice it.
Glenn must have said something about his talk with him to you because since then your attempts to flirt with the police officer had become more bold, making the poor man every day more frustrated.
“Good morning Officer Grimes.” You said with a cheeky smile as he walked past you and Beth. “Good morning Y/N,” He replied, trying to sound as cool as he could.
Your eyes kept following his figure as he walked away, eating him with your eyes until Beth elbowed you, “Are you trying to get in his pants?” She asked in disbelief, whispering-yelling in case your father or someone else happened to hear you. 
“So?” You ask with a nonchalant smirk, “I think he’s hot.” You admitted, making your sister giggle. 
“Isn’t he also like 40?” She said, shaking her head, “And what if Daddy finds out?” 
“Well first of all he can’t find out what no one knows, and I’m sure you’ll keep your secret,” You said, waiting for Beth to nod, “And second I think older men are better.” You continued with a shrug as you closed your eyes, enjoying the sun shining on your skin. “What?” She laughs, “I can’t believe you just said that!” “Well,” You reply with a grin, “I’m sure he can do things Jimmy couldn’t dream of.” “Y/N!” Beth exclaimed with a fake shocked face as she lightly pushed you as you laughed.
If only you knew how right you were…
Rick was reaching his last strike, he realized as he whipped his hand on his pants, trying to erase the tension as he watched you return home from a supply run, riding your horse like you had done multiple times before. God he wondered if you would look as good as you did right now while riding him instead of a stupid horse. 
By now he had picked all her habits and routine, as creepy as it might sound. For example he knew how she would sneak out the house every night, disappearing between the trees before returning hours later, when the sun was almost ready to rise. He also knew about the whisky bottles that were coincidentally disappearing with you. The only thing that was still a mystery was what you did during the night with those bottles. Did you have a secret boyfriend? He hoped not, only the thought of you with any other men made his blood boil. He knew it wasn’t right, he hardly ever spoke to you, a miserable attempt to hide what he was truly feeling, but he was jealous as hell.
“Hello Officer.” You winked as you approached him, making his Adam’s apple shake. “You don’t have to call me like that, it's not like I’m a police officer anymore.” He said with a breathless laugh, “You can just call me Rick.” “Really?” You ask with a brow raised and a half grin, “Then why do you always seem so tense? Like you’re always ready to arrest someone or stuff like that.” You say, nonchalantly touching his shoulder as you talk, making his mind go blank and his pants feel tighter. 
“I guess it’s just because I’m talking to a pretty girl.” He replied before thinking, cursing himself immediately after the words left his mouth. 
“Smooth move Rick.” You say with a laugh before walking inside the house, sending him one last wink as you hurried inside.
Yup, this was his last straw for sure.
“Shit” You hissed as your backpack fell off your shoulders, the bottles in it loudly slamming on each other, “Shit, shit, shit.” You kept murmuring as you picked it up, quickly checking inside if the bottles broke. Lucky for you they didn’t. Unlucky for you, someone heard the noises.
“Shouldn’t you be inside?” Rick’s deep voice asked from behind you, holding his gun in one hand while the other one rested on his hip as he made his way towards you. 
“Shouldn’t you be with your wife?” She shots back before pulling her backpack back on her shoulders.
“Touché” He chuckled as you too couldn’t help but feel a smile growing on your lips.
You knew him and his wife had their problems and that she was cheating on him, you wouldn’t have eyed him otherwise. Marriage was still a sacred thing even during the apocalypse, that’s what your father had taught you. Plus it was unbelievable to you how she went from someone like Rick to a scumbag like that man she saw yelling at the most random things manytime. One thing was sure: if he was your husband you wouldn’t let him go. Ever. God if you just had the chance to show him how good you could make him feel even just once he’d forget about that Lori girl immediately.
“Why are you out here?” Rick asked, snapping her out her unholy thoughts.
“I wanted to take a walk.” You shrugged, “Are you going to arrest me, Officer?” You asked, the name making Rick feel things that were very very wrong. But still very very turning him on.
“No, although I’m sure I could give you a fine for the bottles in your backpack.” He replied, shaking his head, “But I won’t, just because you are nice to me.”
“Am I corrupting you, Officer?” You asked then, slowly advancing towards him.
Oh yes, you were very much corrupting him, he thought as he took a deep breath to calm himself. “That’s not how corruption works, sweetheart.” He says with a smirk. 
“Well, maybe that wasn’t…” You say, finally reaching him.
He could smell his scent from where he stood, fresh grass and soap, and he could swear his head was spinning.
“...But this surely is.” You say before quickly grabbing him by the wrist and running towards the woods, coughing him off guard.
“Hey.” He says between the pants, “Where are we exactly going?” “You know my secret so now I have to kill you.” You reply with nonchalance as you slow down your pace. “I'm just kidding, you asked why I was out so I wanted to show you.”
“I still have to decide about the killing part.” You then add.
“Do you still think about the old world?” You ask as you tilt your head to look over at the man sitting next to you on the roof of an old building you had found weeks before and had claimed as your secret place. 
“Sometimes,” He replies with a sigh, “Nothing will ever be the same again, not after what we’ve all seen.” You hum in agreement before taking a sip from the bottle that was now just half full before handing it to Rick, who gladly took it.
“I think about it everyday.” You admit, your eyes fixed on the trees as you avoid Rick’s piercing blue eyes staring at you, “Although the world had already fallen apart years before.” “True.” He replied, fidgeting with the neck of the bottle, “Do they scare you?” He then asked.
“Not anymore, I just find it sad now.” You say, “Those people were just like you and me and now we kill them like it’s nothing.” You sigh.
“You think we shouldn’t kill them?” He asked then, handing you the whisky bottle.
“No, of course not. I just think it’s sad we have to.” You explain as you take a large sip of alcohol.
Rick cautiously watches as your lips perfectly adapt around the bottle, wondering if they would be just as perfect around his c-
“You are staring.” You state with a laugh, breaking the silence.
Rick lets out an embarrassed laugh, “Sorry.” You shrug in response “I don’t mind.” You say with a smirk before letting your eyes wander on the man’s body. He was surely hot, you thought as you met his blue eyes, and he was probably into you too.
“I…” Rick’s voice died in his throat as his eyes found yours, already admiring you. Suddenly he felt like an awkward teenager with his first crush again, so shy yet so whipped.
“You know,” You say, “If I didn’t know you I’d say you have a crush on me, officer.”
The poor man almost choked when those words reached his ears, his eyes widening, not daring to look at you in fear you might be disgusted. God of course you were, he was too old for you. He takes a deep breath, clears his throat and then dares to start speaking, still avoiding your gaze, “Don’t you think you are a little too young for me?”
Now it was your turn to be disappointed, you really thought that he might be into you? He was probably just a very polite man and you just misread his actions. But still something about the way he was acting was telling you to not give up just now. 
“I don’t mind.” You answer, your voice barely audible. 
But sure as hell he heard it. And it all went straight to his cock. Still it felt very much wrong to flirt with a girl half his age.
“You are drunk, you don’t know what you are saying.” He murmurs, not noticing how close you two were standing until you started talking.
“You are drunk too, doesn’t that make us even?” You ask as you keep staring at his face, hoping he would look at you.
“I… I can’t.” He shots back, “We can’t.”
“Hey,” You say, placing two fingers on his face to make him turn to you, “I know you want me just as bad as I want you.” You say as you sink into his deep blue eyes, “Isn’t that right?” You then ask, making Rick nod in response.
“Then what’s wrong with it?” You ask, bringing your face closer to you, “Just give in.”
Rick’s Adam’s apple bounces up and down as the dirtiest thoughts flashed in his mind, all the things he could do to you, the things he wants to do. No, he doesn’t just want to do them, he needs to. He needs to do you.
You murmuring his name brought him back to reality, his eyes lingering on your lips, his cock twitching in his pants.
“Fuck it.” He murmurs before putting a hand behind your neck and pulling you in a heated kiss. You quickly reciprocate, one of your hands tugging his hair as the other rested on his chest. 
Rick quickly pulls you on his lap, basically making you straddle him as the kisses become more desperate, all the unsaid words purred in it. You could feel Rick’s tongue teasing your lips, begging you to let him in. Of course you do, quickly gasping for air as you begin to roll your hips on his painfully hard dick. 
Rick groans against the kiss, sending vibrations through your whole body. You still could taste the whisky on his tongue as it kept exploring your mouth, making you go insane. You could feel Rick’s hand trailing up from your hip to your back under your shirt as you fidget with the collar of his jacket, goosebumps forming on your exposed arms at the cold breeze.
“Here.” Rick murmurs, breaking away from the kiss to slip his jacket on your shoulders, “I don’t want you to get cold.”
You can’t help but let out a breathless laugh, “You are supposed to undress me officer, not cover me up.” “I guess I’m just too much of a gentleman.” He replies with a smirk, “You haven’t met many of them, have you?” 
You shyly nod, your eyes falling on the oversized jacket on your shoulders. You knew there was no one like Rick, you just didn’t know how right you were. 
“Then I guess I’ll have to show you how a real man treats a proper lady.” He says as his big hand cups your cheek before leaning closer, “And for the jacket don’t worry, I’ll eventually take it off you along with all your other clothes, if you give me the chance.” He whispers against your neck.
