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#and i keep applying for jobs and just get every door slammed in my fucking face every time
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Anyone else have big dreams and no idea how to realistically achieve them and a fear of inadequacy so they're worried they're going to stagnate in their current situation because they're too afraid to leave it or is that just me?
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justagalwhowrites · 17 days
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Undone
After a stressful week at the office, Joel knows just how to take care of his wife. AKA Joel Miller doms the stress out of you.
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
Warnings: No Outbreak AU. Established relationship, husband and wife. Dom!Joel x Sub!Reader (light). Tiny little age gap (like 5 years? I'm picturing Joel at 44 and reader at 39?) Unprotected P in V sex. Oral sex, F receiving. Creampie. Overstimulation. Aftercare.
Length: 5.4k
A/N: This is totally self indulgent. It's also like... entirely smut. Sorry. But not really. OK love you bye!
Joel knew what you were after the minute you kicked the door closed. 
It was Friday and it had been a hell of a week for you. Joel had done his best to support you through it - he’d finished up one big job on Tuesday and didn’t start the next one until Monday - so he’d taken the lead on keeping the household running while you put in extra hours and came home frustrated and exhausted every night. 
He knew it wasn’t going to magically be better just because it was Friday, so he’d spent the day trying to make the end to your work week as good as he could. He went to the HEB and got your favorite snacks, picked out flowers for the kitchen table, even went by the liquor store on the way home to get everything you’d need to unwind at the end of your day. He started smoking ribs early that afternoon and was outside to sauce them when he heard the door slam behind you. 
Joel didn’t need to see what happened, he knew from the sound that you’d thrown the door open and then kicked it shut behind you. He’d bet the check from his next job that you’d be face down on the couch, your shoes and briefcase a little trail from the front door to the living room. He shook his head, taking a swig of Shiner before closing the smoker and heading inside to find his wife. 
You were exactly where he thought you’d be, taking up almost the entire length of the couch, flat on your stomach, blazer still on but your heels and bags scattered between you and the front door. 
“Aw baby,” he said sympathetically. “That great a day, hm?” 
You made a sound that was caught somewhere between a grunt and a groan. 
“Want to talk about it?” 
You made the sound again and Joel tried not to laugh at it. 
“Here,” he said, coming and adjusting your legs so he could sit beside you on the couch. You groaned as he did but he guided you from lying on your stomach to sitting up to leaning on him, your face in his chest. He put his arm around you and gave you a squeeze. “Tell me what melted down.” 
“We have our quarterly earnings release going out in less than two weeks,” you sighed. “And it’s a shit show. Legal’s been reviewing that shit for what feels like an eternity and I need to issue the goddamn release announcing the date of the full release but I can’t do that until I actually know that legal and financial are going to have stuff sorted in time and the CEO has emailed me twice a day about it the whole week because sure, the legal team definitely falls under my department…” 
Joel held the still mostly full bottle of beer in front of you and you took it from him, your fingers brushing his and you were quiet for a moment as you took a sip before handing it back. 
“Also, HR is going to be the death of me,” you continued, on a tear now. “I swear, it shouldn’t be that hard to find a qualified entry level candidate but here we are, still short staffed 10 weeks after I got the OK to hire. They’ve sent me two resumes, Joel. Two. I called them today to ask how many they’d received and they’ve had 226 candidates apply and they’ve sent me fucking two! I refuse to believe that just one percent of applicants were remotely qualified so I asked them to forward me all the applications since, apparently, recruiting can’t do their damn jobs so I’m going to have to do it for them…” 
Joel nodded along, handing you the beer periodically when he felt you getting too worked up. He found himself, not for the first time, awed by what you did for a living. He didn’t understand much of it, really, and he was thankful he didn’t need to. He wasn’t cut out for that kind of shit. You, on the other hand, had jumped in with both feet when you’d started at your company seven years ago when the two of you had just started dating, You’d risen up the ranks quickly and you now had a team of several dozen people reporting up to you. As gentle and sweet as Joel knew you to be at your core, he knew you were also unflinchingly driven at work. During the COVID shut down, he’d gotten a glimpse of it, listening to you take people - mostly men who seemed to think you weren’t as capable as you clearly were - to task and get things done. He was eternally grateful that, when the two of you fought, you didn’t take him down the way you did people who crossed you in the office. Though that stood in sharp contrast to how Joel heard you talk to the people who reported up to you, with you seemingly always happy to lend an ear or provide guidance or take the heat if they fucked something up that was going outside your department. 
Unfortunately, that meant you had weeks like this one, where plenty went wrong and you had no one to pass the buck to. And he knew as well as you did that you wouldn’t just let something fall apart, not if there was a damn thing you could do about it. Even if that meant working yourself into the ground. 
After a while you just deflated against him and he handed you the beer again. You took a long drink, emptying the bottle, and Joel took it from you to set on the side table. 
“Feelin’ better?” He asked, his nose brushing your hair. 
“Kind of,” you sighed, pressing yourself closer to him. 
“Somethin’ more I can do?” He asked, trying to make sure that he wasn’t nudging you in the direction he was hoping this would go. 
“Yeah,” you said, something shifting in your tone when you said it. No longer frustrated and fed up, instead needy and wanting. You sat up from him and looked at him through your eyelashes, practically pouting. “Turn my brain off for a bit?” 
Joel’s heart picked up, heat and tension already gathering low in him. 
“Aw, my baby need me to fuck her stupid?” He asked, reaching out to cup your face in his hand. His thumb traced along the arch of your cheekbone as his eyes locked on your blown pupils. “You need me to make that big brain of yours slow down for a while, that it?” 
“Yes please,” you breathed. He could feel your skin getting warmer below his touch. 
“Please what?” 
“Please sir,” you said, holding your hands up with your wrists together, like an offering. “Please fuck me stupid. Please sir.” 
He quirked his jaw before he smiled, dark and low.
“Good girl,” he growled. He got up and closed his large hands around your wrists before pulling you sharply to your feet, looking you up and down as he did. There was something that drove him wild, seeing you like this. Dressed in your armor of the business world, a place where lesser men had to go to you for permission to do a goddamn thing, and you came home to him, begging him to strip you down to something small and vulnerable and easily consumed. 
He wasn’t sure why you’d picked him of all people. When you’d met almost eight years earlier, his first thought was that you were way out of his fucking league. A friend of Tommy’s then girlfriend now wife, you were a few years younger than him but had clearly kept your life on the right fucking track the whole time instead of driving it into the ground for a while first. You’d gone to college, built a damn impressive career, had goals and dreams and plans for yourself. You were beautiful and smart and funny and kind and the first time he’d taken your clothes off he was still not entirely sure why you were letting him do it. 
He’d been even more surprised the first time you’d shared with him that you wanted him to take control in the way he was now. 
