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#I just spent money I don’t even have and that’s fine
katsco · 2 years
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GUESS WHO GOT A TICKET TO TOMMYS SHOW.
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hella1975 · 11 months
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absolutely getting fined for this ❤️
#soooo I took my fairy lights off my walls bc we’re all moving out soon and we’ve been joking about accidentally peeling the paint#and not only did the paint peel but there was soot EVERYWHERE#and naturally I took a wet cloth to it to clean it and yeah the small dots of soot where my lights had been came off#but instead they became huge smears of soot all over the fucking wall#and when I tried to clean THAT I made it worse#one wall is actually unsalvagable I’m gonna have to fully repaint it and pray#luckily it’s white so I don’t need to worry about shade matching and the lighting in my room is so appalling that I don’t think my landlord#will notice the one white wall is Significantly Brighter than the other#BUT ONE WALL IS THIS UGLY GREY BROWN COLOUR THAT MY FLATMATE ALREADY TRIED TO SHADE MATCH BC HERS PEELED#AND SHE CANT AND I LITERALLY HAVE SOOT SMEARS EVERYWHERE#it’s an £80 fine per wall im looking at potentially £160 in fines if I can’t fix this#my flatmate is gonna try fix it tomorrow bc I’m going home#she was actually really good about it like when I freak out I get angry and I was just raging about trying to fix it#and she was like ‘it’s okay I’ve seen worse I’ll do it tomorrow I guarantee I can get it off’ and I didn’t even ask her to#bc it didn’t even cross my mind to expect her to help with it so it was just sweet#I hope she can fix at least the coloured wall bc I can’t paint over that#the white wall I fucking doubt can be fixed but I can paint that one at least#I’m just so pissed off bc normally you put a deposit down at the start of the tenancy and if u damage the property they use that money#to cover the charges. like it’d be shit to not get my deposit back but in my head that’s money already spent#whereas this is just a straight up fee of £160 potentially#and I’m already so behind with money like I saved £2k for america so I have NOTHING ELSE banked#I owe my parents that £600 from rent still AND I owe my friend £155 bc we’re going to Ireland in September#like at least my friend is v understanding and I made it very clear before she agreed to cover me that I wouldn’t be able to pay back for#a good few months and she didn’t mind#so I’ll put that one on the back burner#but STILL WHAT THE FUCKKKKK I’m so mad why do I make such a mess out of literally everything it’s acc impressive#hella goes to uni
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lilgynt · 13 days
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no i don’t care that most of my moms commutation to me especially to direct question is just straight up ignoring me or some other form of non verbal communication. like grunting or vague pointing. the glass i broke outside is unrelated
#personal#no i don’t think this affected my siblings either and that they love to ignore direct statements :)#like i’m fine with it most the time#not fine but just used to it#but i asked can you handle dog food tonight i got it this morning#and after realizing we both got it this morning i asked again if she can get it tonight or not#to be clear the understanding we both fed her was her giving me a weird look then goin back to watching tv then i said it’s a yes or no i#can do it can you just answer THEN she said she did it this morning#anyway i ask again and just keeps looking at the tv#and the only time in months she felt like cleaning the kitchen was when i was doing my taxes#so eventually i’m like fine let me go through turbo tax bc im sure im doing it wrong on the irs site#and god. god. the dog pissed on the floor i put a piss towel down so we don’t trip she immediately picks it up to wash it - which would be#fine except it’s soaking wet piss all on the floor and she’s like okay?#also speaking of the floor i deep cleaned it twice spent some of the last of the money i have for cleaners next day all fucked up with shoe#marks and dirt and i’m like mom what happened#she’s watching tv and she’s like dog peed#so from the front of the kitchen to the back door to the fridge the dog pissed all across and might i add dirt black piss with foot marks#cleaned it again but it’s already so fucking dirty#she can’t even put her laundry in the dryer#i asked her to leave so i can focus bc the plates and washing and moving things is too loud and i can’t focus i don’t tell her all that#but she starts laughing at me meanly and doesn’t even go back when i’m done#so it’s like what just bc i needed the kitchen you decided to clean??? for the first time ever???????#i’m always begging her to move her stuff bc i’m not allowed to but we’ve been balancing whatever food items we need just on top of WHATEVER#BUT THIS IS WHEN? and im telling ben im not in a good space between mom and the break in and he’s like sorry :( also you should go into#debt for mom bc i’m not which i’m really happy he’s not but im never getting out!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#and he can’t comfort me about mom and frank won’t comfort me about dad and mom hates me and it just feels like none of them fuck with me at#all whatsoever and that’s so upsetting#this house is so dirty and i’m not doing great at all actually im doing awful and my whole family hates me to some degree and i wish i#wasn’t born bc like. it’s bad enough life is bad can my family like me. and im never getting out so im stuck like this forever
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getitoncamera · 30 days
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i’m sorry but if you approve someone’s work hours you can’t then schedule them outside of those hours???
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diejager · 5 months
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Omfg pervy roommate König!!! And his poor little roommate is none the wiser to how he abuses her poor cunt every night. He does such a good job fucking his load into her that she confides in him as a friend that she’s pregnant and is super shocked!! But that’s okay, he’ll always be there for her. Now she’ll never be able to leave him. <3
Cw: forced pregnancy, NON-CON/CUB-CON, DARKFIC, pervy!önig, perverted behaviour, somnophilia, dacryphilia, breeding kink, possessive behaviour, pregnancy, drugging, tell me if I missed any.
You’re blissfully unaware of his advances, or his nightly excursions into, pumping his cum into your already filled womb and putting a baby into you. He liked how disoriented and confused you look the day after, waking up pantieless, your bedsheets crusty and dried cum sticking to your thighs. You always come to him for advice, wanting to know why you came all over yourself, leaving you covered in your own slick and cheeks burning with shame when you told him, oblivious of his gleeful eyes narrowed down at you with a hidden grin.
It goes on for a while, he feeds sleeping pills - the ones from his prescribed-bottle for his insomnia - breaking half a pill down to a fine powder and spike your bedtime drink, waiting for you to doze off, sleeping so deeply that even an earthquake wouldn’t wake you up, and he fucks you. He, sometimes, takes his time, thrusting slowly, enjoying the slow and romantic pace, feeling you wrapped around him. Other times, he goes feral, pounding and bruising you, hands manhandling you into the prettiest position to let him fuck you deeper, the head of his red, angry cock kissing your cervix brutally.
You don’t take pills or any contraceptives, letting your monthly cycle roll over and deal with the cramps with painkillers. So he’s not surprised when you come crying to him about being pregnant after going to see your doctor about your daily nausea and stomach pains. He expected you to be pregnant after so many nights of filling you up, pushing load after load of fertile cum - he takes supplements to make him more virile - into your young womb, what he didn’t put into account was the long time it took to finally knock you up, the months he spent waiting and biting the skin off his thumb until it bled to have you round and plump with his child.
You had the prettiest face when you cried, eyes puffy and lips pouty, it made his cock stir, throbbing in his pants. It drove him wild, seeing you cry and whine about not being ready to be a mother, still so young and oblivious to who the father was —you didn’t even remember the last time you fucked anyone. König spent the day comforting you, wiping your swollen eyes with high-quality cashmere tissues he bought just for you, whispering sweet lullabies to you until your tears stop - much to his chagrin - and cradled you in his lap, fingers thumbing the soft fat of your thighs, running soothing circles with his calloused thumb.
He’ll wait until the baby’s born to tell you he’s the father, he might not be patient enough to sit around and wait, but he is patient enough to know when he should and when he shouldn’t wait. He’ll care of you until you come to term. He has the money to buy you whatever you need, KorTac is the best paying PMC and he was a colonel in the past, racking up a large sum of money before he signed a contract. Your cravings, your needs, your wants and whatever else you ask, your roommate - your soon-to-be-husband - König will take care of everything.
What a nice roommate you have, no?
Taglist: @hiraya1802 @tess0288 @elichisstuff @emodanoriddler @kenz-ee @bunnyclaire @akenosimp167 @havoc973 @death8match @yourliebling @allicsirp00 @cross-axis @hereforhotbitches @delulu4ghost @monster-in-paradise @nordicvsp @madi0987 @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @223princess @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday
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orpheuscas · 1 year
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i think i am maybe the most depressed i’ve ever been lmao
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paopufruits · 1 year
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i hate playing word games bc my brain completely tosses out all rational thought and starts pronouncing words incorrectly. like why is my mind saying copy as coh-pee and dead as deed and not recognizing them as real words??
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seokgyuu · 3 months
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What could be worse than a valentine’s day alone? Exactly, a valentine’s day spent with your academic rival, Jeon Wonwoo, stuck in the home eco’s kitchen because you were both sentenced to take over the cookie baking for this season’s day of love. 
pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader
genre: academic rivals to lovers, smut, heart wrenching and tooth rotting fluff (wonwoo is down bad bad)
warnings: sexual content, smut warnings under cut! wonwoo is a little bit mean? but like not too mean? she’s also kinda mean. but they are in love! promise.
word count: 5k
a/n: hi everyone!! this is part of the cupids collab hosted by the wonderful @wongyuseokie for @svthub! this work is dedicated to the wonderful, the lovely, the hilarious @highvern! i hope you like it, babes!! sending you loads of love this valentine's day and thousands of kisses, mwah! i had loads of fun writing this and am happy to be a part of this collab, hehe. also thank you @ourdawnishotterthanourday for betaing, ily! <3
“I’m giving you one chance to get out of here,” you say, holding open the door. Wonwoo doesn’t move.  “Who says I’m the one who has to go? You’re obviously the worse baker.”  Oh, he is truly playing with you right now. You let the door fall shut, eyes squeezed as you stare at him. “Fine. Then it’ll be me and you, buddy.” “I guess so,” he pauses, eyebrow raising, “and I’m not your buddy.”
smut warnings: minimal degradation (usage of the word “slut”), praising, pet names (princess, sweetheart, darling, pretty girl) oral (f. receiving), begging, softdom!wonwoo, unprotected sex (you know the drill - wrap it before you tap it, folks!), creampie (get it… cream…pie? cookies & cre- ok i’m sorry).
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There are approximately seven thousand three hundred and twenty eight places you would rather be than here. 
Nothing has helped you get out of this unfortunate situation. No pleading, no begging, not even wanting to send Seungkwan in your stead. Professor Yoon had been adamant in his decision to send you and him to this god forsaken home eco kitchen to bake the badge of cookies for the Valentine’s day sale. 
“It’s not even a real holiday!” you had whined to Seungkwan, “if it were, we wouldn’t even be at class in the first place!” 
All your best friend did was rub your back and tell you it was all gonna be fine, all while writing a text to Vernon on his phone in his other hand. He was used to your antics when it came to Jeon Wonwoo. Everyone was, at this point. Both of you had not made it hard to get used to - just by the amount of times you had decided to fight and dive right into rivalry when there was no reason to. Perhaps, he thought, it wasn’t even a bad idea to put you two in one room together for several hours with no one else. It could give you time to talk out your differences. Call for a truce. Screw the anger out of each other. Anything that would make Seungkwan’s life easier. 
That day comes sooner than you wanted it to, and while your hand lays on the handle of the car door, you feel the uneasiness inside you raise. 
“I can’t do this, Seungkwan. One of us is gonna end up dead.”
“Yeah, my money’s on Wonwoo. Please don’t disappoint me.” Seungkwan hums back, hands on the steering wheel and his eyebrows raised. You turn around, your mouth slightly agape before scoffing and opening the door.
“Pick me up at 4?” you ask and your best friend nods, waving at you once the door is closed. He truly hopes neither of you ends up dead (but if push comes to shove, obviously Wonwoo because then Vernon would owe him 5 bucks). 
Professor Yoon had told you that all necessities would be at the university and that you wouldn’t have to bring anything except for a good mood, something you didn’t dare to say was impossible in the given situation. 
You aren’t stupid (Wonwoo would beg to differ), you are well aware that your professor is trying to end whatever war you and Wonwoo have going on by pairing you up for this. And while you get the sentiment and might even appreciate it a little - you’re more than sure that nothing will ever come out of this - Wonwoo and you despise each other. It has been like this since your first semester and it most definitely wasn’t going to change over something as trivial as baking cookies together. 
The home eco’s kitchen is in the basement of the economics building and you are happy to notice you’re the first to arrive. Smiling to yourself, you fish the key to the room out of your bag and unlock the door, walking in and turning on the lights. 
The kitchen is spacious and modern, everything is made out of gray steel, with a few dark wood accents on the cupboards. You spot the boxes with ingredients on the island, and place your bag next to it before unpacking the things provided for you and Wonwoo. It becomes your mission to arrange the cookbook with the recipe in the center of the right side of the island, gathering all the needed ingredients around it in the order you would need it. Then, you search the cupboards for a big bowl, wooden spoon and a mixer. 
You have gathered almost everything except for the mixer, spotting it in one of the higher cupboards you most definitely can’t reach without some sort of help. Biting down on your lip and gnawing on it, you look around the room, coming up empty. There are chairs in the room next to the kitchen, but you don’t have the key for it. With a sigh, you stretch yourself as much as you possibly can, hand reaching for the kitchen gadget - with no luck. Just when you’re about to climb on top of the counter, you feel something shift behind you, a body suddenly pressed against yours and an arm reaching up to grab the mixer for you without any trouble at all. 
Wonwoo. Your body stiffens at his touch and only relaxes once he backs off, putting the mixer down next to the other stuff. Immediately you turn around, your eyes glaring at him.
“Someone decided to show up, after all.” You spit at him and he rolls his eyes. 
“I was forced, if you must know.” He says not even looking at you. His eyes are focused on the ingredients on the counter, his lips slowly drawing into a smug smile.
“Control freak much?” 
Your head burns and you scoff, walking over to the door and feeling his eyes on you as you move. 
“I’m giving you one chance to get out of here,” you say, holding open the door. Wonwoo doesn’t move. 
“Who says I’m the one who has to go? You’re obviously the worse baker.” 
Oh, he is truly playing with you right now. You let the door fall shut, eyes squeezed as you stare at him.
“Fine. Then it’ll be me and you, buddy.”
“I guess so,” he pauses, eyebrow raising, “and I’m not your buddy.”
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For the most part the two of you are quiet. Mainly because you don’t have anything to say to each other. You split the ingredients evenly (either one of you starting with their own batch since there is a whole lot of cookies to bake) and begin working on opposite ends of the kitchen. You get through the first batch without so much as exchanging looks. You do your thing and he does his. Only, when you get the first batch out, you ask him to hand you the oven mittens, which he does without any fuss. You’re surprised but don’t say it. 
It’s when the both of you start to work on your second batches that things… change.
You hate to admit the tension in the room. In fact, you’ve been hating it since the first day you’ve met him. It’s a shame he’s so hot when he’s the absolute bane of your existence. Your friends (mainly Seungkwan, really) tease you about your obvious attraction to the man you call your archnemesis every chance they get, causing you to flip them off, or scoff, or just roll your eyes at how extremely wrong they are. If you could change it, you would! Finding him attractive whilst hating him truly is exhausting. 
Slowly, you let yourself turn around in hopes he doesn’t notice. Thankfully, he is entirely focused on sprinkling chocolate chips into the cookies - white chocolate chips. You let out a gasp and your wooden spoon falls onto the top of the counter you’re working on.
“That’s cheating!” You shout, pointing at the package of sweets that he so obviously brought himself. What a jerk!
Not even looking at you, Wonwoo chuckles at your words, placing the chocolate chips next to him and wiping his hands on the apron he had put on earlier. Then, he turns to you, hip leaning against the counter, arms crossed and his eyebrows raised as he smirks like the douchebag you know he is.
“Cheating, yeah?” He repeats, licking his lips, “not sure it counts as cheating when it was clear from the beginning I would make better cookies, sweetheart.”
His condescending way of talking to you has always succeeded in making your blood boil, just like right now. You scoff, shaking your head and cleaning your own hands with a kitchen towel to your left.
“You know, considering these are for the day of love it is quite ironic Professor Yoon paired me with you, the person I hate the most.” You present Wonwoo with a honey dripping smile that couldn’t be more fake. Wonwoo doesn’t waver though. He just continues to smirk, his eyebrows shooting up even more, and before you know it he starts walking towards you, a click of his tongue almost making you flinch.
“See, love and hate are like siblings. While on the surface they couldn’t be more different, in their core they are irritatingly similar,” his voice is deep and his eyes are right there on yours and somehow you feel like he has taken away your ability to breathe. What the hell is he doing?
“You were always fascinating to me, darling. Always so sure of your opinion, never wavering. That first day we met, do you remember? How you were on my ass for the rest of the day because Professor Cha liked my answer better than yours?”
“He did not!” You shoot back, surprised by your own whiny tone. Looking at Wonwoo’s face, the defined jawline and cheekbones, the round specs on top of his nose and the brown soft curls falling into his forehead, you immediately regret speaking up at all. There is something in his eyes now, something you have never seen before  - at least not on him. Something inside of him shifted, like a switch that had been flipped, and the way he looks at you makes all of your skin erupt in goosebumps. 