“You can have all the chances you want.” You whisper back before reconnecting your lips with his. His mouth quickly started to pepper kiss on her neck, leaving a few marks when he found her sweat spots. You softly moan at the feeling of his bears scratching on your neck as he keeps kissing your jaw and neck. 
“Rick…” You murmur as he softly bites your neck, soothing the pain with his tongue. “I need you so bad.” He whispers as his hands raise from your hips to your breast, squeezing them lightly under your shirt, making you whimper. 
“I’ve always wanted you…” He keeps mumbling as you fidget with the buttons of his shirt, slowly unbuttoning it. 
“You have me now.” You whisper back before pulling him in another heated kiss, making him groan as you press yourself against his erection. You can’t wait, you realize as the kiss becomes even more passionate, breaking apart just to quickly take off her shirt and tossing it somewhere near his.  
“God you are so beautiful.” He mumbles, making you suddenly feel so shy as you look in his eyes and find pure adoration as they scan your semi naked body, looking at you like you were the only person in this world. It makes your head spin.
Quickly the rest of both your and his clothes are scattered around. Rick cautionally holds you as he swaps position, now hovering over you as he propped himself up on his shoulders. “Are you sure you want this?” He asks breathlessly. You nod, “I’m sure.”
You eagerly reattach your lips to his as Rick’s hands roam your body. Your hands also wander around his bare back, your nails involuntarily digging into his skin when he squeezes your naked hip. 
“Rick, I need you so bad.” You pant as your eyes meet his. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He answers as he ghosts your lips with his thumb.
He pushed some hairs of your face before lining up himself with your entrance as you could feel yourself get wetter each second that passed. Your legs quickly wrap themselves around his hips as he slowly pushes his length in. Your back arches as he completely fills you up, making him groan. He soon starts moving, each thrust making you whine as your hands tug his hair. Rick moves his hips back slowly, watching your reaction as he moves back inside you. He starts moving faster, finding his own rhythm that you waste no time to meet, raising your hips against his, allowing him to go deeper inside you, forcing a low moan from him as you feel your high coming closer. Rick moves his hand to your clit, his arousal increasing even more as you become more vocal. 
“I- I’m close.” You say.
“Me too.” He murmurs before bringing his lips to yours, his tongue eagerly exploring your mouth. It’s all it takes for you to cum, burying your head in the crook of his neck as you practically screamed while your body shook, your orgasm taking control. He soon after reached his high too, loudly panting as he rolled next to you.
"That was..." -your words die in your throat as her breathing is still ragged, but Rick knows exactly what you mean.
"I know." He replies with a smirk.
1K notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 1 year
Note
Could I request Sumeru boys' reactions to being called "husband" by their s/o?
I'm assuming this is before the marriage, so like a pretend relationship of sorts.
Pairing: Scaramouche, Cyno, Tighnari, Kaveh, Al-Haitham x Reader
Tags: fluff, pretend relationship, kissing, being flustered, teasing, confession
A/N: Pretend relationships are always fun to play with. Sure you can make them angsty but I prefer to keep it more fun.
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Scaramouche would vehemently deny that he is your husband! You have a lot of nerve to say that, you should only be so lucky to get him to marry you one day. Honestly, he enjoys the banter with you but don't call him your husband out of the blue, he'll get real mad real fast and consider heavily scolding you later.
"H-Husband?! You wish you were so lucky. W-Why are you laughing at this? You've got some nerve you know that? Punish you? I just might, its what you deserve! Wha- stop smiling at me like that!"
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Cyno catches on to your joke pretty quick although its hard to tell if his smile is because he's happy to be called your husband or if he finds it funny. Regardless he runs with it, bragging about how lucky the two of you got with each other and constantly kissing your hand. By the end of the night you're more flustered then him.
"I consider myself a very lucky man to land someone so sweet and caring as my sweetheart over here. It's nice to be someone who understands you and isn't afraid of a little challenge."
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Tighnari is stunned when you call him your husband. Even if he could fake it his ears are a dead giveaway to him being flustered by it. The more you keep doing it the worse the poor man gets until he can't take anymore and kisses you to shut you up. Now who's got the upper hand? Well... neither cause now you're both a mess.
"It's your fault what happened tonight. Yes, it is, you called me your husband, what did you expect from me. I like you doesn't mean I want to go along with everything you do. Was that kiss not enough to make it clear?"
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Kaveh gets flustered at first but quickly goes along with you plan, seeing what your goal is. He's very charming as he pulls you close, arm around yours and looking at you softly before he asks you to dance. What? Of course he will dance with you, he's your husband, isn't he?
"Getting cold feet now? You should have thought of that before you decaled me yours. If I'm yours, then you are mine as well, at least for tonight. You bet your pretty head I will milk this for all that its worth."
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Al-Haitham immediately pulls you into a kiss before he can allow himself to think too hard about this idea. One day he would love to be your husband for real but this is entirely too soon to act in this role. See? This is what happens when he thinks about it! Best just let his thoughts be occupied with kissing you and holding you close.
"Let me be distracted by you now that you've dragged me into your silly ploy. You know, I find you cute, however maybe I let my guard down around you a little too much if you do things like this to me."
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bleedingoptimism · 10 months
Text
𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚
part 2
Steve is looking around the room when he sees Jay waving at him, so he smiles and waves back. He likes Jay. He’s nice and super fun to beat at cards.
And then he notices there’s someone sitting beside Jay and his hand falters before he puts it down.
The guy looks… tough, all lean and strong and sexy in his leather jacket and ripped jeans. Tattoos, rings, and pierced ears with long curly hair. But his eyes, his big eyes are beautiful and dark and his lips are round and look really soft. He’s all sharp but round around the edges. A walking contradiction. And Steve’s never seen anyone like him before. 
Without taking his eyes off him, he moves over to where Chrissy is sitting with Robin and sits with them, takes Chrissy’s hand, and holds it lovingly like he always does. 
“Hey, babe,” He whispers to her, “Who’s that guy sitting with Jay?”
“That’s Strider,” Robin says leaning over Chrissy to talk to him, “He’s an old friend of Jay’s, new in town. Why? You like him?”
“Strider…That’s a character from the book Dustin likes, right?” He wonders, “The Hobbit?”
“The Lord of the Rings” Chrissy corrects him.
“Right… nerd” He quips.
“So? Do you? Like him.” Chrissy asks squeezing his hand in retaliation.
“He’s gorgeous,” Steve confirms and Chrissy smiles excitedly. It’s not every day Steve notices someone in the bar. It has never happened before actually.
“You really think so?” Robin murmurs to him, “He looks like he’d like telling you what to do,” 
Steve hums appreciatively, “Yes, but like, in a nice way, right? Like he’ll say please and thank you,” he says dreamily.
Robin snorts, “Is that what you are into, you nasty boy?” Steve gasps so hard he almost chokes on his own spit and Robin starts cackling, while Chrissy giggles cutely.
“Fuck off,” He snaps, “And you, don’t laugh you dummy! You are supposed to be the stoic leader here!” 
Chrissy sobers up immediately, “Right, right” and then the three of them, look at each other amused trying to hold their laughs in. 
Fuck, if anyone heard how silly they were their reputation would be completely ruined.
The phrase ‘fake it til you make it’ never made more sense than it does for them right now. 
When the three of them, fresh out of high school moved into the city when Chrissy started showing symptoms… they had absolutely nothing to their name, and now, they owned a fucking bar. They had a roof over their head, food on their tables, and more importantly, they were offering shelter to a lot of people that used to be where they were a couple of years ago.
The lack of information around them made them look mysterious. And Robin had a way with business and marketing. So a couple of well-placed rumors did all the work for them. Just a few lessons on how to make a real bitchy face from Steve and suddenly Chrissy was the scariest girl in the night. 
It had been a rough start, and more than once Steve thought they wouldn't make it till the end of the month. But they’d gotten lucky when they found this place and they had been smart about it and now they had responsibilities and a establishment to uphold but that didn’t mean they couldn't have any fun.
“Go talk to him!” Chrissy tells him elbowing him subtly.
Steve shakes his head, “No, no way,”
“Dude, he’s been looking at you since the minute he came in!” Robin insists.
But that doesn't mean as much as she thinks it does. That doesn’t make it safe for him. Still, he kind of wants to talk to him, to hear his voice, to know what he’s like and what he likes and what not. And just when Steve is actually considering it Mayra, one of their hostess, walks up to Strider. 
Robin frowns, “Oh, fuck off Mayra” she mutters and Steve has to stifle a loud snort.
“Oh well, lost my chance I guess,” He says unbothered but actually feels really upset about it. He’s never felt jealous of any of the girl's conquests before. It’s strange, but there’s something about that guy.
He wanted him for himself. He needs him.
“Bet you a burger that if you go there right now, he’ll choose you over her” Chrissy says studying his expression like she can see right through him. 
“I’m not gonna cock block Mayra for a burger” He smiles at her shaking his head.
“Oh! No need! He rejected her!” Robin tells them excitedly.
And then they both stare at him,
“What are you waiting for?!”
“Well then, go on!” 
They talk at the same time.
“I- Ok! Fine. But if he rejects me you are buying me that burger,” He says standing up.
“If he rejects you I’ll buy you burgers for the whole week!” Chrissy whispers-yells at him as he’s making his way there.
He sees Jay walking up and leaving Strider alone at the little table and makes a note to thank him later as he sits beside Strider and puts his elbows on the table, using his hands to rest his chin over and looking at him.
