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#and i have this big table i got with the idea that i would do puzzles on it with my grandma and we've only ever done that literally once
thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 days
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just for tonight
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a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).
summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 
warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie
word count: 4907
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“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”
“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always. 
“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”
Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing. 
But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side. 
It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow. 
Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking. 
You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.
“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you. 
“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips. 
“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.” 
A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”
The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late. 
You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.
“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”
“Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”
“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you. 
A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you. 
The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit. 
Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep. 
When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed. 
Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form. 
But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.
“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut. 
And so, he didn’t.
Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed. 
Barely an hour passed before you woke. 
Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain. 
Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath. 
“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times. 
“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–, uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.” 
“Did you have a nightmare?”
“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”
As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”
Your eyes then widened, “I did?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”
“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug. 
Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you. 
“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked. 
“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.” 
A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.” 
Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door. 
Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”
He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.
When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine. 
As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.
And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer. 
But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back. 
“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”
“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”
“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”
A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”
“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”
“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.” 
Can’t or won’t?
Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 
As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips. 
It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen. 
As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.  
Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks. 
With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips. 
“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features. 
“Yes,” you whispered swiftly. 
But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”
“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin. 
“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone. 
“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core. 
“To what, huh?” 
“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth. 
“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.
“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you. 
“Say it again,” he tilted his chin. 
“I want you to fuck me.”
“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well. 
“I want you to fuck me.”
“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks. 
“I want you to fuck me, please!” 
With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.
Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra. 
Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.
Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well. 
You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off. 
Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours. 
Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle. 
The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff. 
When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch. 
Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy. 
A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit. 
“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch. 
“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”
“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.
“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.” 
Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.
Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess. 
“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.
Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper. 
When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity. 
Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him. 
With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him. 
The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you. 
Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him. 
“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”
Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up. 
Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic. 
When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free. 
“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal. 
Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?” 
“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.” 
“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.  
“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh. 
“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.” 
“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…” 
“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times. 
“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”
“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach. 
Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.
“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets. 
“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.
“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately. 
“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”
“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside. 
His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him. 
Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open. 
Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him. 
Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.
“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”
One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach. 
“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”
“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up. 
A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable. 
He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth. 
“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”
With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below. 
Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit. 
The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.
“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own. 
“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.
Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace. 
The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back. 
“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”
“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half. 
“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.” 
And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.
His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own. 
You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.
After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table. 
“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.
“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south. 
“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?” 
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hotchfiles · 3 days
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— help me hold onto you • aaron hotchner
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fem!reader, unprotected vaginal sex, a bit of angst.
he knew he would be in trouble whenever he turned those keys. what he wasn’t expecting was how big the trouble would be. he had no idea he would open the door to three bags full of clothes and other things he left at your place as the months passed, waiting for him.
“darling? what–what are these?” he asks even though he knows the answer, hoping you want to at least talk about it before making any harsh decisions. you’ve been in a relationship for almost a year now and it works. it always worked.
normally you wouldn’t drink before an argument, still when he gets to the kitchen he sees you calmly sipping on a tall glass of wine, fingers tapping on the table, hair up, face clean but red, you were in your pajamas already, nothing like you probably looked hours before.
“what’s the only thing i asked of you, aaron?” you don’t move, don’t glance up at him, eyes focused solely on how the purplish red liquid moved in your glass, taking a big sip right after.
aaron sighs in frustration, he didn’t want this to become a fight. he was so tired. “i know, i’m sorry–”
“answer the question, please.”
“don’t make promises i can’t keep.” he takes his tie off quickly, suddenly feeling suffocated by the fabric surrounding his neck. that’s why your relationship worked, you knew he was busy and his schedule was unpredictable, so very early on you accepted it as it was, saying you wouldn’t be mad at him as long as he didn’t break any promises. if you’re not sure, don’t promise me you will be able to make it.
first months he wouldn’t promise you anything, too afraid to break it, to disappoint you.
he watches as you take the wine in a mouthful and refills the glass, the bottle now empty and starts getting frustrated, you’re a loud drunk and you’re surely already getting tipsy.
this was the first time he slipped up, it didn’t need to be such a big deal, it didn’t avail to having his things right at the door as if he was getting kicked out. all the other times he promised he could take time off, he did it. just–teens were getting kidnapped, the team needed him.
“we saved two girls today.” low blow. but it was true, he wasn’t back in time because of that, he got on the jet instead of staying back to do that. to save two thirteen year old girls. not some futile reason. it had to count for something.
“i’m proud of you for that, aaron. are you proud of me? for the promotion we were supposed to celebrate with my boss? or are our accomplishments only worth it when it’s about saving someone?” you raise your voice only slightly, the alcohol from the sweet wine getting to you slowly and then all at once.
you always tried your best to keep your voice down when arguing with him, simply because he never raised his, and it could be an endearing feature if it didn’t look like he did it to look like the rational one, the right one.
“that’s not what i said–”
“i know what you said. you want to make the fact you let me down okay because you did a wonderful thing someplace else. that’s not how it works.” you open the second bottle of wine of the night, feeling his eyes on your back. “i want you to leave.”
“you know this is ridiculous, you’re acting like a child.” sore spot. you were a few years younger and that had never been a problem. but he couldn’t go back now, he could see the anger darkening your eyes, your knuckles turning white by the strength you’re using to grip on the edge of the table.
“how am i a child?” you begin slowly and keeping your voice down, you get up finally from the chair you had been sitting, facing him directly, his instincts make him try to touch your arms, but you dodge it quickly. “we had an agreement. you broke it. am i a child for not giving you permission to hurt me again?”
he knows you’re about to snap, your chest coming up and down in rapid breaths, and he doesn’t feel particularly in the right, he knows he screwed up and he’s sorry, but your reaction is out of proportion to him, an exaggeration made to make him feel more guilty than he already does. “i said you’re acting like a child. the one time things don’t go your way and you’re packing me out?” aaron almost feels the sharpness of a slap but he’s quick enough to grab your wrist. “see? proving my point.”
“how many times do i have to accept you screwing up so i can be seen as mature?” you yank your arm out of his grip and go back to your drink, “same times as haley? how many times did she forgive you so you could go around and do it all again?”
lower blow.
hotch feels it right in his core and he’s angry at you for bringing up but more so angry at himself because you were right. still, it is anger nonetheless that guides his next actions, quickly and firmly walking up to you, caging you against the table in sudden movements.
your breath hitches from the surprise, and your attempt to move is stopped by his roughed hands on your chin, firm but never close to hurting. “i’m not leaving.” you wince, not in fear of him, but of how easy he can make your mind go blank when he’s that close.
his eyes go from your eyes to your lips, he notices your failed attempt to conceal the way you licked your lips, he glances at your chest, heavy breathing under your thin pajama shirt, nipples hardening against the fabric.
damn you for choosing wine.
hotch reads your mind almost, but his smirk doesn’t last too long displayed on his lips, your hands pulling him by the neck, a low groan followed by a “fuck this” leaving your wine tasting lips just mere seconds before gluing to his.
eager to get your forgiveness, he is quick to follow your lead, both hands sneaking under your clothes, one down the waistband of your shorts, grabbing hard on the flesh of your ass, the other drawing soft circles on your nipple.
you melt into the kiss, his lips, his hands, his scent, him. and you have no time to feel bad about it, pulled up to sit on the table, legs around his waist, you can feel how hard he is against your wetness.
a pained whimper leaves his lips when you use the new position to grind onto him, needing something, anything against your clit at this point.
aaron sinks his teeth into your bottom lip to get your full attention, earning a loud moan in response, his hands travel your thighs and you pull his shirt out his pants so you can feel his skin under your fingertips, not bothering to unbutton them and working with what you got under it.
his lips travel your neck and your collarbone, “i love you, so, so much”. his declaration comes in between kisses and the sucking of your skin, “please don’t make me leave after this.” it comes in a whisper now, but he doesn’t stop, pushing your shorts down and sliding it down till it drops to the floor with your help.
“just shut up and take your pants off.”
“you know i can only do one of those.” it makes you laugh and you sink your nails to the bit of fat on his side, the tiniest bit of annoyance at how easy he had you in the palm of his hand and how he didn’t even seem to know it truly.
on the edge of the table sliding his hard cock into your folds was an easy feat, pants, shoes and his boxers long gone, his socks stayed on almost making him lose balance as he feels just how wet you are. he drops his head, forehead on your shoulder
“fuck—oh my god, you are so wet, you’re always so wet for me.” it isn’t arrogant, it’s appreciative almost, you move his head so you can look at him, hot, sweaty already, cheeks so red as his eyes were glassy, the mix of lust and love and regret clear in his dark caramel irises.
you kiss him once more, sweet, forgiving and he takes this as his sign to continue, pushing you down the table, hotch holds your thighs for support, plunging his cock into your wet cunt with ease, bottoming out at the first thrust. you enjoyed the stretching pain and you never had the patience to wait.
lower lips between your teeth, you slide one of your hands to your clit, two fingers working your arousal, quickly replaced by aaron’s calloused fingers. you arch your back and moan loudly, “fuck, yes, and move.”
it feels like an order and for hotch it is one, he is delighted to oblige, maintaining the same finger moves on your clit and beginning to fuck your pussy, strong, firm and precise at first.
“honey, fuck—please…” his begging is meant to warn you that if you keep clenching around him he won’t be able to control himself, you almost don’t listen, fingers working on your own nipples enjoying the high he is always able to get you in.
“aaron—i’m… fuck, don’t stop, you’re so good.”
the praising, the guidance, the reassurance, it makes the moans leaving his lips seem like whining, he enjoys it too much.
“yeah? like this?” the way your hands try to grab him is enough answer to him, along with how tight your pussy is throbbing against him, you’re almost there, he can feel it.
his movements on your clit get sloppier, the sight and sound of your wetness against his digits making him go insane. your back arches once more and your whole body begin to squirm, the tight coil in your lower belly finally ripping, “yes, fuck—“ you’re breathless, weak, but you still have it in you to edge him in, “aaron, baby, cum for me, please.”
he would be crazy to do anything but, so quickly you ask him and his hands are hoisting both your legs over his shoulders, getting a new, deeper position, it doesn’t take long for you to feel him filling you up, “i can’t live without you, you’re so, so good for me” his lasts broken words before letting himself go.
you don’t move and neither does he, his dick softening inside you, his hands caging you in the table and his head dropped to his chest, both just trying to recover.
“aaron?”
“yes, sweetheart?”
“you can stay.” he looks at you with nothing but love and happiness and gratitude, “but if you screw up again do not try fucking me into forgiving you, i’ll chop your dick off.”
“you like it too much to do that.” his grin is sincere, feeling finally free to joke around you, he gets out of you and you whine at the loss. “see?”
“bite me.”
“gladly.”
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princessbrunette · 2 days
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𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃a continuation from the rafe and puppy universe…(click me) ࣪
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rafe doesn’t always treat puppy!reader so nicely. infact, sometimes she really tests his patience.
he drags you through the front door to tannyhill with a hand wrapped around your arm — thick gold rings wound round his fingers undoubtedly leaving bruises in their wake as he yanks you inside. you can’t keep up with his long strides, tripping over and having the eldest cameron repeatedly carry the entirety of your weight with his hand everytime you stumbled— wrenching you back to your feet.
whilst this occurs, he lectures you through grit teeth — at the end of his tether. “what’d i tell you huh? what’d i fuckin’ tell you ‘bout manners?” he asks and you’re not sure if it’s rhetorical, letting him march you up the stairs to his bedroom.
“its no big deal—” you hiccup through pained whines as you try to pull away from his stern grip, only making him tighten it.
“nah, nah — you knew exactly what you were doing at the country club. running that mouth when i — i specifically told you to behave today.”
there had been a very high class event, ward forcing rafe to take you along to get you accustomed to the kook-lifestyle after so long of slumming it at the other side of the island. you were ditsy, but not dumb — you saw the way the camerons looked at you, with pity — like you simply weren’t made for this world. thats why you got so attached to rafe, he didn’t pity you. it was tough love, so you assumed — the boy constantly lecturing and berating you but would be the first to save you from any potentially damaging or dangerous situations, and god forbid anyone spoke to you as poorly as he did.
the afternoon was unsavable from the start. you may have been responsible for the large chocolate fountain at the food table falling, you’d accidentally insulted the president of the country club to his face, you’d mistakenly smeared food on the back of rafe’s shirt, and when rafe was rightfully lecturing you for that — you bit him. you bit him infront of one of the important businessmen he had been trying to impress. you understood his anger for once, you’d messed up.
he tosses you onto his bed making you stumble onto it, turning around to watch the way the boy angrily rifles through his dresser drawers, furiously continue to ramble at you. “you know i’ve been saving this, yeah — saving this from when you really messed up. ‘cos i knew you would. you’re a pogue, and you’ll always be one. and — and i’ve been here, tryna look after the runt of the litter — and yet you still disrespect me.” he shakes his head and you watch forlornly, watching him find what he was looking for and begin to pull it out.
“well you wanna run that mouth? wanna— wanna bite me in public? i’m gonna have t’treat you like the dirty pogue puppy you are— okay? didnt wanna have to do this kid but you leave me no choice. s’gotta be me to discipline you, alright? c’mere.” in his hand, you instantly recognise to be some form of muzzle. like the type you’d see on a dog, but this time perfectly crafted to fit a female face. you’d had no idea where he’d got such a cruel item, he had to have had it custom made just to shut you up, a sick fantasy he’d been sitting on. you cower, and he’s unphased.
he undoes the buckles on the side so that he can put it on you, but not before yanking your hands to his belt and leaving them there. “undo this. you’re gonna wear this, n’then you’re gonna let me take what i want from you. a’ight? i’m in charge. you’re gonna learn your damn lesson whether you like it or not.”
you whine as you obey him, trembling fingers fumbling for his belt. the worst part about this, was that you couldn’t deny your arousal. the manhandling, the degrading — you were a sensitive girl, who had sensitive needs, but something about the boy you had such a crush on, the same boy who would deny reluctantly cuddling you to sleep when you had a bad dream that one time, treating you so mean was making your cunt ache with need.
“i’m not gonna bite, i just want to kiss again.” you wail weakly as he brings the muzzle to your face, scoffing out a chuckle that read directly as ‘fat fucking chance’. rafe had kissed you a few times. moments of weakness. he couldn’t deny his feelings for you but — well, actually yes he could. he did deny his feelings for you, and often too. he was head over heels and he didn’t like that.
“kiss? you— you think you deserve a kiss after the way you behaved today?” once the muzzle is fastened and you’re staring up at him with big watery puppy dog eyes, he finishes up with yanking off his belt and undoing his zipper, trying to ignore how your pitiful expression looked. rafe was mean but he wasn’t an idiot— he knows you didn’t mean to be the way you were. you were innocent, naive — but god if taking advantage of that didn’t get him off.
his heart twinges at the sorry look on your face so he flips you over onto your front on the bed, body sprawled out and bouncing from the force. “nah…” he answers his own question as he tugs your dress up your back to reveal your soaked through panties between trembling thighs. he thumbs at the wet patch above where your hole sits meanly, scoffing. “you’re gonna shut up and take this dick. maybe then you’ll get your damn kiss.”
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avocad1s · 3 days
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Trial By Combat - 6
Requested By: No one. Original Work
CW: manipulation?
Summary: Arlecchino’s got a secret…
Note: You all asked and I will provide! Here’s part six <3 this chapter is a bit slow but I promise it’s leading up to something great!
Part One —> Part Five
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-
Fontaine, for the most part, had finally begun to go back to normal. Although no trials have been held since the Creators trial, many shops have reopened their doors to the public once more. It’s as if Fontainians want to disregard the event entirely, treating it as a work of fiction like the Prophecy. However, this doesn’t stop The Steambird from posting every single update regarding the Creator, nor does it stop every copy from selling out.
Despite the lack of trials, it hasn’t prevented the Chief Justice from sending criminals to the Fortress of Meropide, and only hours from now, Paimon and Aether would be a part of the group sent there. The two were the only customers dining at Cafe Lutece this afternoon, the owner seemed almost eager to provide the gluttonous amount of food the duo had ordered.
“Oh Paimon is feeling a bunch of nerves right now and it’s just making her more hungry.” She whines while rubbing her stomach. “I’m just hoping that the food in the Fortress is actually tasty.”
Aether lets out a soft chuckle, “it’s a prison Paimon. I doubt that the food will be any good”
Paimon pouts crossing her arms. “Hopefully will be rightfully compensated for our due diligence. Oh! Maybe even something from the Creator themselves!”
The traveler gives her a look, “you shouldn’t think like that Paimon, not when they are currently missing right now.”
The travel guide immediately covers her lips, muttering out a small apology.
“Speaking of the Creator,” Paimon says, “do you really think Childe might know something? I mean, we’ve heard how he’s talked about them before.”
It was true, during their time in Liyue when they had met Childe, he had expressed how heavily he revered the Creator. Not just him, all of the harbingers they’ve met have mentioned the Creator in a positive light. Aether even recalls when the Wanderer told him that the only thing all of the harbingers could agree on was their ultimate respect for them.
“Based off our interactions with the Fatui before, they might have some respect for Their Grace. But we still have no idea why they want the Gnosis, maybe it’s connected to the Creator.”
Paimon nods in agreement. “You’re right. If the gnosis are what connect the Archons to Celestia, then maybe the Creator has something similar?”
“Hopefully if the Fatui got their hands on Their Grace, they haven’t left Fontaine yet. We should still be able to rescue them.” Aether adds.
“Paimon hopes so too! Oh I can only imagine the type of horrors they could be putting them through!”
“Are you talking about Their Grace?!”
A familiar girl with a pink bob holding a camera in her head pops out of a bush quickly approaching the table. It was Charlotte, and she had a large smile on her face.
“Do you two have any nuggets of information about Their Grace? Oh please share it with me, I’ll make it worth your while!”
Paimon and Aether share a look before looking back at the journalist.
“We don’t have any new information on The Creator.” Paimon explained, “we didn’t even know they had returned until Monsieur Neuvillette told us.”
Charlotte makes a look of surprise, “wait seriously? It was such big news! I’m sure everyone in Teyvat wrote the piece I had written.”
Charlotte places her camera on the table taking a seat across from them. “I’m just hoping for Their Grace to have a speedy recovery. I would love to interview them if they let me, it just seems like all of the big names in Fontaine never have the time for an interview. Monsieur Neuvillette and the Duke of Meropide have been on the top of my list for ages now!”
“Oh right, you’re a journalist Charlotte! ” Paimon exclaimed, “do you have an information about the Duke?”
Charlotte ponders for a moment, “not really, just the same regurgitated information I get from people who leave the Fortress. Why do you ask?”
“We actually are going to the Fortress later today.” Aether answers.
Charlotte’s eyes get as big as saucers as she’s jumping in her seat. “You two are going to the Fortress?! Will you two please get some information about the Duke for me?
Noticing the restrained looks on their face, Charlotte quickly adds, “I’ll pay for your meal! Yeah…! Let’s make it a deal, you get information on the Duke for me and this meal of yours is on me!”
Paimon grins, “it’s a deal!”
Charlotte shares Paimon’s enthusiasm as she pulls out a small bag of mora ready to pay for the meal. At that moment, the owner returns with multiple plates and bowls filled with various amounts of entrees and desserts wheeling it to the table.
“H—how much did you order…?”
———
Many journalist stood outside of the Palais Mermonia demanding answers from their Archon who had entered the building earlier that morning. Luckily, gardes stood outside preventing anyone from entering.
Inside of the chief justice’s office was him, the God of Justice, and the Champion Duelist whose hair was damp with sea water.
“I checked the surrounding area,” Clorinde says, “there is no traces of Their Grace anywhere. The only logical conclusion is that the Fatui must’ve done something with them.”
Neuvillette nods. “Thank you for looking Clorinde, your help is appreciated.”
Clorinde nods, “it’s no trouble. We all want Their Grace to be found safe and sound.”
Furina had a worried look on her face as she paces back and forth in the office. “W—what are we supposed to do now? We looked all over Fontaine and they aren’t anywhere.”
“Lady Furina.”
Furina stops pacing, turning her gaze over to Neuvillette who looked calm considering the situation. “I think it’s time to meet with the Kanve, wouldn’t you agree?”
“T—that Knave?” Furina stammers, “ha, why would we meet with her? Don’t we have more important things to worry about?”
Neuvillette clears his throat, “until we find Their Grace, we must operate like normal. If the others find out that we lost Their Grace—“
Furina lets out a breath putting on a confident stance, “yes! Right of course!” She interrupts, “I was thinking the same thing… I will prepare for the two of us to discuss relations with her as soon as possible.”
“Who said that I would be joining you?”
Focalors lets out a short gasp as she quickly approaches his desk, her gloved hands balling into fists. “Y—you expect me to attend the meeting alone! No! You must go with me!”
Neuvillette closes his eyes as he shake her head, “I must focus all my attention on the Creator, we must locate them before the rest of Fontaine and Teyvat begin asking questions. As the Archon, this is something you should be able to handle. Correct?”
Furina tenses slightly but lets out a sigh. “But… wouldn’t attending the meeting be the best thing for Their Grace?”
Neuvillette furrows his brows, “What do you mean?”
Furina’s confident flair was back just as quickly as it dissipated, “Attending the meeting will give us the chance to indirectly interrogate the harbingers before she even knows that we suspect her.”
Noticing the look on the chief justice’s face, Furina lets out a boastful laugh. “Naturally I, the God of Justice, would be the first one to think of this! Worry not Neuvillette, I believe that after this meeting, the truth shall be revealed!”
Clorinde mutters how she needed a towel and Neuvillette lets out a sigh.
“Very well... I will participate in the meeting.”
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In between Fontaine’s Lumidouce Harbor and Chenyu Vale, a large ship was anchored the familiar insignia imprinted in the sail. There was a plethora of Fatui agents stationed on the ship that it was overwhelming, it would be impossible to infiltrate the ship without being spotted.
Many of the agents weren’t even aware why there was such an urgency to return to the homeland. Curious glances and whispers spread throughout the ship like wildfire, wondering what could the Knave possibly be doing in the lower deck that no one else was allowed to enter unless they brought news from Fontaine. All of them knew better than to question their harbinger, but she hadn’t been seen since the night before.
“Your Grace.”
Arlecchino’s soft voice cuts through your thoughts. Fontaine was in danger and you were the only one who could help, at least that’s what she believed. It was only a matter of time before the nation was completely wiped off the map, Lady Furina has done nothing but bury her head in the sand.
You glance at her face, despite her sharp features she still had a soft yet powerful air around her. Maybe that’s why the children from the House of the Hearth trust her so much.
“Are you hungry? I have chefs on board, they can prepare anything you desire.” Her hand rested on top of yours, her long nails rubbing against your knuckles in a comforting way.
You were famished. You knew she was capable of, but she was making you feel so welcomed. It felt as if you could trust her, tell her anything and she would understand.
You nod slowly and she smiles.
“I’ll be right back.”
She stands up from her spot next to you leaving the room. Her luscious black and white hair that was pulled into a low ponytail flowed behind her. Arlecchino returned quickly letting out a soft sigh.
“They are preparing a Snezhnayian specialty, the food is quite delicious. I hope it’s to your liking” She commented placing her hand right back on top of yours.
“We will be heading towards Snezhnaya at sunset.” She says. “Although leaving Fontaine wasn’t originally apart of my plan, but considering the circumstances, changes had to be made.”
You furrow your brows. “The circumstances?”
Arlecchino nods. “Your power…or rather, lack there of.”