“I just have to make decisions all the time,” you’d said, folded into a corner of his couch with a glass of wine in your hands. “I just really want to have someone else take over for a while, you know? Not have to make any plans or take care of anybody else, just enjoy and be enjoyed.” 
That, Joel had thought, he could give you. 
It wasn’t something the two of you always indulged in but there were days like this one where you seemed to crave it. Maybe even a step beyond that - you needed it. You needed the safety of Joel’s guidance, the comfort of his control, the ease of his pleasure. He liked to give you those things. More than liked it, sometimes he lived for it. 
Today was one of those days. 
He led you to the bedroom and stood you at the foot of the bed, your wrists still firmly in his hands as his eyes searched yours. 
“You just want to be my little doll, is that it?” He asked, his thumbs brushing the inside of your wrists. Your pulse was heavy and hard. “Want me to take control so all you have to do is feel what I let you feel?” 
“Yes,” you breathed. 
“Yes what.” 
“Yes sir,” you were practically squirming. 
“What are your colors,” he said more than asked. 
“Green, yellow, red,” you answered quickly. 
“Where are you now?” 
“Green.” 
“Good girl,” he guided your hands so they hung at your sides. “Don’t move until I tell you.” 
He watched you resist the urge to nod and he slipped his hands below the lapels of your jacket, running his hands over your skin for a moment before shoving the sleeves down your arms and leaving the blazer in a pile on the floor. He watched you swallow, your throat working and he tried not to think about making you kneel and taking his cock into that pretty throat of yours. He knew just how good it would feel while you sucked him, how fucking good it would feel to come down your throat. 
Maybe later. Right now, he needed to take care of you. And that’s exactly what he was going to do. 
*** 
When Joel touched you like this, it was like something unspooled inside yourself. There had been a knot in your stomach for days at least - maybe longer - and nothing had worked to untangle it. Not crossing things off your to do list at the office, not the yoga class you’d skipped lunch to take, not the iced latte your assistant had ducked out to grab you that afternoon. But Joel’s hands on your skin as they slipped the slender straps of your satin top down your arms were better than anything else, especially when your mind wasn’t going a mile a minute thinking of ways to please him in return. You watched as he moved to undress you, his eyes heavy and hot and hungry as your top pooled around your hips. He reached around your body to unhook your bra, casting it aside before cupping your breasts in his large palms, groaning as he did. 
“You feel so good,” his thumbs brushed your nipples. “My soft, pretty fuckin’ girl.” 
“Joel,” you whimpered, clenching your hands into fists to keep from reaching out to touch him. He’d told you to stay still and you had to obey. If you didn’t, you knew he’d drag out your first orgasm for what felt like an eternity, bringing you just to the edge of it but never letting you fall into your climax until you were a desperate, dripping, squirming mess. 
“What, baby?” He almost cooed at you, just a hint of a teasing edge to his tone. “What’s my baby need?” 
“More,” you whined. “I need more, please, I need…” 
He took his hands off you then and looked you in the eye and you almost reached for him before you caught yourself. 
“Who decides what you need right now,” he said. You moaned and he ignored you. “Who. Tell me, pretty girl.” 
“You,” you said. 
“That’s right,” he nodded. “And I’ll give you more when I decide you need more and I decide I’m done enjoyin’ the parts of you I’m enjoyin’ right now. So. You stand still like a good little doll and we’ll see when I’ll let you have more. Got it?” 
“Yes,” you said. 
He took your chin in his fingers, forcing you to look him in the eye. 
“Yes what.” 
“Yes sir.” 
His crooked smile dimpled his cheek. 
“Good girl.” 
He returned to touching you, running his large and callused hands over your shoulders to your chest, holding and massaging your breasts and you could tell he was taking his time less for himself and more because he knew what it was doing to you. That it was making you achy and desperate and the thoughts that had been weighing on you all day at the office were slipping out of your mind, drifting far away into the ether. 
“Think I remember you sayin’ something about more?” Joel said, his voice low and gravelly as his hand slipped over your stomach, below the bunched fabric of your shirt, below the waistband of your pants until his fingertips were brushing your bare mound inside your panties. You whimpered. “How about I give you some more, hm?” 
His index finger reached out and brushed the top of your clit, sending a shiver through you, all the heat you had inside yourself pooling low in your stomach. 
Joel chuckled. 
“Think she likes it.” 
He pressed a little lower, a little firmer, working your sensitive nub in slow, languid circles. 
“She like this too?” 
You nodded frantically. 
“Thought I told you not to move,” Joel said, stern. 
“But…” 
“No buts,” he cut you off. “You wanted to give me control so you give me control. Otherwise, you won’t get what you want. Got it?” 
“Yes sir.” 
“You’re lucky,” he said as he went to open your pants. “Got me all worked up, too. Too worked up to draw this out the way you deserve, squirmin’ the way you are.” 
He got on his knees in front of you and gathered the fabric of your shirt, pants and underwear in his hands and pulled them all down in one go, the sudden exposure of your skin to the air making you gasp and goosebumps scatter over you in sharp little pin pricks. 
“Fuck, there you are,” he groaned, his hands coming to grip the thick swell of your ass, his fingers digging into the meat of you as he pressed a kiss to your stomach just below your belly button. You moaned, wanting nothing more than to tangle your fingers in his curls. You clenched your fists tighter, nails digging into your palms, acutely aware of where he was touching you because of the absence of him everywhere else. 
He trailed his mouth down to your slit, his tongue dipping into you there, brushing against your clit, the heat of his mouth in sharp contrast to the cold air against your wetness. His hands slipped up your back, finding your waist before Joel stood, his still clothed body so close to your naked one. 
“Lie down for me,” he said, a little breathless. “Middle of the bed.” 
You rushed to obey and watched hungrily as Joel undressed himself, his black t-shirt coming up and over his head, his jeans opening to reveal his tight boxer briefs with his thick, hard cock straining the fabric. He took off everything before crawling up the bed over you and, for half a moment, you thought he really was going to give into you that quickly, give you exactly what you wanted that fast. But instead of settling between your thighs with his heavy length brushing against your slit and his mouth on yours, he fell to the side of you, the weight of him jostling the mattress. You turned your head to look at him, confused, and he laughed, dark and low. 
“You didn’t think you were gonna make me give in that fast, did you?” He asked. He slid one arm below your ribs, his hand coming up and around the back of you to hold your breast while his other hand teased a feather light path down from your throat, over your chest, your stomach to your slit. “No, not done with this yet.” 
“But…” 
“You just lie still and let me worship you,” he said, his palm cupping your mound, his middle finger settling between your lower lips as he put gentle pressure against your clit. The tip of his finger circled your dripping entrance but didn’t slip inside where you were aching and desperate for him. “Want to enjoy you for a while.” 