“Hi” 
Strider blinks at him a couple of times and visibly swallows, “Hi,” 
Steve just leans his head to one side and smiles at him, and Strider just looks at him for a long second before smiling back crookedly, a dimple appearing on his left cheek that makes Steve want to bite him.
“I’m Ee-Strider,”
Steve’s smile becomes something a little more genuine and less flirty, he seems so nice, his strider, “Hi, Strider”
“And you are Sunshine, right?” Strider asks leaning a little closer over the table.
Steve bites his lip before answering. He was never particularly fond of that nickname, it’s too much to live up to. But he really likes the way it sounds coming from Strider.
“That’s what they call me, yes” he answers smirking confidently.
‘Fake it Till you Make It’
“So, Strider, What brings you here tonight?” 
Once more Strider just looks at him intently, looks at his lips, and then shakes his head, looking around feigning casualness, “Oh, you know, just checking out the scene”
He muffles a giggle over his own shoulder and then leans his head to look at Strider sideways, exposing the line of his neck, “And how are you finding it?” he asks softly.
“Oh, it’s really neck so f- nice really nice… So far” Strider stumbles over his words and then cringes to himself and blushes faintly.
And Steve gets suddenly really fucking impatient. He needs this cute dork upstairs, naked and under him right now.
“Has anyone explained to you how things work around here?” He asks him, trying to move the conversation along. 
Strider nods, “Je-Jay explained to me the gist of it, yeah” 
“Oh, yeah?” Steve nods too and puts his chin on his hands again, fawning his eyelashes at him and waiting for him to elaborate.
“Well, you choose right?” Strider continues and gestures vaguely around the room referring to the hostesses, “And then you take us upstairs…”
“Mmhm” Steve hums encouraging him to keep talking, “And then?”
“And then I get to taste you,” Strider breathes and fuck.
Taste him? Taste him. Yes. He wants that. He wants that so much.
“Taste me?” He asks because the concept still sounds too good to be true.
“Right?” Strider asks like he’s not sure the said the right thing.
‘Oh, he has no idea how right he was’
Steve leans over the table and stops just an inch away from Strider’s face, almost going eye crossed to look at him, “Would you like that, Strider?” he asks and then moves closer and to the side to whisper in his ear, 
“Do you want to taste me?”
“God. Fuck, yes. Please?” Strider says in a rushed whisper and Steve tries his best not to shiver.
He stands up and offers up a hand to him, “Follow me.” 
part 1: 🍷
part 2: you are here
part 3: 🩸
bonus content: ☀️
ao3: 🌙
art: 🦇
coffee?☕🥐💕
1K notes · View notes
mayearies · 7 months
Text
SPIDERMAN CLASSIC …. miles morales ⟡
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… ꒰ঌ ໒꒱
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#MILESMORALES brooklyn’s one and only spiderman!
⟡ genre: fluff | warnings: platonic/romantic pov, implied aged up જ⁀➴ note!: first time actually using miles as a graphic wow also hype up my 1610 fics more damn
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the large metal doors shut behind you as the music became muffled. your makeup was nicely done, your dress beautiful, but not for the one it was intended to be seen by.
yup. you got stood up at prom.
he was this guy you liked, you considered a friend. and he stood you up. the grey message from your screen illuminated on your face as you leaned against the alleyway. you were disappointed, yeah. but nothing to cry about. the thing to cry about is how humiliating it was.
you left after a few drinks, you friends toning down your sadness. but it didn’t last long. you just wish-
“hey!”
“wh-?!”
well, this was a surprise. here laid infront of you was the infamous spiderman who saved your city every day. or spiderman 2, most people called him. the only thing different was he was wearing a suit with a bowtie and flowers. and it matched your dress. coincidence? also he was upside down. that’s normal.
“spiderman?”
“yeah! that’s me,” he rubbed the nape of his neck “sorry, is it weird to see me out of character like this?”
“more or less. why are you so dressed up?”
“long story short— i’m finding a prom date last minute.”
that was both true and a lie. the boy behind the mask was finding a prom date last minute, yeah, but it was purposeful in a way. you could have swore he was younger. he sounded like a freshman or sophomore to you.
“um.. yeah. that’s all im really in for. what are you doin’ out here? arent you cold?”
“a little. i got stood up tonight by my date. sucks, huh?”
he nodded like he didn’t know. you didnt hear it from me, but, that was no mistake. he webbed the guy to a nearby alleyway a few blocks down. apparently he had been that pickpocket going around all throughout this week.
a win is a win in miles’ eyes.
“…would you like to be my date? you can say no of course i was just asking-!”
“that.. would be nice. amazing, actually.”
his lenses went wide, taking up most of his mask which was pretty cute. underneath, he could feel his face warming up. and not because he was upside down.
“really?”
“yeah! then i can brag to my friends how i went to prom with spiderman or something, it would be fun.”
“.. would you go with me if you knew who was under this mask?”
“mmm. depends. you seem sweet. my parents say you’re a jerk. you know, that week that rhino destroyed my dad’s car and blamed you? i saw the whole thing so i thought different.”
his face was heating up more, definately not because he wasn’t right side up.
truth was, miles may have been stalking you for a while. he liked you a lot but was too shy to directly confront you, so he watched from the sidelines. found out everything you liked. everything you loved. he just wishes he was a part of that list.
“also, you sound familiar. have we met?”
“what? nonononono- i’ve never seen you in my life!”
“uh huh.”
you did wonder who was underneath, now. you never suspected it would have been someone you knew, but the drastic change in tone once he dropped the fake deep voice made you wonder.
you wanted to pull his mask above his eyes to see if you did know him, but he waved his hands at the point where it reached over his nose. he seemed like a really shy guy, despite him being the hero of brooklyn.
you hummed in contentless, “well, my friends might hear an earful from me about this encounter. and how i’m going to be dancing with the savior of new york. so thanks for that, spidey.”
you gave him a small kiss on the cheek and he froze, fully expecting a kiss on the lips. peter told him about this whole ‘spiderman kiss’ thing and he wanted to try it. its how he won over mj, after all.
even if it didn’t turn out the way he hoped.
“woah..”
“didnt expect that?”
“absolutely not!”
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afterwards notes: rewrote this twice also hype this up wtf
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©hiimayee loves you !
702 notes · View notes
auras-moonstone · 9 months
Text
i can see you — ethan landry
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word count: 2,623
pairing: non-gf!ethan landry x fem!reader
based on: i can see you by taylor swift
summary: y/n and ethan work at a summer camp which has very strict rules—relationships between the staff is completely forbidden.
author’s note: this song is the epitome of horniness, so there are some suggestive things in this story. no smut, but there are sexual activities implied.
part two
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ONE OF THE FIRST RULES YOU’RE TOLD ON YOUR FIRST DAY OF WORK AT THE GARDEN GATE SUMMER CAMP IS: RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN STAFF MEMBERS ARE COMPLETELY FORBIDDEN. At first, Y/N didn’t mind that rule at all. No one on the staff has ever caught her attention in the two years she had been working there. But then, he bursted into the room—breathless, red cheeks (probably from running), perfect curly hair, big brown enthralling eyes, tall and broad shoulders, absolutely mesmerising features—and she knew she was utterly and absolutely fucked.
“Sorry I’m late… flat tire” he said, trying to catch his breath. And his voice was irritably hot, just great, Y/N groaned internally.
“It’s okay. I had just explained a few rules. The most important—and if we found out you broke it, we’ll have no choice but to fire you—no romantic relationships between staff members, got it?” Jessie, their boss, said. The guy nodded in understanding.
Y/N tried not to look at the mysterious new guy for the rest of the meeting—but it was impossible, his magnetic field was a little too strong. It was going to be a cruel summer, she could feel it.
Ethan, even though he didn’t show it, felt her gaze ever since he walked into that room and it excited him. He had been crushing on that girl ever since Chad showed him a picture of her. He had told her how funny and sweet she was and let it slip that Ethan was exactly her type, so that’s why he ended getting a job at Garden Gate Summer Camp—to meet her.
“Y/N! It’s so nice to see you!” Tara hugged her tightly. Y/N and the group —Tara, the Meeks-Martin twins and Sam—met the previous summer, on their first day of work at the camp. They went to different colleges, but they still texted and face-timed a lot.
“Oh, by the way, Y/N/N, this is Ethan, the roommate I told you would be joining us this year?” Chad introduced her to the personification of a daydream.
“Oh, yeah! Welcome to the nightmare, Ethan. A job at a summer camp is not cool as it sounds” Y/N looked at him with a smile.
“Oh, okay. That makes me feel so excited” he said sarcastically. “But thank you. Hope you heard all good things about me”
“Don’t worry, man. I told her you are a shy, dorky nerdy boy” Chad said, patting his shoulder. Ethan rolled his eyes at him, of course he said that.
“Don’t feel bad, Ethan. Shy, dorky, nerdy guys are cool… jocks, on the other hand…” Y/N faked a gag, and the tall boy laughed.
“Okay, okay I deserved that” Chad laughed too.
That night, both Y/N and Ethan went to bed with excitement filling their chests, trying their hardest to sleep early just so tomorrow would come faster—they couldn’t wait to see each other again.