“I have a colleague, I do not trust nor like him very much but I cannot deny his intelligence, I believe he may be able to figure out the answer… or even Her Majesty may know.”
So there was a colleague within the Fatui who had extreme intelligence that might be able to help you. Maybe he would even know why you were healing so quickly? Or does that tie into your “godly” abilities too?
“Is that why we are leaving so quickly? Because of my supposed amnesia?” You ask.
The Knave shakes her head, “not necessarily. It’s mainly for your safety, you don’t wish to stay in a nation that tried to kill you, right Your Grace?”
You were forced into a corner with that question. Wanting to stay in a nation that almost killed you was bad, but wanting to go to a nation that had the capability to kidnap you wasn’t any better. Yet you had to pick your poison, and in that moment you decided—
“Right.” You reply. “Leaving Fontaine is the smartest option.”
“I knew that you would see it my way,” she praises, “I only want what’s best for you and all of Teyvat.” She gives your hand a squeeze a small smile spreading on her red lips.
A small knock on the door interrupts the moment, Arlecchino looks at the door her gaze becoming icy. “You may enter.”
The door opens and a young lady whose face is obscured by a mask enters and she immediately kneels.
“Y—your Grace… Lady Harbinger.” Her voice was almost breathless, her gaze transfixed on you. “I have news from Fontaine.”
Arlecchino lets out a sigh crossing her legs. “News? What is it?”
“Focalors has agreed to have a political meeting with you. The chief justice Neuvillette will also be attending.”
The Knave doesn’t even try to hide the smirk that spreads on her face, “Very well then. Was there a time mentioned for this meeting?”
“In the next few hours Lady Harbinger. We’ve already got a boat ready to return back to Fontaine’s harbor.”
Arlecchino stands, her gaze becomes soft once more when she looks back at you. “Your Grace, I will return as soon as I can. If you have any needs anyone on the ship will be more than happy to serve you.”
She exchanges a few whispers with the agent before giving you one last smile leaving the bottom deck. The agent looks at you one last time before stuttering out.
“I—I’ll go get your meal immediately Your Grace!” She rushes out of the door leaving you alone once more.
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The Fortress of Meropide was more grand than Aether had anticipated. Surrounded by Fontaine’s sea, there was no escape from this prison besides the path they embarked, which was at the rear of the Opera Epiclese.
After heaving their mugshots taken, Aether and Paimon are escorted onto a ship where they meet their tour guide, who is also just another prisoner within the Fortress. The entire tour he was standoffish and dry only giving the required amount of information. If the two asked for more information about credit coupons, secret rules, or about the Creator, he would say they’d have to pay for that.
The prisoner leads the two down the large hallway of the Fortress when multiple gardemeks came around the corner. The traveler immediately takes a stance ready for a fight when a voice eases his worries coming around the corner with the machinery.
“Welcome to the Fortress of Meropide,” the man greets. He had dark clothing and dark hair with a scar under his eye.
“Y—your Grace!” The tour guide quickly says, his standoffish nature immediately disappears. “Lovely weather we’re having!”
The man glances over at the tour guide, “Hm? Oh yes, I guess the weather is nice. If we could see it.”
The prisoner lets out an awkward laugh as the Duke looks back at Paimon and Aether. “I’m Wriothesley, but you can call me Your Grace.”
“You’re the Duke of Meropide?” Paimon asks in a shocked tone. Wriothesley nods.
“So, how was your tour?” He asks, “was everything up to standard?”
Aether glances as the tour guide for a moment before giving Wriothesley a firm nod. “Yep. No complaints here.”
“Wonderful.” Wriothesley smiles, “I think we should be able to reward you with more credit coupons then?”
“T—thank you Your Grace! Thank you!” The tour guide says. He then looks over at the traveler, “and thank you for such kind words! If you ever need anything! Anything at all! Please come find me!”
Once he rushes off, the Duke turns his attention back onto the newcomers.
“So, is it normal for you to greet all newbies in person like this?” Paimon asks.
Wriothesley lets out a soft laugh. “No it’s not. I just heard that you two were friends with Neuvillette so I figured I finish the tour myself.”
“Wait, how do you know that?” Aether questions.
“The Fortress might look like it’s cut off from the rest of the world but word still travels fast. Just like what happened to Their Eminence.”
Paimon glances at the traveler briefly. Wriothesley continues, “Many people in the Fortress were ready to leave just for a chance at seeing the Creator. But since they are still in the hospital recovering, I managed to keep them under control.”
“What else do you know about the Creator?” Aether asks.
“Nothing really.” He responds, “I haven’t had the time to leave the Fortress and go visit them myself. Unless you’re talking about the basic information, there’s books all around the Fortress that can tell you that.”
Wriothesley continues on with the tour, showing the where the so-called cafeteria was, the Pankration Ring, and where they would report to work everyday. He also mentions Sigewinne, the nurse who looks after anyone who gets hurt or sick.
Lastly, he shows them where they’ll be sleeping. As he explains the procedures for their room, Aether gazes falls onto someone walking nearby. An oddly familiar magician.
Lyney stops walking and looks back at him, but once Wriothesley notices, Lyney lets out a soft laugh doing a dramatic bow.
“Well hello there Your Grace! It’s lovely to see you out of your office!”
Wriothesley crosses his arms, “it’s good to see you too, but shouldn’t you be reporting to work?”
The magician gives him a cheeky smile as he stands back up, “of course! That’s where I was heading right now! But these two must be very important to get a personal tour from the Duke himself.”
Wriothesley says nothing in response but Lyney quickly excuses himself, his gaze falling onto Aether once more before walking out of sight.
“Come on,” Wriothesley says, “there’s one last stop I’d like to make.”
———
The three sit at one of the tables in the cafeteria, the chef bringing over three welfare meals. They remove the lids revealing the delectable meals inside causing Paimons mouth to water.
“Oh is this what the food is like in the Fortress?” She rubes her hands together, “Paimon could get used to this!”
“Actually, I managed to pull a few strings to get this meal, after today, you might not get another meal like this.”
The fairy didn’t seem to be paying attention as she keeps shoving more food into her mouth. The traveler rolls his eyes at his companion, looking back at the Duke.
“So you said there was books in the Fortress about the Creator?” Aether asks, his fork pushing around his meal mindlessly.
Wriothesley nods. “There are groups within the Fortress to make people feel more welcome or comfortable. There’s quite a few revolved around Their Eminence. Prayer groups, wanting a stronger relationship, or just normal worship in general, they’re actually pretty popular.”
Paimon swallows the food in her mouth, “How do you feel about them?”
Wriothesley ponders for a second, “I don’t know anyone who has a negative view on Their Eminence, including myself. I would be honored to go up to the surface soon and share a cup of tea with them.”
Aether didn’t say anything in response, but he had a feeling that Wriothesley knew more about the Creator than he let on. He did say word travels fast from the surface, is it possible he already knows the Creator is missing?
“Anyways,” Wriothesley says, “I have other things to attend to, enjoy your time in the Fortress and try not to cause any trouble.”
The Duke gives one last farewell, leaving the table without another word. Aether and Paimon continue eating their welfare meals preparing themselves to adjust to their new situation and figure what exactly Childe may know about the Creator.
———
“You were right.”
In a dark corner of the Fortress, the twins from the House of the Hearth spoke in quiet whispers.
“Paimon and the Traveler, I just saw them.” Lyney explained.
Lynette’s ear lay flat on her head, her tail swaying slightly. “Monsieur Neuvillette must’ve told them and they’re here to investigate.”
“We have to do what Father told us to do.“ Lyney adds, “although playing ignorant to figure what they know won’t hurt either.”
Lynette lets out a sigh. “…and what about Tartaglia?”
Lyney shrugs, “what about him? He’s not here. We have to focus on the Creator. Without Their Grace, the Fatui won’t be able to—“
“I know.” Lynette interrupts. “Let’s just focus on the traveler for now.
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“I must say, the timing of this meeting seems almost convient…” Arlecchino narrows her gaze as she brings her teacup up to her lips.
“I’ll just cut straight to the chase. I’m here about my colleague, Childe and of course, Their Grace.”
The table inside of Neuvillette’s office was covered in sweets from Snezhnaya, something the Kanve brought to ease the tensions within the meeting. Yet, it doesn’t seem to be working.
“Childe was declared innocent by you, the Iudex, yet was still given a guilty verdict by the Oratrice…” Arlecchino explains, “and only days after that, you declare that Their Grace is an imposter and almost kill them.”
Furina shifts uncomfortably in her seat, “Y-yes… we are aware of our… transgressions. The Creator is being well looked after and is healing quite quickly.”
Arlecchino perks up, “Oh? They are? So is it possible for me to see them for myself?”
“That won’t be possible at the moment, I apologize.” Neuvillette quickly adds in.
Arlecchino brings a forkful of cake up to her mouth as she lets out a scoff. “An outright refusal? I must say, I am surprised…”
Neuvillette crosses his arms, “this meeting wasn’t called to talk about Their Grace, but rather Mr. Tartaglia, correct?”
“That is correct. Then am I able to enter the Fortress to check on the wellbeing of my colleague?”
“That also won’t be possible.”
Arlecchino sighs, “so I cannot see Their Grace and I cannot see Childe. What exactly will this meeting accomplish?”
“We already have a course of action for Their Grace.” Focalors adds, “but we cannot share it with you or any other nations for now. This meeting was just a… common courtesy”
“And as for Mr. Tartaglia I am investigating matter.” The chief justice adds.
“A common courtesy?” The Knave questions, “everyone in Teyvat is wondering just what exactly will Fontaine do after committing the biggest sin known to man… and all you can say is that it’s confidential? Not to mention the prophecy you refuse to address.”
Furina shoves another bite of cake into her mouth, scooting her chair closer to Neuvillette.
“As long as Their Grace is in our nation, they are under our jurisdiction.” Neuvillette explains.
Arlecchino clicks her tongue. “A disappointing outcome indeed… but I cannot say I am shocked.”
Arlecchino finished her tea, “the Fatui is willing to extend our help if you need it. You all seem to have a lot on your plate at the moment. Maybe it’s best to pass some of the responsibility onto someone else?”
“That won’t be necessary.” Neuvillette states.
The Knave stands from her seat, brushing her bangs out of the way, revealing her red X eyes. “I think it’s safe to say this meeting is concluded, I have to return back to Snezhnaya immediately.”
Furina raises a brow, “returing so soon? W—why such a rush to leave?”
It falls silent in the room for a few seconds.
“Her Majesty cares very dearly about the Creator, I am expected to report any and all news directly to her.” Arlecchino explains, her back facing the two.
“Snezhnaya as a whole cares deeply about Their Grace, and once they heal completely we will welcome them with open arms… not a trial.”
Focalors looks down at her lap as Arlecchino leaves the office returning to her ship anchored near the border of Fontaine and Liyue. A sinister smile spread on her lips while Neuvillette and Furina sit in the office in silence, a sour taste lingering in their mouth even with the baked goods in front of them.
-
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Note: Good luck to all my Arlecchino wanters! I got her and her sig weapon so I give all my luck to you <3
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dazai-ritualist · 2 days
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I can offer you an idea of ​​yandere alastor.. What would it be like if alastor as a child knew the reader... Like I imagine alastor as a child not knowing how to act properly like a human, and the reader as a good best friend helping him seems more human (and not because the child reader is scared of him) ... Actually, what would happen?
FROM THE START
[wait a sec! you should probably read the other chapters as well]
— teaching your new best friend, alastor, to be a human. slowly, but surely.
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the first day of kindergarten. it was a little scary, but seeing all the kids who felt the exact same— it made you feel a bit better. none of the kids stood out though. except for one little boy, one who was hiding behind his mother’s dress, begging her to not leave him.
“momma, don’t leave me here” he frowned.his mother laughed before she pushed him towards the door. “come now, alastor. you’ll make some friends, trust me dear.” to this, you took it as an opportunity to make a new friend. you walked up to the little boy, waving excitedly. “hi!! what’s your name?” you asked. his mother pushed him towards you, encouraging him to talk. “ehh… my name is alastor.” he said quietly. “cool, i’m s/o! come with me, i wanna play house!” you pulled him inside by the hand, near a table with many children’s toys.
“you can be the papa, and i’ll be the mama, okay?” you looked at him as he nodded. “okay! go far away like you’re coming home from work!” you said, placing him where you wanted. he nodded, getting into his little role, before walking near your little set. “honey, i’m home!” he called out to you in his squeaky voice. you grinned to him. “welcome home, dear! dinner is ready, we’re having tea and cookies.” you pulled a seat for him, before he shook his head.
“don’t do that. my momma says that men should pull the seats for their wives.” he pushed the seat back before pulling it out for you, and offering it to you. you giggled, seating happily and taking one empty teacup. “soo, how was work?” you asked. as he sat down, he thought for a moment. “work was alright. my boss was a big jerk though.” he said. “aww, but you can handle it right, dear?” you asked, taking a sip from your empty cup. he blushed a bit at your words as he nodded. “i can!”
as he spoke, you got up and grabbed all the trinkets on the table. “okay! dinner is done! i’ll go wash the dishes, and you take care of the baby!” you said, making a mess with the plastic toys. he looked nervous looking around. “baby? what baby?” you looked around, spotting something. “ooh! use the blankie, that can be our baby!” he nodded, grabbing the blanket, and bunching it up to mimic a baby.
“okay, i’m done!” you declared, walking back to alastor. “our little baby’s soo cute” you smiled. “um… yes, really cute…” he nodded. “what’s it’s name..?” he asked. “i like the name ellyce! but, it kinda doesn’t fit… what about emilia?” you asked to which he nodded. “um, yeah. it’s a really pretty name.” he smiled.
“hey, um… would you want to be my friend..?” he asked quite anxiously. “yeah! you can be my best friend!” you said, hugging him. and from your hug, came a wide smile from him. “haha, alright..!” he nodded in agreement, the tension in his shoulders falling.
“it was really nice to meet you, alastor!” you grinned. and, though it felt good at first— it was your last chance for a way out of this hell.
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Little Girl Gone- Emily X GN!Reader/BAU X GN!Reader.
Synopsis: Being back in your old town, it’s no surprise you’d have to see a person you never wanted to see again, the only difference is this time is that you can handle yourself.
Warnings: Insinuations of past abuse but no details given, misuse of reader's pronouns by abuser not the team, talks of not handling past trauma but Emily is there for us, we’re really just a badass.
Word Count: 1.6k
A/n: THIS MAY HAVE A TRIGGER FOR ANYONE WITH PAST TRAUMA AND I DIDNT INCLUDE ANY DETAILS FOR THAT REASON, IF THAT MAY BE TOO MUCH FOR YOU PLEASE SKIP THIS ONESHOT. Other than that, yes this is based off a song leave me alone 🥰 You guys have no idea how long I’ve wanted to get something out for you guys, hopefully more will come soon!
☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎
You had heard he's back in town, and clearly, he hasn't changed a bit.
He was sitting there, appearing clueless, with you staring at him behind the glass. Your anger was boiling to the surface, and while it was clear to the team you were upset, they had no idea.
Your attention snapped back when a mention of your name was heard, the reason was beyond you, "That's what this is about? That bitch Y/n?" He chuckled and it made you sick. "Please, that little girl has nothing on me."
Hearing the way he said your name brought back some unfriendly memories you tried so hard to forget.
But when he muttered your name again, seeing how much it pissed Derek off, you knew you needed to do something. You have heard enough, it's not about you. It's about the 3 murdered girls.
You opened the door of the observation room to see Hotch standing there, "I'm going in there."
"That's not a good idea, you know that. He's trying to get under your skin."
"Hotch, with all due respect, I wasn't asking. Besides, I'm not the small child he last saw me as. I'm going in the there."
Hotch just quietly stood back, maybe a familiar face would get him to give them something they could use.
You walked into a familiar scene, Derek towering over the unsub shouting at the top of his voice, and the unsub pretending it's doing nothing to them.
"YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS-"
"Derek!"
With your interruption, both men stopped and looked towards you. Derek knew it was up to you, but he didn't like that idea. 
And him. Oh, him. 
He looked like he thought he'd finally got something he wanted if only he knew. Well, he would soon enough.
"Derek, I've got this. Go take a breather, I think Garcia has something she wanted to go over with you."
"I'm not leaving you in here with him." He stood tall in protest.
The man stood, suddenly filled with some form of faux confidence, "Yeah, little girl, you don't wanna be left here with me, unless you do?" His sadistic simper took over his face, his arm reaching out to touch you.
You grabbed his wrist and instantly snapped it back, flipping his arm behind him and then slamming him into the metal interrogation table.
"Oh, you wanna fight me now?" You pulled his arm further. "That little girl is gone. So tell me, are you big enough?"
"Fucking bitch!" His pain filled his voice and you tried to hide the joy it brought you.
"Do you feel that? Me twisting your arm until it breaks? Do you see how much stronger I've gotten?" He was struggling under you, and you were handling him with ease.
Derek was proud watching you, knowing the things that happened to you.
But the rest of the team was behind the glass watching carefully, they knew about him but not the things he'd done. But they did know your strength.
But now, he was groaning and mumbling something.
"Say that again, I didn't quite hear ya! You messed with the wrong 'bitch' in the wrong era!" You pulled him up off the table and shoved his face into the wall in a quick move, moving closer to him, "Honey, I changed so much since I last saw ya."
"I'm gonna say it, I'm proud of them." Rossi wasn't hiding his proud smile either as he watched you move him around like a rag doll.
You once again pulled him from the wall and slammed him back into the table.
"You know, maybe I will leave. I think I'd grab a cup of coffee, want some L/n?" Derek asked, knowing you definitely could handle yourself.
"I'm good, I'm awake now."
"NO NO NO! She'll kill me! You can't leave me alone with her!" He pleaded, as much as he could with his face smashed into metal.
"You know, I don't really think that's a bad thing. Do you, L/n?"
"Not at all."
He tried moving from your grasp, "No!"
"Then tell me where the girl is!" Derek slammed his hands on the table in his face, though he was still firmly pinned to the table all thanks to you, you could still feel the way he flinched.
Within the moments you walked into that room, the man finally showed how scared he actually was, realizing that now he truly is nothing.
"BOAT!"
You pull him off the table, holding him to face Derek and the team behind the mirror. 
"What was that?" You asked, hearing what he said but needing more details.
"The girl. She's on a boat. Down at the marina, slip 7."
"Ah, so you do know what's good for you." Derek said as he left the room.
"No! Wait!"
A smirk came to your face, and you knew that if you weren't an active agent you'd definitely get your revenge.
In a swift move, you had him pinned to the wall by his throat.
You took a split second to look at the man that robbed you of so much.
My god did he look like shit.
Years didn't do him good, and the illegal things he tried to hide likely didn't help.
"You. You got lucky. I've got too damn much to lose if I go after you now," You were practically seething. "But know this, you are nothing. You are shit. I took all of what happened to me, and I made something of myself. I did. Me. So don't you think for one second that you ever had an effect on me." He definitely had an effect on you, years worth of effects. But he wasn't going to know that. He didn't need that. 
He may have ruined the child you were, but he doesn't get to even be near the person you grew into.
You simply released him, part of the child that's still inside you wanted to do more but the other part of that child was so proud of how far you came.
You left him for the uniformed officer to take, walking out of the interrogation room to get some air or a drink, only there was something in your path.
Or rather, some people.
Half the team to be precise. David, Emily, and Reid were still in the precinct. And they just witnessed basically everything.
"I'm proud of you kiddo," Rossi spoke first, and only then did you release the breath you were holding.
"Thanks."
"I think this calls for a celebration, tonight. Your pick." He spoke with a head nod and walked out.
Reid just did his smile thing, and you knew you'd both likely have a conversation later.
But Emily, she stayed put, letting you go to her.
"You know you can let it out now, only if you want of course." She said finally as you walked up to her.
A shaky breath left you and you attempted to hide it with a faux chuckle.
She did know you the best.
"Come on, out with it. You know you can talk to me." Her damn eyebrow raise had you wanted to spill everything like always.
"I was so scared, Em." Another unstable breath came from your lips.
Emily reached up to wipe a tear you hadn't felt escape.
"God, I'd be worried if you weren't. You're only human." Her hand went to cup your cheeks, and for a second you simply looked into her eyes.
You didn't really know what to say, so you said nothing. You feared the only thing that would come out would be a sob.
"You handled that so well, and I speak for the team when I say I'm proud of you. It was hot the way you handled him." A small chuckle left you, she always knew how to get you to laugh.
"It just, brought back so many things I've tried for so long to forget." You looked to the floor with shame, ashamed it still got to you.
"Hey, look at me," She pointed your chin so you'd look at her. "Don't think that there's ever a right time to just 'get over it' because there's not. Everyone has their own timeline, and their own way of coping, that makes us human. And the fact that you didn't give in to the revenge you know you were thinking of, just shows how much you've grown."
She was right. Of course she was, when wasn't she? She knew the ins and outs of you. Every curve and every line. She knew your soul better than your body did.
"Come on, the team will finish the paperwork and we can go back to the hotel, you can shower and we'll meet them after for drinks." Your head rested against her shoulder as she put her arm around you while you both walked out of the precinct.
While you both arrived at your hotel room, the team safely got the girl from the boat, though she was a bit shaken up, she was unharmed. Physically, at least.
While the shower helped relax your tense body, it didn't help much with the resurfacing memories. You were simply disassociating at a cracked shower tile until Emily took it upon herself to be your distraction in the shower.
And of course, it certainly helped.
And later on, the team did their best to talk about pretty much anything but the case. Not like you were really upset about that honestly.
Having the people who you cared about around you, that's what helped the most. Having your love by your side and having your family around you.
🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮
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Foxglove
(Written by me. Originally published by Literary Times Magazine.)
I didn’t mean to summon the ghost.  Okay, I meant to, but I regretted it.
My friend Cyprus knew it was a bad idea from the start.  “You talk this way about every girl for two weeks, then you move on to someone else.  Just put a curtain over the portrait and forget about it.”
“I can’t.  Thinking about her hurts, and just the prospect of not thinking about her hurts more.  I dream about her pretty much every night.”
Cyprus closed his eyes.  His gold-rimmed glasses made him look like he was from another century.
I leaned across the table, making my eyes big.  “You can do it, right?”
“I’ve only recreated the ritual in a classroom setting, and only for animal spirits.”
“You’re a straight-A student.”
“That doesn’t mean I can do it.”
But he could.  
Ever since I moved here, the portrait of the actress had smirked down at me like a vixen.  She’d died young, in the early 1920s – this house is split into condos now, but it used to all be hers.
After my last breakup, I looked up photos of her.  She was most active during the 1910s, when stage actresses had a kind of dreamlike beauty: long tresses of dark hair, and huge, dewy, downturned eyes in the middle of a misty face.
I put the laptop down and went to bed thinking about her.  I dreamed about her pressed against me, warm and alive.  Since then, I couldn’t stop.
Cyprus showed up with a briefcase and his cat.
“Before I start, you should know I’m not doing this for you.”  He put his cat carrier in the center of the room.  He drew the sigils around it in chalk.  He set up the candles.  “I’m doing this because my professor said I could use it as an extra credit assignment.”
“It won’t hurt your cat, right?”
“I would never endanger General Pawshington.”
He had me sit cross-legged on the floor, then drew sigils around me too.  
Then he opened his briefcase and took out a yellowed sheet of paper.  “I can only say the words and perform the gestures,” he said.  “Your yearning has to be strong enough to call her here.  And then if she doesn’t want to stay, she can leave.”
“Got it.”
He started to chant, making swift finger motions, and I snickered.  
He paused.  “You have to think about her, or it won’t work.”