“Ah, so I imagined things?” Wonwoo only so much as whispers, his large frame coming even closer, “Are you saying I’m a liar, pretty girl?”
Pretty girl. What the fuck? Your eyes widen and you feel your throat closing up. Absolutely not, you could not freeze right now! He was testing you, seeing how far he could go before you actually fell for whatever he was trying to do. Gathering all your confidence, you bring your hands up to place them on his chest and softly push him away. It gives you extreme satisfaction when you see the surprise on his face.
“And if I am? What are you going to do about it, Wonwoo?” Your smile turns smug and the little vein on Wonwoo’s forehead pops out just slightly. About to retrieve your arms, you are met with his hands around your wrists and his body even closer to yours. 
To say he catches you by surprise would be an understatement. Your lower back is pressed against the counter, your hands in his grip and your lungs missing the necessary air to not get dizzy. Why does he smell so good? You catch yourself thinking thoughts you normally would try to suppress at any given time - especially when Wonwoo is right in front of you. This time, though, there is no escaping. Not with him so close, not with him staring right into your soul.
“I have learned one thing over the years we’ve known each other, Y/N,” he breathes, eyes not leaving your face, “you can be a real fucking brat.”
The gasp you want to let out gets stuck in your throat. Instead, something like a choke comes out, something that makes Wonwoo smirk and your legs weak.
“You really think you’re sly. Do you honestly believe I don’t know how attractive you find me? How you need to look away everytime I come in wearing tighter shirts or pants that hang low enough to see the waistband of my underwear? You always try to act like you hate me and, you know what, maybe you do, but what I said earlier isn’t wrong, darling, love and hate are like yin and yang - they can’t exist without the other.”
He has your wrists in a strong grip and his lower body is now pressed against yours, something you never realized you craved. Feeling his growing erection against you, knowing he is turned on by you, by the situation, you feel like your head is about to explode. 
“So, what if I tell you that maybe I don’t actually hate you, but I actually find you attractive as well? What if I tell you nine out of ten times I want to shut your annoying mouth up by shoving my cock right down your tight throat? Or how whenever you bend over your desk to tell someone something you, of course, know better than them, I want to take you just like that and make everyone see just how much of a desperate pretty slut you actually are?”
You’re done for. With every word he’s saying, you can feel yourself actually becoming what he says you are. Desperate. The heat between your legs has turned into liquid in your panties, has turned into your heart beating at triple speed. 
“Y-You can’t just say that!” You stutter, knowing full well he will just laugh at you. And he does. He laughs and he throws his head back and then he looks at you again, his eyes glinting with want that only gets emphasized by the hard cock pressing against you. 
“Oh, sweet, sweet baby. Of course, I can,” he hums, finally letting go of one of your wrists to carefully tug a strand of hair behind your ear, “you’re so beautiful, especially when you’re flustered.” 
He must be playing with you. It has to be one of his games. He wants you to give in, wants you to fall for this only to hold it over your head for the rest of your college life. His mixture of dominance and sweetness is about to give you whiplash, especially when he begins to caress your cheek and leans down, his breath hitting your cheek. 
“We need to finish those cookies, Wonwoo.” The words are whispered and almost inaudible, but he hears you and he smiles.
“We’re alone in this basement, sweetheart. We’ve got all day to finish those cookies.” His hand wanders down, finding its place on your hip. You shiver slightly, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips and when his nose bumps against yours, something tells you that maybe he is serious. 
When he kisses you, you figure that something is correct. What’s supposed to start soft turns into something deep, and hot, and uncontrolled, right off the bat. Kissing Wonwoo feels like the only thing you had ever missed out on in life and now you finally got the chance to take what belongs to you. His lips are soft and his tongue is warm, pressing against yours and entangling it in a dance of fire. Your hands are in his hair and his are on your hips and you’re sitting on top of the counter with all of your ingredients pushed to the side, your wooden spoon falling to the floor when Wonwoo lifts you up. 
As if on instinct, your legs wrap around him and you moan against his lips when his hands move up, groping your breasts through your shirt. He licks into your mouth, your fingers digging into his nape, nails dragging along his skin. 
If you could see into Wonwoo’s brain you might have gotten scared. Not because he’s thinking actual scary thoughts but because of how many times he has imagined this. You’re always there, somewhere in his brain, your smile, your eyes, your laugh. And when he’s alone and can’t sleep you’re there too, but this time it’s how he thinks you’d sound when he’s inside of you, when he sucks on your neck and squeezes your tits. There hasn’t been a day since he met you that he hadn’t thought about you. 
It’s a shame you immediately called him out to be your academic rival on that day because all Wonwoo wanted to do back then was to make you his girlfriend, basically falling in love with you at first sight. As cliché as it sounds, it’s even more cliché considering he just played along with you, acting like he hated you, riling you up during class in ways he would rather switch for moments like this one right now. 
Never had he imagined he’d get you alone, especially considering how good you are at avoiding him. But when Professor Yoon had asked him to bake the cookies for the Valentine’s day sale - he couldn’t help but suggest you as his partner. Hours would be spent together in a kitchen, hours you had to spend with him. 
He loves how right he was. How right he was about you giving in, about you finding him hot, about you wanting him. He loves the sounds you make when he begins kissing down your neck and when his hand wanders under your shirt and shoves away your bra to touch the breasts he had been dreaming about. He sucks marks onto your neck and feels himself grow harder with every passing second. There is nowhere on this earth he’d rather be than right here, between your legs. 
“Been dying to do this, you know?” He mumbles against your neck, licking up to your earlobe and twitching in his pants when he feels you shivering under his touch.
“R-Really?” You whimper back and Wonwoo nods, both hands moving to your cheeks, lips back on yours in a heated, passionate kiss. He thinks that nothing will ever feel as good as kissing you. 
“Yeah, baby, wanted to kiss you forever, fuck,” he moans when your fingers move underneath his shirt, when you touch his bare skin and all of him begins to burn.
“Wanted to touch you, taste you.” His words echo in your mind and you open your eyes, a horny daze in them that makes Wonwoo question his sanity. He moves down now, kissing your neck again and shoving your shirt up to kiss your stomach and breasts over your bra, nimble fingers opening the apron you had laced around your hips earlier. 
“Can I taste you, pretty girl?” He asks then and you think you nod, at least you want to nod, but your head is clouded and you feel like you’re about to pass out. When he moves to get the apron off of you, focussing on opening your pants next, you figure you did in the end. 
Having you half naked in front of him makes Wonwoo feel like he has reached the gates of heaven. Your pants are on the floor and your chest is heaving, eyes glossy as you watch Wonwoo move to the floor, his tall body still reaching the top of the counter when he kneels in front of you. He moves his arms, wrapping them around your thighs and pulling you closer, his nose tapping against your sensitive core the next second. With a gasp, your hands reach for his head of hair, grounding yourself in it as you stare down at the way he eyes your pussy as if he had never seen anything more delicious in his life. 
When he moves your panties to the side, his finger softly gliding over your folds, you feel yourself shiver once more. You let out another whimper, biting down on your lip that feels hot and a little bruised after the way Wonwoo had kissed you. 
“God, I can’t even tell you how many nights I’ve dreamt of this moment.” He kisses the inside of your thighs, making you moan quietly, fingers coating themselves in your juices, ready to please you. 
Watching him is messing with your head in the best way possible. The way he looks at you, so full of endearment and adoration. How he touches you as if you’d break if he touched you too vehemently. He lets his tongue glide over your skin, moving until it reaches your dripping cunt, licking over your lips, tasting you for the first time. The moan he lets out has you digging your nails into his scalp, mouth dropped as you continue to stare down, continue to watch Wonwoo, your archnemesis, begin to devour your pussy like a Michelin star dish. 
He starts off slow, licking over your folds, not touching your clit even once. If he died right now, he’d be content. Tasting you, hearing your sounds when you’re aroused, him being the cause of it - it’s almost all of his dreams coming true. His fingers move, one of them circling your entrance, your whines growing louder by the second. You want his fingers inside of you, you need them inside of you. Wiggling your hips against him, Wonwoo chuckles at your antics and finally moves his finger, inch by inch sinking into your needy hole, your eyes squeezing shut as you clench around him. 
“So, so eager, princess,” he mumbles against your pussy, another breathy laugh causing you to thrust forward, his finger now completely inside of you. And, fuck, do you feel wonderful. So much better than anything Wonwoo had experienced before, better than anything he could have imagined. Perhaps, he figures, it’s because it’s you. 
Next thing you know, Wonwoo’s lips are around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, tongue flicking against it and leaving you to moan his name time and time again. Your hips move against him and he lets you, his cock straining against his pants in desperate need for attention. But not yet, he isn’t done with you. First, you’d have to come undone on his tongue and his fingers, first you had to scream his name as you experienced complete and utter satisfaction. Wonwoo does everything in his power for that to happen. He adds another finger and fucks you open, his long fingers meeting your sweet spot with every thrust as if he had studied your body for hundreds of hours. His tongue does the work of a god, his lips kiss you like you had never known you needed to be kissed, especially down there. 
“D-Don’t stop! Oh, fuck, Wonwoo!” You cry out, your head thrown back as you focus on nothing but your pleasure, on how he feels on your pussy, how it all is too much and yet not enough. You think about what’s to come, about how he will fuck you next, will sink into you with his cock, will make you feel like you’re the most precious woman on this planet. Even more than he already does. Your high is nearing, it’s so close you can feel it right there in front of you, that tight knot in your stomach about to break free and give you one of the most intense orgasms of your life. 
“Cum for me, baby. Fuck, I want you to cum on my tongue.” Wonwoo’s words are like magic, like a spell that he puts on you. A lewd whine escapes your throat and you do as he wishes, cumming all over his tongue and fingers, your juices drenching his face. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his face, anticipation filling him when he finally parts from you. 
Immediately, you pull down to kiss him when he stands. Tasting yourself on his lips with your hands opening his apron and getting it off his tall frame with his help, you can’t wait to get even closer to him. You slip out of your panties with his lips steadily on yours, a faint sound in your ears when they hit the floor.
“Need you so bad, Wonwoo, please hurry,” you cry out and he laughs, kissing your neck and your cheek, his hands opening his belt, zipper and button, shoving his pants down only for you to gasp at the sheer size of his bulge. He grins, hands back on your face to make sure you’re looking at him.
“Naughty, aren’t you? My perfect, pretty slut,” he kisses your lips again and your eyes roll back, your pussy throbbing in want. And obviously he knows how much you want him - he wants you just the same. As he continues to kiss you, he moves to pull his briefs down, his hard erection springing free, angry tip red and smeared with pre, oh-so ready to sink into your warm embrace. You part from him, eyes now setting on his cock, your mouth watering at the sight. 
“Fuck, you’re big,” you say, swallowing down the saliva pooling in your mouth. Wonwoo only grins wider, his big hands finding purchase on your hips as he leans down again. 
“Beg a little for it, baby, and you might get it.” You shiver and bite down on your lip, your hands wandering over his still clothed torso and down to his cock, slowly wrapping your hand around it.
“Please, Wonwoo, please fuck me…,” is your whispered plead, and the man standing in between your legs groans against your neck, sucking yet another mark into your delicate skin before nodding and grabbing his cock out of your hand, lining it up perfectly with your entrance and slowly sinking in.
His forehead is leaned against yours when he bottoms out and his hands caress your head, coming to a stop on your nape. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, kissing the tip of your nose and you smile, giving the tip of his nose a kiss back. Then, he parts from you and the look in his eyes changes from soft to dark. He does his first thrust, catching you off guard, a loud moan escaping you. Your hands grab onto his shoulders as he continues his thrusts, fucking you deep and hard, his eyes focused on your face that contours in absolute bliss. When he said you’re beautiful, he meant it. 
He is holding onto your hips again, pulling you as close to him as he can, his hips chasing yours, his cock in the deepest bits of your pussy, your gummy walls squeezing him for his pleasure. There is nothing you can do besides begging him to go faster, begging him to not ever stop and crying his name when he leans down to suck on your hard nipple over your shirt. 
“Wonwoo! Fuck!” You clench over and over again, stars dancing in front of your eyes accompanied by beautiful lights that slowly but surely turn into fireworks. With every thrust of his hips, you feel yourself coming closer to the edge again. You want him to fill you, want him to claim you as his, make you feel full of him and only him. Nails are digging into his shoulders, your head falling back against the kitchen cabinet, his groans and the beautiful sound of your name coming out of his mouth chasing you off the cliff and into the warm waters of yet another intense orgasm. 
“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, oh- Wonwoo!” It’s done, you are done, your climax hitting you hard and making you gush all over his length that is still so deeply buried inside your sensitive cunt. Wonwoo moans, feeling your pussy clench around him, squeeze him, beg him to cum, to decorate you in his shades of white. And he wants to, god, there is nothing he had ever wanted more. His breathing becomes labored and he leans forward, engulfing you in yet another heated kiss, one arm wrapped around you, the other letting its hand rest on your cheek, thumb caressing your chin as his tongue flicks against yours over and over, mixed with his breathless moans. 
When you squeeze him the next time, he erupts. He moans your name, hips becoming frantic as he shoots his load into you, spurts of white and hot cum filling your spent pussy, your and his combined releases dripping down your thighs even as he fucks his cum so, so deep into you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants against your mouth, continuing to kiss you right after, riding out his orgasm and only stopping when you’re both completely out of breath. 
It’s silent for a few moments, the only thing audible your almost synchronized breathing. Your hands are still on his shoulders, his hands are still on your waist and your cheek. His face is buried in the crook of your neck and he softly kisses your sweaty skin, nothing but pure happiness running through him at this point. He softly caresses your face as he leans back again, his eyes searching for yours. 
“Y/N,” he then breathes, a small and maybe even shy smile playing on his lips.
“Wonwoo,” you sigh back, pulling him into a hug that he accepts with a laugh, both his arms now fully wrapped around your body. He’s still inside of you and only leaves you when you part from the hug, more of his release now dripping out of your core. He doesn’t ask whether you’re on birth control because for all he cares he would love to have you pregnant with his child. The thought alone makes his head spin. 
“Well,” he begins, a smug smile on his face as he leans down to pick up your panties, “that definitely gives ‘cookies and cream’ a different meaning.” 
You stare at him, slightly bewildered, for around three seconds before you burst into laughter, grabbing your underwear from him and jumping back onto your shaky feet. “You’re horrible,” you say and shake your head and Wonwoo’s smile grows even wider.
“Maybe. But I promise you, sweetheart, I’ll never ever be horrible to you again.”
“Oh, we’ll see about that, Mr. Know-It-All,” you smile and give his cheek a peck that he reacts to by turning bright red. 
It is in that exact moment you realize Wonwoo was never your archnemesis. Nor has he ever been as much of an ass as you had made him out to be. Jeon Wonwoo is nothing but a loser who’s been in love with you since the very first day you met him, and perhaps you had always known. Perhaps you finally let yourself realize right now, the moment after he had cum inside of you and still blushes like a little kid when you kiss his cheek, that the only reason you had chosen him to be your rival was to run away from how much you knew you’d fall for him if you didn’t. 
“Come on, let’s do what we actually came here for.”
And for the rest of the day you and Wonwoo bake the cookies for the sale and talk about what your plans are for Valentine’s. To no surprise those plans immediately involve hanging out together. Maybe, you think, to give ‘cookies and cream’ that new meaning over and over again. 
1K notes · View notes
shaguro · 3 months
Text
— ✰ NEVER LOSE ME | CONNIE S.
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✧synposis: connie loves to visit his favorite girl after his races.
✧contents: smut with a lil plot. (streetracer!connie x stripper reader, reader is black. (she has a fro but no other physical descriptions are given besides that.) unestablished relationship. unprotected sex (p in v) breeding kink?? unrequited feelings but not really. reader is just young, sexy and free; just having fun. 🩷 very inspired by the song by flo milli, doesn't follow that exact plot though! mdni.
✧word count: 1.6k.
✧shanti’s note: chile… i made three different drafts before i settled on this one, okay! so it was definitely a major work in progress for a while but we made it yall! i'm so nervous about this one for some reason, can't pinpoint why. anywho, i hope y'all enjoy it. forgot to answer the ask but THANK YOU for the ask anon, and i hope you enjoy it 🩷
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all the other dancers wondered how you managed to bag the connie springer, a well-known street racer in your area. he was a loyal client. always respectful, tipped well — not to mention, he’s fine as fuck. connie always came to see you after one of his many winning races, ready to shower you in affection and with money he just won. so just like the other times, you’re in one of the private rooms in the strip club; the pink led lights illuminated your soft skin, showcasing all the dips and curves of your beautiful body.
“it’s because of you, baby.” connie licks his lips, tattooed hands rested on the fattest part of your ass, only separated by the thin fabric of your thong. “you’re the reason i never lose.”