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THE WEEKS PASSED AND THE TENSION THE TWO TEENAGERS FELT AROUND EACH OTHER WAS BECOMING MORE AND MORE UNBEARABLE. Y/N never thought she would hate that fucking rule Jessie set so much. She despised the fact that all she could do was enjoy the way he brushed past her in the hallways. It was getting so hard to retain the need to touch him.
And Ethan… no one would believe the things that went through his mind everytime he saw Y/N. Like right now, she she was waiting down the hallway—to lead him to the closet they were tasked to arrange—and the image of Y/N up against the wall with him, kissing her into oblivion, crossed his mind. Holding back from her was a complete nightmare.
“Eth? Everything okay? You look a little flushed” her sweet voice invaded his ears. His thoughts had been so loud he wondered if she could read his mind.
“The day feels hot and heavy today” was his excuse. The day was indeed intolerable, but that was not the reason he felt like that. It was totally her—the way she made that ridiculous camp shirt look hot, and the shorts that showed her beautiful legs.
“I told you. This job is not as cool as it sounded. Everyone is having fun at the lake and we are stuck in this closet” she laughed “And how is it even hotter in here? My god”.
“Let’s just hurry so we can leave” he said. “Hey, I heard you’re transferring to Blackmore, right?” Ethan tried to make conversation as they worked.
“Yup. I’m rooming with Mindy and her girlfriend. So, you’ll be seeing more of me when the summer ends”
“Thank god” he said. Y/N looked at him in surprise, and then a smirk formed on her face. Ethan widened his eyes and tried to explain himself. “I mean, with Tara and Chad, and Mindy and Anika being couples, I’m kind of always fifth wheeling… now I have you. In the group, I mean, n-not as in… my g-girlfriend”.
“You’re adorable, Ethan” Y/N told him. Ethan held back a sigh. Of course he was the adorable one, the cute one, never the hot one. He didn’t know how he could’ve thought it would be different with Y/N. “I like adorable, for the record”.
Yeah, as a friend, I bet, Ethan said to himself. “Done” he said, already wanting to get out of the closet to drown himself in his own disappointment.
“Right” Y/N stood up, cursing herself for having messed up. She totally meant it as a compliment—yes, Ethan was hot but he was also really sweet and adorable and she liked him a lot. But clearly the boy had been teased about being dorky, nerdy and adorable so much that he started to hate it.
The curly-haired boy turned the handle and tried to open the door. “No, no. No way” he said shaking the door with force. “Y/N it’s not opening”.
“What? Let me see” she said, pushing him aside. “Shit. It must be stuck”.
“Do you have your phone?” Ethan asked. Y/N shook her head. “Fuck, me neither. What do we do?”.
“Well, we’ll have to wait. I mean, they’ll eventually notice we’re missing, right?”
“But that could take hours” Ethan groaned.
“Yeah, we don’t have any other choice so, get comfortable”
The minutes passed and the little room turned warmer and heavier. Their shirts were soaked in sweat and the fabric of Y/N’s jean shorts was starting to feel hot against her skin.
“We’re going to die” Ethan muttered. They were sitting against a wall next to each other. “The shirt is sticking to my skin” he said, trying to create some air by shaking the fabric with rapid movements. “I need to take it off”.
“Please don’t take it off” by his muscled arms and broad shoulders, Y/N could tell Ethan spent some considerable amount of time at the gym. That means that he probably had abs and the last thing she needed at the moment is her body to turn warmer.
“I’m sorry but I might melt if I don’t” he said before getting rid of the dark blue Garden Gate Summer Camp shirt.
Y/N really did try not to shamelessly look at his body, but she was just a girl with only so much self-restraint. “This is torture”.
“I know, let’s just hope they’ll notice soon” he said.
She was, definitely, not talking about the hot room, but the hot, shirtless boy next to her. But she just said “Yeah”. After a couple of minutes, she couldn’t take the heat any longer so she followed Ethan’s actions and took off her shirt, leaving her in only shorts and a black bikini top.
“What are you doing?” he asked in panic, trying to look anywhere but her chest.
“The shirt was so sticky it disgusted me. Chill, it’s just a bikini”
“It’s not the bikini, it’s who is wearing it” the words left his mouth before he could even process them.
The blood rushed into her cheeks, making her even warmer “Ethan, fuck, you’re making this harder” she cursed.
“I could say the same about you” he accused her.
“Ew” Y/N teased him.
Ethan widened his eyes “No! That’s not what I meant!”
“I know, I’m just messing with you” she bursted out laughing. Her shoulder accidentally touched his and the laughter stopped. Their breaths hitched at the contact. “Maybe we should… try banging the door? Someone might hear us”
Ethan nodded frenetically. He needed to get out of this room before he did something stupid. “This is useless” he said after a couple of minutes, leaning against the door.
“I’m sorry for what I said” she blurted out, making him look at her in confusion. “About you being adorable. I can tell you didn’t like it, and I’m sorry”.
“I know it’s silly, I mean getting offended by a harmless compliment, I just… I’m kind of tired of being the one who stays in a corner at parties because I’m not enough confident or hot like Chad or other frat boys. I’m the cute guy, the adorable one, the one that girls want as a friend not a hookup”.
“That’s not how I feel about you, Ethan. God, you have no fucking idea, do you? The effect you’ve had on me since the first day? You don’t know half the things I see inside my head when you are near me or even when you’re not” she didn’t even notice she was pinning him to the door. But Ethan was well aware of it, and he loved it “So yes, Ethan, I think you’re the sweetest and most adorable guy I’ve ever met, but you are also so fucking attractive. I like you and want you so bad, it drives me absolutely insane”.
“What would you do if I went to touch you now?” Ethan asked in a low, raspy voice.
He was so irresistible. “Keep taking to me in that voice and I will do anything you want, let you do anything you want” he definitely had her in the palm of his hand, and she didn’t mind at all.
“Y/N, Ethan? You’re in there?” they heard Chad’s voice on the other side of the door.
“Are you kidding me? They appear now?” Ethan groaned in a whisper. Y/N grimaced and shrugged. It was probably for the best. “Yes! We’ve been stuck here for hours!”
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A WEEK HAD PASSED SINCE THE CLOSET SITUATION and while they managed to keep everything professional, they both felt something had changed between them now that they knew they were attracted to each other. They now exchanged seductive smiles, brief teasing touches, and shared meaningful glances only the other was able to decipher—it kind of became their secret language.
But the thing was ultimately treacherous, those little actions just made the situation worse because if they had trouble holding back from each other before, now it felt physically draining.
“We have night patrol, who volunteers?” Sam asked, no one raised their hands. Everyone hated night patrols. “Oh, please”.
“Fine, I’ll do it” Y/N spoke up.
Sam sent her a grateful smile “Who else?”
Ethan faked a defeated sigh and said, “I’ll go too”. Y/N held back a smile.
“Perfect!” Sam exclaimed, giving them the lanterns.
“Good luck, guys” the rest of the group said before entering their respective cabins.
“So, are you going to make a move or are you going to keep eye-fucking me during every fucking meeting?” Ethan asked.
“Mmm, I don’t know. I kinda like seeing you clench your jaw, how you discreetly adjust your shorts, how you try to look away from me but totally failing” she whispered in his ear.
Ethan groaned, gripping her waist tightly “You temptress… you drive me insane. You know it hurts, right? Like, a lot”
“I’m sorry… maybe I should make it up to you?” Y/N smiled innocently, while dragging her hand from his shoulder all the way down to the waistline of his shorts. “Follow me” she grabbed his hand, leading him towards a secure place, very well hidden.
“You’re so gorgeous” he said, pressing her against the wall. He was so tall that she had to look up at him. “Are you going to let me kiss you, Y/N?”.
She looked at him with begging eyes and nodded. As soon as their lips touched, they could see themselves being each other’s addictions. There was so much urgency and neediness in the way their lips moved, they couldn’t imagine ever wanting to pull apart. Hands wandered everywhere—chests, cheeks, jaws, necks—wanting to feel and memorise every inch possible. Nothing could ever be enough though, they wanted more and more of each other.
“I want to make it up to you, Eth” she whispered once they had to pull away.
“Whatever you want. I am okay doing whatever you want” he whispered against her neck, the smell of vanilla and coconut blurring his senses.
“You’re going to keep quiet for me, pretty boy?” Y/N asked descending her kisses from his neck down to collarbone.
“Yes, I promise. Just… please”
So Y/N got down to her knees and Ethan totally broke his promise.
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ETHAN LANDRY, Y/N FOUND, WAS THE MOST TRANSPARENT PERSON SHE KNEW. Or at least when his emotions were on edge. The next morning, when the girl joined the rest of the group for breakfast, Ethan almost fell out of his seat. And it certainly caught the attention of their friends.
“Are you okay?” Sam asked him confused by his sudden behaviour.
“Y-yeah, I just thought there was an insect on my leg” he laughed nervously. Y/N wanted to kill him, they were going to find them out if he continued to act like that.
“Well, we are at a camp… in the woods. There are a lot of insects, so you have to get accustomed to them, Ethan” Y/N said.
“R-right, yeah. Obviously” he nodded.
“Man, do you feel alright? You’re acting weird” Chad asked his friend.
“We stayed up late last night” Y/N said, and Ethan choked on his coffee. “-patrolling. And Ethan here is basically a grandpa who wanted to go to bed like ten minutes after we started. So, maybe he just needs a little rest”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what is wrong. I need more hours of sleep” Ethan nodded.
