Tumgik
#but i now i struggle with swallowing water
donatellawritings · 12 hours
Text
୨୧ how sugardaddy!rafe found his favorite little muñeca
Tumblr media Tumblr media
rafe wasn’t entirely sure as to what it was that piqued his father’s need to go on vacation every few months out of the year, but he wasn’t against it. since returning back to tannyhill, following his brief collegiate stint, rafe needed an outlet — a place where he could go and blow a few tens of thousands of dollars and not be reprimanded, a place where he could lose himself in copious amounts of coke without judgement, a place where he could be the man — the one who was needed, the one who had all the answers.
so, when ward came up with the brilliant idea to send his eldest of kin to the island of culebra, puerto rico — just to keep his volatile son out of trouble … rafe was quick and eager to oblige.
the villa was immaculate, completely renovated from the ground up, with the pristine view of the clear turquoise waters that crashed against the powder white sand. but what caught rafe’s bright baby blues was the little puerto rican girl who stood bent over, tiny white shorts sucked in the soft fat of your plush ass as you carefully picked at the bright fuschia hibiscus flower that grew alone in the patch of crisp green grass. shiny blown out hair cascaded down the small of your back as rafe tongued the inside of his cheek, watching closely as you straightened your posture, the shorts now almost entirely swallowed by your plump ass.
rafe couldn’t help himself, but continue to ogle at you, his bloodshot eyes carelessly drinking in the way your bronze skin shimmered under the sun, as well as the cute hot pink heart-shaped glitter tattoo that sparkled on your lower back. and fuck, it took everything in him to not shove his hand down his pants with the way the fat of your ass sat all heavy and perfectly curved against the flimsy fabric of your shorts.
smiling to himself, rafe obnoxiously clears his throat, causing you to flinch and whip your pretty little head at him, all wide eyed and open-mouthed, “uh, don’t think y’should be pickin’ at other people’s flowers, huh?” he questions, his voice dripping in a condescending cadence as you immediately drop the pretty flower from your small fist, allowing it to fall at your sparkly pink toes.
remaining silent, you awkwardly shift on your feet, blinking your wispy lashes together as you close your mouth, “i’m sorry, i just — hmph,” you sigh, your nose scrunched in frustration as you struggled to find the right words … in english, at least.
cocking his head to the side, rafe chuckles at your fussy state, his stringy bangs masking the way he incessantly stared at the way the swells of your breasts bounced against your one size too small lily pink triangle bikini top. judging by your thick accent, rafe could tell that communicating with you would be a bit of a struggle — lucky for you, he considered himself to be a proactive man of sorts.
taking a step closer to you, rafe feigns a sigh of disappointment, even going so far as to pinch the bridge of his nose “i don’t know, i may just have to tell someone that y’just comin’ here and makin’ a mess of things — i can’t have that, sweetheart,” he shrugs.
your little heart thumped rapidly against your chest as you bit down into your pouty bottom lip, swallowing thickly as you brought your terrified gaze to the ground.
deciding to twist the knife, rafe nudged the point of your chin with the side of his signet-tinged index finger with squinted eyes, “y’parents never taught y’how to talk to people, huh?” he questions, his pupil-blown eyes searching yours as you parted your swollen lips.
furiously shaking your head, you take a short breath, “i-i dunno how — the words are h-hard,” you speak, your voice small and mousey as your eyes meet rafe’s intimidatingly blue ones.
“well, y’gotta learn, yeah?” rafe shrugs.
with bright and naive eyes, you let out an excited gasp, “you can teach me?” you question, swollen lips pursed together as rafe licks over his pink chapped lips, taking another step closer to you as his rough hand grasps the side of your face.
you were a naive little one, a bit too welcoming … but he could fix teach you.
bringing his thumb to curve around your jaw, rafe shushes you, “y’shouldn’t be walkin’ around stranger’s houses dressed like that — your daddy ever teach you that?” rafe lightly pushes your head back, a shit-eating grin now playing on his handsome face as you obediently answer him with a forceful shake of your head.
your bambi eyes now welled with embarrassed tears, you gently attempted to pull your face from the young man’s tight hold, “yo no tengo …” you whimper softly.
shifting your face, rafe raises a corrective brow at you, “english, kid,” he scolds.
poking out your fat bottom lip in a wobbly pout, you lightly stomp your foot in frustration, “i don’t have a daddy,” you whine, a warm teardrop rolling down the apple of your cheek as rafe tutted at you with a knowing nod to himself.
“that’s the problem, huh? y’don’t have a daddy to keep y’little ass in line,” rafe mumbles, bringing his thumb to mush against your swollen and somewhat sticky lips as you stare at him with confused, yet needy little eyes.
letting go of your jaw, rafe runs a hand through his greasy hair, before swiping at the corner of his mouth with his finger, “listen kid, m’gonna take care of you, yeah? buy you whatever girly shit y’like — maybe even take y’home with me one of these days —”
“like a daddy?”
letting out a huff, rafe takes in the way you reach down to grab ahold of the wilted flower, boobs nearly spilling out of your bikini tops as you fist it tightly in your grip, “yes, but i’ll be your daddy —”
“papi!” you beam, a wide smile stretching your swollen lips as you bat your cutesy stacked lashes together, “that’s your name?” you ask politely, reaching your small hands to tug on the waistband of your shorts, unknowingly pulling them further up your ass.
“rafe is my name, pretty girl — but y’can call me papi, okay?” he coos, swiftly snagging the flimsy flower from your hand, causing you to pout as you roll your eyes, leaving rafe to snap his fingers at you, “hey — don’t start that shit, now come here and let me fix y’up,” he commands, internally satisfied with the way you quickly removed the frown from your face and walked over to him, the tips of your toes meeting the tips of his sandals.
curling a ginger underneath the waistband of your shorts, rafe softly pulls on the stretchy fabric, taking a mental note of the frilly thing you wore underneath. placing the flower in your shorts, rafe carefully secures the band of your shorts to hold the flower upright, you dainty belly button ring also catching his watchful eyes.
craning your neck to get a look of your cute new accessory, you scoff with excitement, “aye, es muy bonita, papi!” you squeal, rushing to swing your arms around rafe’s tense and warm neck.
lightly patting the top of the curve of your asscheek, rafe gently pulls you away from him, “listen, kid — y’can’t just trust every person you meet, yeah? not everyone is going to be nice like your papi, hm?” he clasps his hands around your bare shoulders, biting back a smirk as you nod feverishly.
“tell me that you understand,” rafe pushes, silently encouraging you with a small squeeze of your shoulders.
“i und-understand,” you breathe out.
bringing a hand to barely pat your cheek, rafe reaches his free hand down to tug the hem of your shorts down to cover your ass, “good girl — now why don’t y’come with daddy and i’ll buy y’some pretty clothes,” rafe hums, massaging your cheek with his thumb.
328 notes · View notes
blunderpuff · 10 days
Text
i spent 7 hours in a car, having disgusting involuntary muscle spasms
and my mom spent 7 hours giving me suggestions on how to make it stop
1 note · View note
sho0tmcmahon · 10 months
Text
i keep. forgetting to breathe when im falling asleep i literally almost passed out 🙃
2 notes · View notes
sharkieboi · 22 days
Text
oh thank god finally found a safe food that isn’t applesauce
0 notes
analogboii · 3 months
Text
room 138 by asking alexandria hits different when you've actually almost died from ODing fjdkfdfvkkoz
0 notes
empresskylo · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
things simon ‘ghost’ riley would say in bed
⊹ simon 'ghost' riley x afab!reader
[ warnings ] NSFW. MDNI.
cod masterlist
Tumblr media
♡ that’s my good fuckin’ girl.
♡ you look s’pretty on your knees.
♡ shh, baby, i know you can take it.
♡ want me to fill you up, yeah?
♡ you’re so fuckin’ tight, princess.
♡ ah, ah, just lay back. i got you.
♡ this what you wanted? wanted my cock buried—fuck—deep inside you?
♡ hey, open your fuckin' eyes. look. at. me.
♡ fuck, baby, grab the headboard. shit—that's right, princess. hold on.
♡ i’m gonna fuck that sweet cunt of yours 'till you're beggin' me t'stop.
♡ been thinkin’ bout this all day, pet. fuckk—you are a goddamn dream.
♡ gonna fill you up good n’ proper.
♡ legs on my shoulders, pet.
♡ i want you to come. right now. i’m not gonna tell you again.
♡ on your fuckin’ knees, princess.
♡ i don't care if your legs are shaking. i'm not done.
♡ you belong to me. say it. tell me you're mine.
♡ is my pretty girl struggling to take my cock? hm? you can take it, baby.
♡ gonna milk me for every fuckin' drop, my greedy fuckin’ girl.
♡ fuckkk, these tits.
♡ you're gonna be the goddamn death o’me.
♡ open your mouth good n’ wide.
♡ is my sweet girl gonna come? gonna come on my cock, yeah?
♡ com’on baby, come on my tongue. i wanna taste ya.
♡ you’re gonna have t’beg for it.
♡ mmm, you can do better than that.
♡ want my fingers inside you? gotta use your words, princess.
♡ already fuckin’ soaked, pet. all f’me?
♡ buck your hips up into me. oh fuck—yeah, jus' like that.
♡ god, you taste so fuckin’ good, baby.
♡ you look so good taking my cock like this.
♡ you can take me deeper than that. i know you can.
♡ this what you wanted, hm? me bendin’ you over and havin’ my way with you?
♡ oh, my greedy girl. cant wait any longer, hm? gonna cry if i don't give it to ya?
♡ that’s right, princess. keep sucking on my—oh fuck—cock. keep goin’. fuck, you feel s’good.
♡ gonna spread those pretty thighs for me?
♡ fuck yeah, dig your nails into my back. harder. fuckkkin' hell.
♡ promise to be quiet?
♡ you like being fucked like this? like a fuckin' whore? hm? but only for me.
♡ swallow. now.
♡ com’ere, baby. come sit on my lap. wanna rub yourself against me?
♡ been waitin’ all day to bury my cock inside you.
♡ play with your clit f’me, princess. i wanna watch you come around your fingers.
♡ i want you t'look at me while i'm deep inside you. i want t'watch your eyes water while i fuck you senseless, yeah?
♡ you’re squeezin’ me so goddamn tight.
♡ this cunt is all fuckin' mine. you hear me, pet? all. mine.
♡ you look so pretty with tears all down your cheeks. that good, hm?
♡ fuckk, princess. bite harder. i can take it.
♡ ah, don't you dare hide from me, pet. open those fuckin' legs. com'on... that's a good girl.
♡ this pussy was fuckin' made f'me. fuckin' hell. you are so goddamn tight.
♡ com'on, princess. i wanna hear ya. don't go shy on me now.
♡ i want you t'come with me. hey, look at me. that's right, love. now—oh shit—come with me. fuckkk—come now.
♡ these sounds all for me, yeah? holy shittt—that's right. you're takin' my cock so well—jesus christ.
4K notes · View notes
bunny584 · 4 months
Text
OBSESSED: GETO
A/N: Suguru is a patient, kind, wonderful, completely out-of-his-mind-insane man. I just had to capture it on paper. (The Yuuta installment is up next, this one was just crawling out of me lol)
C/W: Voyeurism (the real Shibuya incident 🤭) Mature, 18+
Tumblr media
Suguru should stop.
He really should fucking stop.
You two are friends. Innocent. Platonic. The very best of friends.
And yet, here he is. Watching a live feed of you walking through your apartment door.
Keys to the left.
Heels kicked off to the right. You’ll come back to those later.
He drapes the bath towel around his neck. Catching the last few almond water droplets from his thick, near waist length hair. He’ll be at your place later; he wouldn’t forgive himself if he was the reason you caught a cold.
And capital punishment for anyone who rouses a single strand of hair on your head.
6:38 PM. A little late today. But it’s a Wednesday and there’s a farmers market in the town square. You always stop for chocolate croissants too late on Wednesdays. The vendor leaves before you’re out of work.
There are four of them on low heat in his oven right now.
Because Suguru now knows the vendor on a first name basis. He’s paid him well over asking price to have 4 chocolate croissants (made 2 batches later than what he sells during the day) be delivered to his place every Wednesday.
Because you’re his friend.
His best friend. And he can’t stand the thought of you going a second without anything you want in this lifetime.
Oh fucking hell.
Your (his) favorite blazer is off. As is the demure mint silk button up that it was covering. Both now wistfully draped over the corner of the kitchen island. He finds the way you throw your things around haphazardly so adorable.
But that doesn’t matter right now.
Like clockwork, Suguru’s left hand drags down his sweatpants, just enough to let his overgrown, painfully hard cock free. It bounces well past his belly button, like a fresh wire spring.
And with cinematic timing, you lean over your kitchen island. In nothing but your lacy bra and snug little pencil shirt. Mindlessly catching up on your social media.
The way your plush, pouty rose lips hang slightly open. And your fucking perfect tits spill over the top of your slightly undersized bra. The lazy S curve from your petite shoulders…tapered down to your waist…back out to the swell of your hips.
“Fuck,” a king cobra hiss escapes his lips.
You’re dizzying. Utterly fucking intoxicating.
Suguru’s chest rises and falls. The pace of his hand around his cock crescendos. Almost angrily.
How could you do this to him?