“oh please.” you kiss your teeth. with your hands on his knees, you lean forward to give him the view you knew he loved. “you say that shit every time you come see me. we both know it’s not true, so stop it.”
now it was his turn to suck his teeth, his hand meeting your ass with a hard smack! you gasp and almost jolt forward but connie’s hand is on your throat, pulling you backwards until your bare back is against his chest. you tilt your head to meet those pretty hazel eyes and god, his glare was so intense it actually made you nervous.
and it had your pussy fluttering, clenching on nothing.
“i say it ‘cuz i mean it.” his free hand trails up your thigh, stopping dangerously close to your core. he chuckles when you spread your legs, watching your reflection intently in the tall mirror. “didn’t even do anything yet and look, already openin’ up f’me.”
this sort of interaction should not be happening between a dancer and a client, you knew that — when it came to connie though, he was the only exception. maybe it was because you felt like he saw you, went out of his way to have an actual relationship with you. connie wanted you to be his girlfriend but you always refused. you were too sexy, too carefree to be tied down by anyone, especially a man.
it would be a lie to say you didn’t enjoy the man’s company though; you two had gotten close, close enough that you’d link up outside the club. late nights spent in his customized red wraith, hanging out the window as the cool evening breeze hit you. connie would buy you all kinds of jewelry and the biggest bouquets of red roses you’d ever seen. take you out on dates, even flew you out once. but you were just having fun and that didn’t mean you needed to be with him.
in moments like this, though? you considered that possibility a little more.
“connie, mmm.” you moaned, his nimble fingers rubbing at your barely-clothed clit. there’s something about his touch that electrifies your whole body, your hips rolling, seeking more friction. “my b-boss might pop in, we shouldn’t..”
connie hums in acknowledgment, his wet tongue tracing along your neck. “i don’t give a fuck and you know that.” indeed, you did. “she was on your ass last time?”
the last time your boss had walked in, connie had you on your back, legs spread wide as he ate you out like a man starved. it was embarrassing, even connie couldn’t save you from the lengthy lecture you received. you don’t remember every single thing your boss said but she made one rule very clear: no fucking in her strip club.
you were a fan favorite so she wouldn’t get rid of you, even if you had a tendency to bend the rules.
“she was.” you sigh, leaning your head back on his shoulder. one of your hands were on his head, feeling on his blonde buzzcut while his lips latched onto delicate skin. “i don’t give a fuck either.”
his chuckle vibrated through your skin, sent shivers up your spine. you knew he’d just left a mark with the way his tongue swept over the damage, another trace of him that would need extra concealer.
“how much time do we have left, pretty?”
you look up to the bedazzled glittery clock on the wall, squinting your eyes to see it better. “hmm.. like twenty minutes?”
connie scoffed. “i’ll make you cum in ten.”
all that could be heard in the dimly-lit room were the sounds of your sweet cries as your ass ricocheted off connie’s pelvis, the steady clap clap clap so loud in your ears. you were on all fours with connie right behind you. he had one hand cupped on your jaw, keeping your head upright and the other on the fat of your hip — digging crescents into your soft skin with each snap of his hips.
“open your eyes, baby. look and see how pretty you look.” he gives your jaw a light squeeze and you comply, slowly opening your lashed eyelids to observe yourself, to drink in the mess he’s made of you.
your brown curly fro ruffled and scattered, drool trickling from your open mouth with one hand on the crystal mirror to brace yourself. you swore your eyes had crossed from the overwhelming pleasure you felt and he was so deep — damn near touching your lungs, knocking all the air out of them.
and then connie is leaning forward, his breath ghosting your ear. “see? so pretty.” this was anything but an innocent statement. connie took pride in having you like this — completely dumb off his dick to the point that all you could do is beg, whine for more and he’d never hold back. he’d give it all to you.
not only his dick but he’d give his whole heart too, the whole damn world if it meant he’d never lose you.
“c-connie, ohhfuck.” you mewl, your free hand is reaching behind you, scrambling to find his arm to claw at or anything to steady yourself with. “so deep, i c-can’t—“
“you can, baby.” he coos. connie holds your arm and to your horror, bends it to a degree at the small of your back, keeping it in place. his pace never falters, grinding into that swollen spot inside you so deliciously, you couldn’t breathe — any attempts at sound caught in your throat.
“always take me so well—fuck.” connie lets out a moan so erotic, your pussy clenches involuntarily around him. “l-love this fuckin’ pussy.”
your eyelids felt so heavy as you looked at connie’s reflection in the mirror, admiring the handsome man that tore you up with ease. his head is tilted down with his bottom lip captured between his top row of pretty white teeth, eyes trained on where your bodies connected. he was mesmerized at how you swallowed all his dick so greedily, sinking deeper and deeper as you fucked back into him, a white milky ring of cream forming on the base of his length — it was truly a sight like no other.
“want you to myself,” connie grits out, landing a quick slap on your ass, rubbing the tender flesh right after to soothe the sting. “c-can’t lose you, (y/n)—hah—can’t let anyone else h-have you.”
“c-connie, you—“
“tell me,” he interrupts and his eyes meet yours in the glass, all low and dark, full of passion. “tell me you’re mine, that this—” his hand trails down the arched curve of your back, it was like fire trailed behind his fingertips. “—is all for me, only for me.”
you nod dumbly, not even realizing what you’re saying, your voice only a whisper. “y-yes, it’s y-yours.”
connie shakes his head and leans forward once again, this time with a sharp thrust into your soppy cunt, filling you to the hilt. you gasp and you can’t stop your eyes from rolling into your skull, from crying out his name.
“gotta be louder than that, pretty. say it one more time f’me?” he’s pressing wet kisses along your jaw and neck, clouding your focus even further. you could feel his dick pulsing inside you, stretching you out so perfectly. you wouldn’t mind staying like this forever, letting him ruin you till the end of time.
“i-it’s—“ you inhale, a deep shaky breath. “it’s all yours, connie. this p-pussy is yours, so fuck me like you m-mean it.”
it’s like as soon as you say those words, a switch flips in connie’s brain.
instead of straightening his posture, his chest is flush against your back, the gold chain on his neck dangling over your shoulder as he starts to rut his hips into you with no precision. and it’s so filthy, your poor cunt squishing and squelching sporadically, warm milky slick trickling down your thighs.
“gonna—nghh, gonna fuckin’ cum.” his voice raised an octave, all slurred and whiney. “where… where d-do you want it, baby?”
he was expecting to hear your ass or your back, maybe even your face if you were feeling extra nasty. nothing prepared him for that pretty whine you let out prior to saying,
“inside! want it inside con, wanna feel it..” you give him the cutest pout and all he could think was fuck, you would really be the death of him.
only a few moments passed before you got what you wanted — connie’s hot, sticky cum paints your inner walls generously and it’s so much, each rock of his hips had the fluid gushing out of you. it sends you right over the edge. your legs give out, the sheer force of your orgasm had you trembling, limp in connie’s strong arms. you glanced tiredly at the ticking clock one last time and damn, he really did make you cum in ten minutes.
there was no time to recover because as you two were on the floor, tangled and sweaty, still out of breath — your boss slams the door open, her face screwed with anger.
“both of y’all, get the fuck out!”
but you didn’t care, not at all. this just meant you'd have another one of those nights, music blasting from those booming speakers as connie sped down the freeway, his hand on your thigh when he'd repeat those six words without fail, "i never want to lose you."
tonight, you decided that he wouldn't.
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the hoe house: @rintcrous @90ekz @honeybleed @nysrage @vixensajntz @hyunip @zuriayan @tishlvr @black-yn @loccka6 @chile-im-embarrassed @dxddykenn @sheluvzeren @viisgrave @xocherishxo @vipprincessblog @prettypixigrl @sugxrbxbyqueen @fuyuswifey @iikatsukii @pinkprintzz @astrokatsuki @qupidology @smolchubbygoddess @juicepouchhh @saraiitrue | @bleach-your-panties @chrollohearttags @ramonathinks @blkwriters @ichigosluvrr
join the house here. ♡
@/hoesluvshanti, 2023-2024. do not copy, steal or repost my content without permission.
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strawberrysturniolo · 4 months
Note
SMUT WITH DEALER!CHRIS!!! YUHHH
hot and bothered // dealer!chris
veryyyyyy smutty summary: smoking with your dealer, chris, which turns into car sex
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“Three grams should be fine.”
I don’t know shit about weed, yet here I am trying to negotiate the only cash I have with a random guy my friend knows. If I could look ahead of time and see myself standing here with my hands tucked in my sweatshirt pockets, kicking my feet around nervously as I wait for the dealer’s response, I would jump through the time warp and punch myself in the face. 
“We’ve never met,” he notices, and I nod. “Do you smoke, or are you trying to start?”
I rub my lips together, trying to think. I never smoked before this. Well, a few times, but it was never something I did regularly. I didn’t have a reason not to, I just didn’t really care about it. My reason for starting now is pathetic. Even I know that. 
Chris raises his eyebrows at me, eliciting a response to the question I never answered. 
“You’re supposed to say deal and take my money. I’m keeping your business alive. Why do you care what I need the weed for?”
I realize the snippy tone I had shoved in his face, and I take a small step back, accepting defeat. This is getting ridiculous. I just want some fucking weed. 
Chris scoffs, shifting the bag of weed from one hand to his other. “I was asking because I don’t want to fucking sell some lightweight girl weed that’s gonna make her spiral, so forgive me for asking. I don’t have to give you anything, you know? I have no problem turning down a deal.”
I watch as he shoves his hands with what I thought were going to be my belongings back into his pocket. My eyes widen, and I shake my head, trying to stop him.
“I’m just stressed out,” I confess, part of the truth. “I don’t like drinking, and I wanted to see if smoking would help.”
Chris pulls his hands back from his pockets, taking my cash and tucking it in his pants. “Wanna talk about it?”
I shake my head, my eyes following his hands, wondering if he just scammed me. He never hands me my purchase, he just watches me. 
“You sure?” 
A sigh leaves my throat, and before I even realize, my lips are moving and I’m spilling details about myself to him.
“I’m just dealing with a lot of stuff and–”
“It’s an extra 20 bucks for therapy.”
I roll my eyes. “Fuck off and give me my weed.”
He steps back before I can snatch anything from him. “I will gladly give your money back if I decide I shouldn’t give you anything because of why you want drugs. I’m only keeping the cash and the weed while we talk because you’re so desperate to spark up that I’m sure I could throw the bag and you’d run after it like a dog playing fetch.” He pats his hands on his thighs and widens his eyes at me, using a sort of baby voice as he says, “Who’s a good girl?” like I’m a fucking puppy. 
“My boyfriend dumped me and I’m fucking depressed. My friend said weed would help take the edge off so I’m not a mess all the time, not that it’s any of your business.” The words start spewing out of my mouth. “Also, it’s weed, not heroin.” 
He nods slowly, bringing his hand out of his pocket with a ziploc bag of weed. “Here.” I take the bag before he can retract his arm. “If you wanna talk at all, you can. Maybe I’ll lower my therapy price for you.”
I roll my eyes and start walking back to my car before turning around and calling out, “I never asked why you deal, so why do you care what I do with weed?”
He grins before he spins around on his feet and heads in the opposite direction. “Touche!” 
I’ve been buying from Chris for weeks now. We meet up every so often, and when I run out of money, he suggests we smoke together so I can get the high I’m chasing without spending money. 
The last few hours have been spent aimlessly scrolling through my phone, trying to distract myself from everything. I had completely forgotten about my plans for tonight until a message dropped from the top of my screen. 
Hot dealer: Outside
“Shit,” I mutter to myself, pulling on a sweatshirt and shoes as I stumble out the door. I like his message as I make my way down so he knows I’m coming, and I nod my head to my roommate, silently saying goodbye while she watches a movie. 
It’s not too cold in California tonight, but the shift of staying in my room all day under my covers sends chills down my layered body when I step outside. Even though Chris can see me, he tosses his hands up and lays his hand on the horn a few times. 
“I’m right here, dickhead!”
He reaches over the center console and shoves my door open. “Well, I’m fucking hungry! Hurry the fuck up.”
I sit in the passenger seat and kick my shoes off immediately, and I watch Chris shake his head in disapproval as he throws the car into drive and peels off my street. 
“Why do you do that shit?” he asks in an annoyed tone. I turn to him to argue back, but he beats me to it. “You get your smelly ass feet in here and lift them on the dash and the air blows right on them and then it fucking smells.” 
“You’re dramatic as fuck. That’s not even true.” 
He ignores me. “What do you want to eat?”
“Taco Bell.”
He nods. “Who’s buying?”
What a gentleman. 
“I am,” I tell him. He grins. “I’m buying if it means you let me smoke your weed.”
He looks over his shoulder as he jerks the wheel to the left. “You’re just using me.”
“We use each other,” I remind him. “We do drugs and then we fuck. I get high, and you get laid. Everyone wins.”
This has been a fair trade since the start. I ran out of money and Chris made a move on me, one that I couldn’t turn down. I wanted him bad. I needed him. I can’t explain what we have. Maybe it’s friends with benefits. We don’t even feel like friends. It’s more of a business transaction. 
Sometimes I wonder what my feelings for Chris really are. He’s a really good looking guy. I’ve never denied that. The last thing I want right now is a relationship. The very last thing would be to be with someone who isn’t my ex. Me and Chris will only ever fuck. I have no interest in having my heart broken, and he has no interest in committing to one girl. 
My mind is everywhere else when he orders us food. I don’t even realize we’ve left Taco Bell until the sound of the bag hitting my lap snaps me out of my trance. 
“Come on, eat,” he says like an instruction. “I know you haven’t left that bed, and if I ask you if you’ve eaten in the past day, I’m scared for the answer.”
I take a bite of a taco to shut him up.
He smiles and pushes the hair out of my face. “Atta girl.” 
Once I finish my first taco, while he watches to make sure I don’t spit it out, he hands me a rolled joint like it’s a dessert.
I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god.”
He pulls a lighter out of his pocket, waiting for me to put the joint in my mouth before he leans over and lights it for me. “Don’t think you’re smoking that by yourself. I want it back when it’s halfway. You shouldn’t smoke all that by yourself.”
I’m tired of him fucking me and then trying to give me instructions like he’s my guardian. One second I’m bent over the car with his dick leaving an imprint on my insides, and the next he’s telling me I need to be eating three meals a day and drinking water. 
The first thought in my head when the burning sensation hits my throat is how pleased I am with this feeling. Everything is washing away. Everything feels right again. 
“Why did you start dealing?”
Chris looks at me with furrowed brows, muffling a, “huh?” against the taco in his mouth. The question caught him completely off guard. He chews, swallows, then says, “Um, I needed the money, and I liked smoking. It’s literally as simple as that.”
There’s a point to all of this that I never really thought of or cared about until now. 
“Why did you try to stop me from buying from you when I said I was sad and wanted an escape.”
He finishes his taco off, then looks straight ahead, avoiding me while he answers my burning question. 
“I guess I was just dealing with a lot when I tried weed, and yeah it’s not a hard drug but, I couldn’t get the escape that I was looking for, so I just started trying all kinds of shit until it fucked me over,” he confesses. “You just looked so shy and scared and vulnerable, and I didn’t want to do the same thing to you just for a few extra dollars.”
“So you care about people?”
He grimaces and lets out a displeased groan. “God don’t put it like that.”
“Admit it!” I push a little further, removing the joint from between my lips and holding it with my pointer finger and my thumb. “You cared about me.”
He yanks the joint from me and lays it between his own lips. “I still do, dipshit.”
There’s a weird feeling of warmth that takes over my body. I definitely care about Chris. I just wouldn’t go as far as saying we’re anything more than acquaintances who smoke a lot and engage in other activities together while we’re high. We’ve never hooked up sober. We both know it’s a stupid idea. We only want each other when there are other elements involved, and we plan to keep it that way because it’s the only way that we make sense. 
Even though I know all of this, I can’t help but stare at him like he’s the most fascinating person I’ve ever met. 
“What are you thinking about?” he presses. I shake my head, embarrassed to think that there is any possibility I could have any sort of interest in Chris above what we have right now. “Tell me, baby.”
The nickname sends chills down my arms. I remember the first time he said that. He gave me an edible to try, and when I downed three, he said, “Okayyyyyy baby,” in a worried tone, then followed it with, “You’re staying here tonight. No way am I letting you drive home after you just dogged that shit.”
His eyes meet mine, and he chuckles. “Fuck, I love being high.” His free hand reaches for my chin, holding it between two of his fingers. “It’s like everything else just poof… vanishes. Nothing matters anymore.”
I nod, finding myself distracted with the pounding of my heart against my ribcage as his thumb strokes my cheek.
“What’s crazy is,” he continues. “Even when I’m not high, I am because I’m with you. You know?”
And I’m back.
“What?”
He doesn’t say anything else. He places the softest kiss to my lips, then takes another hit of the joint before he lets it out, turning his head back around and kissing me harder with both hands on my face. 
My mind is racing, but my hands are desperately trying to hold onto him in any way. They find the back of his neck, toying with the curls at the base of his neck. He groans against my mouth, letting me know over and over again that he loves where I am. He grows needier with his mouth, fighting his tongue against mine until our teeth are clashing. He sucks on my bottom lip, sliding the driver's seat backwards before lifting me over the center console and resting me in his lap. 