He didn’t give you a chance to protest, his mouth finding just the right spot on your throat at the same moment he added pressure to your clit, grinding his hand against your most tender place and making your back arch below his touch. 
Joel kissed and licked and sucked along your neck, your collarbone, your breast, his cock brushing against your thigh as he manipulated your body and you could feel his precome on your skin when it did and you were desperate to touch him there, to feel just how hard you’d made him, make him start to unravel the way he was doing to you. 
“Don’t even think about it,” he said, a finger sliding inside of you, making you groan. 
“But I want…” 
He pulled back from you to look in your eyes and you could tell from the glassy look on his face that you probably already looked like a fucked out mess. 
“You tryin’ to make me feel good or you want it for yourself?” He asked, brows raised. You tried to find the words but couldn’t. He nodded. “S’what I thought, you sit still like I fuckin’ told you. You try to touch me and I won’t let you come, got it? This is about you, not me so you’re gonna lay there and take it, understand?” 
“Yes sir,” you whimpered. 
He went back to working you over, adjusting so that he could fully kiss down your body until his head was between your thighs, two fingers buried inside of you as he looked up your body to your face. 
“New rules,” he said, pressing his lips to your clit for a moment and sucking it into his mouth before continuing. “Want you to come and I want you to come hard. You’re allowed to touch my head to put me where you need but you do anything else with those hands and we’re startin’ over. Understood?” 
“Yes sir.” 
“Good girl.” 
He practically dove into your pussy, his thumb working your clit, his tongue licking deep into your channel. The fire in your belly burned brighter and it was like you could feel all the blood in your body pulling into the center of you. Your hands flew to his head, the thick of his hair and the heat of his scalp almost sharp against your fingers after having felt nothing but your own palms for what felt like forever. You rocked your hips against his face as he ate at you, a finger slipping into you alongside his tongue, working the inside of you deftly so that you were never empty but never lacking the friction of him moving in you. His fingertip curled into the soft, sensitive place inside of you that he found so easily now, adding the perfect amount of pressure as his thumb and nose worked your clit and you felt your pussy get so tight and hot you worried, for half a second, that it would hurt him before every worry flew out of your head entirely, your entire body flooded with waves of pleasure as you came on his tongue. 
Joel worked you through your orgasm, never letting up as you moaned and panted, your grip on his hair easing as your body started to go limp. Your pussy was so sensitive when your climax eased but Joel didn’t pay your little whimpers any mind. He pulled his mouth from you but added another finger, fucking into you with his hand and adjusting so his palm was grinding against your clit as he did. 
“There you go,” he panted, wiping your slick from his mouth before taking his cock in his hand and working himself with it. “That what you needed, pretty girl?” 
“Yes sir,” you whimpered. 
“Good,” he said, his eyes ranging over you, dark and hot. “Because now it’s my turn.” 
He pulled his fingers from you and spread your thighs a little wider, lining his cock up with your still weakly grasping hole for half a moment before thrusting deep into you in one devastating go. You gasped at the stretch of him filling you like that, the inside of you still soft and tender from your orgasm. Your fingers scrambled at the blanket below you, your back arched and taut and you tried to hold onto something - anything - in your head beside how he was splitting you open. 
“I say you could use your hands like that?” He asked, his fingers finding your wrists and clamping around them. He pressed deep inside you and folded over you, bringing your hands with him, pressing your wrists down into the mattress over your head. “Didn’t think so. You’re my little doll right now, ain’t you? Mine to do what I want with and I want you to take it.” 
“Joel,” you whimpered. 
“That ain’t my name right now, is it?” 
“Sir,” you corrected, resisting the urge to rock your hips up against him. “Please!” 
“Please what?” 
You couldn’t put words to what you wanted to ask for and Joel just smirked before releasing your wrists and sitting up, looking down over your body to where he disappeared inside of it. 
“What I thought,” he said, his hands pressing your thighs wide before his thumb trailed over where you were split open on him to your clit, teasing you in a slow circle that made you jerk involuntarily below him. He took it away, his hand on the soft flesh of your thigh again. “You leave those hands there and take it. You can take it, pretty girl. Know you can.” 
With that, he pulled back, slow and aching, before fucking back into you, hard and fast with a forceful grunt. You watched him fuck you, his cock slamming into you with enough force that it jerked your body up and down the bed. You were lost in it, the way you could see his muscles flex, the way his eyes ranged over you - watching the place he was spreading you open and the way your tits bounced for him and up to your face to meet your eyes and back again. It was almost hypnotic, like there was nothing else in the world that existed outside of him. He was controlling you totally, fucking into you with enough force that you couldn’t even breathe out of sync with his thrusts, your body just something he could manipulate and pleasure and use however he saw fit. 
You weren’t sure how long he fucked you like that before his hands ran over your thighs to your core, his thumbs brushing along your clit, pressing into you there and working you in hard little circles as your channel started to tighten around him again. 
“There we go,” he panted. “Got another one right there don’t you? You’re gonna give it to me, aren’t you pretty girl. Gonna give me everything, ain’t you?”
“Yes sir,” you whined, your fingernails digging into your palms as you fought to keep your hands still. 
“Good girl,” he pressed himself deep as he worked your clit and returned to his same punishing rhythm, the head of him finding the place inside you he’d claimed for himself. He left one thumb on your clit, his other hand stretching up and over your stomach, fingers splaying wide on you until it was in the middle of your chest where you knew he could feel how your heart was pounding behind your ribs. The feel of him everywhere was overwhelming, the tight spool of pleasure that had never fully relaxed after your first orgasm already wound unbearably tight again. 
“Want you to come for me,” he said, voice needy. “Want you to be a good girl and come. Give it all to me, baby, want you to just let go and give it all to me, let it all go, c’mon and come for me, make me fuckin’ feel it…” 
You cried out as you obeyed, your channel fluttering over his cock as he kept fucking you deep and hard. You could feel your orgasm in the very center of you, in every muscle and every nerve, your climax taking hold of you so firmly that you felt a gush of liquid rush out of you. 
“Fuck, there you go,” he said, not letting up. “Fuck baby, love when you squirt for me, such a good fuckin’ girl…” 
The wet snap of his hips into you was obscene and, as your orgasm eased, your body was already drawing tight again. Your heart raced and you could feel everything, everything, so sharp and harsh and overwhelming. Your head swam, your skin prickled. 
“Love feeling you come for me,” Joel was still fucking into you, hard and bruising like he was trying to climb inside your skin and claim a place for himself there. “Love when you get all tight and desperate, love making you all needy…” 
You let out a fucked out little whimper, tears pricking at your eyes, not able to see straight through the haze of your already building orgasm. Joel leaned over you, his cock buried deep but going still. 