You’re his best friend for fucks sake.
Precum slicks from his thick, blunt tip. Squelching around his knuckles.
Your back arches into a mini crescent moon. And Suguru might as well have swallowed a blow torch.
“Nnnhhgh fuck, g-god…so…” Sharp drags of air mix with his poorly choked down moans.
His hand grips harder. Hips now rutting up off his desk chair. Hungry. Needy. Imprecise pumps into the slick ring of his fingers. Chasing another high he so desperately wishes you could personally give.
Because the way he feels right now?
The sheer malevolence in his mind. The depravity. You trust him completely and he can’t trust himself with you at all.
Beautiful, enchanting girl.
You reduce him to a perverted, bird brained slave to his desires.
You make him want to violate you. To fuck a cock-shaped hole through the back of your skirt to your cervix.
He wants to pick you up and bounce you along all 10 inches of his length and watch himself bludgeon through to your stomach.
He wants to pin you down and use your pretty little throat as his personal cocksleeve. And watch you garble and cry and drool around his invading length while you struggle for air. And listen to the melodic sounds of you gasping and muffled around his dick when he makes you apologize.
Apologize for being so goddamn irresistible. For bringing this depraved shell of a human being out of him.
Electricity runs the length of his manhood. His breaths are jagged, tendrils of wavey hair matted to his forehead.
The sound of your ringtone slices through the static in his brain. Tethering him back out of his criminal spiral.
“H-hey, pretty.” Suguru forces his baritone to level out. Hand still stroking his length.
Your wispy, girly giggle almost finishes him instantly.
“You’ve gotta stop with the pet names, Suguru! The trail of women in your wake hate me enough as it is.”
“Ha-I c-couldn’t care less.” Talking is harder than breathing for him.
You lean up from the counter and start twirling your hair in a way that makes him want to carve out another galaxy for you. Just for you. Anything for you.
“Movie night? I’ve been wanting to—“
“Yes.” Suguru is almost embarrassed at how quickly he cut you off. Like a fucking dog.
You laugh again and stroll to your refrigerator. He knows you’re lamenting the missed croissants. And he knows you know there’s a 99.99% chance he’s already gotten them for you. Because he is silly putty for you. He crumbles to stardust in your hands.
Because he’s your best friend.
“I got them.” Suguru rasps out. Hands moving so fast up his shaft, precum surging out his tip. He’s so close. So fucking—
“God I love you.”
And he snaps. Hot, thick ropes of his cum splay everywhere. Suguru draws metallic from his bottom lip, clenching down so hard not to give himself away.
You said it so innocently. So platonically. And it shifted his entire world on its axis.
His best fucking friend.
“Love you too, I’ll be there at 8.”
PART. II
3K notes · View notes
peachesofteal · 22 days
Text
ghoap x reader / 18+ mdni / dark themes
Tumblr media
It’s the sundress. 
The way it flows off your hips, your body moving beneath it, skin glowing just under the hem. You're lucent in it, radiant in a way he's never seen, brilliance so stunning it catches his breath. You’re a perfect peach, juicy and ripe, plump and sumptuous, skin so soft he’d only need a nip to tear into it, the barest bruise of pressure allowing him to drink his fill of precious honeyed nectar. 
There are dozens of people in the café, but he only sees you, can’t tear his gaze away, sick with the heavy tug in his heart, drawing him closer and closer, fingers tense around the flimsy paper cup. He stares, openly, even after Simon clears his throat, scuffs his foot against the sidewalk, says his name. 
Johnny has no patience for a kill, or a meal. He likes to rip into fresh things, soak his maw and stretch his jaw around them, swallow them whole if he can.
Swallow you whole, if he can.
A bead of sweat collects at the back of your neck, and he traces its path between your shoulder blades and below, mouth watering at the singular thought of a taste. 
His tongue licking down your spine to the cleft of your arse, soft, sweet skin parted for him, face crammed between your legs, panting, pushing, desperate for more, and more, and- 
“Johnny.”  
“Pretty thing.” He barely looks at his partner, the heat simmering in his stomach curling into a snare. “Little pocket a’ sunshine.” 
“Johnny.” 
“Ye see ‘er?” Simon’s eyes dig into him, and then you, following the seam of your dress from thigh to shoulder. There’s insatiable insanity in his face, and Johnny knows- 
He sees it too. 
“I do.” 
“Ye dinnae want a taste?” 
“Not enough time.” He nods next door, where the darkness looms, waits for them expectantly. A meeting, a negotiation, a riotous push and pull. The things he’s good at, the part of his job that doesn’t include intimidating or killing or orchestrating a disturbance. 
His hands sow choreographed chaos, but in this moment, he’d rather they do something else instead. 
Pin you down. Pry your thighs wide. Bury his face in your cunt. Would you struggle? Would you cry? Would you take it like a good girl, breathy and sweet, lips shocked into a perfect O for his thumb, pad of it pressed down on your tongue, taste- 
“Better think fast.” Simon warns, jolting him from the fantasy that has his cock swelling, and when he sees you heading for the door, dreamy smile on your face, iced latte precarious in your grip, a plan roars to life. 
It’s easy, to pretend it’s an accident. Easy to act shocked and embarrassed. Easy, to feel terrible about ruining your dress. 
Your gasp is music to his ears. 
“Oh my god-“ it’s almost too much, watching the crushing realization sink in across your features, the dismay at the sight of your newly acquired caffeine fix rushing down the front of your sunflower dotted dress. 
They’ll buy you a new one. They’ll buy you hundreds. 
“’m so sorry.” He croons, reaching to steady you, carefully gripping your elbow under the guise of balance. “Ah, bonnie. ‘m so sorry, I didnae see ye and I was rushin’.” 
“It’s… it’s okay.” You’re blinking too fast, trying to hold back tears, trying to keep yourself together. The patchwork, the glue and tape, parts and pieces easily crumble, even as you try to take a deep breath. “I’m… it’s fine.” 
“Yer dress is ruined.” Obviously. “Let me pay to get it cleaned, at least.” 
“No, no… that’s… it’s okay. I’ll… I’ll just run home, no big deal.” He beats back the burn, the wildfire scorching away the last of his sanity. 
“Please.” Simon chimes in over his shoulder. “It’s the least we can do.” You look between them, confused, eyes wide like a little doe, lost all alone in the deep, dark forest.
Flanked by wolves.
“Or let us give ye a ride to yer place, so ye can change.” He jerks his head to the sleek black sedan, idling at the corner, driver still behind the wheel. The meeting can wait, they've got more pressing issues to attend, now. 
“Oh… uh-“ He can smell the rot of your hesitance. That’s the thing about a doe, they’re naturally skittish, trembling legs uneasy from the day they were born, nervous about their own shadow. “It’s fine, I can walk. It’s not far.” 
“I feel terrible, let me pay for it.” He pours it thick, and as expected, the guilt about making him feel worse locks into place. “I dinnae what I’ll do if we cannae help. If ye give me yer number, we can arrange to cover the cleaners?” Simon looms closer, fingers folding over Johnny's shoulder in an affectionate gesture.
You almost look relieved at the sight.
Poor little doe. 
In the end, you agree. When you give them your name, he traces over each syllable tenderly, memorizing the way it sounds on your lips, as Simon taps a phone number into your contacts.
"Ye go straight home an' change." Johnny murmurs, holding onto your hand a shade too long after you pass him back his phone. "Dinnae want ye walkin' around in a dirty dress all afternoon." You fidget, waxing crescent on your lips, and nod.
"I'll uh... I'll let you know how much it is." There's a hint of a tremble in the back of your throat, off key and off kilter, and he smiles to reassure you, before the two of them turn to take their leave.
"We'll talk to ye soon."
1K notes · View notes
Text
Never Mix Business With Pleasure - LN
A request from @luvrrish
Summary: After a disappointing one night stand, y/n finds her new boss is the man behind the disappointment. She'd spared him the knowledge till a staff night leads to an indirect admission that she's faked an orgasm. Out of some pride, Lando has to know if she did with him.
Themes: Smut (eventually), nipple piercing (is back bby)
No part 2 requests please
Tumblr media
Y/n had known she'd recognised Lando, but a couple drinks deep into the night. She really couldn't think straight other than the man was surely worth having between her legs.
Turns out she only wanted him between her legs till he got there.
Not that he was...bad. But more accurately...selfish.
Admittedly, she snuck out of there as soon as he was snoring beside her. Not entirely her brightest of ideas. But she really felt no appeal of sticking around for an awkward morning after.
What she didn't expect was a week later for her to find him at the head of the table leading a meeting at her new job.
Now y/n is an adult she can have a one night stand and it not be awkward. Especially since she's almost certain that he has no idea she faked it.
"Y/n, can we just have a chat?" Lando asks when Max calls the meeting to an end, though Lando's best friend looks at him suspiciously since usually Lando doesn't bother to invest his time in new employees.
"Uh-Yes, yes. Of course." Y/n confirms before the rest of the room leaves and closes the door.
"I just wanted to make sure that you're...not uncomfortable working here-"
"Mr Norris, you're my boss and our one night stand happened before my official employment start date. I am more than capable of maintaining a professional relationship with you as I'm sure you are with me. It's only the two of us who know and we're adults, I'm sure that we can get over having seen each other naked." Y/n smiles trying to maintain as cool and unbothered an attitude as possible while keeping herself professional.
"Yeah right, I just...wanted to make sure you were comfortable. And everyone here kind of builds a friendship so just call me Lando. Mr Norris is...professional but too professional for me."
"Right, Lando. Anyway, I know you need to get off. So I'll not keep you."
-
Y/n did make friends with everyone at Quadrant. She also really found this to be the best job she's ever had.
Thankfully, Lando has such a busy schedule beyond Quadrant. He's not there nearly as often as she had originally anticipated and when he is, neither of them struggle.
Although it has only been 2 weeks.
"I bet y/n has some secrets. We can get out of her." Ria comments when the game of never have I ever is thrown out as part of the gathering.
It was meant to be for staff, but there was definitely a few plus ones who had beefed the group up and quite a few that y/n didn't know.
"Secrets? I'm an open book." Y/n laughs while swallowing back a mouthful of water since she's determined to not end the night anything more than tipsy.
They each go about saying a never have I ever, some of them going for boring safe options and some of them going for the spicier variety.
"Alright, this one is for the ladies...and maybe the men. Never had I ever faked an orgasm." Max states seeming to watch his own girlfriend who takes a small sip making the room burst into laughter.
"It wasn't with you." She assures him with a pitiful pat that seems to be more of a "I'm trying to save you while also being honest in front of your friends".
Y/n and Ria actually cheers as they also take a mouthful of their drinks.
Y/n really didn't think to check if Lando was watching her, it hadn't struck her that he might be or that he might even care. After all he certainly didn't in the moment. So the idea he would now never crossed her mind.
The game goes on before people eventually get bored or too drunk to focus.
Y/n ends up deciding to be one of the first to leave, though it's not as if she's leaving early. It's near enough 1 in the morning.
"I was going to leave too. I'll give you a ride." Lando states catching up to her as she pulls on her jacket at the doorway, the suggestion of him driving her making her frown. "I haven't been drinking-well one drink, but nothing strong."
"I don't know if we're going in the same direction. I could walk to my place from here." Y/n murmurs since there's something about Lando's expression that makes her feel like there's a reason he rushed to leave early. "It's only about a 15 minute walk really."
"Well it'll be even quicker and warmer in my car." Lando smiles making her look at him for a moment before she nods.
"Yeah, you're right." Y/n nods before following him out.
He's got one of his expensive ass sports cars that she could maybe afford if she spent the rest of her life not spending a penny on anything, not even food, and then worked till she was 150. Then she might be able to afford a second had version.
"You look annoyed." Lando comments making her furrowed brows quickly raise themselves while he adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. "Actually I wanted to ask you something."
"Oh ok." Y/n nods feeling herself get a little nervous.
Lando might not be as involved in the day to day workings of Quadrant as she'd thought when she realised he is her boss. But he is still her boss, if he decides she's not performing well enough then he is well within his rights to fire her.
Fuck.
"Back when we were playing that game, you drank when Max asked if anyone had faked an orgasm." Lando states keeping his eyes trained perfectly on the road.
"Yeah." Y/n confirms suddenly gritting her teeth at the feeling of where this conversation is going to go. "I mean I think all women have."
"Yeah, yeah. I know. I just...did you with me?"
How fast is he going? To fast for her to open the door for a jump, tuck and roll manoeuvre?
This is not a conversation she wants to have with any man, much less a man who turned out to be her boss. But something tells her she won't believe her if she lies.
"Yeah, I did." Y/n admits watching his knuckles turn white from his grip on the steering wheel. "It's-Well I was a bit drunk, it's harder for me when I've had a drink."
Not entirely a lie, but also not exactly the truth. She tends to last a bit longer while drunk but it doesn't stop her from getting there.
"You don't have to lie to save my feelings." Lando states making her sigh. "I could make it up to you."
"Lando, that's really not necessary." Y/n tries since she isn't looking to make a man insecure. "It's not as if every woman ever has faked with you. It's just...sometimes it's easier."
"But I'd like to make it up to you." Lando stresses making her sigh again. "It doesn't have to be tonight...what if...I took you on a date?" Lando tries making her almost jerk her head back in reaction.