I gasp at the impact of his hard dick pressing my throbbing clit when I sit down on him. Without missing a beat, he yanks my sweatshirt off and presses his mouth on my neck, sliding the straps of my tank top down so he can kiss my collarbone with as much freedom as he desires. 
“How is every part of you so perfect?” he asks in a whisper as if I could answer that question. I would do anything to see myself in his eyes. 
“It’s not–”
“Hush.”
I can’t keep myself from rocking my hips lazily on his. Everything is so messy and done without any care other than us getting each other off. Chris’ head tips back when I slow down over his tip, finding it with ease even though we’re both clothed. 
“Ohhhh god baby,” he purrs, his eyes feathering shut as he drops his head back into my neck, nipping at my collarbone. His hands slide up my tank top, pinching my nipples.
“Fuck, Chris,” I whine. Between his hands on me and his dick rubbing against my pussy, I’ll be a goner soon. 
“Yeah? What do you want?” he teases, gripping my hips tighter and rocking me with more force.
At this point, I only grind on him harder. The friction gives me so much, yet not enough at the same time. 
When I don’t answer him, he grips my jaw. “Answer me.”
I stop moving, breathing heavier as I try to catch up with myself. “Just like this. Want you to fuck me.”
Chris' smile grows like this is all he’s waited for, but it quickly falls to a pout as he rubs his hand over my cheek. I take the chance when his thumb is poking at my lip to suck it into my mouth, letting my tongue twirl around it. 
“You know you don’t make the rules,” he reminds me. “If I fuck you in here, it’s in the backseat.”
I nod, agreeing to anything he wants if it means his dick is stretching me out. “That’s fine, just please.” 
His hand gives my ass a tap in agreement as he lightly bucks his hips up into mine. “Get in the back.” I obey, stepping out of the car and opening the back door. “Ass up,” he adds.
As soon as I’m on my hands and knees with my butt up, I hear the other back door close, and Chris’ hands on my waist follow immediately after. “Yeahhhh good girl.” He yanks my sweatpants down, leaving them around my knees. He presses wet kisses on my ass cheek before slapping over the same spot. “You’re so good for me baby, listening so well, hmm?”
“Uh huh,” I moan out as his hand strikes the spot again. 
He peels off my underwear at a painfully slow rate. I hear Chris gasp behind me, a cocky smirk so obviously on his face even though I can’t see him. His thumb rubs over my slit, spreading my arousal around. “Fuckkk, you little slut.”
“Chris, please,” I plead desperately. His thumb continues to rub over me until he pushes it inside, moving it in circular motions and waiting to hear my moans of approval. “More.”
“So greedy, aren’t you?”
I can’t stop my hips from following the motion of his hand. Every time he slides his thumb out, my ass is trying to make sure his finger doesn’t have the chance to leave my pussy. 
He replaces his thumb with two fingers, making my body go still as I get used to the feeling. A whimper leaves my lips as he starts pumping slowly, and I become a complete mess when his tongue is added.
“Chris,” I pant his name. Any and all vocabulary has been stripped from me. I’m unable to form full sentences.
His tongue flattens over my pussy before he curls the tip of it, slipping between me. He uses one hand to finger me and the other to hold my legs apart and keep them from clenching together when it becomes too much. 
“You can take it baby, I know you can,” he assures me, sounding so sweet until he adds, “If you can’t take my fingers, how are you going to take my cock in your tight pussy?”
We stay in that position for a few minutes. My knees buckle over time as the pleasure becomes too much, a ball of fire growing in my stomach. 
My hand reaches behind me and grips his wrist. “Chris–”
“Don’t you dare fucking cum,” he warns. I fall silent, hearing only the sound of the fabric covering his lower half being pushed down. I look over my shoulder, watching him stroke his hard cock. His chin is pressed to his chest, his eyes flickering between my pussy and his dick. “You’re gonna sit there and take it like a fucking good girl and wait for me, right?”
“Uh huh,” I nod breathlessly, forcing myself to keep it together despite noticing the feeling of me dripping down my own legs already. 
Seconds later, his tip is teasing my entrance, and he gives me no warning before pushing himself in. I don’t need time to adjust anymore. His body fits perfectly with mine, and before he starts thrusting at a steady pace, he leans over and rests his chest on my back, moving my hair out of the way before gently kissing the back of my neck. 
“You look so good, baby.”
I hum in response, struggling to speak when his dick buries itself deeper. He takes that sound as a sign to start thrusting into me, holding his hands at my hips and pulling me back into him, meeting him halfway. 
“Fuck, that’s it. Take my cock like that,” he mutters. There’s nothing shy about Chris, especially during sex. He’s the most out there kind of guy, always suggesting something new to keep things fun, introducing me to more things than drugs. 
I struggle to make any sound other than staggered moans and broken cries of pleasure. I need him in every way. I crave him more than any drug I’ve tried. 
I lift my ass higher as I drop my head into the seat. His hand slaps my ass, thrusting harder afterwards. 
Everything about this moment is perfect. The high I had been chasing, this with Chris, the way his dick fills me perfectly like it was made for me. 
A gasp leaves my mouth before I even realize I’m making a sound. “I’m gonna cum.”
He doesn’t respond. He picks up the pace and fills me deeper, and I grip onto the door for support. My moans are uncontrollable at this point. 
“Gonna cum in your pussy,” he mumbles. “Watch it all pour out of you.” He groans as I clench around him, my orgasm flying out of me and leading him to his. He groans as his pace slows, his thrusts becoming messier and desperate. He fills me in seconds, pulling out and jerking off so the rest lays on my ass. He moans at the sight of his cum dripping out of my pussy before he uses his tongue to clean up the mess we made. “You okay?”
I nod. He dresses himself and gets a napkin to clean the rest of our cum with. After placing one kiss to my ass cheek, he pulls my sweatpants back up. 
“I’ll buy you plan B before I drop you off,” he assures me. I’ve heard this sentence far too many times from him. He notices my silence and asks. “You sure you’re good?”
“Yeah,” I lie. “Just need to smoke some more.”
He laughs a bit then leans to the front of the car to fish out another joint. 
I know exactly what the issue is. 
I’m falling for my dealer. 
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theemporium · 2 months
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[4.1k] as it would turn out, you were serious about your offer. and luke was serious about accepting. it was just going to take a while for his body to remember that this was a glorified business deal between friends and nothing more. and he was definitely okay with that. (smut)
series masterlist
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Stupidly, Luke didn’t think you were actually serious. 
In his head, the whole thing felt like a fever dream, starting from the moment he spilled his drink all over you leading to the moment you blatantly asked him if he wanted you to take his virginity. It felt like one of those weird dreams that made you wake up confused and bleary and unsure what year it even was, one of those dreams that linger in the back of your head for a few days before you eventually forgot about it.
Luke would have bet money on the whole thing being a weird dream that was haunting him if it weren’t for the fact he woke up one morning, a few days  after the party, with a message from you on his screen. 
cherry🍒: on a scale from one to ten, how likely are you to spill your drink on me again?
cherry🍒: also my place or yours? 
He stared at the messages for an embarrassingly long time, like he was staring at the proof the whole thing wasn’t some messed up dream in his head. Luke had spent the better part of the summer wondering what would have happened if he had asked for your number that night like Jack always teased him about, and now he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself with it being a reality. 
hockey boy: i cannot promise anything 
hockey boy: you are welcome to come to my place but jack will probably be here so…
hockey boy: he’s nosy 
hockey boy: and annoying 
Luke frowned at himself, finger hovering over the messages like he would have a chance to delete them before you saw them, all one after the other like he was twelve and didn’t care about double texting. Or quadruple texting. But before he could even try to hide his own embarrassment, you were typing again.
cherry🍒: my place it is then
cherry🍒: see you at seven ;)
He also didn’t care to admit how long he stared at that message before he dragged himself out of bed, trying to ignore the odd buzz itching under his skin. It wasn’t even nine in the morning and his head was already spinning.
Luke was thankful enough that it was still preseason, that there wasn’t a game he had to prepare for because he wasn’t even sure he could concentrate on anything but your messages. He had noted Jack giving him odd looks whilst they both got ready for training, giving him more space than usual as they moved around the flat (which was odd considering Jack was usually glued to his side and pissing him off whenever he got the chance). 
However, the overbearing older brother role didn’t completely disappear. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” 
“Yes, Jack.”
“You’re not sick or anything?”
“I’m literally fine.” 
“Because we can tell the trainers—”
“Oh my god, dude,” Luke groaned, sinking further into the passenger seat as he shot his brother a look. “I’m fine. Calm down. You sound like Quinn.” 
“Sorry for caring,” Jack retorted, his fingers tightening on the wheel before his shoulders sagged. “I’m your older brother and it’s your first year in the NHL. I just wanna make sure you’re doing alright, okay? The last thing I want is you having a shit rookie year.”
But the rest went unsaid. I don’t want you having a shit rookie year like I did.
Luke softened a little. “M’fine, promise. I’ll let you know when I need my big brother, okay?” 
Jack sighed, a small smile on his face. “Okay.”
“Now, can you please shut up so I can sleep until we reach the rink?” 
Jack snorted in response. 
Though the conversation seemed to settle the worries his older brother had, Luke knew the other boys on the team were giving him the same looks of concern. It wasn’t as though he was playing badly, it was just very clear to everyone on the team—players, coaches and trainers alike—that Luke was distracted. 
He had half the decency to be a little embarrassed when he overheard Jack reassure a few trainers that it was just rookie nerves. 
But he felt restless, like he couldn’t quite keep still or focus on one thing. He felt like there was a buzz resonating through his bones, making him painfully aware of his plans later tonight. It was like an anxiety settled at the pit of his stomach, constant and foreboding and eating away at him as the minutes slowly dragged on through the day. 
It was horrible and exhilirating in the weirdest possible way.
Luke had managed to make it through the rest of training, managed to avoid any stern talkings from the coach but unable to avoid the one from Nico in the locker room. It was sweet and awkward all at once, especially when the rest of the team were clearly listening in to make sure one of the new rookies were doing fine. The Devils were like a family and usually he would appreciate it. 
However, he wasn’t exactly going to dive into the fact he was unfocused because a pretty girl offered to take his virginity to his captain or the rest of the team. He didn’t even want to imagine how that would have played out. 
But it was sweet to know the team had his back, that they saw him as his own person rather than just Jack’s little brother who was tagging along.
Luke was relieved when you had mentioned him coming over to your place for your meeting later that day. Yet, what he failed to take into consideration was the fact his brother would still be a nosy shit on his whereabouts. 
“Where the fuck are you going?” 
Luke froze, keys gripped in his one hand and his phone in the other with your address already typed into Google Maps. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore his pounding heart as he turned to Jack with a (hopefully) nonchalant look on his face.
“Just going to hang out with some friends,” he replied vaguely with a shrug of his shoulders.
Jack paused, the spoonful of rice hovering just above his plate as he narrowed his eyes at Luke. “Is Nico hosting some rookie thing or something?”
“Uh no,” Luke cleared his throat.
Jack frowned. “Is there a team thing happening tonight that I forgot?” 
“No, uh,” Luke shuffled awkwardly, feeling like an interrogation spotlight was shining on him. “It’s nothing with the team.”
Jack raised his brows. “But you don’t have other friends outside the team.” 
Luke frowned. “Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t,” Jack retorted. “Unless you’re a part of a book club or something.” 
He shot his brother a confused look. “Why would that be the only reason I have friends outside of the team?”
“I don’t know, college and shit,” Jack answered like that explained something.
“You’re such a weirdo,” Luke grumbled before he turned on his heel, making his way towards the door again. 
“Are you at least gonna tell me when you’ll be back?” Jack called out to him, a hint of older brother overbearingness in his voice. 
“Not sure.” 
“I—” He heard Jack shuffle to stand up, his dinner now abandoned on the coffee table as he made his way over to Luke. The look of concern from earlier that morning was back on his face. “What dodgy shit are you up to that you can’t just tell me?” 
“Jack,” Luke groaned, his voice tilting towards whiny as he let out a huff of annoyance. “I’m just going out to see a friend. Nothing dodgy, I promise.”
Jack didn’t say anything at first, just letting a slow smile spread across his face.
He frowned. “What?” 
“Friend, singular,” Jack pointed out before he let out a bark of laughter, playfully punching his little brother’s arm. “Aw, little Lukey is sneaking out to hook up with a girl!”
His cheeks burned. “Shut up.”
“Fucking finally, I thought you were going celibate for your rookie year or something!” Jack continued to tease him. “Who is it? Do I know her? Oh my god, is it the girl from the party? Do you have a secret girlfriend?”
“I am leaving now!” Luke shoved him away, making a beeline for the door as Jack continued to cackle behind him. 
“Do I need to give you a curfew?” 
“Fuck off!” 
He could still hear Jack laughing when he slammed the door shut behind him.
His body felt like it was on autopilot once he got behind the wheel. He followed the instructions spoken through his GPS, kept his concentration on the road—on the journey—rather than the destination. He tried to pretend like he was just going to hang out at a friend’s, that he was back in Michigan going to one of his teammate’s houses he didn’t live with. 
It was fine. 
Everything was fine.
Except for the fact that once he reached your door, closed fist hovering over the wood, he felt like his body was buzzing too fast to keep up with and all the pent up anxiety over the day was about to make him explode. 
He didn’t even realise he had knocked until the door swung open and you stood on the other side, grinning at him like it was a normal Sunday evening. You were dressed cosy, casual even. Just a pair of leggings, a baggy shirt and some fluffy socks that had—ironically enough—cherries printed on them.
“You’re early,” you noted. 
Luke’s stomach dropped a little. “Oh shit, I’m sorry—”
“I like my men eager, you’re fine,” you said as you waved him off, unaware of the fact your words just made his body feel like it was on fire for a whole other reason as you grabbed his hand and dragged him inside. 
His eyes wandered over your apartment, taking in the small knick knacks that decorated the place. It was smaller than his and Jack’s apartment, but it felt more homely. His place had a habit of looking a little clinical, like a showroom they had moved into rather than an actual home. But between training and travelling and not really caring, neither he nor Jack had bothered to change it. 
But, looking around at the small details of your apartment as you led him towards your living room couch, Luke found it endearing that he could see small insights into your personality.
“You still like Coke, right?” 
His eyes snapped back to you, a light blush on his cheeks when he found you staring at him with intent. “Uh yeah, Coke is good.” 
He settled down on the seat, awkwardly perched on the edge whilst you curled up in the sport next to him with your feet tucked underneath him. He tried to swallow the ball in the back of his throat, eyes wandering over the room once again before they landed back on you. 
“Your place is really nice—”
“Tell me about hockey.” 
Luke blinked. And then blinked one more time before he remembered to speak.
“What?”
“Tell me about hockey,” you repeated. 
“You want to know about hockey?” He questioned, his brows furrowed together and suddenly the panic he felt moments ago was overwhelmed by his confusion. 
“Well, no, I don’t really know anything about it,” you admitted with a shrug. “But you’re so tense over there like you’re about to enter the Hunger Games or something, I thought talking about something you enjoy would help you relax.” 
Something in his chest stirred at your confession. “Oh.” 
“Just relax,” you said as you lightly pushed him back until he was no longer sat on the edge of the couch. However, Luke’s body didn’t seem to catch the hint, something that was very clear with how tense he still looked sitting next to you. “We aren’t going to do anything tonight,” you assured him, your hand dropping to his forearm to give it a small squeeze. 
He didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed. “We aren’t?”
You shook your head, a soft but cheeky smile on your lips. “You need to build up your confidence a little, to really feel comfortable with everything. There’s more to sex than just sleeping with someone.”
He blinked. “There is?”
“Yes,” you laughed, but it wasn’t directed at him. He didn’t feel dumb for asking you questions. “So just take a breath and relax. Now, hockey—what’s the big deal?” 
Luke couldn’t help but snort. “The big deal?”
“Yeah, why do you like it?” You asked. “I mean, you love it enough to make it your job.” 
Luke smiled and there was something less heavy in his laugh—but hockey always tended to have that power over him. He knew hockey. He lived for hockey. It was as calming as it was exhilarating. It was what his whole world revolved around since the day he was born. 
“I come from a big hockey family,” Luke told you. “I could skate before I could properly walk, to be honest. It’s just something that’s always…been there. I couldn’t imagine my life without it.” 
“Do you enjoy it?” 
Luke raised his brows in surprise. “No, I just do it to torture myself.”
“Okay, smart-ass,” you rolled your eyes at the boy, and he tried not to think about how endearing the action was. “I mean, you said it’s been in your life forever. Do you enjoy it or is it just familiar?”
There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation before he answered.
“I love it,” he replied honestly, sinking a little further into the couch as he turned his head to look at you. “It was always there but I also always sought it out, you know? I wanted hockey as much as hockey wanted me.” 
“Lucky thing you were good enough to go pro, huh?” You remarked, a teasing glint in your words. 
Luke’s lips twitched upwards. “Yeah, lucky me.”