“Sorry.”
This time when he started to chant, I kept my eyes fixed on her portrait.  Even when she began to materialize over the cat carrier – out of the corner of my eye, I could make out the shape of a tiny hurricane, twisting into the shape of a woman.  I felt like if I looked at her, she’d vanish.
I imagined a relationship with a ghost.  A ghost would never change – if they wanted change, they wouldn’t be here.  They usually stayed tethered to one place.  I imagined coming home to her day after day, her tether to the outside world.
“No,” she screamed.  “No!”
I looked over at her.  She was as beautiful as her pictures, her black dress fading into gray mist at the skirt.  But she didn’t look sad or bemused, like she did in her photos.  She looked furious, the whites showing around her pupils, her dainty mouth twisted in rage.
She looked between me and Cyprus.  “Why would you do this?”
“I love you,” I blurted, at the exact same time Cyprus said, “Extra credit.”
She screamed so loud the cat hissed and the windows seemed to shake.
“Um,” I said, looking to Cyprus for guidance.
He didn’t look back.  Just stared up at her with fascination and regret.
She dematerialized, dissipating into mist that seemed to scatter against the ceiling, maybe through it.
“Was that…supposed to happen?” I asked.
“Some ghosts react badly to being summoned.  But if she’s unhappy here, she can return to the afterlife.”
She did not, for whatever reason, return to the afterlife.
It turned out that being haunted was not a fun experience.  I thought if I could just tell her about myself, she’d like me as much as I thought I’d like her, but she wasn’t interested in that.
She slammed doors.  Chilled rooms.  Flung objects.  Sobbed in the night.
“Can you please just talk to me?” I pleaded, after being woken up at 3 AM for the third time that week.  “I’m sorry!  I just wanted to meet you, that’s all!”
You know how when you’re in bed, you sometimes look up at the ceiling fan and picture it falling?  Well, that’s what happened next.  Fortunately, no bones were broken.
Cyprus’s extra credit assignment became his thesis project.  He came back as my neighbor was complaining to me about the new “poltergeist problem,” unaware I was responsible for it.
“And who are you?” the neighbor asked Cyprus.  “An exorcist?”
“Close.  I’m a student from the Providence College of Necromancy.”
“Great.  A student.  They always send kids to solve adult problems these days.”
Inside, Cyprus called, “Foxglove!”  For some reason, I don’t think I ever thought to address the actress by name.  “Foxglove, you have to stop, or they’re going to send an exorcist to get rid of you.”
She materialized out of the air like mist – the first time I’d seen her since we’d initially summoned her.  She really was so beautiful, her dark hair floating around her like a dream.  “It’s not fair,” she said.  “It’s my house.”
“I know,” he said, sadly.  Well, sadly for him.  He had a catlike way of emoting.
“I remember Heaven in flashes.  I don’t think you’re supposed to remember it while you’re on Earth,” she said, sounding frustrated but relieved at having someone to talk to.  “I want to go back so badly, but I don’t want to leave my life again.  All I can do is yearn for what I had before.”
“Maybe you can tell me about your life,” said Cyprus, not disguising the interest in his voice.  “I could write it down, and publish it.  And people could read about you.”
Her eyes looked sad, dewy, and hopeful, like they did in the portrait.  “I’d like that.”
I felt sidelined, like a third wheel.  It bothered me that she forgave his selfishness just because he was open about it – I wanted someone I could love, he wanted an extra credit assignment.
My goal was selfish too, in the context that I’d pulled her away from her life – or afterlife – in the hopes that she’d be a part of mine.  But wanting something to love wasn’t supposed to be selfish.  And if it was, that was supposed to be forgivable, if only because it was so human.
I’d apologized.  He hadn’t.  He was open about his self-interest, his fascination with the predicament he’d created.  But I could tell that if she forgave one of us, it would be him.  If she fell in love with one of us, it would be him.
That night, he stayed over to listen to her talk about her childhood, her poverty, her discovery.  About dancing and singing and playing Lady Macbeth, before performances were immortalized on film, when acting was still ephemeral.  About the day after she did too much laudanum and drifted under the surface of the tub.
She wanted to pull herself back past the surface, but she couldn’t.  She just couldn’t will her limbs to move.  “They say that those who take their own lives can’t get to Heaven,” she mused.  “I did.  But maybe that’s because I really wanted to live.”
Cyprus was listening, his recorder on the table next to him, taking notes.  He was interested in every word, wanting to capture as much as possible.  His intense curiosity, the Victor Frankenstein in him, was what made him a great student.
“I have some more questions I want to ask, about certain aspects of your life,” he said, switching off his recorder.  “Can I come back Thursday night?”
“I’ll be here,” she said.  Her dress had turned from black to white, and the mist she emanated had paled.
I could have tried talking to her.  
Instead, I called my ex, and told her what happened.
“It’s just like with me, James,” she sighed.  “You wanted her till she was a real person.”
It was true.  I’d never met a girl I could love more than an idea.
“It’s lonely for me too,” I said.
“I know.”
“Why do you think it’s so hard to love someone right?”
“Because when you do, it becomes something you want to give to them, not something you want to take.”  She said it like she’d been thinking about it for a long time, waiting for someone to ask.  “I think that’s why we spend most of our lives learning how to do it.”
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fanficshiddles · 1 day
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The Redbridge Hunts, Chapter 53 (Final Chapter)
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It was the day of Loki’s birthday and his party.
Loki was woken up, not so rudely, to Claire under the blanket giving him a blowjob. She then gave him his other presents, even though he joked that was more than enough.
She’d gifted him a scarf, a new briefcase for work. He’d been going on about wanting new knives in the kitchen for cooking, so she got him a brand-new set that was quite expensive.
His favourite present from her though was a history book he’d been looking for, there was only fifty made in the world and he’d been trying to get it for years. It even had a letter of authenticity along with it.
‘How…’ He was speechless and just kept staring at the book in shock.
‘I had a lot of help.’ Was all Claire said.
‘I am forever in your debt for this.’ Loki said as he grabbed her in a big bear hug, making her laugh.
‘Says the guy who got me a bloody car! A book doesn’t compare.’
‘It so does. You have no idea what I was prepared to do or sell for this book.’ Loki said seriously.
‘I dread to think, so I’m not going to ask.’ Claire dismissed and rushed to the kitchen.
She came back ten seconds later with breakfast she had prepared for him, but he was nose deep in the book already. Even placing the food down right by him didn’t get his interest.
In the end, she had to pluck the book out of his hands to get him to focus.
‘Sorry, darling.’ He chuckled.
‘I’m glad you’re so excited about your present.’ Claire laughed.
‘I'll try and leave it till tomorrow.’ He said, though did glance longingly at the book on the table.
‘I’m sure I could leave you alone for a few hours upstairs while I prep down here for the party.’ She teased as she sat down next to him.
‘No, I’ll help.’ Loki said as they began to eat.
‘You will not! You’re not preparing your own party. I’ve got Jessica and Louise coming to help.’
‘Oh?’ Loki raised an eyebrow.
‘Yeah. I figured it would be good getting Louise over early, so she can at least meet Jessica first. Then when people start to trickle in it might be easier for her. She hasn’t been in a room with more than like three people for years. I’m not sure how her confidence will be.’
‘Ah, of course. That’s a good idea. Let her know she can go upstairs whenever she needs, if she wants some time to herself at any point.’ Loki said.
‘I will.’ Claire nodded.
When Jessica and Louise arrived just after lunch time, Claire shooed Loki upstairs with his book. Which he didn’t put up much of an argument over.
Jessica and Louise instantly clicked, which Claire was so glad of. She had a feeling they would though. The three of them had a good time setting everything up for the party, including a few glasses of wine of course.
When people began arriving for the party, it wasn’t long before music was turned up and drinks began flowing. Claire had managed to get Loki downstairs without much of a fuss, especially when she teased him with the fact she wasn’t wearing knickers under her dress, then coaxed him downstairs.
When Matt arrived, Louise was speaking to Loki. Claire took Matt straight over to introduce her to him.
‘Matt, this is my sister, Louise. Louise, this is Matt.’ Claire grinned and motioned to Louise.
‘Hi, nice to meet you.’ Louise said with a smile.
She was nervous being around people she didn’t know, but she knew she was safe with Claire and of course with Loki. Meeting everyone as they arrived was easier than walking in to a bunch of people already there.
‘Nice to meet you too.’ Matt put his hand out towards her.
She hesitated, but then eventually did put her hand into his to shake hands, though it was a very quick hand shake before she retracted her hand. Loki internally cursed at himself for not pre warning Matt that she might be a little unsure around him at first.
Claire introduced her to all the others as they arrived too. So it wouldn’t seem obvious she was trying to hook them up. Though she did make sure they ended up back by Matt, so they could talk.
‘Remember, if you need space just say. You can go upstairs.’ Claire whispered to Louise.
‘I know, thank you. I’m fine, honestly. I know I’m safe with you guys. And everyone seems really nice.’ Louise assured her.
Louise, Claire, Loki, Matt and Spencer were together talking casually, when Louise became distracted looking over Claire’s shoulder. Claire saw her eyes widen.
‘Who is that?’ She asked in a little awe.
Loki and Claire turned around to see Chris entering, heading right their way.
‘Ah… That’s Chris, Loki’s brother.’ Claire told her.
Chris was halfway across the room towards them, but his eyes were locked on Louise, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. As he drew closer, Loki saw his nostrils flaring as he took in her scent.
‘Chris, this is my sister, Louise. Louise, this is Chris.’ Claire quickly introduced, though she wasn’t sure if he heard her or not because he was so focused on Louise.
Louise’s cheeks turned red as Chris stood on front of her, looking completely in wonder, Loki had never seen him look at someone like that before.
‘It’s lovely to meet you.’ Chris eventually spoke, his voice low and smooth.
‘Lovely to meet you, too.’ Louise squeaked out, she put her hand out towards him straight away without hesitation.
Chris took her hand in his and felt electricity shoot through his veins. He slowly lifted her hand and dipped his head down to kiss the back of her hand when she didn’t pull away.
Louise couldn’t take her eyes off of him, Loki sensed her heartbeat spike, but not in fear. He also sensed Chris’ heartbeat spike too. He looked at Claire and she looked at him, both sharing the same look.
‘Brother, I need a quick word.’ Loki said as he put his hand on Chris’ shoulder.
Chris only just managed to tear his eyes away from Louise to glance at Loki, Loki motioned towards the kitchen with his head. Chris reluctantly agreed and let go of Louise’s hand.
Louise’s skin was tingling where he had kissed her.
Loki dragged Chris into the kitchen and shut the door so they could have a little bit of privacy.
‘Please tell me what I think is happening, is not happening.’ Loki whined.
‘She… She’s my soulmate! I can feel it.’ Chris said breathless, unable to get his mind to work properly.
Claire entered the kitchen and shut the door behind her, to see Chris looking like he’d just found gold and Loki with his face in his hands.
‘Is she your soulmate?’ Claire squeaked.
‘This is not happening.’ Loki said firmly. ‘Not Louise! Anyone but her!’ He groaned.
‘She’s beautiful.’ Chris said, his voice was a little high, like he was in a trance.
‘To be honest, you are totally her type. Tall, dark, handsome, tattooed. Plus being a vampire… Heck, I’m surprised she hasn’t spread her legs for you already.’ Claire teased with a laugh.
‘We are trying to hook her up with Matt! Not whore her out to my brother!’ Loki argued.
‘Not going to happen.’ Chris growled low and turned to head back through to the living room.
‘Oh no… no, no, no!’ Loki chanted in a panic and darted after him.
Claire, however, had a huge smile on her face and she felt fuzzy in her heart for Louise and Chris.
Perhaps her match-making hadn’t worked out exactly as planned, but it seemed that her sister was getting a match anyway.
‘Oooo, we could double date!’ Claire said excitedly to herself as she rushed after them.
-
NOTE: There is a sequel! There's so SO much more to go with these guys. Instead of making it a super long fic, I thought a sequel would be better, which will become apparent why when I post the first chapter next week.
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unknownmads · 5 months
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CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT INMATE TOJI AND CUTE LITTLE Y/N WHOS SO NAIVE TO BIG BAD TOJI
CW: Slight smut (mentions of his pp🤭)
☆☆☆
thinking about Prison toji who you met when your college has you do a little project in your criminal psychology class. The project was make a penpal get to know them ask why they are in prision, what their lives before was like, do they regret what they did etc. basic questions of course all you had to do was get the most information out of the penpal about their personal lives as you could.
Prison Toji who only signed up for the program because it was part of his latest court order saying he ‘needed more understanding’ so a penpal would give him a friend while they stay safe😭 he ofc hated the idea and thought it was the dumbest shit ever. until he got his first letter, from you (duh).
Prison toji who got mail for the first time and it was a little white envelope with a cute little sticker sealing it. He deadpanned *is my penpal an idiot these letters are for a prison not a daycare* he silently judges examining every detail as he opened the letter. i read the letter taking in every little personal detail you shared with him, your cute little name, how you loved your cat, how you’re new to the city only just moving for school, of course the boring questions for him as well. But at the very end of the letter he noticed an extra little note.
Ps. i left a few photos of myself along with some of my cat! i think it’s only fair since i got to see your photo on the website
Prison toji who grabs the envelope he previously had thrown to the side and pulls out 3 polaroids. One of you and probably your cat you’re dragging it into the photo with a big grin on your face. the second is a photo of your face a soft smile on your lips meant for whoever took the photo but Toji couldn’t help but wonder if that little smile was for him. Until he pulls out the third photo it’s a full view of you, you’re out in the city dressed all out, and Toji couldn’t help but know you chose that photo just for him.
Prison Toji who can’t wait to finally get some alone time so he can truly appreciate your pretty photos. And immediately goes to write you back answering all your cute little questions. Telling you where he lived before, how he ended up there, telling you what he did for work before (Surprise he sold drugs😍), telling you what he does to occupy his time here (he works out he just wanted an excuse to tell you how strong he is), and he asks you some questions.
Prison Toji who has been relentlessly flirting with since you started writing to him, asking if you had a boyfriend, how your school was going, why you moved to the city, how a cute lil thing like you is still single. You had been writing each other for a few weeks now which is a lot less than you think when you know how long mail takes. But your letters to each other are long. answering every little thing each other asks, learning about one another more and more. You had really connected so you finally ask him the big question he read the words as clear as day.
~Do you think i could come pay you a visit? ~
Prison Toji who had to immediately write back answering the most important question first.
~ And doll, you can come visit me anytime id love to finally meet you and see your pretty face in person~
he wanted to be nonchalant.
Prison Toji who was sitting in bed looking at your photos when he was called
“Zenin, you’ve got a visitor. away from the door.”
Prison Toji silently followed standing on the other side of the cell while the guard came in to handcuff him and bring him to the visiting area. Once he was in the room his cuffs connecting him to the table he waited. until he heard the door open again. He felt his cock twitch in his pants as he saw the guard guide you in. You were wide eyed taking in the new environment until they landed on him.
Prison Toji was large, you knew he was tall and muscular thanks to his letters and photo but nothing could have prepared you for the real deal. Eyes widening even more when you fully take him in. seated At the grey metal table his hands on the table as the guard had told him to. his hair poking at his eyes which were staring drinking you in. his lip in a smirk helping you notice the scar on it which you couldn’t really see from the grainy prison photos. His shirt stretched against his muscles showing off a few tattoos hidden along his skin. the view making you squeeze your thighs together to release some of the pressure building.
Prison Toji who took in as much of you as he could as he watched you shuffle into your seat across from him, enjoying how you squirmed slightly within his gaze, his smirk growing into an almost full smile.
“hey doll it’s good to finally meet you.”
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murdrdocs · 6 months
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mmmm thinkin abt mike struggling to be quiet when you’re fucking. SMUT 17+
you were watching abby that night, and as soon as mike got back from work he was on you. peppering kisses along your neck when you were around the corner just out of abby's line of sight, rubbing little circles in your thighs at the dinner table, sweetly asking you to stay longer even whenever the lights were off and abby was tucked in bed.
you knew his plea would result in the two of you in his bedroom, you slowly sinking yourself down onto him. you'd encouraged it, telling mike you'd give him wanted on one condition.
"anything," he'd said, eyes big and earnest.
"you gotta promise to be quiet." your pinkie hovered between you both, waiting for mike to interlink his. he did with a smile, as if it were something easy.
but mike couldn’t stop moaning. his sounds were cute, little gasps and whines. they were arousing. but they were entirely too loud for the low level of privacy you had within the four thin walls.
“mike, please. you gotta be quiet.” you plea through your own barely concealed moan.
he sighs, face scrunching. “i know. i’m sorry, baby. i’m trying.”
but apparently not hard enough as you’re forced to lodge your panties between his teeth, a muffler for his moans. he lets you do so, opening his mouth and even going so far as to make a show of sticking his tongue out for the blue cotton fabric. yet, his sounds still leak through, and you voice an idea as you’re bouncing on his cock, nails lightly scratching down his chest.
“still so loud, mikey. we might have to get a muzzle for nights like these. what’d you think?”
mike's groan practically echoes. he seems oblivious to his own noises, instead thinking with his dick that starts to piston up into you, mike's nails digging into your ass to provide him with leverage.
your hand slaps over his mouth, colliding with soft cotton and warm skin, and mike finally wrenches his eyes open. there's vibration against your hand, short and resembling the pattern of syllables, and you slowly peel your hand away, taking the panties with you, to hear him speak.
just a simple word, curt and quiet and whimpered.
"please."
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sutorus · 7 months
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BAD IDEA RIGHT? BEST FRIEND'S DAD!TOJI for KINKTOBER 2023!
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DESCRIPTION: you and megumi are old friends, but a recent development (called growing up) has made you aware of just how hot his dad, toji fushiguro, really is. you sit on your desire for years until one night, you get an idea. 
PAIRING: best friend’s dad!fushiguro toji x reader
WC: 5.1k whoops!
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORDS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, age gap! power dynamics, slight daddy kink, degradation, spit (like a lot it's a Thing here), oral (m! receiving), unprotected relations, slapping, gaping, size difference/size kink, creampie, toji is Nasty and a pretty bad dude lol 
A/N: this is nasty and very descriptive i’m so sorry i really sinned here. anyway enjoy!
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you and megumi have been friends since school. after all, it was inevitable that a friendship would form between the only two kids whose parents consistently forgot to pick them up after class. 
nods of acknowledgment quickly developed into trading pokémon cards, sharing samanco waffles, cheating off each other during tests. 
it was the most meaningful relationship you had in your life, the one other person who really got you and the situation you were in, and before you knew it, you two were being admitted to the same college, like you’d talked about all those years ago. 
in the meantime, megumi’s dad had… mellowed out. from what you knew. 
sure, he was still gone for weeks at a time, neglectful, irresponsible and womanizing, but one final falling out with their family seemed to have lifted a big weight off his shoulders, and he became more present in megumi’s life, less resentful. you knew he wasn’t a good guy, but you also knew he was trying, in his own way. 
besides that, you also couldn’t help noticing other things about the man. you first started paying attention when you were in high school, always hanging out at megumi’s place to play video games or study. 
toji would come home sometimes, smelling of smoke and sake, tonguing the scar on the side of his lip. plopping down on their shaggy sofa, legs spread wide, thick thighs straining the fabric of his pants. you would give megumi some excuse about getting something from the kitchen and just watch toji, lazily browsing channels with one hand inside his sweats. 
it wasn’t a big deal. but it never quite went away, your infatuation growing with your desperation the more the man hung around. you did everything you could to get his attention. 
you wore the frilliest, shortest skirts, left dirty dishes on the sink, showed up too late at night drunk and stumbling “looking for megumi”, acting out so you could try to get some reaction out of toji. but he never seemed to give you a second thought, annoyance being the closest thing to an emotion on his face every time your eyes met. 
but you were no quitter. you knew one day you would get what you deserved. maybe not today, but… eventually.
you approach the fushiguro household’s front door, fishing out the extra key megumi had given you from your backpack pocket. you two had a study session today but he’d texted you telling you he’d be late and to just let yourself in, so that’s what you do. 
with a sigh, you set down your laptop on their coffee table and sit down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. before you can finish getting comfortable, a tall, broad figure is looming over your face and you almost jump out of your skin. 
“what the f—oh my god,” you laugh in embarrassment. “you scared me, fushiguro-san.”
he doesn’t react, his eyes boring into yours. “me? you’re the one breaking into my house.”
you roll your eyes, pulling your legs up below your body. “megumi gave me a key. we’re supposed to study today, do you know where—“
“he’s with that itadori kid. don’t think he’s coming back tonight,” toji moves to sit down on the loveseat, turning the tv on. the old, boxy thing crackles to life, a boat race playing on the screen. toji adjusts his body in attention. “so you can fuck off back home.”
“um,” you start, but nothing else comes out of your mouth. you let your eyes wander all over his lax form, and you can faintly make out his abs below the raggedy shirt he’s wearing. it makes your stomach turn. 
without taking his eyes off the screen, he addresses you again. “you know where the door is.”
an idea starts to form in your head. a really, really bad, tempting idea.
you discreetly take off your sweatshirt, leaving you in just your undershirt, no bra. you hope toji can scent the whiff of perfume you exude when you move, scooting closer to the edge of the sofa. 
“nah, i think i’ll just study here. my parents are home today and they’re too… y’know.”
“not my fuckin’ problem,” he picks at his teeth, spreading his legs wider. your desperation is growing with each second he spends not looking at you. 
you lift up your bag, something clinking inside. it's a bold move, but it's now or never.
“i brought booze. we could just share some and then i’ll go.”
that at least gets a reaction. the man snorts, finally glancing over at you from the corner of his eyes. you instinctively push your chest out, feeling eager. 
“is that what you do with my son under my roof? get shitfaced in the house that i pay for?”
“well i paid for the vodka so i don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you make a point to pull out the bottle from your bag, swinging it around. 
toji’s expression hardens, his jaw clenching. you know he doesn’t like to be challenged, absolutely hates smart mouths. you should be in for a treat. 
“who the hell do you think you’re talking to, kid?” he stands up and snatches the bottle from you, turning it around in his — big, veiny, deliciously calloused — hand and laughing. “vanilla flavored? fuck, you really are a kid.” he says it like the realization excites him. 
you can feel your face flush.
“are you gonna turn down free alcohol, toji?” it’s risky, dropping the honorific. you know he doesn’t like it, can see it in his face, but he doesn’t say anything. 
instead, he unscrews the top with ease and takes a swig, grimacing at the taste. you watch as his throat works, adam’s apple bobbing.
his arms are huge, you can’t imagine he was ever shaped like megumi is nowadays, slender and frail. toji is tall and broad and big, with a permanent 5 o’clock shadow on his defined features. 
he grabs two whiskey glasses and sets them down on the coffee table — no coasters —, pouring some vodka in both of them. it was most definitely not your idea to do straight shots tonight with megumi, but you will not go through the humiliation of asking for a soda to mix it with. 
you’re desperate to have toji view you as the adult you are, no longer megumi’s awkward middle school best friend. you know you’ve grown up well; all you need is for toji to see it too. 
you drink in silence for a bit, the only noises coming from toji being his disappointed grunts as the boats he bet on fall behind. you type away at your laptop, not really being able to focus with the heat rising within you. 
he refills both your cups a couple more times, but makes no effort to talk.
you slowly but surely start to get antsy, your determination wavering and giving way to a funny feeling one can only experience by drinking with their best friend’s dad who they’ve wanted to fuck for like, ever. 
so you bite the bullet and with the liquid courage flowing in your veins, you strike up conversation. 