“You’re the worst partner ever” Y/N said sending him a look that said ‘act normal’.
“Yeah, I don’t know what the fuck is going on here but we better get to work” Mindy said.
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Y/N AND ETHAN DECIDED TO HAVE THE LEAST INTERACTION POSSIBLE DURING THE DAY. The group did not buy the sleepless excuse at all, they knew something was going on between them. So, looking around to make sure no one was near, Y/N casually walked past Ethan and left a note on his hand.
meet me tonight at my cabin
make sure no one sees you leave your cabin
“You really need to start behaving, Ethan” she said as Ethan entered her cabin, closing the door behind him.
“I just… I keep replaying you on your knees and looking up at me with those fucking beautiful doe eyes and I can’t help it. You make me fucking nervous and flustered”
Y/N smiled, even the thought of being annoyed at him was impossible. She just had a soft spot for him.“Maybe I should get you accustomed to the feeling of me… of all the things that haven’t happened between us yet. And maybe then you’ll start behaving like a normal person around me” she had pushed him to her bed. He looked at her with wide hungry eyes, pulling her to his lap.
“I really like the sound of that… like a secret mission. But first, I need to return the favour. Then, we can do anything you want” Ethan said kissing her collarbone.
Y/N smiled, grabbing him by the jaw to kiss him softly “It’s okay, Eth. You don’t need to”
“I don’t need to, but I want to. There’s nothing I want more” he said, grabbing her tights to switch positions. Now, she way lying on the bed, and he was kneeling between her legs.
“They suspect something, though, they had been keeping watchful eyes on us. So, just in case, we need to be fast. You can’t spend much time here” Y/N said, the feeling of his hand on her tight sending her electric shocks all over her body.
“I can be fast. Just keep quiet, gorgeous”
And soon enough, her hands were in his hair and the rest of their clothes ended up splattered across the room.
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mattslolita · 1 month
Text
my goodies - m. sturniolo
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in which ... a girl who was once jaded at a halloween party endures in a night of fun when she meets the cute guy with the vampire teeth — and he gives her a night of memories. matt x black!fem reader
warnings ; smut , unprotected piv ( wrap it bitches! ) , oral ( female receiving )
"𝒊 𝒃𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 ��𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒃𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕."
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰
"girl, this party better be worth it," you say, crossing her arms across your chest as you step out the uber with your friend jaycee.
"girl, it will be!" jaycee grinned encouragingly, as she hooked her arm with yours. "tara invited us both, by the way."
"oh, word?" you say, a smirk on your face, "haven't seen my girl in a minute, i miss her!"
"she invited a lot of her friends, maybe you might make some new ones too girl!" jaycee tells you happily, as you both make your way towards the venue.
skeletons, zombies, fake webs and all kinds of halloween decorations littered the venue as you looked around, taking in the sight — you came dressed as a cheerleader from euphoria, and you could feel the skirt lowkey riding up your ass, causing you to tug down on it a bit as you both walked arm in arm.
when you stepped inside, you were immediately greeted with the smell of alcohol and faintly weed which intoxicated your senses. you were glad those were provided, because you had forgotten to bring your own after getting ready.
your brown skin glowed in the dimly lit venue underneath all the lights, and just as you were getting a headache tara's smile could be seen as she was approaching you both.
"jaycee! y/n!" tara says excitedly and as she's moving closer you can smell the faint pink whitney while she reaches her arms out towards you, "i'm so glad you guys made it!"
"glad to be here boo, i haven't seen you in a cool minute!" you tell the shorter girl as you pull her in for a hug. "now tell me why my ass is already getting a headache?"
"nuh uh, you're not gonna do that, y/n!" jaycee said with a small glare.
"she's right, there's no way you're leaving!" tara added with a shake of her head. she held a cup up towards you and you took with raised eyebrows. "drink this and have fun, babe!"
with a sigh you took the cup from tara's hand and peer in it before tipping the cup up and downing it one go, shaking your head a bit from the burning sensation.
jaycee giggled at your reaction, as tara dragged you both over to meet some of her friends — everyone you had met was really nice to you, some guys even looking to flirt with you at one point. you met tara's ex boyfriend jake who you thought was funny as shit, and his best friend johnnie who was emo but hey — you liked emo boys.
jaycee had eventually got dragged away by a cute brunette boy who wanted to dance with her, so you stood where the drinks were at and refilled, looking around with a bored expression.
when you turned around to get another cup, you felt a smooth breeze whip by you as hands were on your waist, causing you to turn around.
"sorry about that," a cute brunette man says to you, his hands on your waist as he walks to the side of you.
"you good," you say to him.
immediately you notice how attractive he was, his eyes and cheekbones being the thing that captured you first. he grins down at you, causing you to bite your lip as you tilt your head at him.
"i saw you over here, you look bored," he whispered to you, leaning down to your ear as he played with the hem of your skirt.
"yeah?" you answered him with a playful grin, "well my home girl is dancing with some guy and i don't wanna dance anymore."
"i'm matt," he introduced himself.
"y/n."
you both look at each other for what feels like an eternity — he goes to gently grab your waist again and gently rubs his thumb back and forth on the fabric of your skirt causing a wetness to form on your core as you stared up at him.
"you lookin to have fun, sweetheart?" matt whispers in your ear, and you clench your legs in response to the action.
"fuck yes," you say back excitedly.
you quickly latch your hand onto his which he accepts gratefully, as you guide him through the crowd looking for an empty room — as you're passing both jaycee and tara catch a glimpse of you and jaycee grabs onto tara's waist and pretends to hit from behind as tara holds her hands and moves her butt on her, causing you to stick up your manicured middle finger at them in response.
finally reaching an empty room, matt almost shoves you inside and your back is immediately pressed against the door as he's pulled your neck to meet him in a heated, hungry kiss.
you instantly wrap your arms around his neck as both your tongues battle for dominance — matt's arms go down to hoist you up by your waist as his hands roughly latch onto your thighs.
"jump," he grunts, and you oblige, jumping into his arms and attacking his lips once more.
never breaking away from the greedy kiss, your lips entangle one another as matt turns and walks you towards the bed, laying you down on your back as he hovers over you.
"you know at first," he says, his hands rubbing up and down your sides as he places wet, open mouthed kisses to your neck, "i was thinking of how much i want my cock inside you."
"then i realized," he smirks, opening his mouth to reveal the pearly white vampire teeth he showcased — he ran his tongue over the sharp canines causing you to whimper as you pulled him down to lick over the teeth yourself.
"i need to taste you, angel."
another whimper escapes your mouth as you look up him at him with your doe eyes, causing his dick to twitch in his pants — he leaves more open mouthed kisses along your neck before signaling you to take off the top.
you discard it quickly along with your skirt, revealing your matching blue bra and lace panties, causing matt's mouth to salivate at the sight. "fuck, blue is my favorite color."
"you better not ruin it then, especially if you wanna see more of me," you grin at him with a wink, causing him to grip onto your thighs.
he's at the foot of the bed, and he brings your thighs up close to him — matt leaves slow, deliberate kisses along your thighs on both sides all whilst keeping eye contact with you. your core was now soaked beyond belief, all you wanted was for him to do something.
"matt p-please, i need you," you whine out, and he flashes you a taunting smile, those pointed teeth flashing in the dim moonlight.
"don't worry baby, i'm gonna take care of you," matt promises, his hands digging into your brown flesh softly.
he leans down in between your legs, his breath now fanning over your clothed pussy. he presses a kiss to your clothed core, causing a gasp to fall from your lips.
"p-please..."
in a matter of seconds, matt pulled your panties down your ankles and threw them somewhere in the room, getting level with your pussy again — like a starved man, his hands grip onto your thighs once more as his tongue attaches to your throbbing bud, sucking slowly while keeping eye contact with you.
"oh, fuck!" you whimper out, your back arching as you grip the sheets beneath you.
and that's all it takes for matt to dive in, his nose on your clit as he laps you up feverishly, his tongue greedily delving into your delectable taste.
"fuck angel, you taste so damn good," he grunts out, his hips rutting into the mattress as his erection is very prominent.
matt continues nipping and sucking at your clit, and you're pretty sure at one point you could feel him spell his name with his tongue judging from the movements of his mouth. you're a moaning and whimpering mess, your pussy clenching as you feel your orgasm approaching quickly.
"matt i'm close," you manage to breathe out, your back somehow arched even more for him.
"yeah? you gonna cum on my face, angel?" matt says, "come on baby, give it to me."
the tightness in your stomach finally snaps, and you release all over matt's face as you let out a high-pitched moan — he's quick to lap up all your juices, licking his lips with a satisfied grin.
he comes back up and crashes his lips back onto yours, and you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue. matt pulls away quickly to discard his pants and boxers, his large cock finally free from its confines as its dripping with precum.
you salivate at the sight before you — he's fucking huge. you hoped he would fit.
matt strokes his tip along your cunt bathing his cock in your juices, causing you to both moan at the feeling before he inches himself inside you slowly.
"fuck," you both moan at the same time, your hands immediately finding their way to his back.
"you're so fucking tight, shit," matt grunts, fully pushing inside you and bottoming out.
without giving you time to adjust to his size, he begins slamming into you at a relentless pace, causing the headboards in the room to creak.
"fuck matt, fuck!" you scream out, your back arched as his cock hits your sweet spot deliciously.