"You want to take me on a date?"
"I mean I would be up for it tonight, but I feel like it might be awkward now." Lando murmurs earning a small smile.
"That's true...Well you have my number, you can call me with plans and I definitely won't turn you away." Y/n states softly making Lando finally manage a small smile.
Y/n directs him to her apartment before she does give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek goodbye.
-
There was a few date ideas that y/n had. Lando flying her out to join him on one of the race weekends was really not on the list.
"This is insane." Y/n murmurs to herself as Lando walks in behind her.
He'd made sure she flew with him on the jet and pulled out all the stops for her in addition to that. She's never felt so well off in her life.
"You alright?" Lando asks making her turn and look at him for a moment.
"Yeah, just...it's the nicest hotel I've ever been in." Y/n laughs lightly before feeling his hand on the small on her back. "I feel like I'm underdressed just for a lobby."
"You're fine." Lando assures her with a small laugh before he moves them to the reception desk and checks them in then starting to guide her to the lift as he sorts through the keys. "I got them to give us a suite with an adjoining room. Just so you got your own space."
"So am I here to call you my boss or just...a one night stand redemption?" Y/n asks trying to ease her own tension.
"Neither of those sound great." Lando hums as the lift appears and they step in. "Just call me your...date."
"My date." Y/n echoes then smiling at him in slightly approval.
-
Lando really doesn't want to rush y/n into having sex, even if he's determined to show that he's not some inexperienced idiot who has no concept of the female body.
Admittedly, he didn't put his all into the first time they had sex. But the idea of her faking an orgasm just made him feel sick to his stomach for some reason.
He took her to play golf, then out for a meal and they were nearing the end of being able to stretch out the meal any longer.
"We should probably go. You've been looking at me like I'm the next course for a while now." Y/n comments trying to hide her smile.
Lando decides not to comment since maybe his thoughts have been slightly more x-rated selection. Though he genuinely thinks he can't be blamed, y/n dressed to impress and she achieved that and more. But he's not about to make this about him at all.
He manages to get the check and pay for everything before they head out.
"I've never been so lavished before sex. This must be what sugar babies feel like." Y/n jokes before clearing her throat when she realises that might not be a joke he's very happy to be a part of.
"I hope it doesn't actually feel like that." Lando laughs lightly as the valet appears with his car.
"No." Y/n confirms with a soft smile as the second valet opens the door for her and they both climb in. "Now I just have to trust that I am getting an orgasm tonight."
"You think I'm stopping at one? That's bold." Lando comments making her pause for a moment.
"How many are you stopping at?" Y/n chokes out not expecting it to have had to be a question between them.
"You'll just have to wait and find out." Lando shrugs innocently but the smirk speaks for itself and actually, whether it's the intended affect or not, she's not sure but it sort of turns her on.
When they get to the hotel, Lando again hands his car over to the valet before quickly moving around and dismissing the valet about to help y/n out of the depth.
"Thank you." She smiles as he quickly leads her inside.
Admittedly the anticipation that should be making this all so awkward is actually just making her more eager. His promise of multiple orgasms definitely makes her feel a little more eager to get to the hotel suite.
It's either going to live up to his promise, fall short or make her figure out a way to really sell her fake orgasm as believable and never tell him that actually it was yet another disappointment.
"You look like you're thinking pretty hard." Lando comments as they step into the lift.
"Yeah, I'm just thinking...what your plan might be." Y/n murmurs earning a small smirk. "I hope you're not about to get performance anxiety."
"No. Definitely not." Lando chuckles, somewhat hating that his hotel room is so high up meaning the lift is taking slightly longer to get them to their floor.
Lando's hand links to her own as they near their floor and just as they step out he manages to gently tug her into a kiss, his hands landing on her waist as they kiss and y/n steps backwards, trusting his guidance.
The room isn't far from the lift so when he breaks the kiss, it's not a long distance later that she finds herself gently pushed into the room in a brief pause.
Lando kicks the door closed and proves that actually when he wants to try, he certainly can seduce a woman with just touch. The touch that's specifically working, is his ability to slide the slinky slip dress off of y/n's body.
The silky material slides down off of her body with ease and she's left with no bra and admittedly some strings worth of underwear. She also steps out her heels as Lando lifts her up to wrap her legs around his waist.
There's definitely a bit of a power play with Lando still fully dressed while she's literally one flimsy and quickly dampening piece of material away from completely naked and exposed to him.
She's placed down on the bed with Lando's lips kissing down her body.
"I definitely did not appreciate your body enough last time." Lando comments, lips brushing her skin as he pauses the kisses moving down her body.
Y/n actually arches up against the soft feeling of his lips before he lifts up and removes his jacket that he's been wearing just for some more movability.
"You know I've tried to keep professional..." Lando admits moving his hand up to her boob, thumb gently rubbing over her piercing making her teeth nibble on her lip. "...but every time I saw you, I kept thinking of this shiny little piece of metal."
"Well, it's fully healed and free use to play with." Y/n smiles shifting to try and stop arching up into his back like she'd doing instinctually.
Lando smirks at her comment before he finally reaches down to the so far neglected area that he's most eager to get access to. He presses his fingers onto her slit through the wet material then having to use his free hand to keep her thighs from closing on him.
"Don't tease." Y/n murmurs impatiently while Lando just remains quiet pushing the fabric aside and testing her wetness before pushing a finger into her and pressing his thumb onto her clit which even to her own admission, she wasn't really expecting him to find or touch with such precision.
He wastes no time pushing a second finger in when he leans forward choosing to pay attention to her nipples too, the feel of a piece of metal between his lips is sort of unfamiliar but the reaction from y/n is a quick pay off, already twitching around his fingers. Feeling the beginnings of her build up towards an orgasm.
His hand is soaked already from her and he's suddenly realising the moans she's producing sound significantly less controlled and more genuine than what he recalls of their previous hook up.
When he finally locates her g-spot that's when things really change, he can feel her body started to tense from underneath him.
Y/n whines a little, feeling the build up starting to near the peak. Lando does let up on her nipples either his mouth on the pierced one and his free hand on the unpierced one. When she completely tenses, arching a little up against him. the moan that escapes her lips and the feeling of her thighs locking to squeeze either side of him might just be better than the feeling of his own orgasm.
She's clamped down on his fingers with a tightness that he's already going to dream about for a long time.
"Fuck." Y/n whimpers when she finally relaxes and melts down onto the bed. "Fuck, Lando."
"That's just the beginning, I told you more than one." Lando chuckles then shifting up to kiss her. "But it's good to know what a real orgasm sounds like from you."
Y/n almost wants to be insulted that her fake orgasm apparently isn't anything like the real thing. But maybe she shouldn't really be insulted by it.
"I've never have multiple orgasms before."
"Happy to be the first to make it happen." Lando smirks then gently blowing on her nipple as he goes back down her body. "Part of my redemption."
Y/n breathes a little, her body shuddering when he gets low enough to see her pussy still pulsing from her first orgasm. She's not even sure what it feels like for someone to give her head after she's already had an orgasm.
"This is going to sound stupid, but I didn't know it was possibly for every part of a person to look so pretty." Lando comments and she's about to say something, only for him to latch his hands onto the top of her thighs before he dives in-between them and licks her up and down. His nose managing to nudge her clit that was still entirely oversensitive at the feeling of pressure on it.
"Jesus christ." Y/n breathes, mainly to herself at the feeling of Lando treating her exactly like she'd joked earlier in that she's the final course of his meal.
Actually it feels like she's completely devoured by the man, she's not sure if the build up is just as quick, slower or faster but she can feel it already and her jaw drops open a little.
"Lando." Y/n whimpers, not being able to stop herself from threading her hand into his hair.
There's something that sort of dawns on Lando as he doesn't let up, he's never cared all that much about a woman's side of the pleasure. Sure it's a great addition and he enjoys giving head, but with y/n there's something much more satisfying.
Maybe it's a point to prove, or maybe it's how good his name sounds being moaned by her.
Her voice wobbles in another moan before she feels her orgasm hit her much harder, and with less of a build up. It hits her, catching her off guard but she's not so sure Lando was as surprised about it. Not that he lets up, hell he seems to extend the length of her orgasm from just keeping going and if her brain didn't feel slightly fuzzy then she might question if he'd even noticed she was hit with the waves of more ecstasy.
She hardly has a moment to catch her breath before he's shifted, finally getting himself undressed as he can't wait any longer to get inside her.
"You ok?" He asks climbing back over her making her nod quickly, seemingly desperate but wordless as she tries to pull him closer.
Really y/n is torn between the temptation of a third orgasm and the fear of what it will actually feel like.
When he pushes into her, she reminds her voice enough to moan while he drops his head into her neck trying to keep himself from caving into the urge to really let every ounce of his energy go into her. Not straight away at least.
"Move, move. Please." Y/n whines making him hum before she whines at him then being silenced when he kisses her and begins thrusting in and out of her.
The angle must be working because he knocks her g-spot consistently and she's scrambling for grip, unable to choose between the sheets and latching onto Lando. It's not really any time before her third orgasm hits as she actually cries out holding on tightly to him.
"Oh I'm not done yet, gorgeous." Lando chuckles, though he certainly was close. He managed to hold out. For some reason he just wants to aim for four.
It's his number after all.
Y/n whines trying to latch onto him tightly before holding onto him as he keeps going, but he manages to wiggle free only just so he can roll them over and sit her up to straddle him. He's not getting lazy, he just needs better access if he's going to get the fourth.
After a few thrusts with his hand reaching down to gently press on her clit, it seems to strike her like electricity and she tightens around him so much that he almost feels pain, but he stops fighting his own finish and groans pumping into her with no thought other than he is definitely doing this again if she'll let him.
Y/n falls forward against Lando, breathless and whimpering with every exhale.
"Fuck. Fucking hell, you were holding back on me that much?" Y/n whispers, not quite having found her voice properly.
"Sorry, I promise to never let it happen again." Lando laughs while she hides her face in his neck as he gently strokes her sides. "Take all the recovery time you need."
"I will. Trust me." Y/n groans trying not to think about the sheer amount of sweat and other fluids they're both coated in.
After a while Lando does manage to move her to lie beside him, purely because he wants to at least clean them up a little and get y/n some water.
"Thank you." Y/n mumbles as he wipes her with a damp cloth.
"You really don't need to thank me." Lando sighs shaking his head at her while she smiles lazily. "But if you want to thank me. Another date and significantly more sex like that would be something I'd accept."
"I think I might be able to muster that up." Y/n nods, biting her lip a little as she tries to hide a grin. "Especially when this is the treatment I get afterwards."
"Yeah?" Lando laughs lightly before looking around for the room service menu.
"Yeah." Y/n nods then smiling when he hands her the menu. "Is this for sustenance?"
"I'm a caring man. You need to reenergise." Lando grins then rubbing her tummy.
"So what do I call you now? Just so when I talk to being railed, they know the status." Y/n smiles earning an eye roll. "Just my date?"
"I fucking hope not." Lando grumbles then looking at her for a moment. "Boyfriend, if you're ok with that."
"I think I'm definitely ok with that." Y/n confirms before she let's out a heavy sigh and relaxes down into the soft bed then remembering the amount of fluids on it. "Oh god, we're sleeping in my bed tonight. These sheets are so dirty now."
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03 @harrysdimple05
2K notes · View notes
lovebugism · 2 months
Note
eddie x shy!reader who has never been kissed before? 🥺
hope u like it :D — you ask eddie why he didn't kiss you last night (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1k)
The night after Steve’s big house party, you wake up on the floor of Eddie’s room. He’d wanted you to take the bed, of course, but you refused to let him sleep alone. The two of you ended up sleeping right next to the mattress, as lovesick as you are stubborn.
His body is warm next to yours — a furnace that warms the quilt under your body and the comforter thrown over you. He’s lying on his stomach with his face shoved into the pillow. Hair wild and mouth open and so, so far away. You feel the distance like a heavy weight on your chest.
Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat when he rouses. His eyes flutter open, and you squeeze yours shut tight. You pretend to be asleep while he stretches his tired limbs. ���I know you’re awake, you loon,” he teases through a yawn.
You smile despite yourself, peeking one eye open to find him already looking at you. His curly bangs are frizzed over his forehead. His chocolate button gaze is softly swollen with slumber. He’s sleep-drenched and utterly beautiful.
“No, I’m not,” you insist.
“Oh, yeah?” he huffs and turns onto his side, shifting closer to you. He sighs in contentment when his warm feet entwine with your colder ones. “Sorry, then. Don’t let me disturb your beauty rest, doll.”
He struggles to hold his eyes open, and your tired smile widens. Your hands tremble with the longing to reach for him — to smooth back the curls sticking to his jaw and to cradle his cheek in your palm — but you don’t let yourself. You cage them under your head and crumble beneath the weight of your yearning.
“Do you feel okay?” you ask.
“Yeah,” he answers, slurring slightly as he wakes. “I didn’t drink much ‘cause I knew I had to drive us home.”
He’d partied for an hour or more, soaking in the sunlight of everyone’s drunken attention. You were content just watching him. One painfully awkward exchange on the dancefloor later — involving an almost kiss that ended up as a friendly peck on your cheek — Eddie started to sober up. He scarfed down water and bread and tried to keep a tipsy Robin Buckley from getting into trouble.