“y’know, toji, i’ve always wanted to ask,” his head lolls on his shoulder to look at you lazily and disinterested. “what happened to megumi’s mom? he doesn’t talk about it.”
“yeah, well. me either,” toji replies. you take a deep breath. 
“you’re gone a lot. megumi is alone a lot.”
toji scoffs.
“thought that was what you were here for, hmm? megumi’s done well for himself,” he finally, probably for the first time in your life, gives you a proper look over, his eyes traveling all over your frame, tucked into the armrest of the couch. “scored himself a nice little bitch.”
you let out a strangled noise. you’re fighting laughter when you exclaim, “i’m sorry?! you think megumi and i have a—like, a thing?”
toji just shrugs, stretching one leg out in front of him. “i figured. why else would you loiter around my house so much?”
oh, if he only knew. 
“no, no. it’s never been like that. megumi’s not really my type.” toji hums inquisitively, and you take that as a sign to continue. “i’m into more… mature guys.”
toji eyes you knowingly, but seemingly amused. 
“that right?” you nod. “fuckin’ kid like you even know what to do with a man?”
you raise an eyebrow. you’re a sophomore in college, well into your twenties. he can’t be serious. “surely you know i’m not a kid anymore. surely you d—“
“surely my ass,” he exclaims and oh, he’s a little terrifying like this. toji downs however much was left in his cup and turns to you, pointing with the hand holding his glass. “you’re a full of shit, foul mouthed, rude brat. get the fuck out of my house, you’re pissing me off.”
you’re used to toji’s outbursts, not because you know him well but because every time you see him, seldom as it is, he always loses his temper, sooner or later. 
“i think,” you take another sip, feeling loose. “your old ass wouldn’t be able to handle sex. like, actual sex, not those rich hags you who just lay there for you and give you money in the end. if you had to put in any real work i bet your heart would give out you slimey pi—“
you can’t finish your sentence because you can’t breathe, suddenly. your eyes widen, chest spasming as your oxygen gets cut off mid-sentence. toji has one of his huge palms covering your nose and mouth.
you look up at him with watery eyes but he’s not looking back, he’s chugging vodka straight from the bottle again.
he puffs his cheeks and moves his hand to cup your jaw, smirking around a mouthful of alcohol. 
you catch your breath quickly, the hand that was clawing at his falling limply on your lap. toji holds your face, his grip unforgiving as he leans over you. his form is so, so much bigger than yours, towering over you completely, and all you can do is look up at him with a blank expression. 
his thumb pries your mouth open with ease, the digit hooking behind your bottom teeth as toji’s face gets closer and closer. on instinct, you close your eyes. 
soon, hot, stinging liquid is pouring steadily into your mouth. toji swishes the rest of the vodka between his cheeks — on purpose, you’re sure — before spitting it directly on your tongue.
it’s disgusting, everything about it makes your stomach churn, but it also makes you squeeze your legs together, chest rising and falling rapidly as you swallow without having to be told to. 
“ya talk too fuckin’ much, brat,” he grumbles. ironically, you’re at a loss for words. “someone needs put you in your place already.”
“you,” your voice cracks and nearly fails you, but you’re determined. it surprises him, that you’d have something to say. that you’re still game. you can see it in his face, in the way his hands come off of you. “i want you to.”
toji’s expression is hard and unchanging. his fingers go back to your face, two of them slipping inside your lax lips.
your breath stutters as you inhale, instinctively sucking the digits and working your tongue around them.
toji grabs his cock through his pants pointedly.
“fuckin’ slut… that what you want?” you nod. he takes a step forward, knees hitting the couch. “is that why you walk around my house looking like a fucking whore?”
a whine dies in your throat at the sweet, sweet recognition.
he noticed.
he noticed and it bothered him and you really couldn’t bring yourself to care that he was your best friend’s father right now because he was tenting his sweatpants and your mouth was watering at the sight. 
“please…” you paw at his waistband, pulling on the drawstrings. toji laughs at your desperation, voice growing gruff. 
he buries a hand in your hair, fingers closing around your locks tightly and making your eyes sting with tears. slowly, he pushes your face into his crotch, so close that you can feel it pulsing, can feel every ridge, can feel that he’s not wearing any underwear.
god, you can smell him, and it makes your head spin, your mouth huffing out hot breaths and wetting the front of his pants. 
you hook your fingers in the back of his sweats and pull until they’re down tight around his thighs. you have to maneuver the fabric over the head of his erection, earning a hiss from the man towering over you.
his dick springs up, slapping you in the face and leaving a smear of pre across the bridge of your nose. you think toji snorts at that but you can’t be sure. you’re too mesmerized.
he’s so, so big, the skin darker and flushed, tight, heavy balls and the head, angry red, peeking out from the foreskin.
your throat goes dry at the thought of it inside of you, inside any of your holes, because you know it’ll destroy you forever. and you want it. 
toji doesn’t have the appeal that most men his age do to most girls your age. he doesn’t make you feel safe, he doesn’t offer financial support, he doesn’t care about your well-being, he doesn’t have his shit together. and to make matters worse to you, he’s your best friend’s dad, who your best friend doesn’t even like that much, whose presence has been totally indifferent to megumi for most of his life. 
it makes you burn in shame to know you’re about to have a man 25 years your senior in your mouth.
you readjust your position on the couch so that you’re sitting on your knees, angling your face with his cock. it’s curved, pointing up, and you wonder how much of it he’s gonna wanna stuff down your throat. judging by the pure evil glinting in his eyes, it’s gonna be as much as possible. 
you take a deep breath, steadying a hand around his length. it’s concerning that you can just barely close your fingers around him, but you put that thought aside to focus on pulling the skin down gently so you can wrap your lips around the tip. 
toji sighs in relief, his grip in your hair tightening.
you begin to work your head up and down, licking the underside of his cock to gather up saliva. 
“thaaat’s it, what a good little bitch. got a sweet little mouth on ya,” he whispers, hips thrusting slightly to work his cock further into your mouth. “yer gonna take all of it? or are ya all talk?”
you whine, gripping the base and sliding further down his length. he’s already hitting the back of your throat, making your eyes water and your stomach seize. you pick up the pace, twisting your wrist rhythmically as you suck him. 
“don’t swallow,” he threatens, forcing his cock deeper into you, the head sliding into the opening of your throat. “lemme see how messy this slutty face can get.”
you choke audibly, eyes smarting with tears, makeup smudging. you look up at him with furrowed brows in a silent plea of mercy. 
toji’s having none of it.
he puts one foot down on the sofa, next to your legs, giving himself the leverage to start fully fucking your face now. he wraps both hands around your throat and thrusts his hips violently into your mouth, his thumbs pressing down to feel his length in your throat. 
“ahh, fuck,” he throws his head back, reveling in your desperate gurgles. you feel like a fucking ragdoll, like a fleshlight, unable to control the noises you make or how much dick you take. “takin’ me so well. who taught you to squeeze your throat like that, huh? so fuckin’ slutty.” 
you sob around his cock, nose buried in his pubes. he’s impossibly hard, impossibly wet as thick strings of spit and pre hang from your lips, dripping down to his balls, falling to the floor.
toji keeps fucking your throat relentlessly, granting you mere seconds between thrusts to inhale a desperate breath that immediately starts to burn in your lungs. 
he’s a fucking sight though, above you. chin tucked into his chest, veins bulging and biceps flexed, nostrils flared as he watches you devour him. 
he pulls out suddenly, leaving you choking for air. tears stream down your face, spit bubbling out of your nostril. you look all wrong, like you’d been put back together by someone after being utterly demolished.
“open your mouth,” toji orders. you obey and he grabs his cock, slapping the head against your tongue a few times. he slides his length in and out for a bit before he starts jerking himself off. “suck my balls.” 
you take that moment to swallow down the saliva that had pooled between your teeth, tucking away the wet strands of hair that frame your face.
toji’s lifting his cock towards his belly, fisting the head and flicking his wrist. he looks at you expectantly, and you understand it’s time to prove yourself once again. 
you place a gente thumb right below his shaft, where his sack hangs. your tongue dips in between his balls, shyly at first, just slightly tracing the shape of them before you pop one into your mouth. 
toji groans, the hand on his cock gaining speed. you squeeze your thighs together; you’re so wet that it makes you uncomfortable. you lean forward on your knees, steadying yourself with your palms planted firmly on his thighs. 
you’re sucking his balls earnestly now , one then the other, then both at the same time, angling your head up and working your tongue up and down the wrinkled skin.
toji’s loving it, maybe more than the blowjob, and it makes you feel like a toy all over again, in an even more humiliating way because now you’re not even allowed to touch his cock, he’s just getting to use your mouth anywhere he wants. 
it’s so fucking hot that it makes you dizzy. you hollow your cheeks, giving his nutsack a good suck before gingerly lifting his balls. you sneak a glance up at toji, hoping to catch him by surprise when your tongue dips even lower, approaching some pretty controversial territory. 
it works. his breath catches in his throat and his knee kicks out instinctively.
he grabs your hair immediately, pulling you away from him. 
“fuck,” you look up at him smirking, lips smeared with saliva and snort. but you don’t even care how debauched you look right now, as long as you can keep the upper hand. “you’re a nasty little bitch, aren’t ya?”
he leans down to kiss you deeply, messily, inhaling loudly through his nose. toji finishes stepping out of his sweatpants and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing what you’d been imagining for so many years. 
you run your hands over his chest, his abs, down his hips, his v-line. he’s so fucking hot, got bulging muscles you didn’t even know existed in the human body, and scars you can’t even fathom the origin of. 
he stares at you, looking bored. “get up.”
you do, legs shaking and prickling with pins and needles. now you can fully feel the scope of your arousal, how your panties stick to your core uncomfortably, how the wet tops of your thighs rub together. 
toji sits down on the sofa and you waste no time getting on his lap, clawing at his chest and leaning in for another kiss. he’s unforgiving even like this, so much bigger than you, his hand on the back of your neck and his mouth on yours. 
“arms up,” and when you comply, he’s pulling your tank top off. “good girl.”
you shiver, instinctively wrapping an arm around yourself. toji tsks at that, easily taking both your wrists in one hand and pinning them behind your back. he grabs your tit with the other, popping as much of it as he can in his mouth. 
you groan, fighting against his grip to get your hands on his hair, his shoulders, anywhere. toji relentlessly sucks on your nipple, nibbling and circling it with his tongue.
when he pulls off, he lands a swift slap across your boob, ripping a groan from you. 
“such a good fuckin’ slut, look at that body.”
he slaps your ass, this time, tugging your shorts over your butt. you help him get it off of you and then, finally, you’re straddling toji’s cock, no layers in between you two, just your dripping core on him. 
you think, belatedly, condom, but then toji is pulling you in for another kiss and for all you know megumi could come home any minute and you wouldn’t want to waste time like that. or so you tell yourself. 
his hands guide your hips to grind over him, soft mewls coming out of you and being buried into the crook of his neck. 
“pretty little girl, gonna ride me? hmm? gonna ride this old man’s cock?” you whine, nodding.
you press your front against his so you can lift your ass up and guide the tip into your entrance. you don’t expect to be able to take it all, but at least like this you can control the pace and how much of it is going into you, the only thing keeping you from panicking at the sheer size of him. 
the head of toji’s cock doesn’t slip inside so much as it pops inside, the ridge locking just past your opening.
it’s too big, and even though you’re soaking wet, it’s still a stretch. you both groan in unison and you realize, this is it. this is your fantasy, you’re fucking toji fushiguro, megumi’s dad, your best friend’s dad. 
your legs tremble as you hold yourself up, too soon to sink down more on his cock. toji’s playing with your nipples but you have a sneaking suspicion his patience isn’t going to last much longer. 
you give it a valiant effort to take more in and it feels like being ripped in two. you clench your jaw, a bead of sweat rolling down your temple. 
“fuuuuck, so fuckin’ tight,” toji spreads your ass cheeks with both hands, rubbing the thin skin where you two are connected. he thrusts up, feeding your poor pussy more of his cock, and you let out a scream. “take it, c’mon.”
“unghh—can’t, toji, hang on—“
“‘course ya can,” he fucks up into you again and you sob, nails raking down his chest. he hisses and slaps your ass in punishment. you realize you might really cry.
“i can’t, it’s too big, too much—“
“shhh,” in an uncharacteristic display of affection, toji kisses the furrow between your brows, snaking a thumb between you two to rub your clit. 
you throw your head back, body torn between seeking more pleasure and running from the pain. you can hear how wet you are as toji fucks in and out of you, your plush walls hugging him so well, weeping around him. 
he speeds up and you bury your face in his chest, moaning wantonly into his skin. toji lets out staccato grunts, working his cock further into you with each thrust. 
“any scrubs your age givin’ it to you like this?” he breathes out, grabbing your ass hard and moving it up and down his length for you. you whine, drooling on him. “yeah, that’s right. fuck, take it, that’s a good girl.”
“ahh, toji—“
“that’s not my name, whore,��� he fists your hair and drags your head back until your eyes meet. “try again.”
“fushiguro-san—“ that earns you a hard slap on your ass. you yelp — wrong answer. 
“toji-sama—“ another slap, and this time he grips the reddening flesh viciously. you whine, squirming in his grip. 
“little braindead cumslut,” he wipes a tear with his thumb. “who’s fucking this tight pussy right now? huh? tell me who's ruining this slutty cunt.”
“d—daddy?” 
toji smiles, humming, his grip on you softening as he leans in for a kiss. “that’s right, sweetheart. show daddy how much you want it.”
it’s amusing to toji, you know it. he just wants to humiliate you because he’s aware of how badly you’ve wanted this. but it does something to you, it’s serious to you, it’s so fucking depraved and sexy to you. 
he lifts you up with ease and lays you back down on the couch. you feel so empty suddenly that it makes you want to cry, like toji has already carved a home inside of you for his cock that no one else will ever be able to fill. 
he wastes no time getting on top of you, hooking a hand under your leg and lifting it up onto his shoulder. your eyes widen immediately, a protest dying in your tongue. this position… his cock… it’s, god, it’s gonna be—
toji plunges in in one violent, perfunctory thrust. you let out a scream, your heel kicking toji square in the back as your body rises up from the couch. he’s all the way inside now. 
you can feel him bruising your cervix, his balls, wet with a mixture of the two of you, slapping against your ass, his hip bones drilling into you. 
“you’re so deep,” you look at him with panic in your eyes, chest gone cold at the overwhelming pleasure. “you’re so deep.”
toji laughs, pulling out to spit on his cock. he grabs your ankle and sets it on his shoulder. “yeah, baby, daddy’s all the way inside now. feels good, doesn’t it?” 
“fuck. oh fuck,” you let out shaky breaths, allowing toji to lay more of his weight on top of you. your knee is by your head now and somehow in this position his cock seems to hit even deeper, to curve up exactly in the right spots that have you struggling to breathe. “you’re gonna break me.” 
“takin’ me so well. just a natural slut aren’t ya,” he’s fucking you so fast now, wet, slapping sounds resounding across the whole house. 
there’s a thick creamy ring at the base of his cock, frothy and bubbly with how much you’ve been gushing for him. toji presses a thumb against your clit and rubs tight little circles, making you squeeze against him like a vice. 
he grunts, speeding up his movements.
“so sensitive, this cute little pussy. you a virgin?” he slaps it a few times, your wetness sticking to his fingers with every pat. “gonna cum soon, whore?”
you whine, nodding. you wrap both arms around toji’s neck and pull him closer, open mouth awaiting expectantly.
toji grins, spitting onto your tongue before leaning in to suck it. 
“toj—daddy,” you moan against his mouth, “daddy, i’m close.”
you don’t recognize your own voice. it’s slutty, desperate, pitchy, juvenile. it's too far gone.
toji works your clit over and over again, fucking you harder than you’ve ever been fucked. he splays a hand over your stomach, kneading the place where his cock is nestled inside of you and hitting a spot that makes you lose control of your body and words. 
“ah, ah, ah, oh god toji fuck daddy make me cum, please please can i cum—“
“oh, fuck,” his thrusts start to become erratic and you know he’s close too. you clench around him, one leg wrapping around his hips to make sure he stays inside until you're done. “cum on daddy’s cock, come on. make a mess, little girl.”
you throw your head back, burying it into the pillows as your entire body thrashes with your orgasm. you clamp around him so hard that you can't even tell where he ends and you begin. 
toji takes no mercy on you, his messy cock plunging in and out of you fast. 
“gonna fill up this pretty pussy, yeah?” you shake your head desperately, one hand punching his chest. he can’t finish inside of you, right? but why do you want it so bad? “no no no, don’t fuss now baby. you want daddy’s cum inside you, don’t you? wanna give megumi a baby brother? fuck yeah i know you do fuckin' take it whore fuuuuck, fuck i'm coming—”
he thrusts once, twice, three more times, knocking all air out of your lungs and the most ridiculous moans out of your mouth before he’s spilling into you, locking your legs like a fucking pretzel and biting down your neck. 
you can feel it pulsing, spurting inside of you. you can feel both your heartbeats in your abused cunt, both of your juices combined and oozing out of you. 
once you catch your breath, toji pulls out of you languidly, with a yawn. you two made a fucking mess, a sticky puddle on the couch right below your ass. 
toji eyes it disinterestedly, much like how he’s eyeing you right now. your sweaty, messy, fucked out self, nearly melting on the fushiguro household’s sofa. 
“ah. are ya on the pill or what?” he asks, like he just now remembered. after a few seconds you nod, a little incredulous. “heh. good.”
you slowly sit up, reaching for your sweatshirt to at least cover yourself up. you sneak a hand down to your cunt, fingers sliding through the mess there to dip inside you. 
fuck, you’re gaping. toji well and truly ruined your pussy. it makes you panic a little bit, but it also makes pride swell within your chest, knowing you took it, all of it. 
toji finally addresses you. 
“i’m gonna go take a shower,” he looks behind his shoulder, sighing. he points at you. “we left the fuckin’ tv on. if this shit racks up my bills you’re gonna have to pay me back.”
you guffaw. “me? pay you how?”
he smirks. 
“got one more hole i haven’t wrecked yet, dont’cha?” he flicks your forehead. you just sit there, incredulous, trembling legs, halfway to horny again. from the bathroom, toji calls out, “let yourself out. oh, and leave the vodka.”
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A/N: lmfao! i got nothin to say in my defense. reblogs r very much appreciated
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romantichomicide95 · 5 months
Text
⋆̩MEGUMI FUSHIGURO | no nut november
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wk-> 2.3k
summary: megs tries to do no nut november, does not last a month. sort of has multiple parts.
warnings: nsfw. 18+. oral (f!receving), p in v sex, fem!bodied reader, agedup! to 20, domestic vibes.
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"I'm just saying Gumi, I don't think you can do it." You say as you look at him across the table. He's engrossed in his book, holding a fork in his other hand, and seems unbothered by the topic of conversation - No Nut November.
Yuji was the one that brought it up of course, said they should have a little competition. Megumi, of course, told him he was an idiot. Then when he brought it up to you, you dared to tell him you didn’t think he could do it.
He rolls his eyes, dismissing the idea as foolish. Games like that are stupid, he thinks, and only idiots partake in such childish behavior. Idiots like Yuji. First of all, he could totally last a whole month if he wanted, it's not a big deal. But why would he? There's no reward at the end, no gold medal that says 'good job for not getting off'.
Megumi looks up from his book, his blue eyes scanning over your features. He raises an eyebrow as if to scoff at the very idea. "Why would I want to participate in something so... juvenile?"
You chuckle, shaking your head and playfully nudge his shoulder from across the table. "You're missing the point, Gumi. It's not about the challenge itself, it's just about proving that you can do it. It’s all in good fun.”
Megumi scoffs, rolling his eyes before putting his attention back to his book. "I'll pass on this one, thanks. I've got better things to do than worry about my... self-control."
“I mean…if you don’t think you can do it then just say that Megumi. It’s okay…I couldn’t resist me either.” You tease. If anything you know your boyfriend. He may be quiet, reserved, kind of a typical broody boy, but he often found himself unable to resist the need in his pants whenever you touched him the right way or kissed him in that spot that drove him crazy.
He looks up at you, closing his book and giving you his full attention. You’re wrong, he can do it. It’s really not that big of a deal. Besides, it’s not like you’re fucking irresistible. Okay, maybe he’s fooling himself with that one…but still, he likes to think of himself as having full control over such things. He can last a month, it’ll fly by anyway.
“Whatever, fine I’ll do it. Just so I can prove you wrong. But don’t come begging me when you get all worked up.”
—————
It’s been one week. One entire week where Megumi hasn’t touched you, or even tried to touch you. You weren’t exactly sure how he was doing it, but it was starting to drive you crazy. You tried taking care of yourself. But with every brush of your fingers against your needy clit the ache for his touch seemed to grow.
Frustrated, and to be quite frank extremely fucking horny, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You wait until he comes back from a mission one night. He’s exhausted, maybe too exhausted to remember the challenge. As you both sit on the couch, you can't help but notice how tired and drained he looks.
You decide to make your move, leaning in close and whispering seductively in his ear, "You know, I've been thinking about you a lot lately.” You say, running a finger under his shirt and tracing his abs. “I bet I could help you relieve some of that tension."
Megumi's eyes flicker open. He swallows hard, his breath hitching slightly as you continue to trace your finger over his toned body. "I... I don't know if that's a good idea right now," he says, you can hear the need in his voice as he darts his eyes away from your gaze.
You smirk, leaning in closer. "Why not? I can make you feel good Gumi." Your voice has a sultry tone to it, the one that you always use when you want his reserve to crumble.
He sucks in a breathe, adjusting his pants before inching himself slightly away from you. This is harder than he thought, but than he remembers you’re teasing from last week and the stubbornness in him takes over. "I'm committed to the dumb challenge that you, by the way egged me on to do.”
You can't help but feel a pang of disappointment. You were so sure that your seduction would work. Usually it doesn’t take long but it seems Megumi is more determined than you thought. With a sigh, you pull away from him, standing up and adjusting your clothes. "Fine. Have fun with your challenge," you mutter, walking away in frustration.
—————
Two and a half weeks, on the dot. That’s exactly how long it’s been since your boyfriend has touched you. At this point you’d completely given up on your seduction. You’d tried every trick in the book. Straddling his lap, kissing the spot behind his ear that drives him crazy…you even asked him for a massage which led to…well him just giving you a massage.
It actually had you confused. Surely he’s been horny? You knew he was pretty good at self-control when it came to pretty much every aspect of his life. But sex? I mean he’s not some ravaged sex maniac, like his best friend who lasted all of one day in the challenge, but he’s got a pretty high sex drive given his reserved demeanor. You actually had a pretty active and, if you did say so, amazing sex life. So for him to go this long without even so much as a word? It wasn’t making any sense.
So, here you were, given up on trying at all. Instead you were preparing for a movie night. Clad in his t-shirt and only a pair of pretty pink panties given the heat wave going through your city. You were standing in the kitchen now, waiting for the popcorn to pop and unbeknownst to you Megumi’s eyes hadn’t left your body.
He thinks you did this on purpose, sure it’s hot out but you know how much he loves the way those panties hug your ass cheeks. How crazy he goes when you wear his t-shirt with no bra underneath. It always gave just enough of a peek at your perky nipples and the thought of rolling one of those perfect little buds on his tongue has his cock straining against his pants.