"you feel so fucking good baby," he grunts out, interlacing his hand with yours as he continues fucking into you.
"right there, baby!" you moan out, looking up at him through your lashes at his fucked out expression, his silver horse chain dangling above you.
matt's eyebrows creased and he felt his orgasm approaching as he watched drool begin to form at the creases of your mouth, your eyes rolled into the back of your head.
"fucking you so good you're cock drunk, angel?" matt teases you, never letting up on his pace as he fucked you, "i'm gonna fuck my seed into you."
"y-yes matt, n-need it inside me," you blabbered out, your nails digging into his back, "m' so close..."
"fuck, i'm close too baby," matt moans, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he leans down to give you a open mouthed wet kiss, "cum for me, angel..."
with a pornographic moan of his name, for the second time your orgasm rippled through you as it spilled out of your pussy — soon after matt came, painting your walls white as he helped the both of you ride out your high.
he pulled out of you, but shoved two of his ringed fingers inside to keep his juices in there, grinning up at you as he did so.
"that was the best orgasm i've ever had," you breathed out as you fell beside each other.
"think you wanna let it happen more often?" matt asks you with a playful grin as he turns to look at you.
"definitely," you giggled, then your eyes widen and you shook your head. "fuck, i'm never gonna hear the end of it from jaycee and tara."
"good, you can let em know how good i fuck you," matt said, placing a kiss to your cheek as he gets up from the bed. "let me clean you up, angel."
💌 lil
AHHHH thank you all SAURRR much for 1.1k, i'm so grateful for each & every one of you 🫶 i love you all endlessly, & i'm so sorry this took long to publish😭
@muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @prettiest-poision @mattsturniolosleftnut @mrssturnioloo @guccifrog @thenickgirl @mattsivy ❤‍🩹
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thisismeracing · 7 months
Text
Call me obsessed | MS47
― Pairing: Mick Schumacher x fem!reader (she/her) ― Word count: 2.2k ― Warnings: +18; not proofread; suggestive content and graphic description of sex (p in v, fingering, dirty talk, praising kink, mean!dom mick, squirting, no protection); jealous!mick; Minors DNI! ― Summary: Everyone talks about how good it is to date someone who’s exactly like you, but Mick has been finding it hard to believe, especially when his girlfriend has the same sunshine energy as him. The problem? Too many friendly flirts around her. And though he’s not a jealous guy, he finds himself ready to praise her and prove to her that he’s the only one. You can say he's obsessed. ― A/n: I hope you guys enjoy it! Let me know your thoughts by reblogging and/or leaving me an ask (anons are on) *mwah* 🤍
⁕ Based on three requests (one, two, and three). ⁕ my masterlist and my taglist ⁕ you can support my writing by reblogging, and leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece)
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It was past midnight. The party was in full swing. Everyone seemed too busy either with drinks, dance, or lip moves. Mick had a beer bottle in his hands and he listened to whatever his group of friends loudly chattered about while keeping an eye on Yn. Well, or trying to keep an eye on her since Yn would fly and disappear around the packed club as if she were literally a social butterfly. 
For a long time, people have been comparing the couple. They always pointed out Yn as the sunshine girl, just like Mick was the sunshine boy. You would never see her raise her voice or be openly rude. Her snarky comments were usually very subtle, and the only thing that gave Yn a hard time when the subject was flying under the radar on how she was feeling was her eyes. Which, curiously, was the same as the Schumacher boy. 
He would stare the person up and down or arch his eyebrows in confusion. Sometimes he would let out a fake laugh, and his eyes would tell everything you needed to know about how he was feeling.
And contrary to everything people tend to say about dating someone who shared a lot in common, their relationship was amazing. They were able to agree on disagreeing, and when they shared the same opinion they would often gossip about it whenever it involved famous people. Both not being so open to doing it with anyone else. They were each other's favorite confessors. 
“Fucking finally,” he mutters in her ear when she slots herself between his legs, a big smile on her lips, her forehead a bit damp from going around talking with everyone. 
“I’m sorry, babe, I just met Jana’s girlfriend, she’s so funny, I love them. We were talking abo-” 
“The team’s social media manager?” Mick asked, kissing her naked shoulder, and Yn nodded. “Not even I know Jana this close.” 
“Your girlfriend is the social butterfly, Mick,” Esteban, who was sitting at the barstool beside them, stated. “She’s just like you, but much more open to new friends. Where you’re kinda shy, she’s…” he stopped, hands on his chin. “How do you say extravertie?” he asked himself.
“I think it’s extroverted, Estie,” Yn said, turning her front to Mick.
“Yeah, oui! Where Mick’s a bit shy, you’re extroverted. So it’s like sunshine and double sunshine,” he explained, but neither the German nor Yn was paying much attention this time, too wrapped up in each other’s stare.
“You look so pretty tonight. Prettier than ever,” Mick whispered in her ear, and Yn draped her body on his, kissing his heart through his white shirt. 
“You look like quite the catch too,” was her answer. 
And when Mick leaned in to connect their lips in a kiss, he was interrupted by Lando, “Yn, Yn, Yn, he’s about to play the song we asked for.”
And before Mick or Esteban can question ‘Who’s he?’ Yn explained that it was the DJ who was super friendly and ended up friends with Lando and her, to which the French guy just arched an eyebrow to his best friend, as if saying, ‘See my point? Double sunshine’. Yn kisses Mick’s cheeks briefly, and in the blink of an eye, she disappears in the crowd stopping here and there to talk to people that the Schumacher was almost sure she just met that weekend. And you see, he wasn’t a jealous guy, far from that. Mick knows Yn loves him. He knows she’s someone warm and happy, and that seems to call people to her, and though people say that they’re the same he secretly thinks that everyone’s in love with her, not with him. 
And he doesn’t judge. 
He’s in love with her too.
The problem is that lately, everyone is on her lane, so much they can’t seem to catch a break, and the line is crossed for him that night when he’s in a friend’s circle and Yn gets there straight into Pierre’s waiting arms exchanging some kind of internal joke. And he knows Pierre’s a flirt as a joke. He knows the French is very much in love with Kika. But the second one of the guys asks if Yn is Pierre’s girlfriend Mick is fuming. 
“No,” it’s Mick’s monosyllabic answer before he brings Yn to his embrace, holding her in front of his body and burying his head on her neck. He doesn’t even register that Kika is right beside Pierre laughing at the way they got it all wrong and explaining that Yn is just like Mick, rarely, somebody doesn’t like her. 
When he closed his teeth after nipping at her skin, pinching her pulsing point, Yn held back a whine and laced their fingers. And it was just what Mick needed to drag her out of there. He doesn’t stop to say goodbye, doesn’t stop to explain why they’re leaving, they just navigate between the crowds to the waiting drivers outside the club. The second they reach the hotel and get inside the elevator, Mick is all over her and that fire is completely new to Yn. So much so that she can’t even formulate a question about what got him like that, because he answers for himself too, when he mumbles “Gotta show them you’re mine. Show them you can be friendly with everyone, but there’s one side of you that only I can see.” 
Yn relishes in the feeling of being trapped between the elevator walls and his hard body, the way one of his thighs presses against her core and he holds her face between his big hands, making her lips pluck just for him. In fact, everything she would do that night would be just for him. For their pleasure only. In the security of being free to be as nasty as she wanted because that was just what Mick was doing by whispering the most unholy things in her ears. 
She was fucked.
Would literally be in just a few seconds, there wasn’t any doubt about it.
Once they were inside his room, Mick made quick work of taking off her dress, exposing her bare breasts to the cool air of the room, her nipples hardening in an instant, she whimpered asking for his touch.
“Oww, poor girl. I haven’t even touched you yet, Schatzi,” he mocked, holding the strings of her panties in his hands and pushing it up a bit, dragging the material right on her clit. Yn moaned, and he smirked deviously. He was being mean because he could and because he knew it turned her on, “I wonder how wet that pussy is.” 
“It’s for you, Micky. All for you,” she manages to breathe out her answer. 
“I bet it is, Schatzi. I bet you kept thinking about me losing my patience, dragging you into one of those bathrooms, and fucking you until they all heard you screaming,” his dirty words kept going dragging more and more moisture from her body. Making it hotter. “Or did you think about me fingering you under the table?” he chuckled maliciously, and louder when Yn grabbed one of his hands and pushed it inside her pants.
Mick shook his head, keeping his fingers still right on top of her clit, “tsk tsk, that’s not how this works, Yn. You know that though everyone says you’re a ray of sunshine, you’re actually a bad girl, don’t you? You tease me so much by being just like me, it’s not even fair,” he remarks. 
“Micky, I-” she’s interrupted by his pointer finger on top of her lips. 
“I’m gonna teach you a lesson tonight, OK?” Yn could swear she never saw that gleam in his eyes. “You’re mine and only mine. Ok?” he repeated his last remark, grabbing her chin and turning her face to his. 
“Yes, sir.” 
“Now that’s improving,” Mick nodded, and finally his fingers dragged on her slit, feeling how wet and piling she was for him. He took his time caressing her, circling her clit, and getting so close to inserting his fingers, that Yn wanted to scream at him whenever he retreated.
That was mean.
He knew that was mean.
He was having fun with it all. 