“So, do you, like, fight people and shit?” 
He snorted, the noise a little surprising but welcomed nonetheless. “Yeah, sometimes.” 
“Damn, the two hockey videos I watched before you came weren’t lying then,” you mused. 
And, fuck, his chest was doing that funny-tightening thing again. 
“You watched some videos before I came?”
“Colour me curious,” you answered with a casual shrug of your shoulders.
He swallowed. “Did you like what you saw?” 
Your lips pulled upwards into a smirk. “Flirting with me now, Hughes?” 
In an instant, Luke’s cheeks instantly burned a red shade with a mix of embarrassment and self-consciousness washing over him. “I’m sorry about that—”
“I never said I didn’t like it,” you interrupted, watching as his eyes widened a little in surprise. But the colour remained on his cheeks. It was cute, if you were being honest with yourself.
“Oh?”
“You’re not a shy guy, Luke, I’ve seen the way you are on the ice. You just need to bring that confidence off the ice too,” you told him, shuffling a little closer to him until your knee was almost brushing his thigh. “Think of this…what we are doing…as your training.” 
“My training?” 
“Mhm,” you nodded as your palm landed on his thigh, right above his knee. He was so painfully aware of your hand, of the way your touch felt like it was burning through the fabric of his sweatpants to touch his skin. “Gonna help you go pro.” 
His eyes darted down to your hand before it snapped back to your face. “Cherry—” 
“Can I kiss you?” 
He blinked. “You’re asking me?” 
“It’s sexy to ask,” you told him, your thumb lightly rubbing a small line just above his knee. You shifted a bit closer, watching the way his eyelids fluttered slightly. “Consent is really, really sexy.” 
“Really sexy,” he repeated, eyes locked in on your lips. 
“Can I kiss you?” You asked again, squeezing his leg a little to emphasise your need for him to verbally answer. 
“Yeah,” he managed to mutter out, a slight crack in his voice but you didn’t seem to care as you closed the distance between you.
Your palm was soft and warm against his cheek, guiding his head until you pressed your lips against his. It was a soft kiss, almost sweet in a way. And maybe something about the tenderness of it all washed away the unease in his chest, that lingering anxiety that he had been smothered in since he woke up. It was like the kiss washed away the lingering concerns in his head, the ones that told him this was some twisted dream or malicious ploy.
You just wanted to help, you wanted him relaxed when he was with you. 
And Luke had half the mind to trust you would do just that after the initial kiss. 
Your thumb slightly swept along the high of his cheekbone, soft and reassuring as he sunk further into the kiss. He seemed happy to let you take control, to let you decide how fast or passionate it was. He seemed happy to just follow. 
“Better than hockey training?” You murmured against his lips between kisses, the light smacking noises a vague echo in his ear but he didn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed.
“Mhm,” he hummed as he ducked his head back down, eager to press his lips against yours again. 
“Impatient,” you teased but didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. “Feeling confident already, Hughes?” 
Luke could feel your smile against his lips. “Maybe.” 
“Good,” you stated simply and before he got the chance to realise what you were doing, before his brain had even fully processed you had asked him a question, your leg was thrown over his body and you were straddling his lap.
Luke pulled back a little, looking up at you with his cheeks flushed. “Oh.” 
“Remember, this is just your training,” you reassured the boy, though it was hard for him to focus on the words coming out of your mouth when your lips were red and kiss-swollen and probably a mirror image of his own. “Just practise, yeah?”
“Just practise,” he confirmed with a nod. 
“So practise,” you told him as you reached for his hands where they awkwardly hung at his side. You gripped his wrists, giving them a small squeeze before you rested them on your waist.
He swallowed. “Oh.” 
You raised your brows. “This good?” 
“Mhm,” he nodded.
“Luke,” you prompted until his glossy eyes found yours. “We can stop any time you want. Just say the word, okay?” 
“I don’t wanna stop,” he reassured you, his hands giving a testing squeeze on your waist. “Not right now, at least. Promise.” 
And when you smiled at him, he could have sworn his heart was about to beat right out of his chest. 
His chest was thudding with each racing beat, blood roaring in his ears and butterflies exploding in his fucking chest when you leaned down to kiss him again. It’s like his brain was locked in on you at this very moment, not a care or concept for the world beyond this apartment. It was just about you, you, you.
And then your hands were pushing through his hair, fingers tangled in his curls as you tugged his head back until the column of his neck was exposed to you. 
Luke was almost embarrassed of the whimpering noise that left his lips when you tugged on his curls, a dull but desirable pain coursing through his whole body before your lips explored his neck. His breathing was heavy, borderline panting as your teeth scraped along the sensitive spot just below his ear. And, fuck, he felt like his whole body was on fire. 
“Hmmm, pretty noises,” you murmured against his neck, wet and sloppy open-mouthed kisses pressed against his skin as his body squirmed beneath you. “You gonna keep making them for me, baby?”
He nodded.
“Yeah?” You nipped his skin lightly, almost teasingly, as his hips bucked up on instinct. “Keep moaning f’me, baby, let’s see what you like.”
His grip on your waist only tightened as you continued to explore his body, as you tried to find the spots that had him whining and panting beneath you. And just when Luke thought he had a hold on himself, when he could handle the way your hands felt in his hair and your lips on his neck, your hips slowly rolled down against his and he could feel a rush of pleasure race down his spine.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he choked out between broken moans, head thrown back against the back of the couch and eyes clenched shut. “Please. More.”
“You want more?” Your warm breath fanned against his cheek as you lifted your head, hooded eyes watching the way his face scrunched up in pleasure as you continued to rock against him. “Keep making those pretty noises, baby.” 
The whimper he let out made his cheeks and neck burn bright red. 
“Look at you,” you mused, the bulge in his sweatpants pressed against you as you continued to grind down on his lap. “Doing so well for me, telling me what you want.”
And it was too much. 
The constant stream of praise leaving your lips, the way your face was inches away from him—even if his eyes were shut—with your breath hot against his cheek. The way your hips rocked against his hard cock, the way it was straining beneath the boxers he was wearing. The way your fingers gave another experimental tug on his curls and he saw white. 
His grip on your waist was almost bruising with how tight it was, the way he held onto you as his hips bucked to meet your thrusts, the way your name left his lips on a loop as a hot flush of pleasure washed over his body, as you guided him through it. 
And once his brain had caught up—once he was sure his heart wasn’t going to jump out of his chest—he was painfully aware of the sticky mess in his sweatpants. 
“Oh my god,” he muttered, his whole body burning with embarrassment as he looked up at you. “I am so sorry—” 
“For what?” 
“I—” His eyes fell shut, his body wanting nothing more than to curl in on himself. “I’m sorry, that was embarrassing.” 
You frowned. “What was? The fact you came?” 
His stomach twisted a little.
“Luke,” you murmured, and he could feel your hands cupping his warm cheeks but he didn’t have the courage to open his eyes just yet. “If I didn’t want you to come, I wouldn’t have been grinding on your dick like that.” 
He finally looked at you, but the hot shame remained. “You didn’t even…” 
“Get off?” You supplied and he looked sheepish as he nodded. “I can still enjoy something and find it hot without getting off, Hughes.”
His brows furrowed together. “I thought the whole point was that you were teaching me how to make you feel good. For womankind.” 
You snorted, grinning down at the boy. “That doesn’t mean you can’t get off too.”
Luke’s lips parted with a silent ‘oh’.
“I’ll grab you some sweatpants to change into,” you told him as you shifted off his lap, looking down at his flushed cheeks and dazed eyes. “You’re a good student, Hughes.”
He raised his brows. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you grinned back at him, and his chest did that funny thing again. “And I wasn’t lying. You make pretty noises. I like my boys vocal.” 
And Luke was thankful you disappeared down the corridor after that, saving him from even attempting to come up with a response. 
And he was shocked that once he cleaned up as best he could in your bathroom, you patted the spot next to you on the couch and told him to choose a movie whilst you ordered in some food. 
It was almost laughable to think about how anxious he had been all day, only to lead up to him sharing a pizza with you with some old Jim Carey comedy playing in the background like you two really were just friends. Like you were just hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. Like you hadn’t just made him come in his pants like he was some wound up teenage boy. 
It made his head spin, in a good way. 
And when he was dragging his feet through the front door of his apartment a little after midnight, there was a voice in the back of his head that was telling him this was risky, that he shouldn’t have felt so giddy or jovial after he had seen you. 
You were just training him, helping him. You were just his friend. 
But, for right now, Luke was happy to ignore the logical voice in the back of his head and instead focus on the fact that maybe—just fucking maybe—you were right and this whole virginity thing was far more bigged up in his head than he realised. 
You were his friend. And he knew you were just his friend. 
Who cares if his body took a little longer to remember than his brain did?
.
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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲
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pairing: dealer!rafe x fem!pogue!reader
summary: ❝i got you where i want you, you’re deader than ever, and falling for forever.❞ — a deal gone wrong leads to you and rafe being stuck in the same room together.
warnings: enemies to lovers, forced proximity (kinda), playful banter, bickering, mild slut shaming, mentions of drugs, dealing of drugs, mentions of violence, dirty talk, unprotected sex, hair pulling, overstimulation, baby trapping threats, finger sucking, slight degradation, slapping, cream pie
word count: 2.7k
a/n: series masterlist
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“i need the both of you to just calm down, alright?” barry stepped between you and rafe, both of you glaring at each other with a dangerous glint in your eyes. “if he’s in, then i’m out. i’m not gonna work with a fucking kook.” you spat, shoving barry’s hand away. “yeah? well i don’t wanna work with you either, pogue.” rafe shot back. “y’all don’t have a choice a’ight? i can’t go anywhere with this fuckin’ monitor on my ankle, so i need you two to do this deal for me. i’ll double the pay for the inconvenience.” barry cursed under his breath, plopping down on the couch.
rafe gave you a once over, his eyes lingering on your exposed cleavage. “where’d you even find this girl, barry? she looks like a walking felony.” you didn’t miss the way rafe licked his lips before taking a seat. you scoffed, fixing your top. “please, you want to talk about what i’m wearing? what about that collar? what are you, nine?” barry shook his heaad. “yeah, i’m nine in my pants, babe. wanna find out?” rafe leaned back in his chair, chewing on his gum as he looked up at you. “aw, you wish.” you blew him a kiss, rolling your eyes when he blew you one back.
“alright, listen. y’all are gonna meet up with this guy on the south side. let him give you the money first, and then you give him the blow. standard shit.” barry shrugged, handing you the bag with the stuff. “rafe, i already sent you the meeting place, so just come back as soon as you can.” you pulled your mini skirt down as you walked past him, his eyes burning into your skin. “this guy.. is he dangerous?” you turned around, rafe already on your tail. “not really, he knows me, you should be fine.” rafe shooed you out the door, his fingertips skimming your lower back. “watch your hands, asshole.” he laughed, watching your hips sway as you walked to his truck.
“it’s a shame you’re such a bitch, you’re pretty hot.” he started driving away from barry’s trailer. “and you’re not.” you tucked the bag in your side, checking your lip gloss in the mirror. rafe would never admit it out loud, but he loved your snappy attitude. all the girls he encountered were too nice, and too willing to let him do whatever he wanted. he liked a challenge, and you didn’t fail to give him that. “just so you know, i’m doing all the talking when we get there.” you two spent the rest of the ride making smart remarks to one another until finally, the house came into view.
“you stay here, i’ll be right back.” he reached over, eyes flickering down to your lips before grabbing the bag. you watched him walk inside, salivating at the sight of his muscles moving under his shirt. time moved fast, and before you knew it, rafe had already been gone for twenty minutes. “where is he?” you muttered to yourself, glancing at the front door. you don’t know why but you had an awful feeling about this. cursing under your breath, you did the last thing anyone should do, and got off the truck.
making your way up the steps to the front door, you hesitantly knocked, waiting anxiously for someone to answer. sure enough, a guy wearing all black opened the door, two more men behind him. “hi, um- i’m a friend of barry’s, and someone else came in here a while ago, i was wondering if he’s almost done, with the deal i mean.” the guy gave you a once over. “is he your boyfriend or somethin’?” you shook your head immediately.
“god, no! i have somewhere to be and he’s taking long, i just need him to come back already.” you hid your phone in the waistband of your skirt as you stepped in, the sound of the door locking making you turn around. there was no sign of rafe anywhere, and your skin was starting to crawl with the way the whole room stared you down. “you know what.. i’ll just go wait for him the way i was- ow!” you yelped when you felt someone pick you up, their arms practically digging in your ribcage as they dragged you down a dark hallway.
rafe heard you screaming, shooting up from the bed as he fought to open the door. “you’re hurting me!” you cried, whimpering when he threw you into the same room that rafe was in. “you didn’t have to manhandle her, asshole!” he shouted, helping you up from the floor. once you gained your balance, you pushed him away. “you don’t need to do that.” a small flash of hurt passed over rafe’s face as he took a few steps back. “why the fuck did you get off the truck?” he started pacing back and forth, holding his head in his hands.
“you were taking forever, i just wanted to see if you were okay! oh my god, is that a crime?” you took a seat on the edge of the bed. “you push me away when i’m checking on you, but you enter a stranger’s house to make sure i’m alright? how does that work?” he laughed bitterly, a small gasp leaving your lips when you spotted blood on his knuckles. “who knows what they’re gonna do to us now..” he cursed under his breath, making your eyebrows knit in confusion. “what are you talking about?” you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.
“barry must’ve given us the wrong bag. they weighed everything after they gave me the money, and they were two kilos short. ‘now they think i’m trying to run a play on them.” he sat down. “after they kicked my ass i told them i came alone and they just put me in here.” he pinched the bridge of his nose, a frustrated groan emitting from his throat. you stayed silent for a moment. “why did you tell them you were by yourself?” you finally asked. “so that they wouldn’t look in the truck and take you next, but it looks like you saved them the work and did it yourself.” he looked over at you, fully expecting you to shoot back with something sarcastic, but instead he was met with your teary eyes.
“i figured you’d just leave with the truck and tell barry something was up.” you glared at him. “you thought i would just leave you here? i may be a bitch, rafe, but i’m not heartless.” he nodded. “yeah i’m gathering that.” you sniffled, suddenly remembering that you were crying in front of this man. “i’m gonna get us out of here, alright?” you wiped your cheeks, getting up to check the windows. “they’re bolted shut, i already tried.” you groaned, plopping back down on the bed with a sigh. “well i guess it’s a good thing i brought my phone.” you took out the device, tapping on barry’s contact.
rafe looked at you in disbelief, taking the phone from your hands as he pressed it against his ear. “fuck, he’s not answering.” he whispered, calling him once more. “give me it!” you grabbed it, making rafe roll his eyes. “hello?” barry spoke into the receiver. “hey, dickhead, you shorted us and now we’re in deep shit.” rafe shushed you, his eyes widening as the lock on the door started rattling. “you better get us out of this!” you hung up, stuffing the phone in your pocket at the same time one of the guys walked in.
“what are you two huddled up in the corner for?” he arched a brow. rafe cleared his throat. “what? i can’t talk to my girl?” you blinked, flashing the man in black an awkward smile. “look, i don’t care what you do, boss man is trying to figure out a way to get the rest of what he paid for. your guy isn’t the easiest person to get ahold of.” you eyed the gun in the waistband of his belt. “yeah, well you tell ‘boss man’ that we’re just delivering, we don’t have anything to do with the missing blow.” he waved you off, locking the door behind him. rafe’s shoulders fell in relief. “you need to watch that mouth of yours.” rafe grabbed you, backing you up into the wall.
“or what?” he clenched his jaw, the last band of patience he had left, snapping. without warning, he dragged you over to the bed, climbing on top of you as you gazed up at him. “alright, you know what? let’s settle this shit right now. bickering with you was fun the first ten minutes, now it’s just pissing me off. what’s your problem?” the rough material of his jeans scratched against your skin. “one minute you’re insulting me, and then you’re getting down to check on me in the middle of a deal, the next. sounds like you’re having trouble picking a side.” he laughed. “i’m the one having trouble picking a side? i can’t tell if you hate me most of the time or if you want to fuck me.” it was your turn to laugh.
he studied you, letting his eyes wander to where your tits practically spilled out of your top. rafe would be lying if he said he didn’t regularly think of having his way with you, sometimes wishing he could stuff his cock in your mouth to shut you up. “and what if i do?” he ran a hand down your arm, watching as your nipples hardened through your blouse. “you hate me? i hate you too,” you shivered, taking your top off, revealing your bare chest to him, “you want to fuck me? i want to fuck you too.” rafe cursed, the sight of you underneath him, topless and pretty, forever ingrained into his brain.