Yeah, you must have done this on purpose. Prancing around, showing off that sexy body of yours. You keep reaching for things in the cupboard and then his shirt lifts up ever so slightly, revealing the curve of your hips. God, it’s driving him crazy. You’d been driving him crazy all week, everything you did was in some way absolutely and utterly sexy. The way you ran your hands in his hair as he lays on your chest, tired from a long mission. The way you pout your lips when you tease him, or rub your ass against his body as you cuddle at night. And of course the fact that no matter what you do you always looked so utterly breathtaking that it drove him mad. Every single thing had made him want to forget this stupid challenge and plunge his cock into the lush walls of your pussy.
As the popcorn finally starts to pop, filling the room with its delicious aroma, Megumi can't control himself anymore. He slowly gets up from the couch. You hear his slow footsteps behind you but before you can react he wraps his arms around you from behind, his body pressing against yours. His hands rest on your waist, his fingers just barely brushing the sides of your panties. His thumb rubs slowly against the skin of your thigh and the subtle touch alone sends shivers through you.
You can feel the hardness of his erection against your back. Megumi leans in close, his breath warm against your neck. He doesn’t say anything, he just presses his lips to the space between your shoulder and your collarbone. “You’re making this so hard...” He says, his voice hoarse like he’s trying hard to control himself.
You turn to face him. His hands don’t leave your sides as you look up at him. “Making what hard?”
“Not touching you, when you walk around looking like…this.” His eyes trail down your body, before he leans down brushing his lips against yours.
“Than touch me.” you whisper as you connect your lips with his. It’s not like you haven’t kissed this whole time, but something about his kisses now are primal, hungry…like he’s kissing you for first time. And you’re elated, you’d wanted him so bad…needed him.
He deepens the kiss, his hands sliding up your waist, gripping your hips. His tongue slides into your mouth, swirling with yours as he lifts you up. You can feel the growing heat of his body against yours. His erection clearly evident through his pants. "I want you." he whispers between kisses.
He carrys you back to the couch, laying you on your back, one arm on either side of your body holding himself up. He looks at you, as if he’s soaking you in before he leans down to kiss you again. He pulls his t-shirt off of you over your head, leaning down to kiss from your collarbone down to your chest, before he takes a bud in between his lips, his tongue darting around it causing a moan to escape you. It’s just as he remembers, hard bud against his tongue. The feeling always making you so wet for him.
His lips then begin to trail down your stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He reaches the waistband of your panties, his fingers hooking into them, pulling them down from your body. He looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before he continues his descent. “Stay still.” He says.
He pushes your legs apart, his tongue tracing along your folds. You reach down, lacing your fingers in his hair, giving him the initiative to push forward. Using his tongue, he goes in deeper, teasing you before dipping in fully to lap away at your sex. His tongue works the magic only Megumi’s tongue seems to have, circling around your clit in short, sharp flicks, dipping down into you then flickering back out. His mind goes a bit wild as he tastes your juices against his tongue and lips, it drives him almost as crazy as it drives you.
“Fuck-you sound so pretty.” Megumi’s cock throbs in his pants listening to the whimpers and moans only he can pull out of you. It’s been so long since he’s tasted you, smelled you, had your hands in his hair eagerly egging him on. His cock strains against his pants and he grinds against the couch, chasing any sort of friction as he pulls orgasm out of you. You grip his hair as you cum, with one moan of his name and he wastes no time licking up your juices. He savors the taste, two weeks away and he’s practically feral just from the sweet nectar. Then he’s back hovering over you again.
His lips meet yours, the sweet taste of your juices still lingering on his tongue. He kisses down your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth. He stops momentarily to discard of his shirt before his lips are on yours again. He teases your clit with a finger, then another, coating them with your slick.
He can’t take it anymore, not when your soft whimpers are singing directly in his ear. Not with the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, he’s so desperate for you to clench around his cock you don’t even notice how quick he is taking his pants off until you realize the tip of his dick is softly rubbing against your clit.
It’s just the tip and you’re already moaning, fuck you missed his cock and the way it so deliciously filled you up. Your moans egg him on, he closes his eyes momentarily as he pushes in slowly, a low grunt leaving his lips as he feels your pussy clench around him. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice hoarse. His thrusts become faster and harder as he loses himself in the sensation of your walls around him, nails lightly digging into his shoulders.
His cock slides in and out of your wet heat, the room filled with the squelching sounds of your pussy milking his cock. He grips your hips, lifting them slightly off the bed so your back is arched as he drives his cock deeper and faster his hips moving rapidly against yours.
You reach out for him and he laces a hand with yours, your back falling back down to the bed as your fingers lace together. He looks at you for a second, drinking in the sight of your beautiful naked body below him.
He leans down and kisses you rough. “Don’t think I can last much longer.” He says, his face buried in your neck. You squeeze his hand as a sign that’s it’s okay and somehow the tenderness of your touch pushes him to the edge. “I’m….” he can’t even say the words before his cock twitches inside you. His cum filling you up. He grunts one last time, his face still buried in your neck.
He doesn’t move for a second, collapsing on top of you. He just wraps his arms around your body, holding you close before he moves to kiss you on the forehead.
A smile plays on your lips and you brush a sweat piece of raven hair from his pretty blue eyes. “I knew you couldn’t last the whole month.” You say with a light giggle.
He falls back down on top of you, burying his face in your neck once more and groaning. “Shut up.”
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tagging: @withthegraceofthewind @belfiguevel @chilichopsticks @nobody289x @rlvsmegumi @cassiefromhell @yihona-san06 @thebigcheez
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blkkizzat · 3 months
Note
please write nerd geto ! i’m sure you’ll write something amazinggg
Of course doll! Sorry this took a while I was sick most of December and January whooped my ass with classes starting again but I love love the idea of Nerd!Geto especially a Nerd!Geto with glasses so had to write a whole fic. Hope you like it :3 ♡
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Lessons in Anatomy
“Shall I give you a lesson, Y/N? Do you want me to teach you how to squirt?”
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summary: thanks to some bad choices and party girl ways you're on academic probation and can't afford to fail another test. fortunately your longtime friend nerd!geto is there to give you lessons in both economics and anatomy.
cw: college AU. fingering, squirting, dirty talk, edging, mentions of satosugu, rich party kid shit, incestuous friendships, mentions of reader x other jjk men, mentions of casual sex/hookups, mentions of drinking/drug use, reader is a dumb (and I mean dumb) bimbo, a little bit of a brat too, slight coercion, slight dubcon, virgin!suguru, soft dom!sugu, sex ed!sugu, roleplay as sugu is pre med major, some minor fluff, pet names: slut, bunny etc. a bit of a crack fic too haha. slightly black fem coded, no descriptors. a/n: LOL how this became an 8.2k fic about squirting idk chile... but special shout out to @littlemochabunni who talked me off a ledge when I was being emo and I wanted to scrap the entire thing and start over. w/c: 8.2k
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“I can’t believe I’m here and missing the biggest party of the year!”
You groaned as you scrolled through your stories to see all the pics and vids of your friends living their best drunken lives and happily binge drinking on frat row to celebrate your school’s football league championship win.
Toru just did unassisted keg stand pushups and you missed it! 
You, on the other hand, were stuck studying with Suguru in his dorm room. 
100% sober and being forced to learn 5 weeks of econ, that you never took a single note for, in one weekend. 
Well not forced exactly. 
You and Satoru had practically begged Suguru to help you study this weekend. If you failed this class you would flunk out as you were already on academic probation.
“Well I for one can’t believe you’re dumb enough to attempt to cheat off Toji and Sukuna of all people.” 
Suguru quipped back while pushing up his glasses. He snatched your phone away from you and placed it on the other side of his desk, away from you.
Not that he took offense to the remark, but he too had better things to do on a Friday night than tutoring you. Keggers definitely weren't his scene though and Suguru wouldn’t be caught dead at a party celebrating with those frat monkeys. Even if said monkeys included his childhood friends. 
However, as a pre-med student he’d much rather stay in to write his essay for the clinical research internship he was trying to get. 
“Hey! I didn’t cheat off them for the record! Toji and Sukuna said they had the hookup for the answers!”
You pouted grumbling as you tried to reach for your phone on the other side of the table only for Suguru to take it again. This time he slid it into his pockets, keeping it away from you for good.
“Urgh, it’s not my fault they got the test for ECON 230A and 230B mixed up. I didn’t even know there was a second section!”
Suguru had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at you again. The pilfered test definitely had ‘ECON 230B’ printed in big bold letters at the top. 
You all were idiots. 
Unfortunately for you, you were just a cheerleader idiot. 
The other idiots, Toji and Sukuna, dubbed the ‘The Boom Bros’, were the reason your team even won the championships in the first place. The best defensive backs your college or any college in your division have seen, ever. Not letting an opposing team score more than 10 points the entire season, there was no way in hell they were going down for that right before the championships.
That left you as the scapegoat, which was something Suguru noted that you happily took the fall for.  Although there is a very good possibility of you being a soon-to-be college dropout, your social clout was skyrocketing. 
Word spread among the popular social circles fast on how you ‘saved the big game’. 
Suguru couldn’t care less about football, though he was getting annoyed at all the texts, DMs and messages you received asking where you were. They were making you completely lose the little focus you were capable of, which is what made him confiscate your phone in the first place. 
Sighing, Suguru was pretty sure you would be competent enough to pass if you just applied yourself more to anything other than drinking and parties.
“Y/N, just try to focus on studying, please.”
You pouted, turning back to the textbook in front of you.
How did Suguru’s nerdy ass enjoy studying so much?
Studying, especially anything to do with math, gives you an ick. In fact, you were sure the only reason you graduated from high school and even got into this university was because you played 7-minutes-in-heaven with Choso at the start of senior year. 
It had been a secret double dare from Gojo but you sucked the soul out of that boy in Gojo’s closet that night. From then on, Choso pretty much did anything you wanted that year, including all your homework. Hell, he even wrote your college admissions essays and in turn you gave him some sloppy toppy here and there.
Choso was always eager to feel your soft lips on his cock, so you’re sure he could have thought of a better way for you to cheat so you didn't have to study at all and could be out partying right now. It’s just your bad luck that he was studying abroad this semester with his little brother Yuuji.
Although, even if you did flunk out you weren’t that worried. Worst case scenario if you couldn’t find a career or a husband you could always be one of Gojo’s three mistresses he said he would keep once he was older, married and had taken over his family’s company. 
He had pinky-pie-promised he would take care of you if you needed it and as one of your best friends you knew he was good for that promise. Even if he did make it while you both were partying, tripping balls off acid so hard that Satoru convinced himself your cunt could produce cotton candy. He chewed on your pussy for 2 hours straight one wild night on your group’s graduation trip where he then asked if you would be his future mistress.
But that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted that life for yourself. You liked your independence and Satoru would be alot to deal with, even with 2 other mistresses and a wife. 
Therefore, unless you wanted to resign yourself to that fate, you were stuck with Suguru as your tutor.
It’s not like you didn’t get along with Suguru, he’d been one of your closest friends since you were young along with Satoru. But as you got older your interests kind of drifted apart and you saw him less and less, especially as you got to college. 
You wanted to party and Suguru prioritized studying.
You had missed him. You wanted to have fun with him again.
And this was definitely not fun. 
Reading the same paragraph for the fifth time and retaining shit all of whatever the passage had said about ‘demand curve fluctuations’, you were ready to climb up the walls. 
You began to fidget, still in your cheer uniform from the game earlier. The material of your skirt rode up to your upper thighs when you splayed your knees out and leaned forward to lay your head on the desk face down with an exasperated yawn. 
Suguru shared in your exasperation but directed his towards you with another sigh, looking you over. His weariness at you from your inability to study causes his eyes to linger on your form longer than they should. 
Resting against his desk, your back had molded into a nice natural little arch as your tits pushed forward . Adjusting his glasses Suguru found it difficult to pull his eyes away once they landed on your thighs. Practically leering, Suguru is transfixed by the way the fabric bunched at your hips digs into your soft skin. 
He curses your university’s school colors as the next thing that caught his eye was the bright yellow cheer panties you wore that were tight enough to show the full shape of your cunt. Your panties are so skinforming that they don’t fail to give you camel toe. The indent of the slit between your fat pussy lips is on full display.
You’ve always been attractive, Suguru muses as he feels his pants slightly tighten. But it’s no mystery why you were such a slut now if these were the positions you found yourself in when alone with guys.
“Seeing something you like, Sugu baby?”
Suguru snaps his head up at your teasing to see you looking straight at him, your head still resting on his desk but has since turned to face him. The wink along with the lazy yet knowing smile forming on your cherry stained lips lets him know you know he was staring at your cunt. 
Caught red handed, Suguru rolls his eyes and scoffs as he returns back to the textbooks in front of him while you laugh. Dismissing your question entirely he changes the subject back to studying but can’t resist throwing in a little dig to take the heat off himself. 
“Y/N, can’t you just focus? You’ve barely made any progress… Or is it that you want to flunk out and be reduced to Toru’s mistress or something?”
Fuck, you forgot Suguru knew about that too. (Duh, of course he did. He was the sober one who found you both, taking care of you once your come downs had hit).
Not letting him get away with that shade, the brat in you clapped back as you returned his sarcasm back at him.
“Okay, well high school was one thing but do you want to go through college without getting any play too? Or are you satisfied just from peeking up a skirt?”
Annoyance flashes in Suguru’s eyes. He thought you had some audacity seeing as you were the one who was casually flaunting your pussy for him in the first place. Nevertheless, you continued, using Suguru as a punching bag for your current academic frustrations.
“Your pocket pussy and getting head from Toru behind the bleachers at prom doesn’t count by the way!”
Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose as his tolerance of the situation had officially bubbled over. He was tired of everyone thinking he was missing out on something just because he didn’t want to kill off brain cells partying every weekend or play STD Roulette with casual hookups. 
You bringing up prom was a low blow. It was the first time he’d ever had a drink and Toru had practically begged him. Satoru wanted to know if his head was just as good for guys as it was for girls (spoiler alert: it was).
Also, what you thought just because you fucked around alot it was actually any good?
“Yeah and getting railed by a bunch of banana brained monkey jocks, that counts Y/N? They wouldn’t know what to do with your clit even if it was an actual football.”
Suguru retorted and he watched as your eyes widened with shock then seethed with anger as you finally sat upright in the seat. 
Ding Ding! He had hit a nerve. 
“Oh and you would know what to do, cherry boy?”
Suguru knows he probably shouldn’t push it further. But like Satoru, you always knew what buttons to push to get under his skin. Suguru can’t help but to want to get under your skin as well, especially since he was never one of the ones getting under your clothes. 
“Well I can actually spell clitoris, so that already puts me at an advantage over those ball chasing monkeys. Have you ever even had a real orgasm before, Y/N?”
You started to speak but Suguru cut you off before you could.
“—and I mean one that didn’t come from tripping with Satoru or a toy? I bet you’ve never even squirted before.”
Damn. 
You resisted the urge to chew on your lip, not wanting him to know just how right he was but your immediate silence was telling. Racking your brain, you tried to find a way to get your lick back but found yourself at a loss. 
It was mostly true to be honest. 
A hot and heavy make-out session at a party would typically lead to mostly underwhelming sex and you would have to return to your dorm or wait for them to leave to finish yourself off with your rose or dildo… or both. 
Okay and sure, maybe the one and only time you did really have an intense body orgasm was the time you dropped acid with Satoru but… fuck –Wait…squirting?! Wasn’t that just pee? Gross! 
Satisfied with your small ammunition, after a pause you bit back again.
“Alright, so frat boys aren’t sex gods, tell me something I don’t know. It’s still sex Suguru—” 
You flipped your hair and crossed your legs arrogantly as you continued.
“— sex that you aren’t having, which, duh, is obvious if you think squirting is an actual thing. Because Eww nasty, I’m so not into piss-play, Sugu!”
You waited for his reply, assuring your win but Suguru just blinked at you, dumbfounded. 
The thought of you having won shatters when Suguru erupts into a fit of laughter. Hitting the table for emphasis Suguru was near howling as the glasses fell off his face and he had to clutch his sides for support, keeling over in his chair. 
Suguru couldn’t actually believe that you believed squirting was the same as urinating! 
On second thought, knowing you, this kind of checked out…
Watching Suguru in a fit of hysterics had your face burning with embarrassment as waves of self-consciousness came over you. 
To be honest, you weren’t even sure why you were feeling insecure as this was supposed to be your victory!  This was not the reaction you expected from him at all to say the least!
Just what made this so funny!? Because you didn’t want to piss yourself during sex?! 
“Sugu…”
“Sugu…”
“Hey, Suguru!!!”
Frustrated with him ignoring you and still laughing after failing to get his attention, you jumped up from your seat and marched directly in front of Suguru. Angrily you yanked his head up by his man bun. 
You were so ready to tell Suguru to go to hell for laughing at you. Even if you weren’t too sure exactly what he was laughing at you for, he was still being a jerk right now. 
However the words caught in your throat as soon as you saw his face.
Suguru’s wide grin easily illuminated the dimly lit dorm room. Tears gathered in the crinkle around his eyes and pulled into an expression of such warmth that you were reminded of all the fun times you had together goofing off over the years. You nearly forgot what it was like to see him laugh like this.
So nostalgic you almost forgot he was still laughing at your expense — almost.
“Don’t be an asshole Sugu…” 
Your voice was low, lacking any real bite as all your fire fizzled and was replaced by a pout.
Defeated, you let go of your stiff grip on his silky bun causing it to unravel and frame his face with thick black strands that flowed down past his shoulders. Although it wasn’t the first time you had seen Suguru with his hair down and no glasses, you couldn’t help but stare at him now. 
He had grown much more into his features since high school. 
College Suguru had sharper eyes, a slimmer face with a strong jawline and hair that flowed down to his chest. Not to mention his lanky boyish frame had filled out. The muscles underneath were prominent now even if he was wearing a baggy band tee and sweats. Suguru didn’t go to parties but from the looks of him he certainly didn’t miss going to the gym. 
He didn’t look much like the nerd you knew him to be right now at all.
Granted, you were still a bit salty with Suguru but didn’t want to fight with him anymore. Especially given the way his dark eyes sparkled as he gazed up at you, your heart nearly skipping a beat as if you were really only noticing him now for the first time. 
Sniffling, a cocktail of emotions swirls in you. Moisture pricks in the corners of your eyes despite yourself.
Suguru, who was also staring at you, took notice right away.
“Hey Bunny, I’m sorry...” 
You relaxed a bit hearing the old nickname he and Satoru gave to you back in middle school, you couldn’t remember the last time he called you that. 
Grabbing your hand in his much larger one, Suguru gave your palm a gentle rub with his thumb. His hand was surprisingly soft. 
Despite his sweet gesture, your brow twitched slightly at Suguru’s soft chuckles, still continuing albeit less frequently, at your expense.
“It’s just that… I dunno, I guess I would have expected you to have experienced it at least once before Y/N, it’s definitely not pee.” 
You huffed. You still weren’t convinced it wasn’t pee but now you were more curious than anything.
“And how do you know that Suguru? You’ve made a girl squirt before?” 
There was no sarcasm in your tone this time, just doubt since he would have told Toru and Toru definitely would have told you if Suguru was getting play from someone. 
Suguru to his credit wasn't discouraged though. 
If anything, he seemed to gain confidence on the matter now that you weren’t fighting him, rather looking to him for knowledge, for the first time tonight.
“Well, no, but I did get a 4.0 out of Anatomy last semester and unlike you I actually paid attention in Sex Ed. Also, just because I’m a virgin, doesn’t mean I’m completely clueless. There is a little thing called the internet, Y/N.”
You mouthed an ‘O’— a bit ashamed that you actually thought because he was a virgin who didn’t party he was merely just sitting around clueless to everything about sex.
But what could just reading textbooks and the internet teach him over actual experience? 
Then again, Suguru was practically a genius, if he was saying something was possible you could be sure it was. Still you couldn’t stop your mind racing as you considered his previous words.
You were the one with all the experience so you should have experienced it before, right? 
Maybe the guys you hooked up with weren’t the problem then? Maybe you were. 
“What if– w-what if I’m the problem Suguru? What if I just can’t?”
Tugging you closer, his fingers now interlacing with yours, Suguru’s other hand settled on your hip giving you a warm squeeze. You were so close to him now that his chin almost rested on your belly and Suguru was craning his head up to you with a small sly grin still on his face.
“It’s not a matter of can or can’t Bunny, you just don’t know how. Shall I give you a lesson, Y/N?” 
“Do you want me to teach you how to squirt?”
You felt a bit lightheaded as you considered the words that just came out of Suguru’s mouth. You weren’t shy at all when it came to matters of sex and you had the reputation to prove it. Yet your stomach still did a little flip at Suguru propositioning you. 
Sure you were a bit of a slut and had at least made out with almost every guy in your group of friends, but not Suguru. Not for lack of attraction though, you had teased Suguru in the past but he had always been the responsible one, like an older brother or protector. 
Besides, Satoru was always so needy for his attention. There weren’t often times you were with Suguru alone and he never seemed all too interested in sex either, at least when directly compared to a horn dog like Satoru. 
You didn’t actually know if he was serious though so you decided to make light of it, giggling.
“If you wanted me to pop your cherry Sugu, all ya had to do was ask.”
Suguru smiled back at you, he shook his head chuckling. 
“I’ll only need to use my fingers, Y/N. Besides, this is about you. What I really want is for you to not flunk out, I would miss you, ya know?” 
You try to keep a poker face but you couldn’t help feeling giddy at the fact you were extremely happy to hear Suguru would miss you. You had already missed him and combined with the inkling of new feelings stirring in your chest from seeing your old friend in a new light you feel adrenaline begin to pump through you as you brim with nervous energy. 
“Let’s think of this as a study break from Economics. You had to miss the party but we can still have some fun. You might even learn something for once, eh?”
His hand left your hip in order to push the books and papers on his desk aside and patted the wooden surface. The hand still intertwined with yours guided you over.
“Hop on up, Bunny. It’s time for your anatomy lesson.”
You look at the desk and pause as if you are unsure, biting your lip. 
Thoughts of finally hooking up with Suguru excited and the fact you were nervous whether you would disappoint him if you couldn’t actually squirt flood your mind at once. However when you meet Suguru’s eyes and feel gentle reassuring pressure on your hand your body is already moving towards the desk, making the decision for you.
Your heart is already thudding in your eardrums by the time you settle on top of Suguru’s study desk. Suguru immediately shifts into instructor mode, picking his glasses up off the floor and adjusting them back on his face. 
He directs you to lean back and relax and soon your shoulders are against the wall behind the desk as you are propped up on your elbows. 
You yelp as Suguru startles you by grabbing your hips with a firm squeeze and scooches you flush to his pelvis. Feet propped up to the edge as well all you needed were the stirrups and you could have been at the gyno's office, giggling now at the thought.
“Sugu, you can’t be serious. I feel like you’re about to give me a pap, not an orgasm.”
Suguru’s mouth twitches up into a smirk.
“There’s a reason they have you lie in this position, makes for easier access. If you’re going to squirt I’m going to need to find that slutty lil’ gland of yours and I don’t mean your clit, Bunny.” 
You huffed but you were otherwise agreeable. 
You couldn’t deny you were a slut especially not now with your legs spread open wide exposing your bright yellow cheer-panty clad cunt to Suguru. Laid out like this, the thin layer of spandex is stretched to its absolute limits causing your chubby pussy lips to poke out of the sides. This does not go unnoticed by Suguru who hadn’t taken his eyes off your lower half since you initially spread your legs. 
His Adam's apple bobbed heavily as he swallowed and breathed deeply at the sight of you.
Suguru can barely believe he’s really about to do this. 
If anything he is overconfident in his abilities, despite his lack of actual on-the-job experience so to speak. From all his studying as a pre-med student, books, health articles and yes even porn, Suguru could say he had an in-depth understanding of human anatomy and bodily functions. 