“Do you feel okay?” Eddie wonders upon your silence.
“Mhmm.”
“Then what’s this look for, huh?” His hand rises from beneath the blanket and migrates to your face. He runs a gentle finger over the distant frown between your furrowed brows you didn’t realize was there.
“‘Cause you made me sleep on the floor all night,” you tease in a hushed tone.
He scoffs. “I wanted you to take the bed.”
“And Iwanted you to sleep in the bed with me.”
Eddie’s quiet laugh fills the dim bedroom. His crooked smile is quieter. “I just didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable, babe,” he confesses.
“Well, it wouldn’t’ve,” you murmur, gaze averted and half-shut. You busy your fidgeting hand with a rogue thread on the pillow beneath you. You wrap it around your pointer finger until the tip of it blooms a deeper shade.
“Good to know,” he smiles.
“Is that why…” The words get caught in your throat, and you trail off. You don’t bother to finish your sentence. You were barely brave enough to start it, anyway.
“Is that why what?”
You shake your head against the pillow. “Nothing.”
“No, c’mon,” Eddie croons, shifting again until his head’s on the very edge of his pillow, closer now to yours. He flashes you a soft, well-meaning smile. “Finish what you were gonna say…” he lilts quietly.
You swallow hard. “Is that why you didn’t wanna kiss me last night?”
Eddie’s breath catches for a moment. He exhales a forced laugh and musters a wavering smile. “You caught that, huh?”
“Kinda.”
“Sorry…” He doesn’t know what else to say — how to say that he’s head over heels in love with you and that he’s just a total dumbass. It’s somehow easier to apologize for being both.
“It’s no big deal,” you shrug, even though the thought has plagued your mind for nearly twelve hours now. “I just— I wasn’t sure if you, like, never wanted to kiss me ever, you know?”
“I wanna kiss you all the time,” he blurts with a scoffed laugh.
Your brows pinch. Your sheepish eyes flit between both his cinnamon ones. “Then why don’t you?”
“‘Cause I want you to feel comfortable around me,” he shrugs. “And I don’t wanna make you— you know— feel like I only want you around to be all over you all the time.”
You’re made of something softer than that, Eddie figures. You were delicate, like flower petals and early spring. He wants to treat you just as gently. He loves you so hard he’s scared he’ll break you.
“Well, sometimes I want you to be all over me,” you admit in a faint murmur, eyes sparkling and lips quirking.
Eddie grins wide. You have no idea that you’ve just unleashed a pandora’s box of his affection. Now that he’s got your permission to touch you, he’s not sure if he’ll ever stop.
“Noted,” he nods, shifting somehow closer until you’re sharing the same pillow. “What about now then, huh? Want me to be all over you— morning breath and all?”
You peer at him with doe eyes, firm and unblinking. “Want you all the time, Eds.”
“Good.”
He kisses you then, a gentle peck you didn’t know someone as brash as him was capable of. His plush lips press gently against yours, in a fleeting moment you grieve the second he pulls away. 
When he leans softly back to make sure you’re okay — to be certain that you still want more of him — you beat him to the punch. You chase him as he goes, caging his mouth in a deeper kiss that tastes only faintly of sleep. Your exhaled sighs fan together. Your lips click gently when you pull away.
“Woah,” you hear Eddie mumble.
It takes you a moment or more to open your eyes. You don’t realize how utterly dizzy you are until then. “Was that bad?” you murmur, face scrunched with misplaced panic.
Eddie shakes his wild head until the words catch up to him. “No. No, I just… I can’t believe we haven’t been doing this the whole time,” he confesses with a boyish laugh.
Your giggling entwines with his — innocent and pure and golden. He’s kissing the breath from your lungs a second later, with all the intensity of someone making up for lost time.
2K notes · View notes
stargirlo · 2 months
Text
zip your lips. rafe c. x fem!reader
Tumblr media
rafe fingering you silently while you watch a movie with him and the rest of his family . . . :>
you comfortably laying your back down against his chest as your cute bum rests on his crotch, his calloused hand parting your thighs wider before he casually slips a finger under your cotton panties, having a feel of your velvety walls fluttering around his thick digit. you swallowed a gasp or any sort of noise that dared to spill from your lips, his finger slowly and teasingly pumping in and out of your already soaked pussy before nuzzling his fingers knuckles deep into your pussy.
the movie continued to play on the screen, the crunchy sounds of popcorns being eaten up was heard around the room, covering the squelching noises that erupted under the thick blanket from you and rafe.
" 'm feeling a bit thirsty, does anyone want anything to drink?" and that's when sarah got up.
fucking hell.
you tried to stay calm and collected, but not when rafe was abusing your sopping cunt with just his fingers, the pad of his fingertips brushing against your sweet spot, making you writhe against him.
"y/n, do you need anything? coke? water? juice?" sarah asked, oblivious by the fact that you're getting finger fucked by her brother right now. a roll of sweat dampens your forehead, struggling to even speak properly. you squeezed and clawed at rafe's forearm, implying him to stop what he's doing and to finally let you speak. but he wasn't stopping, and he wasn't planning on stopping.
"y/n?" sarah called out again, but her tone in voice shifted to concern, wondering why you aren't answering properly. you cleared your throat all of a sudden, turning your head to meet sarah's gaze, a dopey smile curling up at your lips. "s-sorry, i uh- don't need anything... i'm- i'm good, t-thank you..." and just at that moment, rafe decided to slip another finger in, causing you to stammer at your sentence and sounding completely stupid at the moment.
the blond softly hummed, receiving a simple nod from her as she headed out to the kitchen to get herself her own beverage. a string of whispered curses leave your lips, closing your eyes tightly shut, manicured nails digging deep crescent shapes on his tanned skin that could probably leave marks, and frustratingly moving around his lap as a way to just ease the overwhelming pleasure that coursed in your veins.
"fuck you- fuck you rafe, ohmygod, stop stop stop stop." you whimpered quietly at him, raising your chin up and arching your back upwards. "shh, you're missing the best part of the movie." rafe murmurs against your ear, knowing damn well he isn't paying attention to the movie himself. a parting grin curl up at his lips, deciding to bring you to the edge and making you cum right on the spot by curling his fingers on your pussy.
a short shriek elicits from your glossy lips, body jolting that a faint little squeak from the couch was heard, gaining a bit of attention from ward. "is everything okay there?" his slightly gruff voice echoed around the living room area, eyebrows knitting together in suspicion. "e-everything is fine sir i jus'-" you were cut off when rafe suddenly spoke. "she just got a cramp on her leg from stretching, should be good in a few minutes." he spoke casually, his thick digits still buried inside your cunt as your slimy juices drip down to your ass, some of it landing on the plush couch cushions.
ward didn't think much of it, so he bought back his attention to the scene of the movie. not until a few minutes later, wheezie then exclaimed. "something smells in here and it's definitely not popcorn."
shut uppppppppppppppp!!!!!!!!!
2K notes · View notes
poebot · 4 months
Text
good for me. | sub!ellie williams
Tumblr media
tags: sub!ellie, dom!reader, cunilingus (e!recieving), over stimulation, nipple sucking, praise
a/n: dude i saw a pic (first one) of ellie that filled my mind with brainrot about nipple sucking like all i could think about was rolling her pretty tits under my tongue and agsjej- anyways. we need more sub!ellie in this damn community.
Tumblr media
you had her pinned down by the wrists against your pristine white sheets, straddling her hips and watching intently as her chest rises and falls with each shaky intake of air. her long fingers flex and squirm beneath your grasp as she starts to turn pink under your intense gaze, heat swarming in her lower stomach. she worries her bottom lip with her teeth making you tsk unapprovingly. a gentle hand reaches down to caress her warm cheek before you grasp more firmly at her jaw, your thumb swiping her pouty lip out of her mouth. its flushed and wet with saliva and the soft gasp ellie lets out from the subtle dominance of your actions has you leaking into your underwear.
“look at you. my pretty girl. being so good for me.." you lean forward to whisper into her ear. your tits press into hers as you place lingering open mouthed kisses against the sensitive flesh of her neck right below the sharp angle of her jaw. she squeezes her eyes shut and her mouth hangs open slightly. shes panting out sharp little breaths of anticipation. “nngh- please touch me..need you so bad." ellie sighs out the words like they're a secret, and a vicious smile spreads across your face at her little confession. she was enjoying this. enjoying being toyed with, completely at your mercy. the contrast was striking; like night and day. all the snark was gone from her voice. you wanted nothing more than to satisfy her wish and reward her obedience, but not before making her truly desperate for it.
“where do you need me, els?” your voice is sultry and low, almost unrecognisable to yourself. the innate power of having her in this vulnerable position enflames something in you, makes you slippery between the thighs. you want to make her work for it. to beg you to let her cum. you barely register the way your own hips begin to rock slightly against the front of her jeans. ellie gasps, bucking up into you. the subtle friction of your heat against hers makes her needy and anxious to feel you. she struggles slightly against your restraint, yearning to hold your hips. to grip your flesh in her hands and grind you down onto her, to coach you both to a release. “fuck- please baby, i’ve been so good. i can make you feel good, just lemme-” she’s babbling now, groaning as you increase the speed of your grinding.
“hey.” your tone is sharp and authoritative as you grab her by the chin again, diverting her attention. she’s instantly silent, staring up at you with eager eyes and furrowed brows. it almost breaks you. “relax. lemme take care of you.” your smile is sickly sweet as you lean down to connect your lips with hers in a chaste kiss that has her chasing your mouth when you depart. you finally release her wrists with a curt “stay.” that makes ellie swallow a whimper. but she’s such a good girl, staying perfectly still for you, watching as your hands slowly inch her tank top up to expose her perky breasts. your mouth waters at the sight of her soft pink nipples and you’re quick to latch onto one with a groan whilst palming the other.
ellie’s breathing increases rapidly as she watches you flick her nipple up and down with your tongue until it pebbles in your mouth. your lips are gentle, sucking the flesh softly and overwhelming her senses with the feeling of warmth. “uhhn- feels s’good baby, ffuck” ellie hiccups out, moving her hand to lace through your hair. you pop off of her nipple and blow cool air onto the flesh just to make her shiver, giggling cruelly at how cute she looks. her hair is a mess and her body shines with a sheer layer of sweat, a pretty flush spreading from her face down to her neck. she looks utterly fucked out and you haven't even ventured between her thighs yet.
you make quick work of unbuttoning her jeans, sliding them down to reveal her freckled legs. her boxer briefs are slick with her arousal making them almost sheer. the pretty outline of her pussy is on full display. you sigh contently, reaching under her knees to hike her legs up and spread them. “you’re adorable, you know that?” your voice is breathy as you take in the erotic sight below you, reaching a finger down to swipe through her wet folds over her underwear. “so wet.” ellie instinctively bucks into your touch, whining. “sh-shut up n’ fuck me already”
on a different day, you’d be crueler. punish her for speaking out of line by denying her your touch. but you’re just as desperate for her, and all you can offer is a non-committal “say please” which shes quick to relinquish before your diving forward to swipe your tongue up her pussy, desperate for a taste. “fuck!” ellie yelps out, her head thrown back against the sheets. she tastes tangy and sweet and you moan deeply before sucking her slick through the thin fabric.
“lets get these off of you, yeah?” you pant before shoving her wrecked briefs down the plush of her thighs. sticky webs of her arousal cling onto the fabric, and fuck she looks so pretty like this, all wet and pliant for you. her hole pulses around nothing and you’re quick to shove your face back in, sucking her puffy clit into your mouth. ellie’s hands fly, grabbing chunks of your hair in a fist as she humps mindlessly against your tongue. so greatful to finally feel some sense of relief. she’s letting out whiney cries of your name, practically fucking your face. her free hand grasps the sheets when your tongue prods into her entrance, gathering her precum onto your tongue.
“holy f-fuck baby ‘m gonna cum- fuckfuckfu” you’ve never seen her this needy, so close to release this soon; her voice is high and she can barely form full sentences as you feel her pussy pulse and her strong thighs trap you, warm liquid spilling into your eager mouth. you continue to eat her out through her high until shes tearing up and pushing you away, completely over stimulated.
“hh- shit…” shes huffing out, collapsed onto the bed with her arm covering her eyes. you crawl up ellie’s body to kiss her softly, the lingering taste of her cum still fresh on your tongue. a warm hand reaches down to massage the tense muscles of her thighs and you hold her face with the other, staring at her hazy expression. “you okay?” you whisper to her, pecking the tip of her nose lovingly. ellie smiles warmly, basking in the after glow of her orgasm, her eyes closed. “more than okay. fucking amazing.”
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
tkbrokkoli · 1 year
Text
it’s horrible monday monday  😜
0 notes
phoward89 · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Banner by me. Dividers by @saradika
Summary: You're the winner of the First Quarter Quell and you awaken in the hospital to Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow at your bedside.
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Possessive!Coriolanus, Obsessive!Coriolanus, DelusionalCoriolanus, Dark!Coriolanus, Soft Dark!Coriolanus?, Head Gamemaker!Coriolanus, Mentions of death, Mentions of planning murder, Mentions of cheating/infidelity (not on reader), Mentions of poison, Large age gap/difference (Coriolanus is 33 while reader is 18), Manipulation, um...trying to think of anything else.