“You with me, pretty girl?” He asked, his hands sliding up your arms to find your wrists, holding you gently in place. You couldn’t seem to find the words to answer, too overstimulated to think of anything beyond how he was filling you and surrounding you. “Gimme a color, baby.” 
“Yellow,” you managed. 
 He took your limp wrists in his large palms and guided your hands to his skin, resting them on his broad shoulders. 
“That help?” He asked. “You can nod.” 
You nodded quickly, your breathing evening out, body still tight and strung out. 
“Color?” 
“Green,” you said, the tears that were in your eyes slipping down your cheeks but not being replaced by new ones. 
“Good,” he shifted inside you, pulling back a little before thrusting in again. “Because I ain’t done with you yet. You keep those hands right where I put ‘em and just focus on coming one more time for me, need you to milk me dry, baby.” 
But his pace eased, less frantic and more desperate, working you slow and firm from within. He buried his face into your neck, his mouth finding that place that sent shocks of pleasure through your whole body. His hands ranged over you, fingers hungry and grasping at your skin, his hips working against your clit as his cock found its home deep within you. 
“Know you’re close,” he said against your skin, lips still close enough to brush against you as he spoke. He kissed along your neck, nose teasing along your throat. “You got one more in you, baby, I know you do.” 
“Sir,” you whimpered, pleading, not sure if you wanted to come or wanted to just dissolve. 
“You can come,” he fucked you slow and deep. His public bone pressed against your clit and your back arched. “Want you to come, want to feel you come. Make me feel you, baby. Be a good girl and make me feel you.” 
You dared to let yourself move, just enough that you could rock your hips up against him, working yourself with his body as you felt him grow impossibly thicker and harder inside you. Or, maybe, you were just tightening further around him, body clinging to him in one last desperate push for closeness as your climax hit again. You cried out with it and you couldn’t just leave your hands on Joel’s shoulders, instead latching onto his hair and sliding down his back, pulling him flush against your body so the only thing left in the world was him and his skin and the thick of his cock as he started to pulse inside of you. 
Your orgasm almost hurt it was so intense. You could feel every inch of Joel’s cock in you, the heat and softness of his skin against you, every muscle in your body going rigid and tense for a moment before relaxing. Your vision went spotty and you got light headed and you lost track of time. 
The next thing you knew, you were in Joel’s arms, cradled against his chest, his fingers trailing a gentle path along the edge of your hairline and jaw, thumb brushing the plush of your lips. 
“There you are,” he said softly and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his large hand coming to rest against your cheek as you turned your head to look at him. His eyes were soft and warm and there was a gentle smile on his face. “How are you feelin’ love?” 
You took stock of your body for a moment, everything feeling light and airy. 
“I’m good,” you smiled a little. 
“Yeah?” He said, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Take a deep breath for me, OK?” 
You nodded a little and did as you were told, only realizing then just how little your lungs had been inflating before. 
“How’s that feelin’?” He asked. “Good?” 
You just nodded, still smiling. 
“How about this for the night,” he said, going back to tracing an easy trail over your skin with his fingertips. “In a few minutes, I get up and get you water and a cocktail while you put on that pretty little swimsuit of yours. You float in the water while I look at ya and finish those ribs in the smoker…” 
“You’re making me ribs?” You almost pouted, your brows going up. 
Joel chuckled. 
“Yeah, that OK?” 
“That’s my favorite,” you said, feeling like you might be about to cry. 
“I know it is, baby,” he said, kissing your temple again. “S’why I made ‘em. Got that potato salad you like, green beans, cornbread too. Even got that chocolate cake you like so much…” 
“The Oreo one?” You sniffed, tearing up. 
“The Oreo one,” he brushed your hair back. “You still with me there baby?” 
“Yeah,” you nodded, crying a little. You weren’t entirely sure why, just every emotion you’d had over the past week seeming to bubble up at once. “I think so…” 
“You’re OK,” Joel said, pulling you closer, his lips gentle on your skin. “I’ve got you.” 
You just nodded against him and focused on how his skin felt on yours, his warmth and strength grounding while your mind was still swimming. 
“What about after dinner?” You sniffed. 
“We can watch one of those movies you like so much,” he said. “I know the ones that’ve been on your list, you don’t gotta pick unless you want to. Sound good?” 
“Yeah,” you nodded. “But… can we just stay here for a little while first? Please?” 
“Course baby,” he said. “Whatever you need. I’ll take care of you.” 
You nuzzled into his skin and breathed deep and you didn’t really know why you’d been so stressed when you got home to begin with. You just knew that you had Joel and that, as long as he was there, everything else would be OK.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months
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kinktober: role playing
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words: 1.2k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, role playing (maid), m receiving oral, p in v sex
you adjust your skirt, smoothing down the frilly white apron. you turn and admire yourself in the mirror, leaning forward slightly and admiring the way your bum peaks out from under the short skirt at the slightest bit of movement. 
you head into the living room, hoping to genuinely get some dusting done as you pick up your cloth, running it over various surfaces, focusing especially on the fireplace mantle and the various trinkets and photos that are collecting dust.
you hear the door slam shut and smile gently, turning to watch rafe enter the room over your shoulder. you quickly turn back to the mantle, leaning down and rubbing at a dirty spot.
“why, hello, mr. cameron.” you say.
“hello, y/n.” rafe says, moving and sitting down on the couch, eyes on you as you clean. you move to the coffee table directly in front of the couch, rearranging the candles the sit there, as well as cleaning a bit of dirt that came from the plant decorating the living room.
“how was work, mr. cameron?” you ask, bending directly in front of him, knowing exactly where his eyes are.
“good.” he says breathlessly, watching as you straighten, giving you a swat on the ass when you move to walk away.
“sir!” you gasp, hand coming to your bum, right over the spot that he slapped, dropping your rag.
“come here, y/n.” he says, holding a hand out to you. you gently place your hand in his, but as soon as your skin touches his, he tugs you onto his lap, forcing another gasp out of you.
“i have something that needs cleaning.” rafe says, bouncing you on his lap, letting you feel what is swelling in his pants.
you smile wickedly, turning and looking at rafe. “well, then i must clean it. is that not my job here, mr. cameron?”
“it is.” rafe says, “on your knees.”
you slide to your knees between rafes legs, hands moving carefully as you unbutton his pants, bringing the zipper down slowly. he lifts his hips slightly so you can tug them down, along with his underwear.
his cock is hard when it’s revealed. you blink up at rafe, “sir, what do you think is the best way to clean it? should i use my hands… or my mouth?”
“definitely mouth.” rafe says, hand coming to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the blush you applied earlier.
“right away then, mr. cameron.” you say, leaning forward and licking at the head of his cock. you grab the base to hold it steady, lapping and enjoying the salty taste on your tongue.