But it did not take him long to push her against the mattress of their bed. Big hands held Yn’s waist in place while she tried to make herself as comfortable as she could, supporting her body on her arms, face down on the pillows, and ass up in the air like a piece of art made for his eyes only. Yn heard the drag of his zippers, and his pants coming down. She heard the material of his shirt, and she heard the slap he gave on her ass too, moaning into the bed. 
She felt dizzy, a rush of ecstasy running through her body when he pushed her panties to the side and bottomed out in one swift motion splitting her in two. She felt her arousal messing where their bodies intertwined and his firm grip on her waist that would certainly leave bruises behind. The cotton of her piece of clothing pushed deliciously against her clit, and she had to register both feelings when Mick draped part of his body on top of her and bit her shoulder. 
“Stay still,” he commanded, and Yn shuddered with how sinful his desire was, “Now show me how much you need me.” She pushed her hips back sending shockwaves through their bodies, starting a lazy pace, with deep but slow strokes.
“I need more, Micky,” Yn cried out, without stopping her movements. She turned her face slightly trying to make eye contact and he caressed her spine with one hand, “Please, give me more, love.” 
And that he did. Mick moved one strong leg to the bed, his other foot planted on the ground, and dived into her pussy with strength and pace, taking moans out of Yn. He felt the sweat start at his hairline, and his hands gripping her waist started to slip, making him sink his short nails into her skin. His frantic moves brought them closer to their orgasms, and when he felt her walls contract against his dick he gripped her neck bringing her back flush to his front, creating a new angle and hitting new spots that made Yn see stars. She gripped his waist and slid her hand to his ass digging her own nails there. 
Mick grunted and lost a bit of the self-control he had, slipping dirty words in German on her ear. 
“You’re taking me so well, being such a good girl for me.”
“All for you, just for you, Mick,” she whimpers moments before he tells her to milk his cock, to let go, to jump off because he’s ready to catch. And Yn does just that. She cums and Mick’s not far behind, giving her just a few more strokes to ride her orgasms and reach his. 
“You look so sexy fucked up like this,” the German mumbles after a second of silence catching his breath. Yn smiles lazily. “But I want one more, give me one more, Schatzi.”
Yn lies on her back now, Mick hovering over her, eyes searching for hers in an attempt to make sure she’s still navigating the same boat, feeling the same waters. There’s a wicked glow in her eyes too. He smirks. 
Still holding eye contact with Yn, Mick drags his shaft on her slit, messing his dick with their juices, before sliding inside again. She purred in his ear, lacing her arms around his broad shoulders. Mick rolled his hips, and Yn bucked hers, looking for relief again. Searching the shockwaves. 
“I’ll never get enough of you,” She confesses, and he grins on her neck, nipping her skin.
“Say my name,” this time his forehead was touching hers, blue orbs trained on hers, and when she moaned his name Mick snapped his lower half, dragging his body against hers. “You’re taking me so well. Always takes me so well. Such a good girl now. I’m obsessed with you. Love you so much, Schatzi,” he praises. 
Mick gives another series of commands, telling Yn not to take her eyes off him, to roll her hips, to dig her nails into his shoulders, and to moan louder. She does it all. She does everything in a trance. Each syllable is pronounced against his lips, each movement is made with the permission of his eyes. There’s too much to gather, too much to concentrate, she feels her body convulsing, a sob passing between her open lips, right before the gates are opened and she’s squirting for the first time. Pussy gushing on Mick and their bed. Making a mess of everything, and making him cum right on the spot while watching everything unfold. His eyes keep going from hers to their joined bodies, to hers again, and he smirks proudly before they both slump in a mess of sweat, cum, and limbs on the bed. 
“That was so hot,” he blushed. After saying the dirtiest things and doing them all, Mick Schumacher blushed. 
“You gotta keep teaching me lessons. I feel like I have so much more to learn,” Yn joked with a giggle, and he kissed her chin. 
“If it depends on how friendly you are, I’m gonna teach you you’re mine after every social gathering.”
“I kinda like this new side of you.”
“Kinda?” he arches his brows. Y/n can almost hear him mentioning the hottest sex they’ve ever had. She smiles.
“A lot, actually. I like it a lot.” 
“I thought so too.”
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― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hiii!! I hope you guys liked it! I just noticed that there's always a hint of softness in the versions of Mick I write, I don't think I was able to portrait him as a reeealy mean!dom, but hopefully it was close enough. Make sure to let me know your thoughts by leaving me an ask and reblogging. Love y'all! And sorry for the people who requested it ages ago, I took my time, but the piece came together hehe
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multi-kpop-fanfics · 5 months
Note
I’m just thinking about tiger hoshi with his little bunny gf and how he would treat her. Soft and gentle or rough and pining her to the bed?
😘 kbye
wifey i love your brain so much
tw: tiger hybrid!soonyoung, bunny hybrid fem!reader, mentions of heat, mirror sex, rough sex, unprotected sex (pls stay safe), breeding kink, choking, manhandling, use of petnames, squirting, power dynamics, established relationship!AU - minors dni.
@horanghater @the-boy-meets-evil @wooahaeproductions
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There are lots of things Soonyoung takes pride in - one of them being his extraordinary sense of smell. Then again, he's a tiger hybrid, so it's expected for him to have one.
But that doesn't make it any less fun for him to spot you just from the sweet smell of your pussy during your heat.
As soon as you walk out of the shower to alleviate your raging hormones, your boyfriend is standing right in front of the door, catching you off guard.
"Fuck - Soonyoung, it's not that hard to knock on a door!" You clutch your bathrobe with your hands.
"Aww, did I scare my pretty little bunny?" He pouts his lips in fake pity, his striped tail swishing back and forth.
"Well yeah! I was peacefully taking a shower and you just appeared in front of me without proper warning!"
Soonyoung pins you back on the wall of the bathroom, his face mere centimeters away from yours.
"Tigers don't alert their prey before striking, bunny."
"S-Stop it with the tiger quotes." You stutter, pussy producing more slick.
"Nah, I don't think I will." He purrs against your neck and his hands untie your bathrobe, letting it drop on the tiled floor.
He runs the tip of his nose over your pulse. "You smell fucking delicious. And it's not just your skin, bunny."
"Soonie, can you fuck me?" You plead him, hand rubbing his nape.
"Can I fuck you in front of the mirror?"
"God, yes."
You walk over to the foggy mirror and swipe it clean with your hand, bending down to present your holes to your boyfriend, a soft growl echoing in the small room.
He glues his body on your back, wrapping one hand around your neck and the other lifting one of your legs up to the sink, giving him enough space to admire your wet hole before slamming his cock inside you.
He enters you with one swift thrust and sets a very unforgiving pace, a mix of feral noises and moans coming out of his mouth.
"I love your pretty bunnycunt so much, it's always so wet and warm for me in your heats." He ruts his hips, slapping your ass as the grip on your throat starts tightening. You can feel yourself getting lightheaded, but just enough to have your senses intact and watch yourself becoming a mess for Soonyoung.
"Look how beautiful - Wish I could make you see how wet and messy your pussy has made my cock," his tongue laps up the skin of your nape, "Makes me want to breed it so bad."
"Please breed me, Soonie, my pussy needs your cubs, baby." You whine and bounce your ass back on his dick, wagging your fluffy tail excitedly.
He changes the angle of his hips just enough to hit the spongey spot in your cunt and you scream in bliss as you squirt all over your legs and the floor, skin covered with your clear fluids.
"That's my little messy bunny bitch." He breathes in your ear as he cums, not halting his thrusts even during his orgasm. Droplets of semen mix in with the remnants of your own orgasm, soiling your legs again.
Once his thrusts slow down, your breaths have already fogged up the mirror again and Soonyoung relaxes the grip on your neck. He takes his cock away and whistles when his eyes fall on the mess of your lower half.
"Fuck, I have to shower again." You pant, running your hand over your folds.
"We can always shower together." He back hugs you, tail wrapping around your legs.
"You're just looking for an excuse to fuck me again!"
"Are you saying you don't want me to?" He raises his eyebrow.
"Soonie, I am a bunny hybrid and I'm in heat." You protest and push your ass back on his half hard dick.
"That's what I thought too, pretty bunny."
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piratefishmama · 8 months
Text
Fake it till you make it | Part 11
“Be careful, Eddie” were Wayne’s words as he hugged his nephew goodbye, knowing he wouldn’t see him for a whole week and honestly still being a little worried about it “if you think even for one minute that something’s off, just… just get out of there, alright?”
“I know, I know, I’ll bolt through the woods and hitchhike my way home, I know the way, Wayne, I got this.” He could read a compass, he’d be able to get a map from any gas station and head home, he was resourceful, an adult, he could handle himself.
“Damn right you got this, son. But… be careful in other ways too, alright? Steve’s a charmin boy, but… remember this ain’t real.” Eddie had bitten his bottom lip at that one, brows furrowed in thought, those big brown eyes of his swirling in emotion, he never did hide his feelings well, it’d always be a little real for him. “Protect this” Wayne poked his chest with a gentle prod, right over Eddie’s heart “okay?”
“Mhm, I will…” he’d try to anyway. Steve really was… charming. An his kisses? God his kisses… but also... it really was the closest he’d ever been to what romance ought to be, what a relationship ought to be, he never thought he’d have that.
The world didn’t appear to be moving fast enough for him to truly experience romance as most people did.
He had to remember that he didn’t have that.