Story Masterlist
Tumblr media
Chapter 1:
When the Head Gamemaker’s baritone blared out overhead, naming you the victor of the First Quarter Quell, you literally collapsed into a heap on the blood soaked ground from a mix of exhaustion and happiness. Your eyelids drooped and the last thing you saw before you passed out was a pair of peacekeepers coming towards you.
When you woke up, you were in a sterile white room. A hospital room. You had drips and IVs connected to you along with some monitor that made beeping noises. Blinking to readjust your eyes to the brightness of the artificial light, you surveyed the room only to notice that sitting in a chair right next to your bed was none other then the head gamemaker himself. Coriolanus Snow.
“What are you doing here, Head Gamemaker Snow?” You curiously asked. Surely he had better things to do then be at your bedside. Like being home with his wife. Oh and you knew he was married because 1.) He was wearing a gold band on his ring finger and 2.) You've seen a dirty blonde woman his age on his arm in a few pictures of Victor's balls and such in the cheap Capitol rag mags that get circulated around District 12 to be used as tp by the poor and destitute. 
Staring you down with his icy blue eyes, he said, “I'm making sure that District 12’s first victor in 15 years survives.”
His words made a shiver run up your spine. It was common knowledge that District 12’s first and only victor (until now) had mysteriously vanished into thin air a few months after winning her games and returning home. Nobody dared talk about her. Her name was lost to the wind; she was a ghost that nobody paid any mind too. The fact that the head gamemaker wanted to make sure that you didn't die unnerved you. 
Surely you weren't in that bad of shape, were you? Swallowing a lump in your dry throat, you croaked out, “How bad of shape am I in, Head Gamemaker Snow?”
“Please, darling, call me Coriolanus or Coryo, if you'd like.” The platinum blonde, who looked a bit sleep deprived in his wrinkled button up (as if he'd slept in it) told you. “I insist.” He smiled. 
Him calling you darling and insisting that you call him Coriolanus or Coryo made your insides churn. It wasn't right. Why would he be so informal with you. He was the head gamemaker, a 33-year-old man from the Capitol, and you were just a victor, an 18-year-old girl from District 12. You two shouldn't be informal with each other.
“Oh, where are my manners? You must be thirsty. Let me get you some water.” Corio- no Head Gamemaker Snow lightly chastised himself while rising from his chair.
Crossing the room to a counter where a tray with a pitcher and glass were, he explained, “When the peacekeepers pulled you out of the arena you had collapsed from dehydration.” Pouring you a glass of water, he further explained, “Your vitals were very low and, in fact, you died once on your way here, but the medics brought you back.”
“What the hell? I died?...” You gasped, struggling to comprehend what you just heard. 
Head Gamemaker Snow appeared by your side and placed the water glass into your hand. A hand much smaller and weaker than his large calloused one. “Yea, but you were revived.” Sitting on the edge of your bed, causing it to dip, he motioned for you to drink. “I must have my Victor alive and well, so that's why I've been keeping watch over you, Y/N.”
His words should've made you see a red flag waving in the air, but it didn't. Maybe you were too young and naive to catch onto the true meaning of his words. Maybe they went right over your head because you were still weak, or maybe since you had a stalker back in 12 that you had convinced yourself was just a weird neighbor boy you didn't realize the true possessive meaning of Coriolanus’ words.
“Are you going to stay here now that I'm awake or?...”
“Unfortunately, I have to leave you here and go home.” He pouted. What the hell, he actually pouted? You had to admit that his plush lips looked very kissable when he pouted. Petting your hair, he gave you a reassuring smile. “Don't worry, darling, I've made sure that you'll be well taken care of by the best nurses that money can buy in the Capitol.”
What he didn't tell you was that he threatened the lives of the nursing staff’s loved ones if you so much as had a hair out of place. That was something you didn't need to know. Just like you didn't need to know that when he first laid eyes on you, in your best cotton floral dress; your hair pulled back with a ribbon for Reaping Day, he found you the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes on and just had to claim you as his. Reason why, as the head gamemaker, he might or might not have screwed around with other tributes’ sponsor gifts and made sure you got a few things here and there that would ensure your survival. You had an innocence to you that he had the primal urge to consume. An innocence that was absent in the Capitol. An innocence and a beauty that he carved to have all to himself.
You just being you consumed him with a passionate obsession. One that he would act on soon. Very, very soon. He just needed to take care of his wife, Livia, so that he'd be free to make you his forever. But that wouldn't be hard, considering he was a master at making people drop dead from sudden food poisoning. 
Pressing a kiss to your hair, Corio- no Head Gamemaker Snow, promised, “I'll be back in the morning to check up on you before I'm needed at the Citadel.”
“You have to wrap up the game stuff don't you, Head Gamemaker Snow?” You asked, even though you were sure he'd say yes. In fact you didn't even know why you asked that. Maybe as a replacement for goodbye since you hated that word. 
Last time you said goodbye to somebody it was your mother and she took off with some officer, leaving you with your older half-brother Rein to take care of you both. He was 15 at the time and you were 5. Safe to say, you never used the word goodbye again in your life. 
“I told you, call me Coriolanus or Coryo.” He reminded you, not liking that you were still calling him by his title. “Yes, my darling rose, I must make sure that all the paperwork is in proper order for your prize money and the construction of your house in Victor's Village.” The platinum blonde man, who you just noticed has bags under his eyes, tiredly told you before pressing another kiss to your hair. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he said, “You need to be a good girl and rest for me.”
You blinked at him. What? Be a good girl? And rest for him? Say what? Your brain was short circuiting at his words. Not just his words, but the way his baritone was both dominant and soft as he spoke them.
Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he simply said, “We'll talk more tomorrow. I promise.”
“Okay.” You nodded numbly, unable to comprehend what the hell was happening. You went like your head was spinning, as if you had too much moonshine. Hell, what had your time in the arena done to you?
Coriolanus gave you a pleased smile before rising from his spot on your bed and walking out of your room; making sure to close the door behind him. It was only after he was gone that you realized you were in a private room.
Tumblr media
Coriolanus was fucking exhausted when he got home. He could barely keep his eyes open as he stepped out of his black sedan. After you were admitted to the hospital, he dismissed his driver and drove himself there. He didn't want the man to be waiting around on him while he stayed steadfast at your bedside, plus he was more than capable of driving himself home once he saw you open your beautiful eyes. What he wasn't expecting was for you to be asleep for over 24-hours. 
So, sleep deprived, Coriolanus walked into the townhouse he shared with his wife, Livia. The townhouse was a gift he received from Strabo and Ma Plinth once he announced his engagement, but he planned on putting it up on the market once he took care of Livia. He didn't want to bring you to this house that held nothing but hatred and misery in it.
No, he was going to bring you to his penthouse on the Corso. Now that's a proper place for you to live with him. In fact, he'd be telling you about your new residence tomorrow morning during your visit. Oh, he was so excited to tell you that you'd be staying in the Capitol with him. Of course, he'd use the excuse that since District 12 doesn't have a Victor’s Village and it must be constructed that he's arranged for you to use his Corso penthouse during the construction period.
It was a great plan. One that was foolproof. He just knew that you, being so young and innocent, would view his offer as one of help instead of one of ownership. Or, dare he say, love? Yes, love. He was sure that he was obsessively in love with you. It was a feeling he swore to never feel again, but yet again one just can't help who they fall in love with.
He always thought that marrying for hate instead of love or even tolerability would give him power, but truthfully all it gave him was a headache and a bad case of blueballs. Livia was a heinous bitch and was a cold fish in bed. She didn't like to fuck. What the fuck? Who doesn't like to fuck? Coriolanus thought that was absurd, unnatural even.
That's why he had to have affairs here and there; then turn the whores into avoxes to keep their mouths shut when he was done with them. What? He was a man after all and had needs. Needs that he knew you'd fulfill without any problems. With you he'd be faithful because you'd be his mind, body, and soul and would do anything for his love since you were so young. All he had to do was show you how in love *cough* obsessed *cough* he was with you and you'd be his forever.
Unknown to Coriolanus, the object of his marital hatred (Livia) was having an ongoing affair with one of the male avoxes in their household. An avox that had once been an equal of theirs in the Academy and the University, but crossed Snow the wrong way with a question about the songbird from 12. 
Coriolanus wasn't even to the stairs yet when he heard Livia’s screeching coming from the front sitting room. Great…seems like the bitch was waiting up for him. 
“Coriolanus, where have you been? The games ended and you never came home!” Livia demanded in a high pitch scream as her fuzzy heeled skippers clicked loudly against the hardwood floor as she ran out of the sitting room and into the main hall.
“Don't worry about where I was, Livia.” Coriolanus venomously gritted out as he made his way to the staircase.
“You're my husband, Coriolanus. I'm supposed to worry about where you've been.” Livia shrieked while following her husband. 
“I'm your husband when I don't come home, but when I'm home we have separate bedrooms and you come up with every excuse under the sun not to fuck me.” Coriolanus spat back as he tiredly trudged upstairs, feeling a migraine coming on from his wife's nagging. Oh, how he needed to poison that bitch yesterday.
“Your tastes in bed are not the same as mine, husband.” Livia said, placing special emphasis on the word husband, while following him upstairs. “You're too harsh for my taste, but that doesn't mean you can stay out for days on end with some whore.” 
All Coriolanus could see was red, like a raging bull, after hearing her remark. How dare she insult his prowess in bed? He knew how to fuck a woman and how to fuck her good; he never had any complaints either until he tied the knot with Livia. Damn bitch, won't fuck him and then insults his ability to fuck. Oh, yes, it was time for her to go. 
She outlived her usefulness. Livia couldn't give him the one thing he most desperately needed. An heir. What use did Coriolanus have for a woman that refuses to have his child? After a decade of hell with his wife, he was ready to cut his losses. He had control of her family's bank and the Plinths fortune, plus his status as Head Gamemaker and Senator along with his position on the War Council was more then enough to make him a successful candidate for president once the elder President Ravenstill kicked the bucket. He didn't need her for an heir anymore, not when he had you (you were young and fertile enough to give him litters of heirs).
Oh, Coriolanus knew exactly how to make up for never coming home after the games ended with Livia. Oh, yes, he did. 
“The victor, Y/N, from 12 was in bad shape and I had extra paperwork to do.” He smoothly lied to his dirty blonde wife as he set foot onto the second floor of his townhouse. Turning to look at her, he gave her a fake smile full of fake sympathy and offered, “How about I take you out to your favorite restaurant for dinner? The one that has that red wine you can't get enough of.”
“Yes, I accept your apology and dinner invitation. Just don't do this to me again, Coriolanus. We might hate each other, but I'm still your wife and deserve respect.” Livia told Coriolanus before taking off to her room, her robe billowing behind her.
Coriolanus smiled wickedly as he retired to his room. Oh, after tomorrow night he'd never have to deal with Livia ever again. He'd be free to have you all to himself, forever and always.
Tumblr media
You were walking in the plains, tall prairie grass blowing in the wind. The deeper you walked in it, the more dread you felt. You couldn't describe the feeling, but you just knew that something was wrong. Then, suddenly, you heard a crunching sound behind you. Turning around, you saw the last tribute, a girl from 2, with a knife in her hand running towards you. 
You were exhausted and thirsty. The water you had been gifted from a sponsor had run out nearly a day ago, so you were feeling the effects of dehydration. You didn't know if you either didn't have a lot of sponsors or weren't getting any more water bottles because a water source was nearby somewhere, but you did know that it sucked you were dying of thirst.
But your thirst didn't matter now. Surviving the girl from District 2 did and you knew you wouldn't be able to fight her in the tall grasses. So you ran. You ran as hard and fast as your lightheaded feet would carry you.
It didn't take long until you were out of the tall grasses and on a barren field of cracked soil. You had a small pocket knife that was gifted to you, something you were sure cost a hefty penny since sponsor weapons were always pricey according to Lucky Flickerman’s game commentary.
Flipping the switchblade open, you turned around and headed straight towards the girl that had tripped and fell at the edge of the plains grasses and the dry bed of field soil. Lifting up your knife, you made to plunge it into her, only for her to look up at you with a sinister smirk and plunge her knife right into your neck.
Your eyes flew open as you screamed bloody murder. You died! You had died in your nightmare instead of being victorious. That nightmare shook you to your core. It frightened you so much that you screamed yourself hoarse, until your vocal cords were stripped. You were so frightened that you huddled in the corner of your room in a fetal position.
Nurses and other hospital staff tried to tend to you; get you out of the corner, but you just struggled and fought with them. You couldn't let them near you. What if they wanted to kill you? What if they hurt you? Your dream had shaken you up so bad that you weren't quite with it yet. You weren't in reality, you were stuck in your own head and afraid that somebody or something was going to get you. You were scared out of your wits. You were so scared that you cried. You weren't aware that you were crying, but the tear stains marred your hollowed cheeks like scars.
Tumblr media
Coriolanus had only been asleep for an hour or so whenever he was awakened by a call from Capitol General Hospital. What the charge nurse told him made his heart clutch painfully. His victor, his darling rose, woke up terrified out of her mind and curled herself into a corner, screaming and crying her head off.