“fuck, you are cleaning me so well.” rafe says as you lick at his shaft, following every vein with your tongue. you keep your eyes up at rafe while you sink your lips over his cock, watching the expression of pleasure on his face.
you begin to bob your head, keeping your hand on the base of his cock, your lips meeting it with every dip and suck.
“going to have to pay you double for this, doing such a good job.” rafe praises you, hand in your hair as he helps control your movements up and down.
you pull of his cock with a smile, “i have another idea how to clean up this mess, mr. cameron.” 
you stand up, heels pushing into the rug. you twirl around, knowing your underwear is on show as the material spins with you.
you smile back at rafe and bend down, flipping your skirt up and toying with the material of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. before you can even step out of the underwear, rafes head is pushed in between your legs, tongue lapping at your clit.
“mr. cameron!” you shout, pushing your pussy back against his mouth. you step out of your underwear while he eats at your pussy, leaning back after a minute once he’s satisfied.
you keep your back to rafe as you bend down, reaching behind you to grab his cock and line it up with your pussy. you slowly sink down on him, letting out a moan as he fills you.
“there you go, baby.” rafe says, letting out a low groan as you place your hands on his knees, giving yourself just a moment to relax, to adjust, before you plant your heels in the ground and begin to raise and lower yourself on his cock. 
rafe moves his hips up to meet yours, a harsh slapping sound emitting, echoing across the living room. 
“fuck, mr. cameron, feels so good.” you let out a low moan, legs straining but you continue to move, wanting to please rafe.
“yeah, baby, so good, bounce f’me.” he commands, hands gripping your ass and helping you move. you smile at his praise, clearly pleasing him.
you push down, clenching your pussy around his cock tightly, not allowing him to move any more as you circle your hips, grinding down against him to the sound of his moans.
“fuck, turn around, baby, need to see your tits.” you pull off rafes cock, placing your knees on either side of his lap, taking his cock in your hand and pushing yourself back down, not wanting to be apart from him for long.
rafe smiles now that your boobs are in his face, pushed up by the outfit you’ve put on. rafe tugs at the material, testing it’s strength before using both hands, ripping the top of the outfit and exposing your bare chest.
“sir!” you shout, moaning when he leans forward and sucks your nipple into his mouth, hands coming to your hips, lifting up and down, signaling you to begin to move. you bounce the best you can, raising onto your knees and then back down to fully sit on his cock.
“mmm.” rafe hums around your nipple, moving to the other side, flicking his tongue quickly over the hard bud.
you move a hand down, rubbing over your clit as you move, keeping the other firmly planted on rafes shoulder to help you move. “god, you’re good.” rafe groans, pulling his head away from your chest, resting it against the back of the couch as he watches your tits sway with every movement.
“i’m close, sir.” you say, and rafe nods in agreement, letting out a moan at your every movement. 
your fingers speed up, no longer able to move as your legs tense up, but rafe quickly takes over, pushing his back into the couch and thrusting up into you as you cum, back arching as you allow rafe to continue to use your pussy, forcing his cock into you until he cums and pulls you down tightly. you let your whole body weight down on him, sitting in his lap and leaning forward, pressing your lips together.
"how was that mr. cameron?" you ask with a smile.
rafe laughs, leaning his head back. "enough of that." he chastises you. "i love the surprise of coming home to you in this little outfit, but give me my girlfriend back."
you smile and lean forward to kiss rafe again. "you liked the outfit though, rafey?"
"very sexy." he hums.
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ravenwitch45 · 5 months
Note
Ok so you know how striker was lit on fire I'm the new episode? Can j request headcanons where striker comes back to his house and his female s/o helps him? Feel free to ignore
(Yeah good lord, I felt so bad when that happened, he deserved it and I don't blame Blitz but man, how desperate and scared he seemed by it fucking hurt, so love this idea, I'll do my best to give the cowboy some comfort.)
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Striker getting help from his Fem SO with his burns, reluctantly XP
Striker practically slammed the door open before closing it, startling you greatly, his clothes were singed and his tail was wrapped around his waist, a burn mark on the tip showing why he was avoiding dragging it across the ground, a very disgruntled look on his face
"What the hell happened?! Are you okay?!"You exclaim, causing him to groan a bit "Nothing! A job just went a little so-south that's all"He grumbles awkwardly, you of course say that's bullshit noting the several burn on his body and clothing and he's too tired to argue with you.
You settle for getting him to sit down so you could help with the burns, pulling out some cool burn gel to place on the burns after he strips down with some difficulty to show you it all, you can't fix the clothes a seamster is probably what he needs but that can wait.
He growls at the sting and chill as you apply the gel at every burn, the one on his tail being particularly difficult as he keeps squirming and rattling it, making you pin it down so you could actually do it, which he grumbles at of course, even more so when you tell him he'll have to try not to move his tail all that much so he doesn't fling the gel off.
Striker is far from a nice patient, but he's not fighting you much either, just complaining and groaning which you ignore both, cause you know he needs this if he doesn't want these wounds for longer then necessary, maybe even avoid them scarring too badly if at all.
You wish he called you when it happened, since a quick application helps more but you don't complain, your just glad he's alive and not sick from the wounds getting infected or something. You still got to him relativley quick.
Eventually you finish apply stuff on all the burns you can see with him just in his boxers before asking if there's any other burns you should know about, he stiffens at that before saying no, and you immediately know he's lying.
You know the routine well enough, so you just ask where it is? His eyes widen but he still shakes his head, refusing to say it, too embarassing so you ask again and he snaps "Why do you care so much?! I can do it myself Y/N! Haven't you helped enough with the aftermath of me being pathetic already!"
You go silent for a second before raising a brow "Okay first, I'm helping you Striker, there's no reason to be like that, and second, in no way are you pathetic! What got that idea in your head?"
"Because I keep losing Y/N! Whenever a job puts me up against them, or anyone with a decent bit of skill, I lose horribly and end up having to run away with my fucking tail between my legs, I keep getting humliated!"
"Having a run of bad luck doesn't make you pathetic, Losing some fights doesn't either, what matters is that your alive for satan's sake! I know how quick death happens around here, so you surviving is strong in my eyes."You counter making him grumble
"I... I just hate not being strong enough, or smart enough it's just... I hate feeling this weak sometimes."The cowboy admits before you hug him, making sure to not irritate any of his burns "Your not weak, it's strong to live to fight again another day, and I'm sure you'll win this one day, one way or another, just let yourself rest, and give yourself some grace Striker."
He awkwardly nods, thanking you with a slight blush on his face and you say your welcome before smirking, "Now where's the last burn Striker?" causing him to sigh as he grips the elastic of his boxers "Not a word after we're done, ya hear?"
"No promises."