“Eddie! C’mon you’re in the back with me!” Steve called from the garage door, behind which the car was rumbling, their bags packed into the back, Steve’s parents already inside, ready to go. The longest Eddie had ever been away from Wayne since arriving in Hawkins, was three days during a weekend trip to Indy with the band to play at a slightly bigger venue than the Hideout as a one off.
A favour for his favourite gay bar when a live act they’d scheduled pulled out last minute. It hadn’t gotten them a lot of exposure, but it’d been a fun and enlightening night for the band.
“Best get on, son, I’ll see you in a week. Call when you can alright? Don’t care if you wake me up or about no damn time zones, just call, I’ll answer, an if I don’t, you know the plant’s number.” Tight lipped, strained smile, Eddie nodded quickly then turned on his heel and graced Steve with a brilliant smile, game on.
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“I don’t wish to alarm anyone, but... did we miss a turning?” Eddie may have been unusually quiet for the first leg of their journey, nerves having hit him like a truck the second they pulled out of Loch Nora, but he was paying attention to his surroundings.
And those surroundings, were all too quickly, Fort Wayne International Airport.
“You don’t honestly expect rich people to drive the whole way to Canada do you?” Steve’s voice was amused and came from so very close to his ear that he actually jumped, quickly turning in his seat, back plastered against his side of the back seat, eyes wide as he took in and processed what Steve said. “Plus, what would you rather do, spend nearly two days in a car with my parents—”
“We’d make wonderful road trip companions, don’t be rude Steven” came his mother’s interruption
Steve ignored it in favour of continuing his point “—orr… around ten hours in one of those with a brief stop off in Chicago.” Steve leaned inward, uncaring of personal space as he pointed to a plane, ascending into the heavens from the runway.
“I don’t—” he didn’t know. He’d never been on a plane before. Trips like that, across country, they were the stuff of road trip legend, but Steve had a point…
Two whole days of a trip stuck in a car. Or just ten hours. Eddie’s eyes skipped to the window again, to the plane now disappearing beyond the overcast cloud cover.
“It’ll be okay, Eds, I’ll sit right next to you the whole time, you’ll be okay.”
“What if we crash? What if it falls out of the sky? What’ll you do?”
“My best to keep you safe.” It was so earnest, coupled with Steve gently taking his hands and giving them a squeeze, eyes so full of raw honesty, of understanding, it hit Eddie directly in all his soft gooey bits. “I’ll hold your hand through the whole ten hours if you want.”
“Even during the stop in Chicago?”
“Hah, yeah baby, even during the stop in Chicago.”
“They’re a lot more openminded in Chicago too!” Lynda spoke up without turning her head, allowing Eddie to not get stuck on baby for too long “might get a few looks from people passing through the airport but nobody will say anything, and if they do, they deal with us.”
“If we had enough time during the stop we’d have taken a trip around the city, let you boys see some of the sights we’ve seen, but alas, our connection gives us an hour at most depending on everything being on time, and that’s just enough time to get us from one gate to the next.” John added as he pulled into the long stay parking lot. “Maybe some other time, some other family trip, eh Eddie?”
Eddie’s wide eyes turned to the front of the car, then back to Steve again, lips parted ever so slightly in surprise. Not surprise over the words used, but the feeling those words caused. Family trip. They were including him on future family trips.
Steve’s eyes quickly snapped from him to the front of the car and back again, then a warm smile blossomed on his lips. He lifted his hand and ever so carefully brushed a stray curl back behind Eddie’s ear, and asked so softly as his thumb lowered to brush along his jawline. “Right, Eddie?”
“Y-yeah… yeah I’d… I’d love that.” He turned his head fully toward the drivers seat, he’d never been too good at hiding his emotions, so maybe he was just a little choked up when he accepted the offer “I’d really love that.”
“Great!” The car came to a stop in one of the many parking bays, ignition off, driver side door opened “It’s settled then.” Settled. Eddie would privately mourn the knowledge that it’d never come to fruition, but… on the surface he could pretend he was excited for a future trip for the sake of the ruse. “Now boys if you could get the bigger bags out the trunk that’d be a big help! This back of mine isn’t as sturdy as it used to be.”
“You’re forty-six and go jogging almost every morning, don’t be stupid John.” Lynda whapped her husband with her handbag in gentle, semi-amused admonishment before getting out of the car.
Followed by her husband who, in a hushed tone replied with “don’t tell them that, Lynda, save us the work.” Leaving the two boys to breathe soft laughs between themselves before they too joined the older couple out in the parking lot.
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“Steve...” Eddie hissed as they neared check-in.
“What?”
“I have weed” said through his teeth.
“What?” Steve paused.
“I have weed… I have weed in my suitcase.”
“You have what?!” Steve rounded on him, sentence ended with a pointed hiss
“I didn’t know we’d be flying to Canada, Steve, maybe you should tell people when you’re planning on launching them into the troposphere in a death tube!”
“Why would you bring weed on a holiday with my parents, Eddie?!”
“SHHHH, be quiet. I thought I might need it to chill out if I was freaking out at some point during the week like right now, I could really do with it right now.”
“Oh my god.”
“Steven? Is something wrong?” Lynda’s voice had them both snapping to attention, eyes wide, caught in the act. Luckily she had no idea what that ‘act’ was.
“Nope! No, uh, Eddie’s just gotta… use the bathroom real quick.”
“Well, there’s bathrooms in the business class lounge he can—"
“No! It’s uhm, it’s urgent, can’t wait, he’s uh…”
“Nerves, it’s uh, it’s nerves, I think imma hurl” she looked between them with a small frown on her face, assessing them both, it seemed like whatever she found wasn’t worth arguing about though, because she waved them off with a quick flick of her wrist.
“Alright fine, hurry up. Steven you know where the closest ones are go on now quickly before we’re late for check in, we’ll double check everything here.” John was already pausing to check through all their documents like a regular airport dad, it was the third time he’d done it since entering the airport.
“Alright let’s go, Eds, lets deal with your little problem.” At least he was soft-handed when he manhandled Eddie to the nearest bathroom, patchy suitcase with a squeaky wheel wobbling away behind them. Once inside, he checked each stall individually, before quickly turning on a wide eyed Eddie. “Where is it?” Eddie pointed down at the suitcase, and Steve snapped to action, lifting, and placing Eddie’s suitcase down on the slightly damp row of sinks. “Did you pack any liquid soaps?”
“Uhhh…” Eddie was too busy staring at the flex of Steve’s arms as he just. Lifted that whole very packed suitcase in one hoist. Fuck.
“Any shampoo? Conditioner?”
“I—I feel like my answer is going to make you mad so I’m just not going to answer.” Which on its own, was a pretty damning answer, and Steve’s expression told him as such “I don’t have a twelve step hair care routine like you do, Steve! I just… I have drug store shampoo and conditioner and that’s really only when it’s on a two for one sale! Usually I just—"
“If you say you water it down to make it last longer I’m going to throw the first thing I find in this suitcase at you.”
“Shutting up. I just thought I’d buy it there if I needed it, or just borrow yours, I know you brought some, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well then, I figured that… if I borrowed yours it’d make it seem like I just… wanted… to smell like you?”
“You just made that up.” Eddie just smiled, all teeth and dimples, scrunching his shoulders inwards in an unfairly cute display of mischief. “You’re a menace, Munson. Get your stuff out of there for me. Don’t ever put weed in checked luggage.”
“But—”
“TSA does random checks on checked luggage all the time, an while they’re not usually looking for weed, it’ll get launched and you might get fined. Whereas you can hide weed in just about anything in a carry on, just shows up as vague blurred shit on the x-ray scanners. Just be cool when you shove it through.” Steve was rummaging in the front of his own bag now, “be cool, and act natural.”
“You sound like you’ve done this before.”
“Mn once or twice, Tommy was a dick, but his cousin worked for the TSA for a few years, gave us all kinds’a neat tricks to get things through the airport.” Tommy’s cousin had gotten fired and a year inside for attempting to smuggle narcotics out of the confiscated items lock up, but that was neither here nor there. “Gimmie what you have.” Hand outstretched, Steve waited until Eddie placed the single baggie containing three roll ups and a few loose buds “Christ Eddie.”
“I knew I’d be nervous! Stop being mean to me!” Steve rolled his eyes before taking the three roll ups out of the baggie
“Your smokes, give em.” Plenty of room in the pack to slot the three roll ups, and as for the buds, Steve emptied out his travel sized bottle of hand lotion into the sink and stuffed the whole plastic bag into the little bottle, then screwed the lid on tight. Nobody would look twice at a rich kids hand lotion. “Now wet the ends of your hair.”
“What?”
“Your hair butthead! Wet it, we told my mother you’d be in here hurling your guts up, so… you got some in your hair, it’s a good extra to add to the ruse, now do it.”
“So my own boyfriend wouldn’t even hold my hair back if I threw up? Where’s the romance, where’s the commitment, where’s the care and—”
“Dude you have a lot of hair, I doubt I could get it all in my hand at once.” Although now that thought was in his head… could he? Could he get a good fistful and hold it there? Not important. “I’d drop bits.” A flimsy argument, he wouldn’t drop anything.
“Uh-huh, sure you would, big boy.” Eddie quickly dampened the tips of his hair, and ran a wet hand through his bangs quickly in a bid to fake flop sweat, theatrics over and done with. “Zipper-up, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”
Part 13
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