“She's having a nightmare about her time in the arena. Aren't you giving her anything to calm her down?” Coriolanus asked the nurse  he was on the phone with as he sat up in bed, flipping on his bedside lamp to softly illuminate his pitch black room in a golden glow of light.
“She won't let anyone near her and you did say to call you with any updates on her condition, sir “ The nurse hesitantly told him.
“I’ll be right there to sign her out since your hospital staff are incompetent and can't properly take care of a victor.” He told the nurse before hanging up on her.
It only took a few minutes for Coriolanus to dress and rush to the hospital. Despite being exhausted, you needed him and he wasn't going to let you down. You were his and he was going to take good care of you. He always took good care of his things. He did like his things to be perfect and if they weren't then he'd make sure that his favorite things were mended until they were perfect. You were his and he'd make sure that he made you perfect once more. Perfect for him, to be by his side as not just his Victor, but as his First Lady. His darling rose.
Dressed simply in a fitted white shirt and black pants, Coriolanus ran up the stairs to your floor and rushed into your room. The site of you curled up, tear tracks staining your cheeks, wide-eyed and afraid pulled at what little heartstrings were in his too small blackened heart. You looked like a wounded animal and he hates it. You were his victor, his darling rose, his future First Lady and he wanted you to recover your senses so that you could regain your strength; be all that he knew you were to him.
He slowly approached you with his hands out in a show of peace. “It's me, my darling rose. It's Coryo.” Coriolanus softy told you in an attempt to let him near you.
Your eyes blinked at hearing his nickname and for some reason you nodded at him. As he crouched down next to you, placing a tentative hand on your shoulder, you clutched the middle of his pristine white shit and sobbed, “I died, Coryo. I dreamed that I died instead of her.”
Your words gutted him. A world without you was no world at all. Wrapping his arms around you: letting you bury your head in his chest, he strokes your hair while offering you the comforting words of, “Oh, my darling, you're alive. You're alive and I won't let anything bad ever happen to you again, Y/N.” You shook in his arms, causing him to simply ask, “You hear me, my darling rose?”
“Mhm…” You mumbled out, too afraid to talk for fear that you'd start crying again. 
“Shh…” Coriolanus shushed you like one would do a small, frightened child. “I'm here. Your Coryo’s here and you're safe. You'll always be safe with me, darling.”
If you were of sound mind instead of scared out of it (from the horrors he designed and put into the damn games) you would've ran far far away from Coriolanus. But, sadly, you were too scared and on the verge of a mental breakdown to understand how twisted the man holding you really was. How obsessessive he was; how wrong letting him hold you was. No, you were too afraid to realize that you were letting the creator of your nightmares comfort you.
Once your sobs subsided and you quieted down, Coriolanus pulled back from you so that he could tilt your chin up in order to have your eyes on his. “I was going to wait til morning to tell you this, but you’ll be staying in a luxurious penthouse while the Victor’s Village is constructed in your district.”
You nodded, only to squeakily ask, “How long am I staying here?”
“Oh, just long enough to build your victor's house. I suppose it'll be done by time your victory tour rolls around; maybe even sooner.” He smoothly lied. He had no intentions whatsoever to let you go back to District 12. You deserved more then the mud and poverty stained streets of the coal district. You deserved to be bathed in rose scented oils and salts, dressed in the finest fashions, fed the best foods, and fucked on the best silk sheets that his money could buy. 
“Okay.” You nodded, naively believing the lies of the head gamemaker. 
“How about we get you out of here and over to the penthouse? Hmm? I'll even call Tigris to come over and spend the day with you, how'd you like that?”
“I like Tigris. She’s nice and was my stylist. Always talked to me like she cared.”
Coriolanus knew that his cousin was your stylist. He's the one that assigned her to you after all. But neither you nor her needed to know that. No…. It wasn't important. What was important was that you two got along, especially since in a short while you'll be family.
“Tigris is my cousin; I'm glad to hear that you like her.” Coriolanus told you while helping you to stand up. “And she does care about you, Y/N.” He told you while leading you over to your bed. “Never forget that the Snows care about you. And that snow lands on top.” He whispered into your ear while helping you sit on your bed. 
You just blinked at him, trying to process what he meant. You were so tired and mentally weak from your nightmare that you had no idea that his remark was one of possession. Your throat hurts from all the crying and screaming that you did, so you weren't thinking straight. Infact, your throat hurts so much that you grab the glass of water from your bedside table, quickly gulping it down.
“Be careful, you don't want to make yourself sick.” Coriolanus warned, much like a parent would to a child, while snatching the glass away from you.
“My throat’s dry and hurts. I need water.” You said in a pained whisper, side eying the glass in Coriolanus’ hand.
“Yes, well, that tends to happen when you scream and cry yourself hoarse.” He stated a bit coldly before lifting the glass to your lips and ordering, “Be a good girl and take small sips for me.”
You obeyed since your throat was aching. The small sips of the cool water seemed to soothe your damaged throat just enough to keep your mind off the pain. When Coriolanus felt you had enough to drink, he put the glass down on your side table. 
Petting your hair, he said, “I need to go sign you out at the front desk, but I'll be back soon to take you with me to the penthouse. Where you'll be safe.”
“Thank you.” You weakly smiled at the man that was now both your salvation and your damnation.
If only you knew what life awaited for you at that penthouse. Would you still be thanking him if you did?
Tumblr media
Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops,
@bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,
@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur
@squidscottjeans
1K notes · View notes
prettypearlypisces · 3 months
Text
𝔪𝔦𝔡𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 (𝔪) | 𝔪𝔶𝔤
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: yoongi x f.reader
𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤: m (18+); MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔰 | 𝔱𝔶𝔭𝔢 | 𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: complete | one-shot | fluff and smut
𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: "I think I can help you sleep better."
𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰 & 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: smut, explicit language, sleepy yoongi struggling with burnout :((( , taking a shower together <3, long hair Valentino yoongi 🧎🏻‍♀️, dick bulge through the silk pants 🫡 , oral sex (m. receiving), flexible dom/sub dynamics (they each take charge at certain points, but it's nothing intense), praise (yoongi calls her "pretty/good girl" 🫠), slight hair pulling/grabbing, face-fucking, finger sucking + a paragraph talking about Yoongi's hands, a lil bit of gagging, cum swallowing, might as well add body worship from how much reader talks about how gorgeous he is, yoongi's thighs ♡, spit/drooling, slight ball play, reader sniffs the balls because she's like that lmao, reader doesn't touch herself or cum, this list is nasty but I promise you they're very sweet with each other 😭, cuddling <3, this is about sucking dick it should not be this long
𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: ~4.8k
𝔞/𝔫: hello! this is my first fic ever on this blog. I rewatched all the Valentino Yoongi content recently, saw him looking scumptious in these pajamas, and next thing you know we're here 💀 I haven't written anything this long (that is non-academic) in a very, very long time, so I would ask that you please be nice and bear with me. But I do plan to get better the more I write. That said, I hope you enjoy! 🤍
𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 | 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 | 𝔞𝔰𝔨 | 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔡𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔨 | 𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔬𝔴𝔫
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞
“You need to relax.” 
Your voice was insistent but gentle, much like your fingers buried in Yoongi’s thick hair, and he closed his eyes and leaned into your palms as you worked shampoo into his scalp. A quiet whimper escaped his lips as you circled your fingertips against a tense muscle at the base of his skull. 
He was overworking himself again, frustration making his shoulders taut and wearing his patience thin. His eye bags were puffy, exhaustion evident in his eyes. It pained you to know that he hadn’t given himself a break over the past few weeks. Yoongi was so passionate, something you adored about him – but you knew that when inspiration struck, sometimes he had the tendency to push himself too hard, for too long. Now it left him on the brink of burnout. 
That’s where you came in. Yoongi had been glued to his desk before you came in and practically forced him from his chair. He made weak protests as you dragged him out of his home studio and forced him into the bathroom, but he’d shrugged off his clothes anyway as you turned on the warm water. 
Now you both stood under the warm sprinkle while you washed his hair. Yoongi let out pleased purr-like sounds from deep in his throat that made you grin. He reminded you of a wet, docile cat resigned to its bath time. 
When it was time to rinse, you cupped your hand over his brows to block any soap from getting in his eyes as water poured over his head. Then you took your fingers and gently rubbed along his neck to clean him and hopefully melt any tension there. Yoongi held your wrist and gently rubbed his thumb along your skin, his way of giving you a silent thank you. Warmth bloomed in your chest, so you planted a kiss on his fingers – your own silent “you're welcome” that wouldn’t disrupt the nighttime quiet. 
You held him close, rubbing down his chest and stomach with a soapy rag. Thick bubbles lathered from his shoulders all the way down to his fingers before swirling down the drain. 
Around his hips and butt, you were sure to be gentle, even gripping one of his cheeks playfully. Yoongi pouted, whiny, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the red that dusted his cheeks before his face broke out into a small, tired smile. Meanwhile, Yoongi set about reaching down to clean himself. He wasn’t overtly prude but he did always prefer to do this part himself, so you crouched down carefully and made your way down his legs. 
You focused on softly rubbing down Yoongi’s legs and even leaned forward to lay a soft kiss on the skin. You couldn’t explain it, but you adored Yoongi’s thighs. You loved touching them, holding them, kissing them. Biting them. A small pool of heat bloomed in you as you realized that you were now eye-level with his cock too, driving you to give him a more forceful, hungry kiss. The thought of taking him into your mouth, right here and now, crossed your mind, fueled by the simmering image of Yoongi’s head thrown back in bliss, body glistening from the shower water. Unfortunately, you knew from experience that water wasn’t conducive to sex, and the thought of soap getting in your eyes and nose was not in the least bit appealing. 
With great restraint, you pulled away and scrubbed his calves and feet. As soon as you were done, Yoongi hauled you up and scrubbed you down with the same gentle ease as you had given him. He made sure to shield your hair from the pouring water, since you’d clipped it up to keep it from getting wet. Your tummy quivered when Yoongi passed his hand between your legs, a small look of mischief glinting in his knowing eyes when you bit your lip. But he continued his downward path, leaving you feeling warmer than steam. 
A part of you ached, feeling how tender he was being with you, even when he was tired, even when you were the one trying to take care of him. He always was. Yoongi’s eyes flickered down to your face and must have seen something in it, because his eyes were soft when he met your gaze again. 
“I want to take care of you, too,” he said. You didn’t say anything, but the shy turn of your lips was enough to tell him how you felt. 
When you were done, Yoongi shut off the shower and reached out to wrap you in a spare towel, rubbing your shoulders and back all the way down your torso and legs. Then Yoongi deftly unwound the towel and used it to dry himself. You wrinkled your nose.
“You should use your own towel,” you complained, but there was no malice in your words. Yoongi only chuckled and pulled you close. 
“I’m tired,” he countered with a playful whine. “And impatient.” 
A laugh bubbled from your mouth and he rubbed his nose against your temple. Your cheeks warmed when he shifted and you felt a subtle tell-tale poke against your hip, but before you could say anything, he pulled away with a soft rub on your tummy to slip into his pajamas and finish his night routine. 
You were left to do the same, but now you felt anything but sleepy. 
The festering heat that had been lingering inside you now sparked into a deep desire. As you pulled on your pajamas – a simple tank top and sleep shorts – you thought of Yoongi’s hands on you, thought of his skin underneath your own wandering palms. 
Then you chided yourself. Don’t be selfish, you thought. He’s tired. Let him rest. You knew it was true. Yoongi was probably exhausted and would have no energy to do what you wanted, and it wasn’t fair to expect that of him right now. Besides, you reasoned, it wouldn’t be a good idea to keep him up longer than you already had. 
You made your way to the bedroom, which beckoned you with its deep blues and cozy greys. 
Yoongi’s room was a nighttime haven. He liked to keep it as comfortable as possible, with soft carpets and downy pillows. Next to his large bed sat a settee, your robe robe sprawled across it from when you’d tossed it before the shower.
Once you sat on the plush duvet, you almost immediately felt your eyelids become droopy. You were almost glad for the gentle tug of drowsiness, which quelled your desire enough to make sleep bearable. 
Until Yoongi came into the bedroom – and any thoughts you had about sleep immediately evaporated. 
His pajamas were black silk, the fabric sleek like ink against his skin in the low light of your bedroom. He didn’t seem to notice the way you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him while he riffled through his bedside drawer for something. Socks, maybe. You couldn’t be sure, not when your mind suddenly felt hazy as you traced the line of Yoongi’s body down, down until – Oh God, was that the outline of his cock?
Swallowing almost became impossible from how heavy your tongue suddenly felt in your mouth, your eyes hungrily taking in every delicious detail of the man in front of you. His dark hair, the curve of his lips, the small shadow that pooled in the divot of his collarbone, making you want to bite bite bite.
You didn’t know why these pajamas were driving you up the wall, especially when Yoongi had been naked in front of you not long ago, but they were. They pulled your eyes to him and sparked your dampened libido back to life. 
“What’s the matter, pretty girl?” Yoongi’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. Dark eyes and a small smirk met your eyes when you finally looked up. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Fuck. He knows.
Embarrassment flooded your cheeks, warm and red. Of course he would. He knew you. He knew you’d been aching for him ever since the shower, knew that you wouldn’t ask for what you wanted because you were supposed to be making sure he rested. But as your eyes fell again shamelessly to his veiled cock, you realized that he was just as needy as you. 