But that didn’t mean he didn’t need to calm himself enough to stop his balmy palms from sweating further at the reality of finally being allowed to actually touch you.
“I’ll be in your care then, Doctor Geto.”
You make a lighthearted joke with a nervous laugh to ease your own anticipation. However the joke has the opposite effect for Suguru and he snaps his head up as if you had activated something in him. 
Suguru’s fiery expression sends shivers down your back. Although as quickly as it appeared it was gone again, replaced by his trademark comforting grin. Even so your fingers pressed a bit deeper into the wood beneath you, steadying your frazzling nerves.
“Well aren’t you a lucky one then, being my first patient ever. You’ll be a good little pussy and listen to me, won't you?”
Suguru is looking down again, speaking directly to your cunt who is tingling in response to his voice. It’s fucking lewd. But then again so is the studious scrutiny of Suguru’s eyes so single-mindedly transfixed to your cunt you wonder if his leer alone could dissolve the cheer panties right off of you. 
You let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding once Suguru finally starts touching you. 
But not your pussy just yet. 
His long thick fingers are surprisingly cool on your skin as they press into your warmth, ghosting just above your knee on both sides. 
Gentle strokes travel down along your inner thighs and up again to lightly tickle the backs of your legs. You tense and squirm beneath him when your eyes meet Suguru’s own.
“Sugu–”
“Patience, Bunny. It’s no wonder you never cum if you’re so used to diving right in. You need to relax first. This won’t happen if you aren’t relaxed, can you try to do that for me?”
You nodded back at him, yet the goosebumps left in the wake of Suguru’s soft caresses had you trembling. So used to rushed thrusts and hurried grasps, you don’t know how to just take it in the moment. 
You had never been touched this delicately before.
Already oversensitive, if anything you felt like the one who was the virgin in this situation.
If Suguru notices, he says nothing. His touches are progressively firmer, the light pets morphing into soft squeezes and circular strokes of the hand once he traverses closer to your core.
“You know Bunny, the inner thigh area is an erogenous zone? Can you say that, Y/N? Ero-gen-ous?
Suguru pronounces the word out for you as his heavy muscular hands make their way to the crease of your inner thighs, his hands once more perilously close to your pussy as he pauses looking up at you again expectantly.
“Say it, Y/N.”
Your cunt clenches at his command and it leaves you stuttering. Heat blossoms across your cheeks from how needy you sound choking out the word. 
“Er-Ero-gennn-ous.”
Suguru rewards you by moving his hands again but to your dismay they pass your core to dig into your hips, his thumbs swirling over your hip bones. He leans his body in closer to you and you break eye contact to turn your head away lest you really start falling apart in his hands.
“Good girl. Ya know, you’re quite bright with the right motivation, Bunny.”
Puffs of moist heat glide over the tip of your ear as his lips are only millimeters away from your skin. His words stimulate a deep in your gut reaching all the way down to your toes, trying to resist how much he’s affecting you. 
Suguru chuckles at your bashfulness.
“Are you always this shy, Bunny? Or does that honor just belong to me?”
You whimpered. You aren’t sure how you got here. 
How was Suguru, a nerdy virgin, making you come undone like this? You didn’t know where the darkness that crept up on the edges of his eyes was coming from either, yet you squirm in anticipation despite yourself. 
You loved it. 
Always a know-it-all, so you would hate to admit it outloud, but Suguru was already making you feel more excitement than any frat boy you had been with. Lack of hands-on experience be damned. You’re losing it as his lips sensually flutter against your collarbone. 
“Y-you s-said only fingers, S-Sugu!”
Your voice lacks any real reprimand as you are arching up into his touches and quivering for more. Suguru obliges as he alternates between delicate nips and open mouth kisses sinfully marking you. Groaning into the crook of your neck Suguru savors the lingering taste of your perfume and the natural saltiness of your skin. 
Returning his attention back to your ear Suguru’s breath trails over your skin until your lobe is once again trapped between his moist lips. He lightly tugs it between his teeth before giving it a sharp bite.
“AHH!”
The sting sends a jolt of electricity shooting straight into your cunt and a strangled noise escapes your lips. Your knees are starting to buckle but Suguru’s quick reflexes stopped your legs from clamping together all the way, bracing you. 
Taking your hands and leading them to the backs of your thighs, Suguru is making you steady yourself back into a spread position for him and gives you strict instructions not to move.
“Good girl… This should be more than obvious now Bunny, but there are erogenous zones all over your body that connect to the pleasure nerve endings here.”
Suguru’s voice is silky as his index finger tows long strokes over the slit of your clothed cunt and applies pressure on your clit for emphasis. Whines fumble out of you when Suguru switches from steady swipes to idle flicks with pads of his fingers and your legs twitch again once more.
“It's important to simulate multiple areas simultaneously and I only have two hands, don’t I? You don’t mind Y/N do you?”
You still can’t bear to look Suguru in the eyes, much less respond vocally so you just shake your head. 
“Feeling good, Bunny? Which do you like better, the strokes or the flicks?”
Your eyes squeeze shut from Suguru demonstrating both over your covered cunt. You try not to tear up but the amount of autonomy you had in this situation was new to you. Embarrassed and vulnerable you’re realizing that in spite of all your sexual experiences you still don’t feel comfortable expressing your needs.
“Hey, Y/N–”
Suguru clutches your face in his massive grip, squishing both your cheeks with a single hand and forcing your glassy eyes back on him. It was hard to focus on what he was saying anyway while you cooed from the feather-like circles he had been drawing on your clit.
“–you have to talk to me. This and sex in general, is just another form of communication. It won't work well and you definitely won’t squirt unless you can express to your partner what feels good and what doesn’t.”  
You are sure he can feel the heat gathering in your cheeks radiating off your skin.
“Stop t-teasing S-Sugu… I-I know you can tell it’s good.”
Suguru eases his hold on you, his smirk deepening at your complaint.
“Oh I can, tell Bunny. Believe me. Your pussy, she’s so sensitive no matter how much you try to hide it from me. But I still need to hear it from your mouth regardless.”
The hand playing with your cunt splays out and Suguru fully cups you in his hands. The pulsing of your clit vibrates against his palm even through your panties.
“If you’re going to be a slut Bunny, at least be a vocal one. Be a slut for your own pleasure...this fat n’pretty cunt of yours deserves it.” 
Suguru’s mouth is mere millimeters above yours, floating suspended both your lips are parted as you’re sharing the same air. The dizzying effect of breathing him in only intensifies with his words.
“Or perhaps you just get off on the idea of being free use?”
Suguru chuckles but doesn’t make you answer that question in favor of pulling back from you to inspect the large wet spot you soaked through your cheer panties from all of his taunting.
Pleased he gives your clothed pussy a smack, the moisture underneath the flimsy fabric evident in the soft squelchy sound that fills the room.
Smack, another moist sound echoes from your cunt.
“Oh, looks like she’s ready. This mouth down here is so much more talkative, Bunny.”
Hooking his fingers in the fabric Suguru peels your soaked cheer panties to the side, whistling at the thick strings of your essence that lingered between your cunt and your panties.
“So fucking wet, the prettiest most obedient lil’ pussy, aren’t you?”
A fleeting thought of sassing Suguru since yours is the first real pussy he has actually even seen up close dissipates as soon as your entrance flutters against his two thick fingers that rub over your uncovered opening. 
Involuntary bucking your hips, the burning urge to feel him inside you is all you care about now, pride be damned. 
You want him.
“Sugu–”
“–Shhh!”
Suguru cuts your pleas short.
“Don’t interrupt Doctor Geto when he’s speaking with his favorite patient, Bunny… Your nasty lil’ cunt is really begging for her treatment, isn’t she?”
You pout at him, quieting down while Suguru rewards your submission by slipping into your folds once more, entering fully past your entrance and into your gummy walls. It’s only a single digit inside you but your pussy is hungrily sucking him in deeper, trying to devour his middle finger whole. 
Suguru murmurs intelligible obscenities from how warm and tight you are. He needs to find that spot. 
Your hands struggle to keep your legs from quaking when you feel his finger, longer, thicker and far more pointed than your own, bottom out before languidly dragging delicious pressure back through you, exploring your walls in search of–
“Found her.”
Your ass jerks up and nearly off the desk entirely when his finger roughly prods into the firm spongy spot within your cunt you didn’t even know existed until now. 
“FAH-FAH-FUHHCKKKKKKKKK–”
Your voice cracks and your vision blurs with tears that finally are cascading down your face smudging your mascara. Your reaction has you missing the wide-eyed look of amazement Suguru gives you utterly entranced by the way your entire body quivered from just a solid tap to the gland. 
Suguru had expected an intense reaction. He’d seen and read about how temporary control of muscles and spasms were common when abusing this spot in women. But the one thing textbooks, articles, nor porn could prepare him for was how fucking sexy you’d be while he was doing it. 
The ache in his pants has him groaning as he has to lean nearly his entire weight into you in order to get your lower half to settle back down on the desk. Pausing his movements inside of you, Suguru allows you to catch your breath.
Still the heavy pad of his finger is weighing down on you with enough force you still need to suck in your breaths, barely able to squeak out words.
“W-Wh-What is th-that S-Suguuu?!”
Suguru tells you not to worry about the actual name. It’s not very sexy, so you won’t remember it and it’s important that you do, so eventually he tells you to just call it the g-spot. 
You groan at the loss of pressure on your g-spot when Suguru removes himself from you entirely in order to bring the finger that had been inside you to his lips. Watching him savoring the essence of your sweet cunt on his tongue, you couldn’t take any longer, finding your voice. 
“Su-Surugu, N-Need–N-need more. P—please!”
Suguru obliges, slapping the fat of your ass teetering off the desk and lifts you as his knee slides under your hip. Leaning into you further, Suguru throws one of your shapely legs over his shoulder. 
“Oh, you found your voice Bunny? Then tell me what my patient wants. Where does Doctor Geto need to touch you?”
“M-my pussy– fuck– p-please Sugu, wanna feel good there. She’ll be so good for you!”
Suguru’s pleased smile is your only warning before two of his large fingers plunge-in and bottom out inside your cunt, knocking against your cervix. Your jaw completely slacks as you groan at the sudden intrusion, allowing Suguru the perfect invitation to your mouth. 
Wasting no time, Suguru crashes his lips into yours. The kiss is sloppy, hot and needy as any cries that attempted to leave you were drowned out in the wet cavern of Suguru’s mouth. 
Fuck, you’re greedy as hell. 
The kiss makes Suguru’s head spin and he loses himself in your sinful hunger as you wrap your arms around his neck and begin to dominate the kiss, sucking on his tongue. Soon Suguru finds himself groaning against your lips and slowly rocking his cock into the back of your thigh. Fuck, your body was too responsive, too eager for him to slut you out on his fingers. 
Suguru couldn’t lose sight of the goal though, you needed to squirt so he needed to take back control.
Catching you off guard, he bullies a third finger– his ring finger, into your cunt as well. Breathless you break the kiss, your eyes sinking back into your head as you meet the thrusts of his fingers with the roll of your hips.  
You aren’t able to control the way your body convulses as you writhe against Suguru. His massive body weighed over you as his hair fell in front of his face, hiding his crazed expression from you. 
Suguru is also panting as he vigorously pumps the appendages into you. In and out, swirling them Suguru’s fingers take special care to zigzag sweet torment over your g-spot. 
You’ve only felt the slight ghostings of this feeling before, nothing so pointed and focused on attacking this spot, while stretching your pussy so well in the process. You want– no need, to feel Suguru’s cock inside you next. 
You could tell he must be huge. Heat was radiating off his girthy bulge as it twitched up against your ass cheek even through Suguru’s joggers. The thought causes the hot iron coil in your stomach to tense to its breaking point, begging for release.
Suguru notices.
“A-Are you gonna squirt for me, Y/N?”
For the first time his own voice is ragged, set on keeping his promise to you.
“S-Sugu, I-I– I want to but I–” 
Your words catch in your throat as tears that are salty to the taste freely flow past your lips down your chin. You are unsure of what exactly to beg Suguru for even if you could do more than unintelligible babbles at the moment. 
It’s coming– you panic— this feeling!
“W-w-ait! Nooo, S–Su–Sugu… I’m g-gonna pee. S-stop, p-puhleaseee!
Your hands slip against Suguru’s shoulders as you try in vain to push him away. So fearful that Suguru was wrong and you may actually piss all over him and his desk. 
Suguru isn’t having it though, backhanding your clit with a harsh smack, his knuckle bullying into your bud. 
The slap was followed by two more in quick succession, his other hand never slowing inside of you. Disregarding your pleas Suguru ventures even deeper into your guts while pressing down on your lower belly.
“I told you it’s not pee, Bunny. You don’t listen very well, do you?”
Suguru hiss at you, the stress of holding himself back as you fall apart on his fingers was nearly too much, he needed you to lay back, be good for him and take it.
“I-I’m s-sowy, Dr. Geto but– I– wanna–.”
You sniffle back more tears, which has Suguru calming himself in order to soothe you again.
“Shh Bunny, it’s okay– now ask your doctor nicely for what you need. Go on.” 
At this point cuming, squirting, whatever Suguru you requires of you in order to release the feral sensations building within you is an essential need to live as much as taking your next breath.
“Doctor Geto, please let me cum! Sugu please! G-gonna s-squirt, gonna squirt s-so g-good for you!!”
“That’s right baby you will… Now squirt on me Bunny, make a pretty mess all over my fucking fingers.”
Timing a particularly hard jolt to your g-spot with simultaneous pressure from over your belly, has you tipping over the edge. Back arching you feel the gratifying release as you squirt hard, fluids spurting all over Suguru’s fingers and spilling down his forearms. The saccharine pleasure of it all is buzzing throughout every cell in your body as your eyes flutter back into your skull. 
Your entire body feels like an extension of your pussy, pulsing in tune with your cunt and you don’t realize you are even screaming until Suguru’s mouth is on top of yours once again. 
Suguru is tongue fucking your wails all the way back into the depths of your throat until they are mere raspy gurgles.
Riding out your orgasm you protest with choked cries as Suguru's hand abruptly leaves your cunt. Yet before you can process what’s happening you’re mewling loudly again once you feel his lips attacking your cunt. Sucking your clit between his lips, his own groans vibrate into your core making you all the more sensitive. 
Your hands fly to him again, tangling up in his long raven locks and trying to push his head away. 
Too much! You were far too sensitive right now for him to be lapping at your over stimmed cunt like a mad man.
“Stawwp–”
Your slurs fall on deaf ears as Suguru continues, only pulling back briefly to shush you.
“Haven’t got it all out. This pretty pussy is so fucking nasty she can give a little more, can’t you baby? I know she can.”
Suguru is speaking to you but he sounds a million miles away, focused only on your cunt as he returns to suckling on your clit, his teeth scraping lightly. He knows your pussy will give him the answer he is looking for soon enough. 
The iron grip his arms have around your thighs holds you down allowing Suguru unimpeded access to dribble globs of his spit into your folds. His tongue flattens over your clit and his eyes smolder into yours before diving back into your pussy. 
So close to cumming yet again your thick thighs clench around him as you unintentionally smother his face deeper into your core. Suguru ignores any need to take breaths, your cunt being the only sustenance needed as he rams his tongue further into your convulsing hole. 
Shaking his head around sloppily, Suguru is goading your cunt into giving him more and more. His tongue is a mere worshiper in the temple between your thighs, begging your leaking pussy to give him the last morsels of your squirt. 
Not having the willpower to deny him, your pussy gushes out more onto his tongue and shamelessly he swallows all of it as you cum all over again.
By the time Suguru detaches himself from your cunt he looks almost as wrecked as you: hair is matting to the sides of his face, his glasses are clouded with slick and your juices are dripping down his chin. 
Although, now that Suguru has had a taste of you he is left craving more. Not letting a single drop of your juices go to waste Suguru is ferally slurping the drippings off your thighs and lowering his head to even zamboni the overflow of your essence off the desk beneath you. Ravenous with thirst for you Suguru is even using his mouth to squeeze out any droplets he could retrieve from your soaked cheer panties. 
You on the other hand could only heave as you gasped for breath. Your legs are still twitching in the after shock of your intense orgasm and squirt session. Dizzy and dazed you feel yourself fading out, unsure of how much time has passed or what Suguru was still doing between your legs until the familiar ring of your phone slowly guides you back into the present. 
Wiping his face with the back of his hand Suguru stands up and pulls your phone out of his pocket.
The phone is still ringing as he looks down at it and snickers. 
“It’s Toru, Y/N. Answer it.”
You give Suguru a frowny pout. You were barely conscious right now, you couldn't handle a drunkenly energetic Satoru. 
Seeing you making no attempts to move, Suguru answers it for you and Satoru’s voice overflows through the speakerphone.
“Y/N! Y/N! Where are ya at!? We need the beer pong queen to make her appearance, I need a partner! Nanamin is too good to beat without you!”
Suguru held the phone out to you but you could respond in labored puffs.
“Y/N is taking a study break, a bit tired after her lesson.”
“–Oh it's you Suguru!”
You end up tuning Satoru out as he’s begging Suguru to come to the party with you which you already knew wasn’t going to happen even if he didn’t just make you squirt all over him. 
Willing yourself to sit up, your body is  immediately revitalized when your eye is drawn to how bricked Suguru currently is in his dark gray sweats. 
Suguru arches his brow in amusement as you pull him forward by the band of his joggers. You hurriedly fumble to untie them, pushing them and his boxers down to reveal his hard cock. 
The sight of it nearly has you squeeing.
You practically have hearts in your eyes as you gawk at Suguru’s cock, it’s the prettiest you’ve ever seen. The way his girth swayed in front of you as pre marbles on the tip has you openly salivating. To say his length and thickness is above average, was a massive understatement. 
You can’t estimate a size but you know he is huge as you eye the a large vein on the underside of his cock that seemed to weigh him down even though fully erect. You squirmed at the thought of that vein scraping inside your pussy as Suguru pounded you.
You need to feel it. Now.
Nevertheless, it isn’t until Suguru snaps his fingers in front of your face did you realize Gojo was now addressing you again through the phone.
“Y/N! You there?! I failed with Sugu! He’s lame! But you’ll be here soon right???”
A sharp contrast to just 30 mins earlier but partying was the last thing on your mind now. You needed to get Satoru off the phone and Suguru’s cock inside you expeditiously. 
“Mhm-nh, Toru sorry, I–I really need to get a good grade. I need Sugu to tutor me a bit more. C-Can’t afford to flunk out!”
Although you had teased Suguru earlier about popping his cherry, you didn’t care if he was a virgin now. He had more than proved himself despite his lack of hands-on sexual experience. 
You weren’t really paying attention to Satoru any longer as Suguru motions for you to lay back again. Readily, you get in position returning your legs to a stirrup pose. 
Suguru rewards your obedience with his cock slapping against your clit.
“Mmmm…FUHH-CK-AH!”
You don’t care that Satoru is still on the line as Suguru is slipping his cock under your cheer panties, rubbing his fat tip along your folds. His cock sandwiched between your messy cunt and the soaked fabric has Suguru groaning at the crazy sensation, he could bust like this for sure.
“Huh? Oh.. OHHHHHH! Haha, I see, I see! Suguru’s lessons are the best, aren’t they Y/N?”
You’re openly moaning now. Barely registering Toru’s words as Suguru grunts, increasing the pace he’s bullying his cockhead across your clit.
“Y-yeah, the besssst-ahhh!” 
Satoru, feeling more than a bit left out, starts pouting over the phone.
“Hey, no fair playing with Bunny without me Sugu! Let me join ne–” 
Suguru abruptly cuts Satoru’s complaints short, hanging up on him while still rutting his tip over your pussy. His pre leaking out in globs and mixing with your own cum still dripping from you.
He wanted you all to himself, for now at least.
Satoru could fuck off.
“Gawwd Sugu–just fuck m–”
You abruptly stop as your face falls in realization when you feel his warm cum pour over your mound and into your cheer panties. 
Suguru is spilling so much of his thick load into you it's even coming out the sides of your cheer panties and running down into the crack of your ass. A few more jerks of his cock through your folds and he is quickly pulling back to tuck his softening length back into his sweats.
“N-no,no no no S-Sugu! Suguru! I-t’s okay you came fast but please— fuck me. I’ll even let you raw me and cum inside puhleaseeee Sugu– need to squirt again all over your cock!”
You don’t know the kind of willpower it takes Suguru to refuse you. 
Probably one of the hardest things he’s done in his life, especially as fresh tears trickle from your eyes and he knows you’d be crying just as adorably on his cock. You were too sexy, too perfect and he wanted to fuck you just as badly as he knew you wanted him to.
BUT– more importantly he wanted to enjoy you more than for a quick fuck and if he indulged you now, he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t be relentlessly tearing up your sweet slutty pussy all night. 
If you didn’t start studying for real you were definitely going to get kicked out of school and he can’t have that, especially not now after this. 
Masking his own lust with a stern instructor voice Suguru chastises you as he ties his hair back onto a bun and begins to give his glasses a proper cleaning before adjusting the books and papers on his desks around you back into their correct piles.
“Absolutely out of the question. Now be a good girl and pull up your panties, Y/N. We have a lot of ground to cover tonight.”
Sticky with Suguru’s cum, frustrated and still horny you groaned loudly but obeyed. You knew Suguru meant business. 
You hoped if you listened to him well enough you’d get what you wanted by the end of the night. It would suck for you to suffer through studying but it was the best motivation you had in literal years. 
Unfortunately for you, Suguru, focused on the bigger picture, had a larger goal in mind.
“Only smart sluts get dick, Bunny. You’d better get an A on that exam Monday if you really want this cock.”
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© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2024. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ.
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a/n: I would be willing to write a part 2 (some time in the future) of y/n popping Sugu cherry or even y/n getting double teamed by 'The Boom Bros' as a 'thank you' for taking the fall for them if there was interest. I'm kind of fond of this little college AU.
Reblog for an anatomy lesson from Nerd!Geto but likes and comments are also appreciated as always!
NEXT is back to my own ficcys! Upcoming: The Nursery - Yakuza!Toji x Y/N - teaser/taglist: ╰┈➤here. Delays cause I've been without my adhd meds and getting the first part of the fic beta'd for once but I FINALLY got them today and was able to finish this fic so hopefully I can get back on track! send me good vibes y'all!
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Note
I am not the asshole, and I think this whole thing is stupid, but I was promised that if I sent my side of things to this blog I could pick the hotel for our honeymoon, and I am marrying a man who once tried to take me BACKPACKING of all things, so this ask has become a necessity. In light of that:
AITA (I'm NOT) for planning the seating for our wedding in a logical way?
I got engaged in June, apparently in part because of my partner writing in to this blog (I don't know how to find or link to his posts, but I'm the man who got the cat to bite him, if that rings any bells?). At any rate, for the past ten weeks, I've been in the beginning stages of planning our wedding with my fiance, whom I have been secretly attempting to remove from the planning process as much as possible. I have ALREADY been given a list of his must-haves, and I AM incorporating as many of them as our budget allows. This has NOTHING to do with the emotional side of the event, and EVERYTHING to do with the fact that this is an idiot with no real planning experience or taste who thinks he knows more than me.
For the most part, this has worked very well. I'm the one who's been collating all the contact information for things, so I just replaced all the emails for the tacky companies with false addresses, responded to his inquiries as the companies to say the date was already booked or the price was outside our budget, and let him filter his way to the ones I DO like on his own. I also made a fuss about being "willing to compromise" on the few things he's picked I'm completely fine with in the hopes I can use it to make him compromise later, and have been humming portions of the songs I want on the playlist in the hopes he'll think he came up with the idea to include them himself.