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ohforficsakelibrary · 6 months
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The Margay: Chapter 5
'That Your Husband?'
prev / series masterlist / main masterlist
Summary: Santiago recruits Frankie to contract for a covert agency that pairs them with danger in more ways than one. A series of one-shot snippets taking place during and around missions.
Pairing: Frankie Morales x Sniper!OFC
Word Count: ~4.9K
Rating: Explicit 18+ / masturbation (f & m), dirty talk, Frankie offers guidance, exchanging of naughty pictures and suggestive texts / tw for physical violence (I may have beat Frankie up a bit) / Minors DNI
A/N: Frankie's grounded with an injury. Audrey's good at care packages. They both need each other more than they realize.
Every time I open this file I keep fucking with this chapter so please take it now. Your effort to overlook anything that seems overworked is much appreciated.
Their third job out, Frankie manages to get himself into a bit of a scrape. 
When a hurricane flattened Barbuda’s infrastructure it created opportunity. A perfect little hideaway among the wreckage. 
A waypoint for heroin exporters to rest their weary heads. 
It’s just a seaplane over to St. Thomas and U.S. territory and a stack of bills pressed into a customs officer’s palm before making the jump to mainland soil.
And in the process of surveilling a safe house, Frankie manages to trip a sensor. 
A blow to the back of the head drops him before Audrey or Santi can get to his location.
And so they lie in wait for the right moment to spring him free.
Santi fidgets, buzzing with impatience.
Audrey turns to stone.
Nothing else will contain her rage.
When half the men leave for beers at a local bar, Audrey and Santiago split directions, cutting a quick lap around the house.
“You take the front door, I’ll take the back,” Pope directs their breach in hushed tones. When they’re in position, Audrey counts them down before putting a boot through a rusted lock.
They can hear Frankie scream. And Audrey’s stomach roils. 
In pain.
In sympathy. 
In possession.
“I got him,” she spits into their comms, prowling through shadows between the bare lightbulbs that hang from the ceiling while the incessant buzz from the generator outside covers her tracks.
They’ve only left two men guarding their catch.
Well, one guard who’s slumped in a chair in the corner fucking around on his phone, and a taller man who has Frankie on his knees by the hair, arms zip-tied behind his back. He asks who sent Frankie and when he’s told to go fuck himself he lands a a kick Frankie’s ribs that has him screaming through gritted teeth before briefly losing consciousness. 
The man catches Frankie, holding him up by the roots of his hair, repeating the question with the toe of his boot dangerously close to knocking against Fish’s balls. 
“I need those,” Audrey mutters before a bullet finds the taller man between the eyes and the butt of her gun finds the seated man’s temple. “Santi, need you in here,” she fires off into comms before dropping her gun and dropping to her knees to keep a woozy Frankie from slamming teeth-first into the floor. 
She cradles his face and surveys it, peeling each eyelid up in turn to check his reaction to light. She's not sure how hard he was knocked in the head.  
“Thought you said you weren’t gonna save me,” is the first thing out of his mouth when he sees that it’s her and not Pope who has his face in their hands. 
“Yeah, I dunno how to fly a chopper,” she lies with a wink, “so Pope and I are swimming to Antigua without you and I just got my hair done.”
Frankie manages a snort before he spits blood onto tile. His bottom lip is split, left eye swollen shut and blooming a neat shade of purple. Road rash or something akin to it mars one side of his face.
Frankie rests his cheek against her shoulder and she supports his weight as she searches him with her hands, checking for slashed fabric and gaping wounds. For areas of tender heat insulating broken bones.
For bullet wounds.
Frankie yelps when her right hand applies light pressure to his side over his tactical vest.
"Okay, okay, I've got you, Frankie."
"That bit's bad," he groans.
“Can you stand?” She snaps a ceramic knife through the zip ties binding his hands behind his back as they hear two more shots and Santi calling “clear.”
“Yeah. Yeah I think so.”
But he can't right himself from where he's leaned heavy against her.
She shifts to kneel with his arm around her shoulders and her fist gripping his belt, hauling him up with her when she stands.
"Take your time, find your feet," she whispers, a stone under his weight.
“You lovebirds good in here?” Santi pokes his head around the corner.
“Lovebirds is a strong word,” Frankie quips and Pope is glad for his sense of humor, but he can't help the way his mouth presses into a tight line as he winces.
Frankie's so pale.
“Get him to the car,” Audrey pauses to allow Santi to shoulder Frankie’s weight. “Careful of his left side. Find anything other than the stash in the dining room?”
“Nah.”
“Alright get him out of here I’m right behind you.”
She sets charges around the safe house on a delay, pausing when she passes the room Frankie was held in. She grabs his hat off of the floor and slips it on backwards before taking off towards the car.
Santi guns it the moment she slips into the open back of their Range Rover.
“How is he doing?” Pope chances a glance back over his shoulder at where Fish is laid out across the folded back seats.
“Keep driving. Do you know how to fly a chopper?”
“That’s what I have him for.”
“I do,” Frankie whispers.
“You don’t have to do anything but stay awake for me," she demands, sweeping sweat-slick hair off of his forehead.
But it’s becoming increasingly hard, it seems.
“Fuck,” she mutters under her breath. “Santi, do you know how to place an IV?’
“No?” He sounds panicked. “Am I supposed to?”
“No, I’ll do it now then. Just…call out before we hit anything rough.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“Keep. Driving.” The urgency in her voice has Santiago’s heart in his throat.
He can hear Audrey shuffling around for med supplies. 
He can hear how Frankie whimpers every time they hit a bump.
“I’m fine, babe,” he tries weakly to brush his knuckles against her stomach. She takes his hand and holds his arm out turning on the flashlight on her phone before slipping it into the front pocket of her tac vest. A tourniquet tightens around his arm Frankie hears the squishy crunch of an IV bag being prepped. 
Mercifully, the vessels in his arm aren’t shy. 
“You’ve got sexy veins, Morales.”
He starts to make an off-color comment but she tells him to keep quiet and hold still. Pope holds the car as even as he can, slowing down just a hair.
Audrey steadies her breathing and lines the needle up like lining up a shot, sinking it perfectly between beats of her own heart.
“We’re good, Santi, step on it,” she hooks the IV bag to the roof and tapes the needle in place on his arm.
Mercifully it’s only five minutes until they hit the helipad. 
Audrey grabs Santiago by the shirt before he can get out. 
Speaking quickly and quietly so Frankie can’t hear.
“He’s gonna need to be helped into that bird, can you walk him? I’ll hold outside until he’s in the back, just keep the IV bag up, try not to dislodge it.”
“Done.”
They have him loaded into the chopper in two minutes and Audrey has the bird in the air in another sixty seconds.
“Thought you said…couldn’t fly?” Frankie mumbles from the back seat.