Yoongi’s gaze was the same – knowing, wanting – when you met it again, but the red of your cheeks disappeared as your lips parted in an impish smile. 
“Nothing,” you shrugged as you stood up from the bed, “just thinking.”
You closed the distance between you two, until the familiar smell of him, warm and woodsy, filled your head. 
“I think I can help you sleep better,” you said, your finger sliding up his chest and playing with the lapel of his sleep shirt. The look Yoongi gave you made you want to get on your knees right there and then. 
Yoongi’s breath was warm and sent goosebumps up your arms when he said, low and oh-so-quiet, “Show me.”
I will your eager smirk said as you took his hand. 
He followed you to the settee nestled in the corner of the room and landed with a quiet poof against the cushions when you pushed him backwards and immediately kneeled between his legs. 
A sly glint shone in your eye as you smoothed your hands down Yoongi’s chest, his heartbeat strong and steady, then brought them up and down his thighs over the luxurious slip of his silk pajamas, the fabric the only barrier keeping you from touching his skin.
Yoongi let you take your fill of him, leaning back against the cushions and watching you with amused eyes that made you only more eager to please him. As you worshiped him with your palms, the need to feel him everywhere overcame you. To smell him, touch him, taste him. 
Your hand ghosted over where his cock was hidden, and you nearly moaned feeling the slowly-stiffening bulge. A devious bite of your lip as you looked up at him, your hands reaching for the hem of his pants. “Can I take these off?” 
Yoongi huffed out a laugh, beautiful and bright. The sound made your heart swell. He ran a hand through his dark hair and sunk lower in his seat, spreading his legs wider. “Go for it.”
The pants were off in seconds and pooled around his ankles. Miles of milky white skin seemed to stretch on forever as Yoongi let you run your hands over him; his legs, his hips, his stomach and chest as your hands roamed under his shirt. You quickly unbuttoned it too, leaving his chest bare for you. 
Yoongi’s dark eyes brimmed with budding arousal but still shone playfully as he watched you. A tremor ran through him as you gently scraped your nails down the skin of his navel, right above his cock. Goosebumps traveled up Yoongi’s stomach and a quick glance upwards let you know that his nipples had stiffened, but you kept your eyes on the real prize.
Semi-erect and already stiff at the base, Yoongi’s cock was flushed dusky pink at the tip. Desire coursed hot and molten through you, your hands hot as you shifted eagerly on your knees. You couldn’t wait to have him in your mouth.
Leaning in, you pressed small, fleeting kisses around his thighs, avoiding his cock entirely, getting him worked up from the teasing sensation of your lips on his skin. In truth, it helped hold you back as well. Yoongi’s pretty honey skin always filled you with the desire to mark him up. The temptation to suck on it, bite it, worry it between your teeth until bruises and bite marks bloomed all over him was strong, but instead you settled for gentle brushes of your lips.
Your hands still made their way up and around his legs, soothing and comforting. Closer and closer you made your way up, licking at warm skin. A breathy sigh made you look up: Yoongi’s head tilted back slightly as he looked down at you through half-lidded eyes. 
You lifted your head and rubbed around his hip bones. “Good?”
Yoongi hummed in response, the tension in him melting away as he gave you a slow smile. “So good I’m falling asleep.” 
“Don’t sleep on me.”
“Keep me up,” Yoongi challenged.
You rolled your eyes and pinched his thigh playfully. “Fine, I’ll get to it.” 
Settling in again, you licked your palm and fingers. You heard Yoongi gasp quietly as you wrapped your fingers around him, gently pumping your fist. His skin was hot, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Laying your head against his hip, you watched him close his eyes as he licked his lips. 
“Better?” you asked with amused eyes.
Yoongi nodded. “Much better.”
You hummed, pleased. “Good.”
Once Yoongi’s cock had completely filled out, you took a moment to admire it. 
You remembered, before ever seeing Yoongi naked, wondering if his cock was just as pink as his lips, his elbows, the knuckles of his long, knobby fingers. You had been pleased to find out that it was pinker, especially when erect. 
The head glistened red and sticky with precum. You felt your own mouth start to drool at the thought of it between your lips: the velvety skin, the heavy weight of it against your tongue, the taste of him. 
You rubbed his hips before taking his cock in your hand again. 
“So fucking perfect,” you breathed, the words pouring out of your mouth before you could even think, your breath ghosting tantalizingly close to his tip. Yoongi let his head fall back in bliss as you worked your fist around him, goosebumps racing along his hips. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him splayed out above you, knowing you were making him feel so good.
Feeling bold, you continued to stroke him and leaned down to where his balls hung low. Yoongi lifted his head, eyes sharp as your tongue laved over the velvety skin before gently sucking one of the plump balls into your mouth. You held his gaze, unwavering, matching the intensity of Yoongi’s dark eyes. You hummed, pleased, then smirked slightly before placing a wet kiss where your lips had just been. Then you did the same with the other, rolling it in your mouth gently. Yoongi’s soft tongue poked out to lick at his lips before he sucked in a shaky breath, reveling in the pleasure of you playing with him
Precum slipped between your fingers and filled the room with the slick sound of the glide up and down his shaft. The wet, filthy sound drove your lust to even greater heights, and the whine Yoongi let out when you suddenly stopped stroking made your cunt ache.
His eyes met yours and the smile you gave him was absolutely sinful when you gripped your fingers around his tip to press your nose against the base of his cock. Yoongi covered his face and huffed out a laugh that broke into a strangled moan as you inhaled the clean, heady scent of him.
You hummed lowly. “Fuck, you smell so good, Yoon.” 
A bead of precum dripped from the slit of his cock, and you circled it around the head with your thumb, unrelenting, until it was sensitive and glistening. You relished the way his thighs tensed at the motion, the way his hands tensed, the way he squeezed his eyes shut. A teasing lick to his head. A strangled “shit” under his breath. Fuck, you couldn’t wait to have him moaning, loudly. 
You wanted him, craved the taste of him, the feel of him in your mouth—
“Can’t wait to taste you,” you said innocently, then taunting. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Like me to suck on your cock?”
You licked your lips, watched Yoongi’s eyes follow the movement of your purposeful tongue, then licked up the underside of his swollen, needy shaft. A low moan tumbled from Yoongi’s mouth as he shifted his hips. “Fuck—yes, please.”
Satisfied with his desperation, you brought your mouth down around the aching tip of his cock. Yoongi sucked in a breath and gripped the cushions as you teased your tongue over his slit. The salty taste of precum burst in your mouth. Slick and warm, it coated your tongue. You moaned. This is what you wanted.
After a few moments toying with his slit, you circled the sensitive rim around the crown of his cock, drawing breathy moans from Yoongi’s lips. Then you trailed your tongue down to the spot underneath where you knew he was sensitive and slowly licked it with the flat of your tongue. 
Yoongi had shown you how he liked to tease it with the pad of his finger sometimes while he masturbated – quick or languid, always unrelenting until he’d managed to spurt all over himself. He loved when you played with it afterwards, making his hips spasm from the oversensitivity. More precum dribbled from his tip which you suckled up with deliberate licks.
Yoongi threw his head back and stilled as your tongue flicked over the spot quickly, assaulting it with your tongue. “Fuck,” he hissed, his whole body tense above you. 
Suddenly, a dull pain lanced across your scalp. Yoongi’s hand laced into your hair and pulled your head closer, making you whimper at the rough treatment.
“Down,” he said, tugging again, and holy shit, just one word uttered gently from him had you clenching your cunt desperately like a bitch in heat. Happy to comply, you sunk your mouth down around him, keeping your eyes on him the way he liked it. You held your head low for a moment before pulling off. “Good girl,” he praised with a subtle groan. Yoongi gave you a couple seconds to regain yourself, rubbing soothing circles on your abused scalp, before saying, “Again.”
Eager, you repeated the motion and held your mouth there for a moment, eyes closed as you swallowed around him. When it was time to pull off, you sucked in a breath with your eyes locked on his slick cock. To see it flushed and gleaming with your spit made your stomach twist with lewd excitement. A whispered “fuck” left Yoongi’s lips as a string of spit stretched from his tip to your lips, and you preened when Yoongi reached out rub his thumb soothingly across yourcheek. 
“You look so pretty with your mouth full of my cock,” he said, and you felt dizzy with arousal when he gave you his beautiful smile. He was gorgeous — dark hair and deep eyes and flushed cheeks. Tender touches and gentle praise. The sudden fondness in Yoongi’s eyes clashing with his filthy words and the fact that his cock had been down your throat not five seconds ago gave you momentary whiplash.
Yoongi’s smile melted into something cruel as he dragged his thumb down your mouth, breaking the sticky string of spit, before pushing it past your lips. Feeling cocky, your tongue came out to lick obscenely around his thumb and you moaned around it as if it were his cock. 
It might as well have been; you loved Yoongi’s hands, his long fingers and rough palms. His beautiful instruments, when he was strumming the guitar or playing the piano. You loved how gentle they were with you, brushing back your hair, holding your hands, cupping your cheeks. But you also loved how filthy they could be: rubbing your clit and fucking your wet cunt until it made obscene squelching sounds and dripped down his palm. You felt your cunt drool filthily onto your panties, surely soaked by now.
Two more fingers pressed past the gates of your lips as Yoongi fingered your throat gently. Fuck, such a filthy sight had Yoongi gripping his still-aching cock, groaning at the way your throat tightened around his digits, the way spit spilled from your mouth. 
“So fuckin’ eager, like you were made for me.” Yoongi’s voice rumbled low from his throat, his chest heaving slightly, making you grip your knees. He pulled his fingers from your mouth and tilted your chin up, your hazy eyes now open. A surprised squeak left your mouth as Yoongi leaned down and kissed you sweetly on the lips. His soft hair ticked your cheeks. 
“Just a little more, yeah?” he said, holding your face close to his, and you nodded, dazed. Your eyes locked onto his pink lips that shone with your own spit and his precum. The sight shouldn’t have excited you as much as it did, but it sent a thrill up your spine.
Then Yoongi was leaning back and licking his lips. “Then c’mere, pretty girl, come finish sucking my cock.” 
And how could you say no to that?
It wasn’t long before Yoongi’s wet cock was back in your willing mouth. You circled your tongue around his tip reverently, Yoongi’s hips canting into your mouth when you looked up at him with those slutty, wanton eyes. 
“Good girl—just like that,” he groaned. “Keep going and don’t fucking stop.”
Your pussy tingled and you thought you might be able to cum just from the way the center seam of your shorts was rubbing against you. Even if you didn’t, you would be more than satisfied. You loved making Yoongi feel good, and you loved his cock. You could spend eternity on your knees worshiping Yoongi and his beautiful tool. The glide of him in and out of your mouth was perfect, so solid and warm that you couldn’t help but think about the way it felt when he slid into your cunt, filling you up just right, slippery with your wetness—
God, if you weren’t so hell-bent on making sure Yoongi slept well tonight, you’d push him down and ride him until morning. 
You gagged a bit in surprise when Yoongi gave a particularly quick thrust into your mouth, but fuck it if the sound he made wasn’t worth it. The deep, breathy groan went straight to your cunt, and you moaned around a mouthful of cock. Pleasant vibrations traveled down Yoongi’s shaft and made Yoongi’s grip on your hair tighten. 
“This okay?” he asked, breath strained. Yoongi’s fingers tensed and, as if he could sense the sharp pain in your scalp, immediately went lax.
So considerate, you thought fondly to yourself. You’d be smiling if your mouth wasn’t so busy. 
You brought Yoongi’s free hand to where his other fingers were already threaded in your hair. A garbled hum and a nod was all it took for him to hold your head in place as he rut his hips into your mouth, letting out a string of moans while your fingers played with his balls. 
Spit slid past your lips and dripped down your chin with each of Yoongi’s thrusts into your mouth. You felt so thoroughly used, sitting for him so prettily on your knees, not even touching yourself while he chased his release.
“You’re doing so good, so fucking good,” he said, sucking in a breath, head thrown back against the couch. 
Yoongi’s hand pushed you down until your throat contracted around him, tears welling along your waterline. You didn’t mind though — Yoongi was desperate to cum, chasing blissful orgasm, and you were happy to give it to him. 
As he thrust into your mouth, you licked along his shaft before flexing your tongue to rub against the rim of his cockhead. Yoongi’s hips stuttered and he let out a shaky breath. You peeked up at his blissful face, seeing his half-lidded, hazy eyes. Yoongi was close, teetering on the precipice of his release. His stomach was tense as you slobbered over him, the sound of your slick lips and his voice mingling in a lustful torrent. 
You groaned eagerly, letting your tongue do the work until, finally, Yoongi came. The deep, breathy groan he let out was going to stay with you forever. So was the sight of Yoongi in the throes of his orgasm: head thrown back, thighs spread, skin flushed pink all the way down his neck. The veins snaking up his arms were taut, stark under his skin. 
Yoongi’s brows were furrowed and his plush lips parted. His hips stilled as he pushed you down securely on his cock. It pulsed hotly in your mouth, spurting a thick pool of cum on your tongue, making you moan obscenely. Yoongi’s breath hitched as you closed your eyes and swallowed his seed, palm still cupping his balls. 