None of this is the real problem. The PROBLEM is that he is deliberately ruining my seating chart, by moving our horrible friend's seat when I'm not looking.
The man in question dated both of us at one point in our VERY early 20s (both ended BADLY), is generally the messiest person we know, and will almost certainly get sloppy drunk and try to make a speech IF he does make an appearance. I'm banking on the fact that he won't, because he's also ridiculously wealthy, and will almost certainly send us some very lavish gift in lieu of coming.
He is SUPPOSED to be sitting beside my fiances aunt, at the same table as his grandmother, his work friend, and her girlfriend, because all four of these women are stone cold terrors who I believe are more than capable of keeping him in line on the slim chance he does come. My fiance INSISTS they won't be able to have any fun if they're running interference all night, and keeps moving him to sit at the head table instead. You know, where WE are. I finally caught him switching the label magnets on my planning board last night, and confronted him.
I tried leveraging how much I've been compromising already, that he's almost certainly going to RSVP no, and that I shouldn't have to deal with him on our big night. My fiance said he knew about all the fake emailing and such, and told me, and I QUOTE: "Look, the mind game shit was hot when it was just about the colour scheme or whatever, but I actually care about this. So you can suffer with everybody else, or you can do the normal thing and not invite a guy you hate to our wedding, you weirdo."
I said that if I did that, it would take out half his groomsmen, he called me an asshole and said I should go explain this to "literally any rational adult" so they could tell me I was in the wrong, and now here we are.
Would you recommend calling my fiance's bluff, since he doesn't want the man sitting near us either? Or should I focus on ensuring he'll turn down the invitation no matter what, so the matter of where he WON'T be sitting can be a moot point?
What are these acronyms?
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The update
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strang3lov3 · 7 months
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VS
Summary: Yours and Joel’s newest patrol task is exploring the old mall not far from Jackson. You learn what Victoria’s Secret really is. (She was NOT having an affair with former president of the United States Colonel Sanders) AKA grumpy cranky joel and you get down and dirty in an old Victoria’s Secret.
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This is part 1 of my new series “Mall Rats”
Warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, doin it in front of a mirror (thanks gracie!), reverse cowgirl, joel is a dick, joel is condescending, reader is charming just like me, Joel does all the work because reader is a lady and Joel is an asshole.
W/C: 4.7k
“Weird looking stairs,” you mumble as you take in the unique environment. Beneath your feet are metallic steps with deep lined grooves, in front of you is Joel, stepping down the staircase. In the enclosed building, the walls are lined with different shops, there’s a few different seating areas. Old posters, advertisements. Colorfully painted walls are overgrown with roots and vines. 
“S’cause they’re not regular stairs,” Joel says with a gruff voice. “S’called an escalator. Didn’t have to walk up and down the steps, you could stay stationary and it’d move ya up an’ down.”
“Sounds cool.”
“No,” Joel mutters. “Not cool.”
None of this is cool to Joel. In fact, it’s the opposite. 
Tommy and his crew had stumbled across this mall while on patrol. Of course they couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, but they deemed it largely safe of infected. He wasn’t sure how picked over it was, but he figured it would be a good task for you and your curious mind. Comb it through for supplies, clothing, entertainment. Take notes and report back to him. 
So what was Joel there for?
To chaperone you, of course. Keep you out of trouble, keep you safe, answer your million and one questions. 
It was Tommy’s sick and twisted idea of a joke. Joel’s new patrol project involved two of the things he disdained the most: Malls, and you.
 Comedy gold.
“No,” you mock his tone with a silly face, “Not cool.”
Joel rolls his eyes and ignores you. When you reach the bottom of the steps, he looks at his surroundings as he reaches in his bag for his flashlight. Turning it on he says, “We’ll start down here and work our way up. Scope everything out, get familiar. Then you can start combing through the stores for supplies and what have you. You stick by me. No wanderin’.”
“Don’t you mean we?” you ask. “We comb through the stores.”
“No, sweetheart, I don’t. S’your job, not mine. I’m just here to keep ya from gettin’ killed.”
Whatever. Joel can bitch and moan about this all he wants, but you’re grateful for the opportunity to explore the infinite wonders of the mall. It’s not like you’ve got much else to do. You’re indoors, safe from the elements and infected. You’re not complaining. 
You reach into your own bag and pull out your flashlight. You turn it on, and the light flickers dimly. You smack it with your palm a couple times before the light finally goes out, then turn to Joel with a sweet smile on your face. “You wouldn’t happen to have a couple extra–”
“You’re lucky I do,” Joel glares at you as he digs through his belongings to find a couple of double A batteries in his pack. You hold out your hand and he begrudgingly drops the batteries in your palm. “Quit fuckin’ around. Be prepared next time.” He’s certainly jolly today. 
You replace the batteries and turn your flashlight on, and begin to make your way through the bottom level of the mall. Joel’s said nothing since giving you the batteries. 
“So what did you do here? Or, not here specifically. Just like, malls in general,” you ask as you make your way through tables and chairs. A big sign on a nearby wall informs you that this area is called the food court. 
“I did nothing. Malls were always packed with people, way too busy. Too many teenagers. Expensive too,” Joel scrunches his nose as he catches a whiff of something foul at an old hot dog stand. “But other people, they’d come here and shop for clothes, get somethin’ to eat. Could catch a movie f’ya wanted.”
“So where’d you get your clothes from?”
Joel shrugs. “Dunno. Just kinda always had them in my dresser, I guess.”
Sounds like Joel. 
There’s a Panda Express, something called Auntie Anne’s that you and Joel are looking through together. He’s eyeing the cooking equipment and you’re baffled as you stare at a five gallon drum of nacho cheese on the floor.
“That cheese is probably still good,” Joel comments. 
“You’re joking.”
“It ain’t the real cheese like we got back in Jackson. Auntie Anne’s was a pretzel shop, lotta people would dip ‘em in that cheese.”
Auntie Anne’s doesn’t have much to offer, so you and Joel move right along. Next stop is Kentucky Fried Chicken. You point to the man on the logo. “Who’s that?”
“Colonel Sanders. He was the president way back when.”
You know better. “No, he wasn’t.”
“Sure he was,” Joel says. “You weren’t there. You don’t know.”
He’s such a dick. You roll your eyes and leave him and Colonel Sanders to their own devices as you walk through the rest of the food court. 
Joel doesn’t realize you’d left. He tells you another Kentucky Fried Fun Fact and when he’s met with no answer, he looks up to find you at Cinnabon at the end of the food court. 
He makes his way to you then kicks you with his boot. “Didn’t I tell you to stay next to me?”
You ignore his question and ask him your own. “What’s Cinnabon?”
“M’serious,” he says. “No more wanderin’.”
“Yeah, yeah. No wanderin’.” you mock his Southern accent once more. But more importantly, you demand answers. “Tell me about Cinnabon.” 
“They’re just cinnamon rolls. Cinnamon. Bun. S’in the name, genius.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t like those much either, then.”
“Actually, they were pretty good. Big and gooey, covered in icing. You were supposed to split ‘em with someone but I never did.”
“Ah, right. You and your sweet tooth,” You smile. 
“I don’t have a sweet tooth,” Joel lies. “Keep movin’.”
So you do. There’s a lemonade stand here and there, but mostly shops now. A bookstore, jewelry stores. Something called “Wet Seal”. You ask Joel what it is, to which he replies “Fuck if I know.”
A shoe store has piqued Joel’s interest. He’s looking for a new pair of boots as you stare out the window of the shop, wondering who the hell Victoria is and what secret she’s hiding. Joel taps you on the arm to tell you to follow him as he leaves the shoe store.
“What’s Victoria’s Secret?”
“Oh,” Joel says. “Nothin’. We don’t need to go there.”
Oof. Bad move, Joel. Now you have to find out what the deal is with Victoria’s Secret. You take off for the store, ignoring Joel’s orders to stick by his side. “Did she have a secret affair with President Colonel Sanders?”
“No, god dammit. Get back here. We ain’t goin’.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t wanna.”
But you do. So you ignore his bitching and approach the store, stopping when you realize exactly what kind of store it is. “Oh.”
Joel catches up to you. “Mhm,” he mumbles. “S’just underwear. Now c’mon, I’m tired of chasin’ ya.”
“No way,” you argue. “I need new underwear. I’m actually going commando right now, so this is perfect.”
 Joel makes a face like he’s in pain and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ. Boundaries.”
You don’t believe in TMI. 
You enter the store, entranced by the women in the photos and the black sparkly floor. There’s a big table with panties laid on top, drawers underneath that indicate sizing. You open the drawers with your size and begin sifting through the underwear. All different styles, patterns, colors. Way cuter than the few you have back in Jackson. 
You pick out a few different pairs. Brown with pink polka dots, pink with red roses. Some bikini styles, some boyshorts. You hold up a white pair with lace and a little blue flower sewn on the center of the waistband. “Joel, look! Aren’t these cute?”
“Just adorable,” he mumbles without bothering to actually look. If his voice were any more full of sarcasm he’d choke. Joel keeps his eyes firm on the ground, like he’s being intimidated by the mannequins and their threatening panties. You giggle and he shoots you a warning look. 
You look for a few more pairs, then find a few pairs that look a little different. You hold one up, trying to figure out which side you put your legs through. When you look at the nearly bare-assed woman in the advertisement that reads 5 for $20 above you, you realize how it’s meant to be worn. Oh, you think. Neato. You stuff a few of the thongs in your bag. Could be fun. 
Joel’s still behind you, eyes still focused on the floor, off in his own, prudish little world. You wonder what he’s thinking. There’s a fire engine red thong in the drawer, with sparkles and lace. You know, the works. And you know it’ll be just perfect for a special someone. “Hey, Joel. Found some for you.”
“Not interested.”
You loop the thong over your index finger and pull back with your other hand, then shoot it at Joel like it’s a hair tie. It hits him square on his nose and he catches it in his hand, then throws it on the ground as he pouts. “Alright, enough. You’re done. We’re leavin’.”
You shake your head. “Tommy said I’m in charge.”
Joel groans. “Oh, for the love of god. In charge, my ass.”
You know better than to keep arguing. So you just walk towards the bras, ignoring Joel’s voice in the background telling you to get back here. He hates it when you walk away from him when he’s speaking, so he always follows you so that you hear every last word. It works out, though. You get to do what you want, and Joel gets to give you his stern talking-to. How’s that for a compromise?
The bras are set up similarly to the panties, with different drawers for different sizes. Joel’s still going off about how you never follow orders, how you probably don’t even need any of this, you’re just doing it to get under his skin. And it’s working. Something about how when we get back to Jackson, I’m telling Tommy to take me off of patrol with y–
You interrupt. “The fuck?”
“What?”
“What does any of this mean? 30A, 30B, 32A, 34C, 34DD?” You hold up different bras and show him the tags. 
“Those are sizes, sweetheart.” 
“Yeah, I gathered that, thanks. But what’s my size?”
“Why’re ya askin’ me? Just grab one so we can go. Christ almighty.” 
Men. No help at all. 
Surely a store that specializes in bras must have some sort of sizing chart or something. There’s end caps with different beauty products, you stuff a strawberry flavored lipgloss in your pocket as you search. The register might have something, you guess. And lucky you, you’re right. Under the counter are a few measuring tapes and charts. 
Predictable Joel follows you, of course. He says nothing as you read through the instructions. First wrap around your back, under your armpits and just above your bust. That’s your band size. Then do the same with your bust, and subtract the band size from the bust. There’s your A, B, C, D and so on.
You take off your hoodie and stand in just a tank top, no bra. When you said commando, you meant it. Joel watches you as you wrap the measuring tape around yourself. 
“Sweetheart,” Joel interrupts, and he sounds exhausted. “What are you doin’.”
“Making you a Cinnabon, what’s it look like?” you mumble with your chin smushed into your neck as you try to read the numbers on the tape. 
And Joel thought Ellie was annoying. 
You’ve got the measuring tape twisted and tangled behind you, and you don’t even realize it. The inner contractor in Joel can’t bear to watch any more of this fuckery. “Give me that,” he spits, yanking the measuring tape away from your body. “You’re useless.”
Joel looks over the directions for a moment before tapping your arms. You lift up, he wraps the measuring tape properly around your body. There’s a nearby pen and he scribbles the number down, then lowers the measuring tape, his thumbs skating over the clothed flesh of your breasts. Your nipples harden as his fingers brush them accidentally. 
And you thought the thong you shot at Joel was red. It doesn’t even begin to compare to the shade of crimson Joel’s face turns as he realizes what he’s done. Quickly, he drops the measuring tape and writes down the second number and your bra size. “Ther-” his voice cracks and he clears his throat. “There. Go find your bra. Then we’re leavin’, and I’m not arguin’ this time.”
You smirk at his vocal mishap. “Okay. But I have to try them on first.”
“You never make things easy for me, do you?”
Joel follows you as you look for a few different bras in your size. You pick out a few that match your panties, and a few others. There’s a silky black bra with so much memory foam padding that it rivals your pillow at home. Again, perfect for your special someone. 
Joel’s smelling different perfumes when you sidle up to him and lay the bra on his head, the large cups sitting on either side of his scalp. “Mickey Mouse,” you tell him.
Joel glares at you as he removes the bra and drops it on the floor. “You are giving me a fuckin’ aneurysm.” 
You look pleased with yourself, which only makes him more pissed off. But the table next to Joel catches your eye. There’s a pretty satin babydoll dress, with a matching pair of panties. It’s a nice light pink color, with pretty floral lace. “Hmm.” you mumble, thinking to yourself.
Joel watches your eyes leave his face as you become distracted. “What?” he turns his attention toward where your vision is focused. “Oh. Nope. You don’t need that.”
 “Why not?”
“You said you needed underwear. S’lingerie. All them frills and lace…” Joel trails off.
“I think it’d be nice for a date night.”
Joel’s jaw clenches slightly. “I do not envy the poor bastard who takes you home,” he says. He’s probably just annoyed, at his wit’s end with you. Probably not jealous. Definitely not jealous. “But guys don’t give a shit what you’re wearin’, honey. Just wanna get what’s underneath. S’a waste of time.”
You shrug and grab your size in the lingerie anyway. Then you take off towards the dressing rooms to try everything on. You enter the first room on the right, and Joel sits at a bench directly across, just a few feet away from you. 
You try on a couple of bras and feel pleased when they fit and support you. They make the girls sit pretty, too.
You take off the bra and eye the pretty babydoll and its matching bottom. So you try it on, and it’s gorgeous. It frames you nicely, sits right above your ass to show off the panties. You admire yourself in the mirror for a while before deciding you’ll save it for a date night. Fuck what Joel says. Maybe he doesn’t like lingerie, but that doesn’t mean you can’t. 
Things are going smoothly until you try to unhook the babydoll in the back. It’s stuck or something. You fidget with it for a second, accidentally smacking your elbow against one of the dressing room walls in the process. 
“Y’alright in there?” Joel calls out to you.
“Fine, just uh…” You step out of the dressing room. “Need your help with the hook in the back. It’s stuck.”
Joel looks like a deer in the headlights when you stand before him, clad in your pink satin babydoll and matching panties. You leave the changing room door open, Joel stares at your ass on the mirror attached to it. He’s all flustered, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Lord have mercy.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re not a lingerie guy.”
Joel swallows thickly. “I don’t know about that, exactly.”
“No?” You raise an eyebrow. Joel, suddenly a man of few words. How much nicer he is when he’s quiet, you think. “How about you unhook it so I can change?”
“Yeah I could uh…do that.” Joel stands up, then carefully holds the straps of your dress between his fingers. His featherlight touch leaves goosebumps on your shoulders. “Shouldn’t be wearin’ this. It’s very impractical.” 
“I know, Joel. You mentioned that.”
His hands trail lower down the straps, his fingers resting against your skin. “Uh huh. Cheap material…could get torn very easily f’ya aren’t careful.”
And then his fingers are moving up the straps again. He places two hands on your hips and turns you around, fingers skating across your ass cheeks. You feel his body step closer to yours, his hot breath on your neck as he whispers, “M’sure it's not stitched too good. Probably not easy to clean, either.” He catches you off guard when you look at yourself in the mirror. He’s staring intently at the reflection of your body, then his eyes flicker to yours.
“Right,” you agree. 
Joel’s scanning your body again, observing how the fabric falls around your curves just so. He looks hungry, like the moment you peel your eyes from him he’ll devour you.
“Are you gonna take it off of me?” He ignores your question as he pinches the bottom of your babydoll between his fingers, the soft satin tickling your skin as he moves the fabric. “Joel?”
“Yeah, hon. I’m gettin’ there. Be patient f’me, now.” Your stomach flutters at the low timbre of his voice, the way he purrs in your ear. Joel absolutely does not like lingerie. Not one bit, god dammit.
His eyes are darkened with lust as he sucks in a breath, admiring the way your breasts sit beneath the clothing, the way it drapes over your stomach and rests on your hips. One of the straps falls off your shoulder and he clicks his tongue. “See? S’no good.”
“Guess so,” you agree, and he places the strap back on your shoulder, his fingers lingering for a moment too long as he contemplates his next move.
“Closer,” he pulls your hand towards himself, and you step backward. He lets his hands slide down your body over the lingerie and you watch him frown in the mirror, his hands stopping when he reaches the bottom of your dress. “N’it covers up all these pretty curves…” Joel lifts up the fabric, inspecting the craftsmanship of your panties. He takes note of the way they’re darkened beneath your core, sticky with your arousal. “These panties…thin, huh?” He traces a finger delicately over the strap on your hip, pulling it back and snapping on your skin. 
Your breath hitches in your throat. “Joel,” you breathe shakily, “You’re teasing me.”
“M’sorry, darlin’. Just tryna show ya somethin’.” You watch as he trails a finger over your mound, dragging it across the damp cloth and finding your clit over the fabric. He rubs steady circles as he whispers, “See, now look at that. You’re stainin’ em. Makin’ a big fuckin’ mess of yourself.”
You bite back a moan. “Joel, what are you doing?”
“What’s it look like, I’m makin’ a Cinnabon.” Joel mocks you from earlier, but you don’t catch his snide teasing. You’re foggy headed and lost in this moment. “I just said I’m tryna show ya somethin’. Now hush while I’m speakin’.” He pushes your panties to the side, smirking when he feels how soaked your soft folds are as he drags his fingers up and down your slit. Your knees weaken and wobble, and Joel wraps an arm around your waist to guide you back some more. He sits on the bench with you on his lap, tapping a foot in between yours. You spread your legs and your stomach flutters feeling his hardness press against you. You watch him through the mirror as he speaks quietly into your ear, his breath tickling you as two of his thick fingers breach your entrance and push inside. “You said this lil’ number would be nice for a date, right?”
You nod while whimpering, turning your face into his neck. With his other strong hand, he holds your jaw and turns your attention back to the mirror in front of you. “S’matter? Don’t be gettin’ all bashful on me now,” he murmurs.  He’s curling his fingers, swirling them inside you and memorizing every inch of your walls. “Watch how I touch ya.”
You watch his fingers twitch and dance under your pretty pink panties. You peel your eyes away to look at his face, and he’s focused on his hand between your thighs. 
“S’pose it could be nice for a date,” Joel breathes. “You’d wear this, what, under a pretty dress or somethin’?”
You nod again.
“And then when that pretty dress comes off that evenin’, then what happens?”
“I-I dunno, Joel.”
“I know you don’t, sweetheart. I’ll tell you what happens. Your gentleman's gonna take one look at this little getup and rip it right off. Leave it in shreds on the floor and break your poor heart.”
You’re waiting for Joel to do just that. But he doesn’t, he just keeps fingering you under your panties. Two fingers deep inside you, thumb painting circles into your clit. There’s a heat building in your stomach, tickling you from the inside. Joel takes a moment to lift you up, undo his jeans and pull himself out before he begins to rock against you. His head nudges between your cheeks, warm and smooth and hard. How you wish you could see it, hold it in your hand, feel him with your tongue. You squirm against him and find his free arm, hugging it tight to steady yourself on him. Joel chuckles in a low tone.
“But I know you feel pretty,” Joel continues, “M’gonna work around it for ya, baby, but only if you’re good t’me. You know what that means?”
You’re irritated as you shake your head no. Joel’s using his fingers to taunt you, tease you. He knows just how he’s working you up, giving you just enough to keep you squirming but not enough to send you over the edge.
“It means–” Joel pulls his fingers away from your core and you groan. “Shush. Quit your whinin’.” He pushes you up by your hips so he can pull his pants down a little further, then sits you on his lap again, this time with his cock sitting between your folds and your panties pulled as far to the side as he could get them. With his hands still on your hips, he guides you up and down, up and down, coating himself in your arousal. You can just barely make out the shape as his tip rubs against your clit. He continues, “Means no more wanderin’,” he pulls the top of the babydoll down and watches your tits fall out, his both hands leaving your hips and sliding up to play with your breasts. “Y’come prepared for patrol,” he notches his stiff cock at your dripping entrance, “And I’m in charge. Not you. We clear?”
You nod. You’re not sure how he did it, but with Joel’s teasing, he’s seemingly melted away every bit of attitude in you.
“Good girl. Now don’t say I don’t do nothin’ for ya.”
With that, he thrusts up into you, parting your insides. You watch his cock disappear inside of you before throwing your head back on his shoulder with a moan. Joel smirks before using a firm yet gentle hand to guide your head back where he wants it. “Watch,” he coos, reminding you. “You’re pretty like this.”
Joel uses his hands on your hips to bounce you on his cock, then lets them glide up your body. He palms your breasts, squeezing and watching your flesh move and bulge under his fingers. He gropes you a couple of times while pinching and twisting your nipples, enjoying the way your moans change pitch with the action. 
While Joel plays with your nipples, you ride him. Your thighs ache and tremble, knees shaking. You bounce yourself on him a little longer before letting yourself go limp. 
Joel takes the hint, drops his hands to your hips and picks up where you left off. You lean back and let him do his thing. “Gonna make me do all the work for ya, huh?”
You say nothing, just let those sweet sounds fall from your lips as he fucks you. You reach between your thighs and touch what you can of him, unsatisfied with the way you didn’t get to before. Joel makes a noise, seemingly enjoying it.
He kneads your ass as he uses his strong arms to move you up and down, snapping his hips against yours. “Fuck,” he hisses. He lets out breathy sounds, grunts and growls tickling your ear and making the hair on your neck stand straight up. He’s sweating, soaking through his shirt and making your back feel damp. You’ll take what you can get of Joel right now, but you’re wishing you could see him better. Feel him more, his skin, watch his muscles twitch under you. Or above you. You don’t have a preference at the moment.
“Joel,” you moan. “Oh, Joel.”
He smirks, pleased with the noises you make. Pleased with your lack of words, your lack of attitude. How docile for him you are. He would have fucked you long ago if he knew you’d be like this. So well behaved. 
He turns his face into your neck and bites down. Hard. He soothes the marks over with his tongue, whispering nothings into your skin. You find your clit with your hand and begin circling it while Joel fucks into you. You think you have the right. Joel, however, disagrees.
“Hey,” he smacks your hand away. “What’d we talk about? Who’s in charge?” You move your hand between your thighs again, and Joel circles your wrist with his fingers and holds it away from you. “I asked you a question.”
“You are, Joel,” you breathe. 
“S’right. Means I take care of ya,” In the mirror, you watch Joel let go of your wrist and find your clit himself. “Thought you’d know better. Just sit pretty. S’all ya gotta do.”