“i don’t think i should give you what you want.” he cupped your tits, squeezing as hard as he can before rolling your nipples between his fingers. you hissed at the pain, a smile forming on your lips as you palmed him through his pants. “it looks like you want me more than i want you,” you giggled, eyeing the erection in his pants. “how pathetic.” rafe wanted nothing more than to fuck you until you were a crying mess for him, and he wasn’t going to leave from here until that happened. without another word, he yanked you up, flipping you over on your tummy as he pulled your skirt and underwear down in one swift motion.
you gasped, letting out a yelp when his hand came down and smacked your ass. he kicked your legs apart, wasting no time in running his fingers between your folds. he gritted his teeth at the sight. you were glistening with how wet you were. he groaned, pulling a handful of your hair, forcing you to look at his digits before bringing them to your lips. “you’ve been soaked all fucking day,” he watched as you sucked on his fingers, moaning at the taste of yourself, “how pathetic.” rafe used your words against you as he forced your head into the sheets. you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together as you heard the clink of his belt, the heavy leather snapping against the skin of your thigh.
“fuck,” you whimpered. rafe rubbed the now reddening skin, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “someone can walk in here at any moment, so i’d suggest you shut the fuck up.” his jeans pooled at his ankles as he lifted your hips in the air, using one hand to arch your back, and the other to line himself up with your entrance. you had to cover your mouth in order to muffle the moans falling from your lips as the head of rafe’s cock stroked your clit. “fuck, ‘been wanting to do this for a long time.” with a small groan, rafe pushed himself inside of you, your velvety walls fluttering around the welcomed intrusion.
“holy shit.” his head rolled to the side, his eyebrows knitting in pleasure. “you feel so fucking good.” he wrapped your hair around his fist, pulling the makeshift ponytail as he thrusted into you. your mouth fell open in a silent moan, a small cry emitting from your mouth. “don’t want you to stop.” you whined, looking back at rafe with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. one look at your face made him curse under his breath, your eyes sparkling under the soft light of the room. “you’re so fucking pretty, baby.” he cupped your cheeks, taking your lips in a searing kiss.
your eyes fluttered shut as rafe pushed your head down once more. “m’gonna make you take every inch of this fuckin’ cock.” you pulled away momentarily, glancing up at him through your eyelashes. “you’re not in all the way?” rafe smiled, shaking his head. “i’m only at about half.” as if on cue, rafe’s hand came up to cover your mouth, muffling your scream when he fully pushed himself into you. the feeling of his cock filling you up to the hilt was unlike anything you ever felt before. rafe was doing everything he could to contain himself. embarrassingly enough for him, he felt like he was well on his way to cumming inside you.
he looked down, absolutely mesmerized by the way your pussy took him with ease. “oh my, fuck!” you reached back, holding onto his wrist as your hips started to meet his thrusts. the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, both of you not caring who heard anymore. rafe grunted, pulling out as he flipped you over on your back. “i wanna see your face.” he breathed, his fingers attacking your clit. your nails raked down his chest, stars exploding from behind your irises. rafe felt his balls tighten as he neared his climax. “are you on the pill?” he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him.
you blinked slowly, the band in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment. “no..” you blinked slowly, a whimper falling from your lips as rafe lightly slapped your cheek. “no?” his jaw clenched, the revelation somehow turning him on even more. “i could baby trap you right now, ‘make you stay inside the house the way you’re supposed to,” your eyes rolled back as your thighs started trembling around his waist. rafe’s hips stuttered once he felt you clenching around him. “you’d want that, wouldn’t you? ‘wanna be taken care of?” you nodded, your orgasm hitting at the same time rafe filled you up with his load. he pulled you into his chest, keeping you still as you writhed beneath him.
“rafe!” you cried, tears threatening to spill at the overstimulation. “i know,” he kissed the crown of your head, “fuckin’ hell, i know.” he groaned, slowly coming to a stop. you were still dazed, your fingers running across his buzzed head as you reveled in the feeling of his weight on top of you. the two of you laid in silence, rafe’s chin resting in the crook of your neck. “are you okay?” he pressed a kiss against your skin, gazing down at you in all your sex afterglow.
you smiled shyly, making him stroke the side of your face. “we should give ‘not hating each other’ a try.” rafe helped you get dressed, putting his own clothes on soon after. “yeah, we should. you kinda cummed inside me, so..” he nodded, his lips forming a straight line. “yeah, i did. are you freaked out by that? ‘cause i’m not.” you laughed at how nonchalant he was at the whole thing. “i guess if you’re not, then i’m not.” you shrugged. he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap. “you’re a little misogynistic when you’re horny.” he hummed. “yeah? well, you came right after i said you belong in the house.” just as you were about to shoot back with something, the door slammed open.
“your guy came through with the stuff, both of you freaks could leave now.”
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passiveagreeable · 2 years
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You know, as much as I want to try to believe that people don’t suck, like, objectively. It’s just so funny when your everyday experience don’t align to that position At All.
#literally who hires someone and then attempts to ghost them for three weeks because they realize they didn’t want to#like. whomst. the fuck. does that?#you’ve wasted my time. you’ve wasted my money.#you literally had me fill out an i9 document and fill out direct deposit forms#I spent more than an hour on their online training and on boarding process#real piece of work. truly I appreciate it#only reason he actually had to tell me he had unhired me is because I called to inquire#and well I wasn’t surprised (legit the day after I interviewed I was already suspicious) but I hadn’t exactly written a proper response#I have some now. make me want to call him back to let him know how stupid he is#so I said something like ‘whatever but I don’t understand why you even got back to me in the first place if you weren’t gonna hire me’#(because long story short I applied for this job in may and I’m leaving in like a month.#they called me back because my dad (behind my back) called and left a bit of a sour voicemail about never responding to applications)#(then they called me the very next day. almost two months after I applied for a summer position)#and this man. this fucking imbecile. says to me#‘that’s fine. have a great day.’#really wish I had a better comeback but I just hung up#I’m not bitter that I didn’t get hired for a fucking serving position. I’m bitter because you’ve wasted my time and money#and btw literally HIRED me then just was like jk nevermind. but you didn’t tell me you just hoped I’d forget and go away ig#anyway my faith in humanity exceeds all expectation I’m having a great week and my life is moving in such a positive direction rn#I have had the most unproductive summer of my entire life. how that is even possible I simply do not know#I would start a fight in a bar if you paid me $20#20 bucks I wouldn’t have made otherwise so just hmu#literally best interaction I had all week was with the receptionist that transferred my call. shoutout to her she’s cool#honestly don’t even get me started on Other non job related things that make me hate people lately because everyday.#every goddamn day it is something new and it’s really wearing me down right about now#probably wouldn’t be nearly as up in arms about any of this if any single job I applied to got back to me. even as a rejection. but alas.#the workplace is a shitshow. people are bad managers. some are bad employees. companies are evil. things are just wonderful right about now!#it’s hasn’t been a long few days or weeks or whatever. no it’s been a long fucking year#and the worst part is I have no right to be mad about all this. like I understand objectively this is petty and ridiculous
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rinhaler · 7 months
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𝖒𝖞 𝖋𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖎𝖘 𝖌𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖓
✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ plug!ryusei shidou x f!reader
Genre: smut Notes: iiiiiii want him n need him desperately ♡ i made him icky, manipulative and dress like pete davidson warnings: 18+, (soft?)dom!shidou, sub!reader, dubcon, drug use (weed), blowbacks/shotgunning, reader has pubes!, ryusei has a gold tooth, virgin!reader, corruption kink, dumbification?, fingering, blowjob, head pushing ♡, male masturbation, use of nii-chan (not referring to ryusei), slight dacryphilia, shush!kink, praise, pet names, cum eating ♡, he calls your pussy 'her', slut used once. words: 7.1k
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“No way am I coming over. Your big brother would kill me.”
Ryusei can’t stop himself from smirking when he can hear your attempt to conceal a whimper. And he just knows there’s a plump little pout on that pretty little face on the other end of the line.
He’s been dealing to your brother for years, they’re basically best friends if you subtract the client aspect from the equation. They smoke together, they’re always hanging out and Ryusei isn’t a stranger to the apartment you and your brother share.
“How did you even get my number anyway, darlin’? Reaaaal naughty of ya to be calling me like this. Gonna be in big trouble if I tell your nii-chan.” he tells you. And this time you hear the smirk behind his voice. He’s teasing you. He’s toying with you, but you still can’t stop yourself from becoming paralysed with fear.
“He gave me it for emergencies! Please don’t tell ‘im!” you sigh. “He’s on some weekend work trip because he’s tryna get a promotion. I’m just lonely…”
“Awe, and why is that my problem?” he asks, harshly. It takes you aback slightly though your determination doesn’t falter. You take a deep breath and try to formulate a response in your mind.
“You guys are always havin’ fun together… but you never let me join in. I wanna have fun with you too, Ryusei—”
“No.”
“But—”
“I said no.” he stands firm and shows no signs of backing down. He hears the little deflated exhale you release, and he licks his lips as he thinks. He doesn’t want you to be sad, but he knows fucking around with a client’s sister behind his back is a stupid fucking idea. “You’ll be alright on your own. Why don’t you invite one of your friends over.”
“W-Well… I just wanted to see you.” you tell him, honestly. “I— I wanted to try smoking with you.”
He chuckles when he hears that. It hasn’t been a discreet crush you’ve harboured since you saw him for the first time. You may have thought otherwise, but Ryusei has always known. He kisses his teeth and laughs again as he thinks about this tantalising proposition being thrown onto his lap.
“You’re really tryna get into trouble this weekend, huh? Do you always invite drug dealers over?” he wonders, knowing the answer already. He knows you’re a good girl who always does as her nii-chan says. But today you want to let your hair down. Today you can let your hair down because he isn’t here for the whole weekend. You can be a little naughty and reckless and have some fun for a change. “Are you that lonely, baby? Jus’ want some company?”
“… Y-Yes. ‘m lonely…” your lower lip wobbles as you think about being in the same apartment all by yourself for the next two days. You’re fine now, it’s only 12:30pm. But what about when it gets dark out? You’re a stupid girl who lets her mind run wild with the possibilities of ghosts and home invaders. You’ve seen one too many horror movies while your brother and Ryusei are high in the front room for no regard to your taste in genre. You hate horrors but you’ve seen so many thanks to them. And now your mind is racing. What if you got kidnapped or killed for the fun of it? “I don’t wanna be alone, Ryusei… ‘m so scared.”
He grits his teeth, resolve crumbling as he thinks about you all alone in the apartment he’s spent so many nights in. So many pointless nights where he could have been out making more money or fucking a multitude of girls who don’t hide their attraction for him. So, is he really about to sacrifice the same for you?
Lonely, frightened, you?
“Well, we can’t have that, can we? I’ll be there in twenty.”
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Now that he’s here you’re not sure what you were thinking. You’ve never smoked before. You’ve not even had a sip of alcohol before! But you know drugs are Ryusei’s whole life right now. Selling, buying and occasionally consuming. He locks the door behind himself as he enters. He’s wearing a wide grin as he comes in and approaches you.
He thinks you’re just the sweetest little thing.
Your feet walk you backwards as he gets closer to you, lunging forward to grab you when you almost trip over your pink Kirby slippers that your brother got you for your most recent birthday.
“Clumsy girl.” he grins, gripping into the fat of your underarms. He leads you over to the couch and more or less throws you down onto it. He dumps his backpack on the coffee table. “What time does your brother come home, sweetheart?��� he asks, not even looking your way as he takes out his belongings and spreads them out on the table.
“Uh—” you think, eyes squinting as you look up at the ceiling and try to act natural. “Monday… morning.” you tell him.
“Well, I’m sure he won’t mind if I keep you company ‘til he gets back, right?”
“R-Right…” you aren’t so sure about that, but you’re hardly going to disagree with him. Though in truth, he knows he’ll be furious. But the time he cared about your pathetic brother’s opinion has been and gone. What kind of man would he be if he left a poor defenceless thing like you all on your lonesome in such a sketchy part of town?
You watch him carefully as he pulls out a grinder, some papers, and a large baggie of weed and puts them all down on the table. Your mind wanders as he describes the effects to you, none of it is computing. And it gets even worse when he starts talking about different strains doing different things. As far as you were aware, weed was just… weed. You’d never heard about strains or effects. All of your knowledge comes from movies. Tripping, munchies, all of the cliché stuff.
He grins when he sees your dumb expression. Of course you’re not understanding anything he says. All you need to know is that you’ll be okay because he’s here to look after you. He’s here to take you through it.
You watch him as he grinds it up in a tall metallic grinder. And seeing him roll is like witchcraft to you. It’s not like it’s the first time, but it’s the first time you’ve seen it up close. Your nii-chan always exiles you to your bedroom when they’re rolling and smoking. You’re only allowed out once they’re high, though it’s never stopped you peaking from the crack of your door.
Your eyes widen in disbelief as he holds eye contact with you while he licks the paper. Suddenly you’re looking anywhere but in his direction. He’s revelling in it, making you so uncomfortable and shy. You really are sweet ‘n innocent, huh?
“Here.” he hands it to you, his voice earning your attention and you look into his pink eyes before they drop to the blunt in his hand. You look back at him, confused, and he finds himself adjusting the baggy shorts he’s wearing in hopes that you haven’t noticed the way his cock jumps when you tilt your head so stupidly. “What? This is what you wanted.” he speaks, his defensive tone surprising you.
“But… I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never smoked before…”
“Never? Not even a cigarette?” he asks.
“Nothing… never smoked or had a drink or even been to a party. Nii-chan is too protective.” you pout. He wants to fucking ruin you. You’re so fucking cute and stupid he thinks he might cum in his underwear just from hearing you speak. You’re so obedient and it makes you so fucking stupid. As if you aren’t a grown woman who could get her own apartment and do whatever she wants. “Will you show me?” you speak, cutting through his thoughts.
He nods, effortlessly. He lounges back into the couch, legs spread wide as he lets the blunt balance between his lips. It’s lit instantly, and you can’t believe what a pro he is. He’s got one of those stupid lighters. The ones with the metal bit you have to spin with your thumb rather than one of the plastic ones you just push down. You can never use them. Your brother always lends them to you when you want to light a candle, but he always ends up lighting them for you.
“Get me somethin’ to use as an ashtray.” he tells you, it’s a rude demand rather than a request. But his lack of manners doesn’t stop you from immediately jumping to your feet and rushing over to the kitchen sink. You just washed your brother’s ashtray this morning. You smile happily as you hand it to him, clearly willing to do anything he asks whether he’s polite about it or not.
He takes a few more drags and flicks the ash every so often. And when he’s halfway through, he looks at you, expectantly.
“Your turn.” he tries to hand it to you again. You take it, and you flinch as he also forces the lighter into your palm. “You didn’t invite me over just to watch me smoke, did you? What, are you trying to take advantage of me?” he laughs, running his tongue along his top row of teeth. His golden canine twinkles at you, halting you from speaking for longer than you’d intended.
“It’s not like that! I just— I’m nervous, and I hate these lighters.” you explain. You stiffen as he rolls his eyes and adjusts his body, angling it to face you. His stare is harsh, bordering on agitated. It’s only fair, you think. He hadn’t planned on spending his day babysitting you or showing you how to do something so simple. “’m sorry.” you speak, it’s so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it. Almost.
“Open up.” he commands. You’re confused at first, and before you know it his rough thumb is tugging at the fat flesh of your lower lip. “I said: open up.”
You clear your throat and angle your body in a similar way to him. Although you’re nowhere near as tall or intimidating as him. You’re like a sullen little dormouse, respecting the orders of your master. Your lips part ever so slightly as he places the blunt between them. Your lips close around it, keeping it perched firmly between them. He can see lip gloss residue smearing on the paper; his depraved mind is going into overdrive. His lewd thoughts encompassing him, he needs to break free and focus on you before you start to ask more silly questions.
He tucks your hair behind your ears and away from your face. A brief thought crosses his mind of how embarrassing it would be to get caught by your brother because he singed your fucking hair.
“Don’t just suck it, yeah? Breathe it. You wanna feel it go in your chest, alright?” he asks you, it sounds like a reminder. Like he’d already told you this and he’s making sure you are listening this time. It’s hard not to when all you can focus on is him. How he’s staring at you. How he smells like cheap aftershave and weed. The smell of weed is revolting, truth be told, you aren’t sure how you’re going to be able to inhale it without gagging.
He flicks the lighter a few times and keeps an eye on your expressions and your breathing to make sure you’re doing it right. You look terrified.
And he likes it.
Your eyes get wider and wider the more you inhale, and he’s worried they might pop out of that pretty head of yours. You suck and you breathe in as much of the earthy smoke as you can until it embraced your lungs like an invader claiming its new home. He can’t hide his laughter when you begin to choke, realising you are the good girl you’re claiming to be and absolutely have never smoked anything in your life.
“Everything hurts.” you tell him, still coughing and sputtering out lingering smoke as your eyes water. “It tastes like shit…” you continue, covering your mouth as you can’t stop yourself from choking anymore. He gets up, handing the ashtray to you to balance the blunt in and he flees the scene of the crime without a word. He returns a few moments later with a glass of water, he even added in a few ice cubes for you.
“Think you’re all grown up because you’ve had your first puff?” he wonders, “Never heard you swear before, darlin’.” he finishes as he hands the glass to you.
“I swear… I’m allowed to swear, Ryu.” you answer defiantly.