Like his length, they throbbed as his cum was spent. You fondled them gently to milk more out of him, not wanting to miss a single drop. You loved Yoongi’s cum — the taste of it, the feeling of it sliding hotly down your throat and settling deep in your belly. Your eyes became glassy at the thought, a dopey smile spreading across your lips. 
Yoongi gently slid himself from your mouth to paint your lips with the last drops of his cum, watching you reverently drink everything he had to offer until there was nothing left. Feeling naughty, you licked across his overstimulated tip one last time, and Yoongi shuddered, his thighs closing around her head. 
“Brat,” he huffed, but he was smiling. Your smile was just as bright as you swallowed the sticky mess on your lips and lapped at his cock with little kitten licks to clean him up. A kiss was planted on his knee before you pulled up his pants and tucked him away. “Only for you,” you said with a pat to his thighs. 
Yoongi re-buttoned his sleep shirt and pulled you up into his lap to smooth down your unruly hair. He gently ran his fingers across your chin, wiping away the mess of his escaped cum and your spit. Then he kissed you. You hummed happily against his lips before Yoongi pulled away.
“Thank you,” he whispered, looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. “You always make me feel so good.”
It was amazing, really, how you could suck his cock so unabashedly on your knees, but the gentlest words from his mouth had you blushing shyly. 
He took your hand in his and led you towards the bed where he pulled you down with him, his frame enveloping yours as the comforter fell over you two. Yoongi intertwined your fingers and rubbed his thumb across the back of your knuckles. 
He was always like this in the afterglow of whatever you two did – affectionate, attentive, a bit sleepy. Yoongi was, at heart, a passionate, considerate lover who thrived on soft and tender moments such as these. You could never get enough of it; the way he touched you, how tender and safe he made you feel. 
He rubbed his nose against your hair and slipped his hand across your stomach, solid and warm. 
“You didn’t cum?” he asked, and you shook your head no. Yoongi drummed his fingers soothingly against your skin. “You want to?”
The offer was tempting, but you felt yourself close to crashing now that you had burned through your lust, and although you couldn’t see him, you knew Yoongi must have been even sleepier than you. 
You brought his hand close to your chest and kissed his fingers sweetly.
“Later. I’m sleepy,” you said, then sighed. “Besides, I feel like I need another shower.” 
Indeed, a cool layer of sweat now covered your skin, along with some spit and cum that had dripped onto your chest. Not to mention how sticky your panties felt in your shorts. 
Yoongi chuckled sleepily and tightened his arm around you. “Okay,” he agreed, holding you close before his fingers ventured down and pressed over the seam of your shorts. He rubbed a slow, deliberate circle over your clothed mound, a teasing phantom touch that reminded you of the pleasure he could give you with those fingers. His lips were hot against your throat, and you shivered as he gripped your hip in his free hand and said, so close to your ear that you shivered, “Later.”
The thought of his head between your thighs, suckling on your poor pussy while his deft fingers prepared you for his cock, flooded your mind. You could only imagine soaking him down to the base as he slipped inside you, making you roll your hips against his fingers. 
You nodded quickly, breathily. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds good.” 
Yoongi’s breath was like a balmy breeze on your neck as he chuckled. “Thought so.” He placed a kiss under your ear before snuggling close, finally letting himself sleep. Your own eyelids fell shut, and Yoongi’s heartbeat lulled you like a gentle rhythm in your ear until sleep overcame you too. 
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞
Copyright © prettypearlypisces. Do not copy, rewrite, repost, translate, or otherwise alter or claim on any platforms.
2K notes · View notes
sanguineterrain · 4 months
Text
restroom attendant | jason todd
Tumblr media
Summary: Tonight is the worst night ever--you just got dumped on your birthday, and all you want to do is cry in the restaurant bathroom in peace. That is, until, the Red Hood bursts in. This city just won't cut you a break.
Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader 
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings/tags: humor, mild angst, reader's ex-bf cheats and dumps her, jason is such a silly goose, flirting, meet ugly, canon-typical violence, awkward jason, comic relief dick grayson.
A/N: this is probably the silliest fic i've ever written LOL! i hope you guys enjoy it. please support your local jason todd enthusiast and reblog :)
the divider
Tumblr media
Tonight sucks. 
With a shaky hand, you attempt to soothe your swollen eyes. You’ve probably been in here for about twenty minutes. Your Uber has definitely left, as has your now ex-boyfriend of three years. 
Yoga instructor. It’s always the yoga instructor. They’re always fucking the yoga instructor.
You swallow a mouthful of tears and phlegm and try not to let the wet sink touch your dress. All you’d wanted was a little class on your birthday, maybe have some wine and play footsie under the table with your boyfriend. But no. That would’ve been too easy for you. 
You’re starting to think this city is cursed.
The door slams open. The force of it shakes the bathroom, rattles the mirrors. You spin around.
A man slides across the floor and smacks his head on the opposite wall. Red Hood appears in the doorway, the eyes of his helmet glowing eerily. 
Yep. Definitely cursed.
"Let's try this again," Hood says pleasantly, reloading his gun with a fresh magazine. "And in the interest of making myself transparent: when I ask you a question, Jerry, I expect a truthful answer."
He stalks over to Jerry and heaves him up by the lapels of his suit jacket. Hood's biceps bulge as he holds Jerry against the wall. You squish yourself against the sink. Water soaks the back of your dress. 
"You're crazy, I didn't do anything!" Jerry shouts, feet barely scraping the floor. 
"Volume, Jerry. People are trying to enjoy their meals.”
“Let go of me, Hood! I wasn’t anywhere near the Iceberg Lounge!”
“Yeah, see, words are coming outta your mouth, but they don't match the fact that I have three people who put you at the scene. How can we remedy this inconsistency? Any ideas?"
Jerry squirms, but he's no match for Hood's strength. Your heart pounds in your chest.
"Don't give me to the cops!" Jerry begs. 
"Cops are the least of your worries right now," Hood snarls. "You're damn lucky Nightwing wants to talk to you, Jerry, or your head would hurt a lot more."
Slowly, you reach for your purse, trying to pull out your phone. Instead, you knock it to the floor. Tears gather in your eyes because this night just can’t cut you a break.
“Motherfucker,” you whisper. 
Hood turns, those frightening white eyes now on you. Jerry also looks at you, legs still dangling.
“Hey,” Hood says without a sign of struggle. “Shit. Y'alright? Did I swipe ya?”
“No,” you say, voice shaky.
His posture softens. “Okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t be afraid.”
“I believe you. But, um… you're in the women's bathroom.”
Red Hood gives the room a onceover. 
“Huh. So we are. Dunno how that happened.” He shakes Jerry by the collar. “Why’d you run into the women’s bathroom, asshole?”
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Don't kill me!” Jerry wails. 
“Shut it, Jesus. I'm not gonna kill you. Not yet, anyway.” 
“It's fine, I was just leaving,” you say, bending down to get your purse. 
“Hey, no, don't let me push you out,” Hood says. “Sorry. I'll be gone in a couple minutes.”
Hood adjusts his grip so Jerry's face is against the wall, arms and legs restrained. Then he zipties Jerry and sits him down hard on the floor. Hood presses a button on his helmet. 
“Yo, N, I'm at Prescott's. Yeah, with Jerry. No, I didn't tell him to run in here, he did that all on his own! Well, I chased him for ten blocks, so I’d prefer if you’d keep your bitching to yourself. Thank you… Okay, we're in the women's bathroom, so—well, I didn't do it on purpose! No, I’m—will you just come here? There’s a side window.” Hood presses the button again with a grunt. “Dickhead.”
“Are you gonna erase my memory?” you ask. 
Hood jerks, turning back to you.
“What? Hell no, I'm not gonna erase your memory. I don't do that shit, I promise.”
You slump against the sink. “That's too bad. I would prefer it.”
He looks up from Jerry’s last ziptie and pulls it extra tight. Jerry whimpers. 
“How come?” Hood asks.
You shake your head. “It's nothing.”
“Hm. Doesn't look like nothing. If you're in danger—”
“I'm not in danger. I…”
You glance at Hood. You can't see his face, but his body language seems genuine. From what you've heard, Hood isn't known for mincing words or doing things he doesn't want to. And he’s good to Gothamites. Well, the law-abiding ones, anyway. He’s even been endorsed by Batman.
What's the harm in telling him about your disastrous night? Not like you'll see him again. Or Jerry. 
“I got dumped,” you say. 
“Ah.” Hood nods. “Been there.”
Somehow, the idea of Red Hood getting dumped is weirder than him beating up a guy in the women’s bathroom of Prescott’s.
You sniffle, and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. 
“Yeah, um. It was our three year anniversary today. He took me here, told me he was in love with his yoga instructor, and then left.”
You tear up thinking about it. Hood makes a quiet noise.
“Shit. Well, I haven't been there,” he says. “But I know infidelity. I'm sorry. Dudes are trash.”
“And it's my birthday today,” you blurt, sniffling. 
“Happy birthday,” Jerry says, clutching his stomach. 
“What a fucking asshole!” Hood snarls, and lets go of Jerry, who crumples like a sack of potatoes. He’s out cold in a second, frozen on the floor.
Your brows rise. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. It’s his first time in Gotham.” Hood shrugs. “Anyway, where was I? Right, your asshole ex. Like it's not enough to publicly dump you, and then he goes and does it on your birthday? Who is this guy? I'll go talk to him right now.”
You laugh a loud, snorting laugh. It bounces off the tiles. 
Hood tilts his head. “What’d I say?”
You catch your breath and wave your hand. 
“No, nothing, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a crappy night and that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered to me.”
“I mean it,” Hood says. “I’ll scare him if you want.”
“As tempting as that is, I don’t want to be an accessory to a crime.”
You also don’t want to put your ex in the ICU, no matter how much he might deserve it. Best to let the universe do its thing.
“You’d be acquitted, don’t worry.” Hood leans against the stall. “I’d never letcha go to jail.”
You smile, your ears growing warm. “You don’t even know me. What if I deserve it?”
“Nah. I got a good sense about people. I can tell you’re sweet. Probably don’t even run through red lights.”
“I try not to,” you say, heat spreading to your face. 
“Yeah, a good girl. I figured as much.”
Your eyes widen. Hood coughs and rubs his neck. Even his coughs sound intimidating through the helmet, but that’s negated by his scrunched-up posture.
“Fuck. Sorry. That wasn’t a come-on,” he says. “I mean, it sounded like one, but I’m realizing what a creep I am, flirting with you in a bathroom with a zip-tied criminal. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I hate myself.”
You grin. “It’s okay. You made my night better, actually. Thanks.”
“That’s a testament to how terrible your night’s been if I made it better.”
You shrug. “Could always be worse. I bet Jerry had an even shittier night than me.”
“You’d win that bet. But I—”
The window swings open with a clunk. Nightwing pops his head in. He looks at Hood, then you. 
“Uh,” he says. “Evening. What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is it took you almost ten minutes to get here,” Hood says, back in Vigilante Mode. “Did you get lost?”
Nightwing smiles with all his teeth. “I was actually cleaning up your mess at the Bowery, Hood. You’re welcome.” 
He looks at you. “Hi. Sorry about this. I hope we didn’t ruin your night. If there’s anything we can reimburse you for…”
You shake your head. “It’s okay. My night was already sunk. Don’t worry about it. Thanks for keeping Gotham safe.”
Nightwing laughs. “The pleasure is ours.”
“Alright, enough chattering, Dickwing,” Hood says. “Take him.”
He lifts the unconscious Jerry, pushing him up to the window. He does so effortlessly, his jacket riding up to reveal his skin-tight jumpsuit. 
You look away before he catches you staring. There’s definitely something wrong with you. 
Nightwing takes Jerry and waves at you. Then he disappears.
“So, uh,” Hood says. “I gotta go.”
“Oh! Right, of course. Sorry to keep you.”
“Now what’re you apologizing for?” he asks, and it almost sounds like a tease. You wonder what his smile looks like. What color his eyes are.
“Well, I really didn’t mean to keep you…”
“You didn’t keep me,” Hood says, and you can hear the warmth even through his decoder. “This is probably the best arrest I’ve ever made.”
He starts to climb through the window, then stops. He digs into one of the pockets of his belt and pulls out a scrap of paper. 
“This is my number,” he says. “Well, it’s kind of the vigilante hotline. But you can reach me here, in case you ever need help.”
Hood walks over to give it to you. He smells like gunpowder and oranges. He’s even larger this close, the width of his shoulders dwarfing you. 
“Thank you,” you say quietly. 
He nods and backs up, clapping his hands.
“Right. So I’ll go… Bye.”
Hood looks at you for a moment more. Then he hops up onto the window sill and slides out, somehow graceful despite his bulk. The window closes. 
Your dress has dried, which is nice. You walk out of the bathroom. It’s a miracle no one else has come in. 
You get your coat and this time, when you see the empty seat across from yours, you don’t burst into tears, which is progress. You call another Uber and go to wait for it at the front. The hostess approaches you.
“Ma’am?” she says, and holds out a small, plastic container. In it is a slice of tiramisu. 
“I didn’t order this,” you say.
“It was called in and paid for by a Mr. R.H. He wishes you a happy birthday.” 
“Oh. Thank you.”
You’re definitely leaving a five-star review on Yelp.
2K notes · View notes