“Yeah, you know how parents tell their kids that Santa Claus is real?”
They unplug Frankie’s headset after that.
So that he can't hear the worry in their voices.
“He’s not in a good spot, is he?” Santi glances back at the pained expression on Fish’s face.
“I think his ribs are cracked under there and he’s bleeding from places he shouldn’t be.” Her body is calm but there’s urgency to her words.
And anger.
“Can you get a call through to Davis? We need to change our itinerary.”
Santi’s voice crackles over the communications channel after two minutes. “They’re saying he can’t be reached,.
“Tell them it’s me.”
And he's impressed when it works but he doesn’t question it, plugging her headset into the satellite phone when they’re connected before he slips into the back seat to keep an eye on Fish. He only hears half of the conversation from there on out.
“Davis, change of plans, we’re in the helo now, but I’m going to need a charter waiting, Morales needs medical attention.”
“I’m thinking PR, likely fractured ribs with internal bleeding, he’s in and out. He needs his head scanned to rule that out too.”
“How quick can Gordon get down there?”
“Roger.”
“Beautiful. Tell him I owe him one.”
“Fine, then we’ll call it even.”
“Confirmed. Over and out.”
_____
Frankie remembers only the whirr of seaplane engines and red lights flashing through his eyelids before he wakes with a start the next afternoon.
“Easy, hermano, hey,” Santiago soothes with a smile, sitting up in the chair next to Frankie’s hospital bed.
“Where?”
“A hospital in Puerto Rico, hey, take it easy,” Santi tosses a frayed paperback onto a side table and shifts closer to where Frankie is trying to sit up. “Hey, don’t move too much, here,” Santiago puts a remote in Frankie’s hand for him to adjust the bed rather than himself.
“You took a few nasty hits. Four broken ribs, nicked your liver and caused bleeding. Probably got a bad headache too, but no permanent damage as far as we can tell.”
“I feel like shit,” Frankie croaks.
“I would expect that you do. Had us worried for a second there. You want some water?”
“Us. Where’s?”
“Jane Bond is catching some z’s,” Santi holds a paper cup out to Frankie and nods at the floor on the other side of Frankie’s bed. 
He winces when he brings the cup to his split lip, glancing down to where Audrey is curled up on a blanket. He takes a few sips and hands the cup back to Pope.
“You said Puerto Rico?” His voice is thick with disuse.
“Antigua didn’t have the facilities, so she hooked you up,” Santiago continues in hushed tones. “Called in a favor and flew out the best doc that Davis has. Stayed up the whole night until they had you scanned and stabilized. I told her to head out and sleep in a real bed, but she’s fucking stubborn.”
“Mm, thanks, Santi,” Audrey murmurs before she realizes who he’s talking to.
She’s quick to her feet and quicker with a soft smile.
“Francisco.”
“Hi,” he tries to mirror it but his whole face is tight.
“How are you feeling?”
“Pretty fucking sore.”
And Audrey hums a laugh, throaty and warm and not unlike she does when they’re in each other’s arms.
She gently brushes matted hair off of his forehead but stops short of caressing his cheek even though she’s burning with the need to do it.
To touch him.
Feel the warmth of his skin and the beat of his heart and everything that assures her he’s still alive. 
To let her skin confirm what her eyes are seeing.
A soft knock sounds on the glass wall of the hospital room and a man motions for Audrey to join him in the hallway. After a few minutes they both step in.
“Frankie, this is Nick Gordon. He’s the best doctor I know, patched me up more times than I can count. We were in the same class and he was gracious enough to fly down. He’s been looking after you.”
“She threatened me,” Gordon quips with a wink and an outstretched palm. “Happy to see you’re awake.”
Frankie manages a shake as best he can with the cannula in his hand.
“I was just telling Aud that we’ll run a few more tests now that you’re up, go through a little bit of basic physical therapy and then have you back in here. We’ll probably keep you another night, possibly two, if that’s okay with you?”
“Yeah. Yeah, whatever you need,” Frankie tries to sit up straighter and winces.
“Yeah alright, at ease Morales, you don’t have to impress me,” Gordon offers a small smile before turning to Santi and Audrey. “It’ll be a few hours, so if you guys want to grab something to eat now’s the time.”
“Yeah,” Santi runs a hand down his face and scratches at stubble. “Could probably use a shower too.”
Audrey swings around the bed and grabs her phone, pausing to gently squeeze Frankie’s foot, silently reassuring him that she’ll be back.
"C'mon," Santiago still has to coax her to leave.
“We’re booked in across the street, text me when you guys are through. Doesn't matter what time it is.” she says to Nick.
“Yes, ma’am.” Gordon catches her arm when he sees the look in her eyes. "Hey, I've got him, Aud."
“Thank you,” she whispers and slips out the door.
_____
Audrey and Santiago stumble into some tourist trap restaurant on the water because it’s the closest thing they can find with cold beer on the menu. They don’t speak again until there are appetizers in front of them.
“He’s got someone at home, right?” Audrey asks, taking a sip of beer. “To keep an eye on him. Help him out? Might be hard getting around the first few weeks, showering, cooking, all that. The less he does the quicker he’ll heal.”
“He uh,” Santiago pauses but her green eyes are filled with concern. “He can stay at mine for a few weeks. He did the same for me when I had a neck operation, it’s the least I can do.”
“Where’s his girl?” 
Santi angles heavy-lidded eyes up at her across fried plantain, hesitating before he continues. 
But she hasn’t asked it out of a need to move into an empty space in Frankie’s life.
Audrey’s asked it with conviction because she doesn’t want to hear that Frankie’s been abandoned. 
And he hates that he has to tell her the truth.
“She’s not…she left a few months ago. Took the baby with her. Moved out to California to be closer to family. They’re not…"
"There’s no one at home, Aud.”
And Audrey lets out the breath she was holding and sits back in her chair and stares out at the ocean. 
“Because of this?” 
And she means professional pursuits rather than personal ones.
“A few months before this. Probably why he agreed to take that first job in Nicaragua.” 
He doesn’t tell her about the coke relapse that drove the final nail in.
“But, is he…does he get to see her?” His daughter. Asked like anything less is an injustice to someone she cares for and therefore an injustice done unto herself.
“He tries to fly out there once a month or so. They Facetime a lot.”
It unsticks a corner of the papier-mâché Frankie’s covered in.
The shell around his heart. 
What’s underneath is as battered and bruised the body in that bed.
“Fuck,” she whispers, mouth catching on the “k”.
“Yeah it’s not ideal,” Santi takes a swig of beer.
"My dance card is full over the next few weeks."
“I’ve got him, Aud. You handled the first part. I’ve got the next.”
“You’re a good friend, Santi.”
“How long you think he’ll be down for?” He says around a mouthful of plantain.