Cute, he thinks. You really are trying to sound all big and bad for him. But he’s never going to take you seriously after that little display, you’re just a little girl trying to act tough. A cute girl trying to be the cool girl.
But you both know you’re far from cool. A cool girl wouldn’t care so much about pleasing her brother and being a good girl for him. A cool girl would do whatever she wants without fear of the consequences.
At least you’re trying, he thinks.
You glug and you glug until you soothe the suffocating dryness in your chest. He’s transfixed on a droplet of water clinging to the corner of your mouth, unable to tear his gaze as it begins to run down your face. And he can’t think of a cuter sight than you still trying to be the cool girl, wiping it away with the back of your hand before he can notice despite it being much too late for that.
“C-Can I do some more?” you ask him, big wet eyes blinking at him as you hope he’s still willing to guide you.
“Think you can handle it?” he asks. “Get some more water.” he commands, not even letting you answer first. It’s probably the right call, though, you’re hardly going to be accustomed to the feeling of smoke contaminating your insides after one heavy inhale.
You follow his pathing from moments before, getting yourself some water and fresh ice cubes before returning and facing him again. You drink so much; he grabs your wrist and moves the glass away from your lips before you down the whole thing.
He lets out a heavy breath as he holds the blunt and sees how your lips immediately part for him this time without being asked. Fast learner. His thumb pulls at the metal wheel twice, each time it sounds make your eyes flicker further open.
“Breeeathe.” he demands, and you obey. You take it waaaay better this time, holding it for longer after he pulls the lighter away and takes the blunt from your lips. “That’s it, atta girl.” he smiles as you slowly exhale, only coughing a little bit. Your little hands are immediately reaching for the glass of water you set down moments before.
“I feel…” you try and think, eyes darting around the room in search of the right words to use. Your eyes close without your permission, humming happily as you embrace the feeling, a cheery smile visible on your face. “Weird…” you giggle, deeming it the only appropriate word that springs to mind.
“Is that right, baby? Feelin’ weird?”
“Mhmm.” you sigh, dreamily, letting the feeling consume you wholly. You want to melt into the couch beneath your thighs; and you involuntarily begin to lean back into the plush leather before Ryusei stops you. “My eyes are hurting, Ryusei…”
“Mm, I’ll bet. They’re all bloodshot, princess. Think you’re high.” he smirks.
“Wan’ some more.” you tell him, reaching to take the blunt from his hold. He moves his hand away. The fat, brown joint just out of your tired reach. And fuck he can’t stop his cock from twitching when you don that pout. That pretty little pout that you can’t stop yourself from displaying any time you’re disheartened. “P—lea, p-please…” your lower lip juts out further.
“C’mere.” he instructs you, his empty hand patting at his adjacent thigh. He sees the hesitation in your eyes. The little protest lodged in your throat as you think what a bad idea this could be. Why does he want you to sit on his lap? Your heart is racing with possibilities. Is he going to try and kiss you? Or is it simply an easier position for him to help you smoke? “Move, baby, now.” his voice is firm, almost scary. Your movements are slow, but you find yourself moving on his order regardless.
You go to him, but he stops you as you try and sit nicely in his lap. It isn’t quite what he had in mind. He doesn’t want to baby you like the princess you want to be for him. You’re like a ragdoll as he positions you, limbs loose beneath his touch until you realise you’re straddling him. His legs are spread wide, relaxed, and you’re hovering above him a little.
“Open your mouth f’me.” you’re like a robot, complying with each and every command he issues without hesitation.
You’re too good, too perfect. And Ryusei Shidou is quite the opposite; he’ll ruin you if you aren’t careful.
But right now, you couldn’t care less.
Your dewy lips part, wider than they had earlier until Ryusei seems satisfied. He’s relieved you’re only hovering over him, or you’d have definitely felt the way his dick twitched at the sight of your pudgy lips widening for him.
He relaxes, fully, his own eyes becoming more bloodshot as the minutes go by. Weed doesn’t affect him like it used to, not in the way it’s affecting you. But he’s calm. All of his thoughts are collected, and he feels at peace. It’s probably the reason he’s being so brazen and not giving a second thought to the consequences of being with you anymore.
While you’re waiting for his vision to be realised, while you’re waiting for the reason as to why he wants you in this position with your lips spread, he lights up the blunt once again. You watch him through a heavy-lidded stare as he takes a hefty inhale.
You sense him planning something, the cogs whirring sinfully in his mind as he looks between your eyes and your lips as he inhales the smoke deeper and deeper into his lungs. He rests his arm over the rest of the couch, harbouring zero consideration for the potential ash staining the cream carpet below.
He tries to close the distance between your bodies, and you instinctively jolt away from him, your lips clamping shut just as quickly. As much as he wants to smile, to laugh, his lips remain neutral and sealed. His empty hand holds the small of your back. His fingers drift, trailing up the column of your spine. He flattens his palm between your shoulder blades, pushing your face and body closer to his. His right hand remains between your shoulder blades, the other coming around to tug your viscid lower lip until your mouth is ajar. He leans in, closer. The closest he’s ever been to you in the entire time you’ve known him.
He's going to kiss you.
Your heart is thumping, the intense beating, hammering your heart through blood, muscle tissue and flesh. Your eyes close instinctively, and at that, he does smirk.
His eyes alternate between yours, and your gloss covered lips. And then his are ghosting yours, not close enough to touch but not far enough for you to not feel their presence. His gaze becomes heavy, lustful as he observes you. He’s fixated on how you react as he blows the smoke from his lungs into yours.
Your eyes widen as you realise he isn’t kissing you, but your mind is hazy as you realise what he is doing. His lungs shrink as he empties them, but he doesn’t move. He smiles, though, and you fucking feel it. He’s waiting patiently to see just how desperate you are for him to kiss you.
Your breathing is intense. He can hear each breath you take through your nose as you try and compose yourself. You try and calm down and hide your burning shame from him. He knew what you’d assume and chose not to correct you. Just to see you squirm.
But you want to kiss him.
You want him to kiss you.
He chuckles lightly when he sees a nervous little gulp plummet down your throat, he’s sure if he blinked he would have missed it. He wonders if your eyes always vibrate so intensely when you’re nervous.
“Did you like that?” he whispers, his lips still inching away from yours. You feel each and every breath it takes for him to speak that sentence.
“Yeah…”
“Yeah?”
“Mm… mhmm…” you nod, eagerly and yet somehow still awkwardly. “D— Can you do it again?” you whisper. It’s so meek and downright precious he can feel pre fucking ooze out of his tip.
He adjusts his position, nodding, his lips almost catching yours but not quite before he pulls away to smoke some more. Your lips part beautifully and he’s smiling sinisterly yet again. His hand travels from your back to hold the crown of your head, you can’t back away this time, not that you’d want to. He’s keeping you in place as he slowly begins to puff smoke past your desperate lips.
You moan, involuntarily, as you feel your mind cloud and your body grow wearier. But still, you can’t get enough. You can’t fully satiate your desires of intoxication. Not with drugs. Not with attention. Not with touch. You need him. More of him.
“Baby?” you hear him mumble, his lips clumsily toying with yours as he refuses to fully close the gap between them. “I think ya wanna kiss me.”
You squeak, almost, a high pitch whine sounding through your nose as the uncomfortable statement surges through you. Were you so pitifully obvious the whole time? You lean in closer, attempting to close the separation between you. But he pulls away, ever the tease, and he can’t help but relish the whimper that claws its way up your throat.
“You ever even kissed anyone?” he asks, closing the gap once again. “Y’know, since you’re such a good girl.”
You feel the tips of your ears and face begin to sear with heat, embarrassment flooding through your blood. You nod, defiantly, doing all you can to assure him you’re not the big loser he seems to think you are.
“I have… ‘ve had boyfriends before… Ryu…” you tell him, though it’s still a little humiliating.
“So,” he starts, his hand holds your hip as he adjusts himself slightly. Thumb stroking your side calmly, despite his cock driving ever so gently into your core as he moves. Not hard enough to set off alarm bells, but just enough to leave a lasting impression. He bites lip and releases it just as fast as his eyes rake over you, and you feel so small under his stare, despite him being the one looking up at you. His fingers weave and comb through your hair until he gets a tight enough grip. Your noses are touching before he tilts his head, your lips barely lingering on one another’s as you each fight against fully committing. “If I kiss you right now, it’s gonna be worth my time?” he whispers.
In truth, it’s been a while since you kissed anyone. You haven’t had a boyfriend since high school and that seems like a lifetime ago now. But you don’t want to go another second without feeling his lips fully pressed against yours. So, you nod. It’s weak and unconvincing, but you nod anyway.
It’s enough for him. In truth, he wouldn’t have cared if you’d never been kissed before. He’d be more than happy to teach you, though he’s sure he’ll teach you plenty anyway. He’s going to turn you into a masterpiece; one that has been created only for him to enjoy.
His lips slot against yours and it’s like an explosion. You’ve been fucking starved for him, and you can barely remember to breathe as it intensifies. Suctioning sounds repeat as you kiss without stopping. Neither of you remember to come up for air until you’re gasping.
Your lips part divinely as his tongue pushes past them and it’s so rapturous as your little wet muscle meets his. He groans, loudly, as he licks and swipes all while you’re moaning pathetically into his mouth. He bets your soaked, he’s rock hard and leaking like a virgin getting his first hand job after all.
“Stick out your tongue.” he tells you, and like always, you do as you’re told. He licks at it, swirls his own tongue around it. He sucks it until he’s heady with lust.
His body collapses against the back of the couch, and like the perfect pet you follow him. You can’t stop making out with him now. You can’t possibly get enough. You doubt it would even be enough to crawl inside his skin and live out the rest of your days there.
You’re addicted to him.
He pushes your body down so that your crotch is fully pressed into his. The feeling of his throbbing cock almost entirely against your panty-clad mound is a surprise to say the least, you hadn’t expected it and your surprised expression gives you away instantly. But he doesn’t comment right away, instead, he grinds his crotch against yours as you carry on kissing. Your breath fans across his face, you’re delirious from the sensation of him being against you like this, you’ve never known anything quite like it.
“Feel what you’re doin’ to me?” he chuckles, parting away from you enough to look up at you again and lick his lips. But you chase him, you think you might stop breathing if you deny yourself of him. Your tongue pushes past the seam of his lips, and of course he doesn’t object. He feels your little wet muscle searching for something, and he can’t contain the amused scoff when he realises you were tracking down his gold tooth, the tip of your tongue licking it from behind all of the way to the front until you reach his gums. “Fuck… you’re filthy.” he informs you before kissing you again.
You giggle before he yanks at your hair. Flirtatious laughter being forced into a tantalising gasp, your head angled so that you’re looking up at the ceiling above. The column of your neck is almost enough to make him cum. It’s so fucking bare. So pure and untainted. He wants nothing more than to sink his teeth into you. To cover you in hickeys and bite marks so that everyone knows what he fucking did to you.
But he knows, deep down, it isn’t worth it. It isn’t worth the questions and the bullshit and the drama. Not this time, anyway. Instead, he leaves gentle kisses and soft suckles against your skin. His tongue leaves fat, wet stripes over your throat and pulse point, hot breath fanning over them between kisses. You’re keening for him as his lips begin to ascend. You’re shuddering against him as he breathes heavily, deliciously, into your ear. His hand drifts to squeeze your tit over your crop top as he continues to breathe thickly into your ear canal. The intensity forcing your skin to break out in goosebumps.
You mewl, and it’s a fucking siren song as he sucks on your earlobe. He drives his covered cock up into you as he takes the cartilage between his teeth, alternating between that and sucking like he’s trying to get milk from nipple.
“Does anyone else know what a naughty little thing you are?” he talks directly into your ear, thumb rubbing over the thin material of your top, your hardened nipples unfortunately hidden behind your push up bra. “Or do you only get like this f’me?”
“Jus’ you…” you sigh, your arm wraps around his neck so that you can hold his head the same way he had yours. Tiny little fingers toy with blonde and pink tufts, he groans slightly at the comforting feeling.
“Darlin’… you know you have to pay, don’tcha?” he asks. It’s so out of the blue, you push away from him. He grins as he watches the confusion and horror take over your facial expression. You were so blissfully at peace, lost in the feeling of his lips and his touch all over your body. “Drugs aren’t free, y’know.”
“B-But…” you think, panicking, “I— nii-chan only left me enough for emergencies…” you tell him, hoping he’ll take pity on you. He offers a fake little pout, tutting at your excuse. It’s so feeble and pathetic and he loves how easy it is to mess with you.
“Awe, baby.” he offers faux sympathy, his thumb stroking over your cheek yet again. “You better do what I say then, yeah? Gonna have to keep bein’ a good girl f’me, ‘n then we can forget the whoooole thing.”
“What do you want me to—”
He thrusts his hips up, and you lose balance, falling perfectly into his arms. He tugs at your crop top, urging you to take it off. You start pulling it upwards, though it’s too slow for his liking. He yanks it over your head, getting a quick eyeful of your tits and aqua blue bra before he sucks hard into the fat flesh of your breasts.
You’re too busy moaning, rolling your hips against him to notice he has unclasped your bra with one hand. He pulls carefully at the straps, ridding you of the material covering part of your modesty. He bites his lip and breathes heavily as he ogles them. You feel the way his cock pulses against your cunt.
“S’fuckin’ pretty—” he muses. You feel different, now. You’re fully on display for him and you are completely at his mercy. Your rational mind is telling you to give him the emergency money your brother left and send him on his way. But sadly for you, your poor neglected pussy wants him to stay and have his way with you. “You’ve gotta suck my cock, baby. Now.” he demands.
Your heartrate sky-rockets. Things are moving so fast you can barely process it at all. You look down between your thighs and see the ever-growing bulge in his shorts. Can you argue with him? Reason with him? It doesn’t matter either way, you’re already sliding carefully onto the ground and getting down on your knees between his spread legs. You aren’t sure where to start. Everything you think about doing dies a sudden death with each new idea that comes to the forefront of your mind.
“Pull it out, hurry up.”
Little hands shake as nimble fingers grip onto the waistband of his shorts. You pull and you pull and he lifts his body to help in your efforts. He almost grunts as his cock springs free, pearlescent pre leaking a ton from his twitching slit.
“Mmmm…” he moans as he grips his cock at the base, shaking it a few times so that the tip hits your nose softly, soupy liquid sticking to you as he does. “Be a good girl, show me how bad you can be.”
There’s not a single universe where you’re successfully concealing your apprehension from him, though he thinks nothing of it. He thinks you’re nervous because you’ve had a crush on him for quite some time now and you don’t want to disappoint him. Your hands carry on shaking as you grab onto his length. He’s huge, both of your little hands are holding him in your grasp and there’s still more of his thickness unable to be held.
You think to start off you should clean the tip; you lick and lave over his throbbing head and your face scrunches as you register the warm tanginess permeating your tastebuds.
His body almost dissolves into the couch as you start to take more and more of him. He shoos your hands away and holds himself so that you can balance your hands on his thighs. His free hand holds your head, forcefully attempting to shove you further and further down on his length until you’re choking on him. You’re spitting and sputtering just like you had when you smoked.
“S’cute.” he moans. The light praise encourages you to keep trying for him. So, you do, try. You try to give him mind blowing head. You try to remember to use your tongue to keep him nice and stimulated as you bob up and down on his cock. You even remember one of your friends telling you that squeezing your thumbs stops you from gagging as much.
But it’s all in vain.
Ryusei hisses, flinching from an amalgamation of too much teeth and not enough spit. He snatches you away by your hair, seeing red veins stabbing through the whites of your eyes as they begin to gloss over. A watery sheen telling him of your deepest shame and embarrassment.
“Are you a fucking virgin, baby?” he wonders. His cock spills more pre as he sees tears fall from your eyes and cascade down your cheeks. The little sniffles you can’t stop are a symphony to him and he can see the way your throat is choking back audible cries. He can hear the little croaks trapped there, though, poor thing. “Never sucked a cock before, have you?”
“’m s-so sorry.” you stop fighting your losing battle as you start to cry, utterly humiliated that your secret has come to light because you did such a terrible job giving head. “I’ll— g-get my purse ‘n then you can just g-o. I’m sor—”
He leans forward, hand snaking between your thighs to cup your cunt. “Never had a cock in her, huh? What about fingers? Anybody ever ate your pussy, sweetheart?”
“N-Nothing!” you speak, almost defiantly though that wasn’t your intention. You’re feeling vulnerable and defensive. You’re embarrassed, and he has his hand somewhere nobody has ever touched you before. “Only kissed before…”
“Mmm… no wonder you’re so wet.” he speaks, though he isn’t seeking a reply. He’s simply musing to himself. He should have known, really. When would you get a chance to fuck and learn how to suck cock when your brother practically holds you hostage in this shit hole apartment? “I won’t fuck you, today. You’re not gonna suck my cock either. Come here.” he continues, he grabs both of your wrists and drags you back to your previous position with little effort. You’re above him, again, your thighs straddling his. “Stand up, actually.” he orders, you obey.