“Joel,” you whisper, “Let me come,” 
“What’s the magic word, hon?”
“Please,” you beg. “Please. Make me come for you, I want–I wanna come on your cock, please. Please, Joel.”
“Wrong,”
You huff, exasperated and frustrated. 
 “It’s Cinnabon.”
Joel shifts himself on the bench, finding the perfect angle. He continues fucking you, effortlessly finding that sweet spot inside you. He pulls back the hood of your clit, fingers painting the sensitive nub as he begins his work. Your thighs tremble and shake, he keeps you pressed tight to his chest. 
He’s magic. You’re moaning with abandon, eyes darting between the picture between your thighs and his face, and he’s playing with you like he owns you. 
“Right there,” you tell him. “Right there, Joel.”
Soon enough, your moans become breathier and broken, spread out between a medley of curse words and Joel’s name. 
“Yeah,” he says. “Look at you, comin’ so nice on my cock.”
You squeeze Joel’s working arm as you come, nails digging into his hot skin, feeling his tendons and muscles twitch under your fingertips. Your walls pulse and contract with your orgasm, the pleasure built up deep inside you spilling over and coursing through your veins. 
You’re limp against Joel, letting him use you as he chases his own release. He sits you straight up, bounces you harshly for a moment before breathing through his gritted teeth. You pull your attention from the mirror in front of you and focus your vision on your lap, watching as he comes inside you. Watching yourself soak his cock. He keeps you moving, his spend spilling out of you and over your pink panties. 
Joel pulls your body off of him and sits you back down. His spend continues dripping out of you, spilling onto the bench. He gets your clothes out of the dressing room and places them next to you, then stands you up and unclips your babydoll dress in the back. You forgot about that. But he did say he was getting to it, after all. 
He pulls the garment off of you, then helps you out of your stained panties. He helps you into a new pair of panties, the white pair with the little blue flower on the waistband. “So you’re not goin’ commando anymore,” he says. Then he dresses you in one of your new bras, your shirt and your pants. The lingerie lays crumpled on the floor. 
“So you still don’t like lingerie?” you ask.
Joel shrugs. “Keep it. I don’t care,” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You tried your shit on, we’re leavin’.”
That’s fine by you. Next stop is Bath and Body Works. You spotted it earlier, and you actually know what that store is. You’re low on body sprays and you’re gonna make Joel help you pick out some new ones, even if you have to drag him kicking and screaming. 
‘Cause Tommy said you’re in charge. 
Part two here
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wreckofawriter · 8 months
Text
Only If You Catch Me
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pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader
summary: fred had always been frustrated by your endeavors with other men, especially other men that always looked quite a bit like him. after a disastrous mistake during quidditch practice you find yourself wondering how you had never seen fred Weasley in the light you saw him in now
word count: 4.4k
warnings: jealousy, language (maybe?), only proof read once so sorry for any mistakes!
a/n: this is my first big piece in ages, I hope you guys enjoy and im so sorry for my prolonged absence i fell off on writing for a while and im just now getting back to it
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Some things were just facts, plain and simple; the sky is blue, two and two is four and you had a type.
“Another ginger I see.” Alicia murmured as you sat down across from her, pints of butter beer clinking together. Your eyes were locked with a pretty freckled boy by the bar. 
You huffed even though she was quite right, this must have been the third redhead that you set sights on this year. “Well William got boring and,” You paused wrinkling your nose, “-pushy” 
The Three Broomsticks was packed, the sounds of chatter and warmth guarding you from the icy cold of the blizzard that had swept through Hogsmeade. You and Alicia had joined the dozens of students seeking cover in the popular pub and quickly snagged a small table near a large fireplace where you now looked out on the sea of flushed faces and smiles. 
“With your type it's a wonder your last name isn’t Weasley.” Your friend chuckled and you laughed. 
“If I could have gotten my hands on Charlie, it would be.” You replied, your silly crush on the older Weasley brother lasting from your first year to what you were sure would be your last. 
Alicia giggled, taking a large swig from her pint, licking the foam off her top lip. “Why not one of the twins then?”
“What twins?” A voice asked from behind you.
“She couldn’t be talking about us now could she, Georgie?” Fred jested.
“No no,” The other replied, “I mean what could Spinnet possibly want from us?”
Alicia rolled her eyes with great effort, “Trust me when I say I want nothing to do with you. As for my friend here, I don't know if I can say the same.” she said with a smug grin and you sent her a furious look.
Fred smirked, leaning over the back of your chair, his large palms ghosting your shoulders, “Is that true? Do you need something from us?” He leaned in even further, his nose brushing your hair, “from me?”
You began to look a bit red as he pulled away, “Please Weasley,” you managed to scoff “since when do I need things from you? In fact, I believe you still have my Charms notes.”
Fred had come to stand in front of you now, George joining his side, “It's just that your notes are so much better for writing Flitwick’s essay. ” He argued. 
“You don’t even take notes.” You said, exasperated. 
“Exactly” The twins replied in unison. 
Alicia snickered beside you.
Chairs appeared and Fred and George sat. The table seemed half the size it was before as Fred's elbow knocked against yours.
“Made yourselves at home have you?” You spoke, wincing.
Fred just grinned and leaned purposefully closer, thighs now brushing.
You slid towards Alicia who was turning a laugh into a cough and set your eyes back on the boy with freckles. 
“You headed to the Slytherin match next weekend?” Alicia asked absently.
“Of course.” George replied, “I’ve bet Lee a galleon that Malfoy catches a bludger with his nose.” he chuckled,  “He reckons it’ll be his gut.” 
You all smiled at the idea, no one hated Malfoy more than those on the Gryffindor quidditch team. 
“We also have business to do.” Fred said, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously.
“You don't have any more of those nosebleed nougats do you?” You asked, eyes still across the room, “I’ve got to get out of Binns’ class tomorrow.” 
Alicia's eyebrows shot up, you hardly missed History of Magic, or as you liked to call it, nap hour. “Why's that?”. 
“No reason.” You mumbled, intently staring into your butterbeer. 
Fred’s eyes darted between the two of you. 
“Of course we’ve got some.” grinned George, oblivious, “2 sickles a pei-.”
“Or for free if you tell us what you're up to.” Fred interrupted, catching a strange look from his brother. 
“I'm not up to anything!” You gasped with a bit too much enthusiasm. 
Alicias eyes had narrowed to slits and Fred had never looked more unconvinced. 
Your face began to grow hot and you found yourself wishing you had more grace in the act of lying.
“Oh come off it,” George said, “If she wants to snog Murphy instead of hearing about the seventh generation of goblin rebellions, who are we to judge?” 
You were glowing pink now, sending a vicious look at George who had taken to sipping his drink innocently. 
Fred looked appalled, his face contorted like he had just caught a whiff of something horrible, “Murphy!” 
“Keep your voice down.” You hissed angrily, glazing across the room again to be sure he hadn’t heard, “I'm trying to keep it quiet.” 
Fred was fuming, “Who wouldn’t, swapping spit with a git like that.” 
You scoffed, pulling out a small coin purse, “Can I just have some nougat?”
“Nope.” Fred responded, voice suddenly ferocious, “We’re out.”
You were beginning to grow frustrated, “George just said you had some.”
Fred glared at you, “We’re out.” he repeated his nose high in the air.
You turned to George looking for help but he threw you an I’m-not-getting-into-this look and you were forced to round back on Fred. 
You glared at each other for a moment before Fred caved, "Fine we’ve got some,” He huffed, “Three Galleons.” 
Your mouth dropped, “George said 2 sickles!”
He crossed his arms, “They’re in high demand.”
You stood, chair flying back into the wall with a loud crack, “You’re a complete prick.” you said sharply snatching your bag and sweeping past Fred and over to meet Finn Murphy  who was now standing to leave the pub. 
“Well I think you handled that well.” Alicia said, grinning at Fred who looked as though he had been slapped. 
George, who looked all too happy with himself for instigating such an interesting conversation, helped himself to the remains of your butterbeer as you and Murphy bowed out into the flurry of white followed closely by Fred’s glare.
“Looks as though she's gonna snog every redhead at school before you.” Alicia snicked. 
“Yeah,” George snorted, “You might want to keep an eye on Ginny.”
Alicia giggled even harder, pressing a hand to her lips in an attempt to keep her drink in her mouth. 
Fred could hardly hear them, too busy envisioning your latest with large boils all over his face or perhaps vomiting indefinitely. 
Alicia managed to contain herself and shot Fred a sympathetic glance, “I've been trying you know, I keep bringing you up but she seems far more interested in Charlie.” 
“Charlie!” He guffawed, “But he's been gone for ages!”
“Well he seemed to have made quite the impression.” Alicia chuckled. 
“He was captain when she was appointed to the team.” George pointed out. 
“Yeah when she was TWELVE” Fred gasped. 
Alicia couldn’t help it, she had started laughing again, “Relax,” She spoke between breaths, “It’s just a silly school girl crush.” 
Fred looked unconvinced and began to tap his heel incessantly against the floor.
“Take it as a complement!” She continued, “Charlie looks quite a bit like you, I mean you are related after all.” 
Fred was not taking it as pleasantly as she suggested and began to rap his foot on the ground even faster, “We’ve got to do something.” 
“We?” George snorted, “This is all you mate. I’m not the one in love with her.” 
Freds ears grew pink, “I’m not in love with her!” he sputtered. 
“Whatever you say.” Alicia spoke rolling her eyes.
The truth was that if Fred wasn't in love with you, he was so close he may as well have been. At the very least he had been pining after you for years and he had never been particularly quiet about it. In fact he was the opposite of quiet about it. His flirtatious remarks and dazzling complements were quite consistent. Unfortunately so was his coursing jealousy as you paraded around with boy after boy who was not him.  Every year he swore would be the year. The year where you finally realized it was him you needed and all would be right in Fred's world. But time and time again he failed as you walked out the door with a different redhead. He was growing nervous, his seventh year was upon him and this may be his last chance before you were all carted off in different directions never to see each other again. The frustration of it all was turning him bitter.
That night Fred lay awake on his four-poster, staring at the ceiling venomously. What was it? He wondered, What was it that he didn't have that every other ginger you knew seemed to possess? Why was it never him pulling you into broom closets and meeting you after classes? What was he doing wrong? His thoughts spun until he drifted into an uneasy slumber. 
By the time he arrived at the quidditch pitch for practice the next morning, the rest of the team was already changing into their robes as Angilina scribbled vigorously on the chalkboard in front of them, already changed and ready. 
“Fred!” She shouted watching him try to sneak his way into the bustle of the team unnoticed, “What took so long? I was beginning to think I would have to send George back up to wake you.” 
He shrugged, “Sorry Cap, I didn’t get much sleep last night if you know what I mean.” he winked at her and she looked sorely unamused. 
You on the other hand perked up at the insinuation, finally looking at the twin who, in protest of his behavior the day before, you had been ignoring. 
“She gets what I mean,” He smirked nodding towards you, “Up late with Murphy boy last night?” He asked viciously. 
You flushed as the changing room filled with chuckles. 
“Murphy?” Angelina asked, turning to you, “Isn’t he a bit,” She paused, “dim?” 
You scowled at Fred silently before snatching your broom from the rack and marching so quickly out onto the pitch that you hadn’t even noticed you had hit Harry in the temple with its handle. 
As Potter groaned in pain and fixed his askew glasses Fred looked over to Alicia who was shaking her head slightly. As the rest of the team slowly followed you out onto the field she and George made their way towards him. 
“You’re an idiot.” Alicia groaned, “No wonder she won’t go out with you.”  
George chuckled.
Fred glared at the pair, “It’s not my fault she insists on only snogging boys who are 'a bit dim.'" he spoke, mocking Angelina.
“I know that this may be hard to wrap your head around,” Alicia spoke sharply, “But maybe she went out with Murphy because he was, ya know, nice to her.” She then shouldered past the twins leaving Fred gapping at his brother desperately. 
The day was crisp, the heavy licks of winter drawn in by a bitter wind. But the sky was clear and the sun was out, much to everyone’s appreciation. 
Fred mounted his broom still angry, feeling foolish for upsetting you yet again as you stood with your back to him defiantly. 
The whistle blew and the balls were released as the team kicked off, snow flying in all directions as you did so. 
Fred's head was not in practice as it should have been but instead on you, watching you speed towards the goal posts with the quaffle already under your arm. You scored easily on Ron with a feign left.
Fred was so absorbed in you that he had completely forgotten about the bludgers, one of which was hurtling at him with frightening speed. With little time to react he swung his bat wildly and pitched the bludger in the opposite direction, which with a sickening feeling he realized was right at you. 
He tried to shout but you must not have heard him over the howling of wind in your ears. Because when the bludger struck you heavily between the shoulder blades you were completely unprepared. Your vision danced as the air was knocked from your lungs. You were flung from your broom with a shriek and began to plummet.
Fred streamed after you, urging his broom towards the ground with a frightening speed. His Cleansweep shuttered under the immense pressure he suddenly held it in and never before had Fred wished so badly for Potters Firebolt. 
He managed to get beneath you mere feet from the ground. The force at which you hit him knocked you both into the snow with a heavy thud, and there was a sickening sound as his broom snapped in two. 
Neither of you moved for a moment, the snow settling around you and beginning to melt through your robes. 
“Are you alright?” Fred asked and was struck with panic when you did not respond. He sat up quickly pulling you with him, your legs tangled together in the snow. He called your name desperately, hands holding your face as you lay limp in his arms. 
Angelina landed beside the pair followed closely by George and Alicia both of whom were wearing nervous expressions. 
“Y/n!” Fred shouted again, tears stinging his eyes, fear gripping his throat like a vice. He was moments away from shaking you when your eyes slowly peeled open. 
“Fred?” You mumbled, confused. 
The boy let out a barking laugh of relief and then dove into a hug, almost knocking you back to the ground. 
Bewildered, you returned his embrace and realized quite suddenly how much larger than you Fred really was. You practically disappeared into his chest, his broad shoulders shielding you from the wind that whipped across the pitch. You felt frighteningly warm listening to his heart beat quickly beneath his robes. Your cheeks were hot as he pulled away from you and began to search for any look of pain or damage on your face. 
“Are you alright love?” He asked again and was washed with relief when you nodded. 
As you fully realized what was going on around you, you gasped, pulling the handle of Fred's broom out of the snow.
“Your broom!” You looked horrified, “Fred, your broom broke!” 
Fred on the other hand brushed it off helping you to your feet and beginning to pat the snow off your robes, “It’s alright, I’m sure it's fixable.” he shrugged, “Listen, I am so s-”
But before Fred could finish his apology George burst between the two of you, “I am so sorry!” He spoke hurriedly, “The bludger caught me off guard. I swear I wasn’t aiming for you.” 
You chuckled, giving George a pat on the shoulder, “I sure hope not, but 's not me you should be apologizing to anyway.” You said, “It's Fred’s broom that broke.”  
George did not issue his brother any regrets and instead sent him a wink, whipping his wand out of robes and shouting “Repairo!”
The broom snapped back together and Angelina, who was desperate to get back in the air, looked to you, “You alright then?” 
You nodded with a grin and turned back to Fred who was testing the strength of his brother's repair. 
“Thank you so much Fred,” You gushed, looking up at him through your lashes. 
The boy's heart skipped a beat, stomach lurching, “It was no problem really.” He breathed and miraculously found you in his arms for the second time as you lunged towards him.
“Thank you.” You murmured into his robes before disconnecting and swiftly boarding your broom again. 
Fred watched you leave struck for a moment. Alicia shot him a thumbs up and a grin before he was able to clumsily climb onto his own broom and follow you back up into the air. 
By dinner the story of your fall had been told and retold so many times that you were now said to have plummeted upwards of a hundred meters before Fred had heroically scooped you onto his own broom, saving what was sure to be your life. 
In the great hall you kept getting asked if you were okay as down the table Fred got clapped on the shoulder and congratulated for his great save. He seemed to be enjoying the new story a fair bit more than you were. 
Finn had come over to ask about you halfway through dinner but you found suddenly that he was no less than boring and he returned to the Hufflepuff table after a few short minutes with a look of disappointment on his face. 
Fred watched this with such delight he was sure he was glowing. George -who he had been applauding as the best wingman one could ask for all day- poked him hard in the side and pointed down the table to where you sat. Fred turned to catch your eyes already on him. He winked exuberantly and you turned away with a scoff, but your cheeks had taken a rather deep shade of red. 
He grinned so wide at George he thought his lips might split, “I mean this is some real progress!” He cheered, “Did you see that? She was staring at me!” 
Down the hall you turned to Alicia, cheeks still pink, “Have you ever noticed how tall Fred is?” You asked so suddenly she choked on her pumpkin juice. 
You stared at her curiously as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve smiling, “Oh yeah very tall.”
You hummed looking back down the table at the elder twin who was now laughing wildly at something Lee had said, “I guess I never really thought about it before.” 
Angilina shot Alicia a glance as you were distracted and the two of them broke out into giggles. 
“What?” You demanded though you were still smiling. 
“Oh nothing.” Angilina grinned and you huffed turning back to your dinner. 
You found yourself wishing Fred had chosen to sit a bit closer to you as you watched a group of girls across from him break out into giggles at something he said, “There's no way he's that funny.” You muttered knowing he in fact was. 
  Yet you couldn’t find yourself being all that jealous as he kept glancing up at you, as if checking to make sure you were still watching him and much to his delight you always were. His shoulders, you noticed from where you sat picking at plum pudding, were quite wide, his arms toned. It was no wonder that he had engulfed you completely out on the pitch. 
How had I never noticed this before? You found yourself wondering. How had he managed to escape your list of potential suitors when he was so obviously perfect for you?
The thought struck you rather abruptly and while you would have liked to have sat with it for a minute, Alicia was standing and you knew it was time to head back to the common room. 
As students began to flood from the hall you fiddled with the sleeves of your robes, thoughts full of brown eyes and freckles . 
As if summoned, Fred appeared at your side grinning widely, “Hello.”
“Hey Fred,” replied Alicia. 
“Have you guys heard the news?” He asked, throwing an arm around your shoulder. You tried hard not to blush and instead shook your head, staring at the floor. “Apparently, you owe me your life.” He was beaming down at you now and you found it hard to look away. 
“Oh yeah?” You smirked, “And I heard it was actually you who hit me with that bludger.” 
His smile disappeared only momentarily and you were happy to see it recover so quickly. 
“Ah well, I figured Angelina wouldn’t keep her mouth shut.” He shrugged, “Though I swear if I had a choice I would have knocked her off her broom instead.” 
And for the first time that evening jealousy took you strongly, “Oh yeah? I suppose she would have been a bit more fun to catch then?” 
Fred looked startled by your bristly reaction, “Nah,” He responded, “That would have been Georgie’s job.” 
You were satisfied with this answer and felt yourself leaning against him as you began up towards the tower.
George was delighted to see you still tucked beneath his brother's arm when you reached the common room. He called you over to where he sat and you placed yourself in a large squishy armchair as Fred perched himself beside you on an ottoman. 
You spent your evening rather uneventfully, finishing an essay for Snape as the Gryffindors slowly filtered off to bed in pairs. When George rose to take himself to the dormitory you expected Fred to follow but instead he stayed rooted by your feet where he now sat cross legged on the carpet looking over what looked like an extensive order form. 
Hours later you yawned, stretching when you finally finished your work. It was now well past midnight and only a few fifth years remained, cramming for a quiz in transfiguration the next day. You turned to look at Fred who had long since sprawled himself across the couch before the fire and found him snoring softly. 
A jolt of infatuation made your stomach flip. His messy hair glowed shockingly bright in the fire light, his pink lips slightly agape. You gathered your things slowly, sure not to wake him before you stood beside him.
You knew you should wake him, you were the reason he had not retreated to bed after all. But he looked so peaceful like this, so soft. Instead you found yourself slowly counting the freckles that sprawled across his cheeks, leaning close to brush a strand of his bright red hair out of his face. He woke immediately at your touch, large brown eyes locking with your own.
You felt your cheeks go hot, “You should go up to bed.” You mumbled beginning to pull away. 
He snatched your wrist with such haste it took you by surprise, “Do that again.” he spoke.
You furrowed your brow, “What?” 
“With my hair,” It was his turn to blush now, “Touch my hair again.” 
It felt as though the air was sucked from your lungs yet you found yourself obeying, fingers coming to comb through the soft waves that spread across his forehead. 
He hummed, leaning into your touch slowly, gaze still locked with yours. The two of you stayed there for a moment, you kneeling beside him fingers in his hair, his hand still loosely wrapped around your wrist. 
“I’m sorry.” He murmured and you looked at him confused. 
“For what?” 
“Hitting you with a bludger.” he responded remorsefully. 
You laughed softly, your head thrown back, “It's okay Fred.” you grinned. You were close now, so close Fred could feel the tickle of your breath on his cheek, “I forgive you. You made up for it after all.” 
He smirked in spite of himself, “I suppose I did, saving your life and all.” 
You were giggling again and Fred was sure he was in some beautiful dream where all he could ever hear or see was your joy. 
“I wouldn’t push your luck if I were you.” You grinned, “I may just chuck the quaffle at your head when you're not looking.” 
“Only if you catch me when I fall.” Fred whispered, leaning closer still. 
You let him, your lips connecting slowly. You were pleased to find he was a fantastic kisser, his lips soft and plush, eager to please. His free hand cupped your cheek as he pulled you closer still until you were practically on top of him.
One of the alarm clocks the fifth years had been attempting to turn to roosters burst to life and you pulled away abruptly remembering bitterly that you and him were not the only ones in the room. Fred chased after your lips with his own desperate for even a moment more with your mouth.
“You should get to bed.” You repeated standing now, knees a bit shaky. 
Fred was disappointed by your departure but grinned wildly nonetheless as you gathered your books into your arms and turned back to him. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow Fred.” You yawned and began up the stairs to your dormitory determined not to let him see the childish glee that had spread across your face. 
“Wait!” He called after you, lurching from the couch and stopping at the bottom of the steps. 
You turned back to him taking in the wonderful sight of him staring lovingly up at you. He looked delightfully disheveled, his hair a mess and his lips swollen from your touch. You took two steps down now only one above where he stood on the hardwood floor.
You looked down at him expectantly as his eyes bore into your own. 
He lifted himself onto his toes and grabbed your shoulders forcinging you forward where you connected for a second time. 
This time his breath was hot and heavy on your lips, his earnest intensifying to a level that you could only describe as hunger. Your feet dangled momentarily in the air as he lifted you fervently into his embrace. You were suddenly engulfed in Fred again, he was all you could smell sweet and cinnamon, all you could hear were his pants in your ear, all you could feel was him, his arms around your middle, his thigh pressed between your legs and his lips and tongue working so well together that it was you who chased after him this time, whining in protest when he pulled back.
You stared at him, out of breath and stunned to silence. 
Fred looked as though he had just won something very expensive the way he was grinning with triumph, his eyes dark with lust. 
 “Sweet dreams love.” He murmured leaning down to give you one final kiss, his lips moving sickeningly slow against your own, wet and warm. He hovered inches form your lips for a moment, as if debating diving back in, before he backed away tucking his hands casually into his robes.
“You should go to bed, love.” He smirked, “We’ve got an early practice tomorrow and I do believe you made me a promise about knocking me off my broom.” 
You bit your lip to keep from breaking into girlish giggles. Your heart was still pounding as though you had just run a long race. 
“Only if you swear to catch me though.” He added with a wink.
“I’ll always catch you Freddie.” you assured him before turning and hurrying back up the stairs, grinning so wide your cheeks had begun to ache.
♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~
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