Your tits are still exposed and you’re standing in nothing but your pleated mini skirt and silk panties beneath. He twirls his finger, encouraging you to do a spin for him. You complete it, quickly, your skirt raising ever so slightly and exposing a peak of pink silk before you find a neutral position once more.
“Slower.” he tells you, so you spin again. Slower, just for him. “Stop.” he tells you when your back is facing him.
“Is something wrong, ah—!” you yelp as he ruthlessly kicks the inside of your ankles until your legs are spread apart from each other.
“Bend over, put your hands on the table.” he instructs you. You’re slow in doing so, not wanting to rush this time; though you still feel your heartbeat in your throat. Your skirt rides up, the pink silk completely covering your most precious secret. Though he grunts at the sight, unable to control himself. His jaw clenches and bubbles at the sight of brunette curls peaking from the sides of your panties. “Holy shit, fuck.” he sibilates, thick long fingers hooking into the pink silk. He wastes no time tearing them from your body, shoving them into the pocket of his hoody.
He grabs the globes of your ass, kneading the flesh under your little skirt and parting your pussy lips in the process. He’s enamoured by the sight, the way your arousal has soaked your pubic hair. It’s shimmering, he can’t help but to touch and toy with your pubes when they’re taunting him like this. He can’t remember the last time he fucked a girl with a cute bush of hair like yours. It’s always fucking waxed and landing strips and of course he won’t complain, but seeing your intimate form in all of it’s glory like this… you’re perfect. You’re fucking holy.
He pushes a single finger hastily into your wet hole. You almost fall forward; you cry out from the feeling of being stretched for the very first time.
“Never shave this fucking pussy, yeah? Leave it like this f’me.”
You don’t reply, mind spiralling from the feeling of pain and pleasure as he burrows his finger in deeper and begins to curl it when he feels that perfect little spongy spot buried deep. Your cheeks are stained with glittering tears, the overbearing living room light not offering you any courtesy in that regard. Your tear-stricken face will be exposed to him, eventually.
Will he care?
Will he show concern?
Will he be sympathetic since he is the cause?
It appears not. He holds no consideration as he pummels a second finger inside of your gummy interior. He scissors them again and again and again until you’re practically screaming. It feels worse when he pushes against the spot. That spot that blinds your fucking vision.
“A-Ah. Aaah—!” you sob, scream, anything your body can physically project in your current state. It almost feels like an out of body experience. “Ouch! Ow, R-Ryusei. Hurts! Hurtin’ me—!” you explain. He wraps an arm around your midsection, fingers still cosy deep inside. He pulls you back, your spine flush against his chest. His hand moves from your stomach to your mouth, silencing your cries and whimpers as his fingers carry on battering your g-spot.
“Shhh, it’ll feel good in a minute.” he informs you. “Rub your clit, baby, show me how you touch this virgin cunt.” your entire body becomes scalding in an instant, the lewd language and very notion that you masturbate filling you with unease. But without question, your fingers find the swelling nub between your pussy and begin to rub and rub.
He rests his forehead against your shoulder, smiling down as he hears painful cries turn to libertine moans. His smothering hand frees your airways, allowing you to send your mewling into the airspace freely. He squeezes his cock, hard, and begins to masturbate himself. A sticky, clacking sound filling the room. It’s mixing in with the sound of your squelching cunt.
Your eyes cross as he finds a perfect rhythm with you. You’re sure you look like a bona fide whore, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re balancing on the balls of your feet with your legs spread open wide, putting your cunt on full display. Your left hand digs into the leather arm rest beside you, the only form of balance you have.
You’re so fucking loud. He’s never heard anyone scream or moan as loudly in his life, though he’s one to talk. He’s on the verge of cumming after so much torment and he couldn’t be more vocal if he tried.
“D-Do you want all the neighbours to hear what a little slut you are? Want ‘em to tell your brother you got fucked stupid while he was gone?” he asks, it’s rhetorical, of course. He doesn’t care that you’re being loud. He just wants to torment you, tease you and build that unadulterated shame that you’ve had embedded in you your whole life. You are the product of repressed sexual urges. Would you have let a drug dealer strip you and play with your cunt if you weren’t so desperate and needing to be toyed with?
“’m gonna c-cum. Fuck, Ryusei! Cumming f-for you—!” you cry, your walls squeezing his fingers until they feel close to breaking. “Oh my god…” you sob. Your poor little virgin slot throbbing and pulsating around his thick heavy fingers and you continue to cum for what feels like a lifetime. His curling fingers dragging out the feeling for as long as humanly possible.
“Hah- haah- ah, fuck!” he finishes, white, gluey fluid shooting up your back. He fucks his fist until he drains every last drop from his swollen balls. He admires his work, smearing the remaining residue on your ass cheek and your skirt. He wonders if you’ll remember to wash it, God forbid your stupid brother find a cum stain on it.
He scrapes his cum onto his fingers and orders you to face him. He brings his sperm to your lips, expecting you to know what to do.
“Eat.” he says. You hesitate. He wants you to what? It’s a liquid, you can’t eat it. Does he want you to lick his fingers? Put them in your mouth? He’s sick of waiting, however, forcing them by your lips until the bitter taste coats your tongue. “Eat it.” he looks at you with venom in his stare.
You hold his hand sweetly with both of yours. He watches you as you suck his fingers, internally thinking how much better you are doing this than you are at sucking cock. He bears his teeth, the golden one glimmering in your eye once again as you continue to clean the cum from his digits.
“Thaaaat’s it, good girl. It’ll get the taste of weed out of your mouth.” he tells you. You finish sucking, releasing his fingers with a gentle pop before placing his hand back on your thigh.
He allows his fingers to lightly caress your skin. The pads carefully glide over you as you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him for the final time during this encounter. But he wanted to fuck you, didn’t he? He wanted you to suck him off properly, too. He’ll let it go for today, but this certainly won’t be the one and only time you’ll bare it all for him.
You still owe him for the weed, after all.
He thinks he might set up a depraved little payment plan for you.
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Vampire hero x flirty villain but it’s HEAT SEASON *disappears*
“Shit, you’re a mess.” The villain crossed their arms in front of their chest and tilted their head, clearly amused.
“Yeah, listen…” The hero took in a deep breath. It was worse when they spent time with the villain, it always got worse too. Usually, they would hook up with a stranger but that simply didn’t satisfy them anymore.
The hero didn’t know what was wrong with them, they’d been “alive” for long enough now, they had dealt with this several times and had never had any problems. However, that had changed. And the hero hated change.
“You’re not sick, are you?” The villain took a step towards them. Slowly, they came closer and closer.
“No…no, I’m fine, I…hey, let’s just fight, okay?”
“You seem a little distracted.”
“I’m not.”
“Honey, you’re looking at everything I have to offer except for my pretty face.” The villain was in front of them now and the hero tried to keep their eyes on the villain’s. “I’ve done a little bit of research on vampires. Either you’re starving or…”
The hero grabbed their hand.
“Don’t say it.”
The villain’s smirk widened.
“Why not?”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” the villain said. Their fingers traced the hero’s jawline. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, darling. It’s only natural, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but…” the hero began. They couldn’t control their thoughts, couldn’t control the daydreams about what they’d do with the villain.
They used to think this was a good thing, a pleasurable thing. But it had turned into a curse, had turned into a bottomless pit.
Deep down, the hero feared they had fallen for the villain. They feared they couldn’t be satisfied without them.
“Honey…” the villain said. They were everything the hero wanted in a partner. Intelligent, protective, flirty. They’d known each other for a while now. “You can’t fight in a state like this. I’ll end up on top of you and we’d reach the same outcome.”
The hero squeezed their eyes shut, trying to ignore their criminal libido. They hadn’t even thought about their actions. It was as if their body had carried them through the streets and to the villain’s apartment.
“I can’t ask that of you, it’s not right.” The hero grabbed the villain’s shoulder in search for something to stabilise them. They could feel their pulse banging in their ears.
“But I was the one suggesting it.” The villain caught the shell of the hero’s ear with their teeth softly. They bit down but released them just as quickly when the hero let out a quiet moan. “And you came to me…”
The hero was quiet. They touched the villain’s neck and caressed it, losing themselves to the feeling of someone actually caring about them.
“I can’t always control myself,” the hero whispered. “The biting or sometimes scratching, I can’t—”
“Hmmm,” the villain hummed and the hero was surprised to see a satisfied smile glued to their face. “I’m into that. So, don’t hold back, got it?”
“Are you sure you—?”
“If you’re really desperate we can do it on my desk, right here,” the villain suggested. They pressed the hero’s hips against the table and the hero could only attempt to whisper the villain’s name when they pressed their knee between the hero’s thighs. “What do you think?”
The hero didn’t know if they wanted to bite or devour the villain. Probably both.
“Y-yes, here is totally fine.”
“What a good vampire you are, hm?” the villain whispered against their ear. Their hand crawled up the hero’s thigh, slowly, agonisingly. “Three taps if it’s too much for you. You choose a safe word.”
The hero nodded.
“What do you want in return? Money? Information?”
“In return,” the villain said, their fingers playing with the hero’s underwear, “I want you to beg for it.”
Thus their affair began.
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emphistic · 6 days
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Can't Relate to Desperation
A/N: requested by anon — i apologize for how long this took; this was fun to write
— just a heads-up: this is preschool!Sukuna
“—I was wondering if you could help me with a little favor.”
“Sure, shoot.” Your friend was surprised to see Sukuna — out of all people — approach them, but they didn't show it.
“Y/N’s birthday is pretty soon, and I don’t have any ideas on what to get her.” Sukuna had known you for a long while. But that didn’t mean he knew what you wanted for a birthday present. I mean, he obviously knows your likes and dislikes. Your hobbies and pastimes. Your favorite colors, foods, drinks, movies, even. But none of those gave him an idea for a meaningful birthday present.
“Ohh, yeah. I'm getting her a matching pajama set! Because we’re going to have a sleepover after her party.”
Sukuna mentally raised a brow at that, he thought you guys were already planning on having a sleepover. And he most definitely did not remember inviting anyone else to the sleepover.
“I didn't ask.” Sukuna wanted to get this questionnaire over with already, and go back to playing with you on the swings or something like that.
“Hey! That’s not nice. I’ll tell the teacher.”
“Can you help me or not?”
“No, because you’re a meanie. And meanies don’t deserve my help.” Your friend crossed her arms and turned away from Sukuna, emitting a little ‘hmph’ sound.
“Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Can you just help me?” He couldn't believe he just apologized to someone other than you.
“Fine,” your friend huffed out, turning back around.
All the while, you watched this exchange happen from afar. Earlier, you were back in the classroom, digging through your backpack to find the necklace you had purchased with your early birthday money from your parents. You had planned to give it to Sukuna, but it currently looked like he had acquired another friend.
And, what made it even more disappointing was the fact you spent at least ten minutes looking for him. You waited outside the restrooms, searched the playground, dug through the sandpit — in case he got buried, and even checked the cubbies. Then you took a lap outside, and found him talking to another girl, who happened to be your [second] best friend — (Sukuna being the first).
The smile plastered across your face immediately dropped, and so did the necklace in your hands.
It’s not like Sukuna wasn’t allowed to have other friends, it’s the fact that he doesn't — by choice, obviously — except for you. And it's been that way, ever since you complimented his hair, saying, “I love the pink! It is my favorite color,” which was contrary to many of your other classmates. Most kids actually made fun of him for it, albeit Sukuna would always glare in their direction and the laughter and teasing would stop in an instant.
You couldn't believe your eyes. He usually ignored people who tried to talk to him and pushed aside those who wanted to make friends. So why was he suddenly talking to your friend? Was he trying to replace you? Did he get bored of you? Why were they talking in such a secluded area behind the garbage cans? Was he trying to hide all of this from you?
You wiped your soon watering eyes with your sleeve, grabbed the necklace off the ground, and quickly ran in the opposite direction.
Coincidentally, as soon as Sukuna got all the information he needed from your friend, he saw your figure turning around. Why were you here? He thought.
“Thanks.” Sukuna ran away from your friend, and as soon as he caught up to you, he said, “Hey, where are you going?”
“Nowhere.” You didn't turn around to face him, continuing to run away.
Sukuna came to a halt, staring at your back. What's your problem? Sukuna decided it was probably nothing, and that you just wanted some alone time, so he left you to your alone time and resorted to playing in the sandpit by himself. But it didn't feel the same as when you played with him. The sand was too warm, the sandcastle was off-center with the hills made of sand, the birds’ singing was too loud. Nothing was right.
You had to admit, avoiding Sukuna was like avoiding the sun. You could hide out under roofs and loiter inside the restrooms, but you had to get out eventually. And eventually you did; recess had ended and you had to get back to the classroom to continue your lessons. And who did you sit next to? Take a wild guess.
When you sat down in your seat, you scooted your chair as far as possible away from the boy beside you — who stayed still, utterly confused at your actions, and wondering why the hell you were being this way.
Then, your class was assigned a group project. Sukuna turned to you, expecting the two of you to pair up, but to his surprise, you asked another classmate to pair up instead.
Okay, he thought. Maybe you just want to get social with other people; that's fine. That's normal.
What wasn’t normal was the fact that you continued to blatantly ignore the pink-haired boy even at lunchtime.
Sukuna asked you his usual question, “Do you want to share my juicebox?” And, thank Heavens, you finally looked him in the eye. But then you flatly said, “No,” before turning around and starting to eat your own lunch.
Sukuna frowned. “What’s your deal today? Are you allergic to apple juice now or something?”
“No.” Going back to what you did earlier, you didn't face him this time, choosing to eat your sandwich in peace.
Usually, you gave him the crust of your sandwiches to eat, because you didn’t like how they tasted, and he did, but you decided against that today. Which was a shame, Sukuna was looking forward to eating your sandwich’s crust.
“Geez, okay. Be that way, I guess.” Sukuna stabbed the straw into his juicebox and drank. But like the sandpit, it just wasn't the same.
This continued all day. And I mean all day.
Sukuna was starting to get real upset. This frustrated him deeply. He swore that if you kept on avoiding him and running away every single time he tried to approach you, he was going to end up with white hairs at the age of four.
Did you not want to be his friend anymore? Did you finally grow to dislike his pink hair that you once loved so much? He hoped the answers to those questions were a definite ‘no’.
He hoped the answer to those questions was a definite ‘no’.
Finally defeated and having given up on his searching for you all over school, he walked to the playground, hoping that swinging would clear his head. And God, he was so thankful he did just that. Because upon entering the play area, he found you, already sitting on the swings and swinging sadly, by yourself. You were swinging sadly on the swings, yes, indeed you were.
It was quite an amusing sight, to anyone who didn’t know the context. But Sukuna did, to an extent, at least. He knew you were upset, and that the likely cause was him. It was always him. Always. Good or bad, happy or sad, he was always the cause, for you. But you wouldn’t have it any other way, right?
Your head was low, focused on staring at the ground beneath you as you swung back and forth. Sukuna thought you looked cute like that — your braids dangling in front of your face, as you basked in the sun’s rays.
But then Sukuna remembered the task at hand, and made sure to approach you with caution and much needed confidence [in himself].
When he got closer to you — only a few feet apart — he quickly realized why your head was so low when you raised it to look at him, tears in your doe, yet angelically pure eyes.
He cleared his throat. “Y/N. What’s . . . wrong? What’s upsetting you? . . .Is it me?” He whispered the last part, to the point it was barely audible; but you heard him. You always did.
“Why don’t you go and talk to your other new friend, huh?” You spat out, stifling a hiccup as it came.
“Wait—what?” Sukuna’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Don’t play dumb. I know what you did. I know what you’re doing. You can replace me with whoever you want, I don’t care, not anymore. Now go away so I can play all by my lonesome.
“Y/N, I’m not replacing you. I know you’re a dummy sometimes but. . . Where’d you even get such a ridiculous idea?”
“Oh, so I’m the dummy?” you retaliated.
Then it hit him, you were referring to earlier this morning, when he was talking to your friend for advice on what to get you as a birthday present.
“I—you’ve got it all wrong, Y/N. All wrong. I wasn’t, I’m not, and I would never ever replace you. So get that stupid idea out of your head already. I was just asking her for help to . . . get you . . . something — for your . . . birthday, that’s coming up soon.” He didn’t want to spoil the surprise, but if it would make you feel any better, he couldn’t care less about keeping a silly little secret.
“Oh, Sukunaaa! You could’ve just asked me!” You jumped off the swings, swiftly wiping your teary eyes dry, and tackled Sukuna into a hug. The two of you fell into a giggling mess of tangled limbs on the ground.
And to your surprise, the following week, Sukuna gifted you a necklace at your birthday party. It was a cheap, dainty necklace, that much was obvious. But opening the heart charm revealed a poorly taken, bad quality, photo of you and Sukuna both. You two were smiling like idiots, embraced in a hug, and you recognized the picture to date back to when you visited Sukuna at one of his basketball games. The first game of his that you went to, actually.
The cherry on top was the fact that the necklace he got you was the same necklace you were planning on giving him before you saw him talking to your friend last week.
But, ah, it was whatever. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
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