“Nick said six to eight weeks, but probably more like ten before Davis un-grounds him," she moves to run a hand through her hair and realizes that she's still wearing Frankie's hat.
“Yeah, he’s gonna fucking hate that.”
“He hasn’t got a choice.”
“He’s gonna hate not seeing you.”
And she looks down at the ice melting in her glass of water. 
“I can’t be that for him, Santi.”
“I know. And I didn’t...didn't mean it like that. Didn’t mean to put it on you. Make it heavy, ‘m sorry.”
“Yeah," she looks down at her plate. "I know,” she sticks grilled shrimp with her fork. “I’ll send him a care package.”
_____
And Santi laughed in the moment.
But she does. 
Every week, like clockwork, first to Santiago’s house and then to Frankie’s apartment when he’s back on his own. 
An infrared heating pad shows up early on and Frankie swears it works better than the one that Santi bought from the drugstore that smells like popcorn and piss after two minutes in the microwave.
Week three she sends the memoirs of famous pilots. Books about Arctic expeditions and alpinists.
You ever climb a mountain, Aud?
He texts her from where he's shirtless on Santiago’s couch after having finished a novel about one of Everest’s most dangerous climbing seasons. He's warm and loose. Soothing heat seeping into his ribs.
Absolutely not, I’m a sea-level girl.
Why not?
Just not my medium, I suppose. Some beautiful things are better admired from afar.
And it’s probably the pain meds contributing to his reply.
You feel like one of those things right now. too beautiful. too far away.
You need to be in good working order to climb mountains, Frankie.
Miss taking you to that peak though.
Corny.
Oh she’s picky.
Discerning.
Where are you?
Uruguay. Me and mini bar gin for the night. Where are you?
Pope’s couch. he made a run to the store before it closes.
Hot. How are you feeling?
Sore. useless. bored. I miss you.
And he takes a calculated risk because he feels sore, useless, and bored.
Miss eating that pretty pussy. just thinking about how wet you get for me.
Are you hard, Frankie?
Getting there.
And he doesn’t expect what she says next.
Show me.
Frankie tongues his bottom lip with a shake of his head. He reaches under his grey sweatpants to take his length in a fist, coaxing it with the memory of her taste on his lips. He palms the base of it over cotton and snaps a picture angled down his stomach where his length rests hard and heavy angled over his left hip bone.
Fuck, you’re so big Frankie.
Miss hearing you say that, baby.
You cleared for this, Morales?
Broke my ribs, not my dick.
That would have been a real shame. Wouldn't be able to enjoy this.
And she sends a photo of her on her stomach, taken just over her left shoulder to shows off her naked back, the exaggerated arch in her spine accentuating the bare curve of her ass.
And he calls her now.
“Hi, Frankie.” She purrs when she picks up.
“I didn’t know nice girls like you sent pictures like that.”
“Who said I’m a nice girl?”
And he hums from low in his chest.
After a moment, “you ever bring toys with you, baby?”
“I was supposed to bring you,” she quips. “Now all I’ve got are my hands.”
“Well then let’s see what I can do.” He puts the phone on speaker and leaves it on his chest, rubbing a palm low over his stomach.
“You gonna listen to me, gatita?”
And she grins on the other end of the line.
“Whatever you say, Frankie.” 
“You serious, Aud?”
“Keep talking, Frankie.”
“Still on your stomach over there?”
“Mhmm.”
“Stay there. Go ahead and slip your hand down. Down to that pretty little clit.” His voice is thick with want.
And he can hear the faint slide of skin against the cotton of the duvet.
“Slowly now. Just soft little circles for me, baby.”
Frankie again reaches under his sweatpants, rubbing that sensitive spot just under the head of his cock with his ring finger before working his foreskin over the tip.
“Fuck, I wish I was behind you right now. You wet, baby?” Frankie growls.
“A little,” she whispers.
“Ohh,” he chuckles darkly. “A little’s not enough, baby. You know better than that. Move those fingers a little faster for me.”
And he mirrors the command before shifting to pull his cock out of his sweatpants entirely, wrapping his whole fist around his length. Pumping his cock in time with her moans.
“Oh, yeah baby.” He grunts and squeezes the base of his dick. Frankie's breathing has picked up to something that’s starting to make his ribs smart from the exertion. He swirls his middle finger through the slick dripping from the head of his cock, using it to ease the slide of his foreskin over his shining, reddened tip. “Louder for me, gatita.”
“Need more, Frankie,” she sighs.
“Mmm, my baby needs something inside, doesn’t she?” He teases.
“I’m gettin’ real close to not following orders, Morales,” her voice is husky when she bites back.
“Okay, baby.” he grins. “Okay. Just two fingers, hermosa. Inside.” She moans as she does it. “Yeahhh,” Frankie answers, pumping himself faster.
“Bet you’re so wet for me right now. So warm. Does it feel good, baby?”
“It’s not enough, Frankie,” she whimpers. Her fingers aren’t long enough—not thick enough—to do what Frankie does.
“I know, baby,” he soothes through his own desperate ache. “I know. You’re gonna move those hips for me, okay?” He’s hissing through teeth now, bucking up into his fist. “Go on. Grind down on your hand—for me.” 
And she rolls her hips to put pressure on her clit with the heel of her palm, her fingers buried in her cunt, pressing against that spot inside that builds a warm wave of pleasure on the verge of breaking. 
And Frankie can tell from five thousand miles away by the way she starts to cry out. 
“Feels so good, baby.” She’s breathless.
“Oh yeah,” his pace speeds up, “fuck yeah, baby. Yes. Let me hear you.” He tugs on his balls with his free hand and imagines each thrust of his hips is a thrust up into her hot, tight cunt.
“So close, Frankie,” she gasps, open-mouthed against the bedspread 
“Yeah, baby. Come for me. Babyyy. Oh—ff—fuck. Let me hear it." His voice is ragged—wild with need. With desperation. "Let me hear you fucking come. As loud as you want, gatita. Come for me. Come, baby, come.”
And she pants his name until her voice breaks on a moan and a choked screech of the last syllable.
“Baby....baby, my sexy little ba—ooh fff—UCK.”
And Frankie grunts and grits his teeth through growls as his hips snap hard against his fist, spilling thick stripes of semen over his bare stomach.
His breathing is hard and pained as he hears Audrey’s soft, answering moans. 
And for a moment they just listen to each other breathe.
“You okay, Frankie?”
“So good,” he murmurs.
After a thick pause, “ribs hurt like a bitch. Possibly…overexerted myself," he pants, lifting his hand up to survey the sticky white that coats his fingers.
“Oh, Frankie,” she sighs.
Sighs like she wishes she was there, fitted against the ache. 
Sighs like she wants to kiss it better.
“It was worth it, ba— fuck.” Frankie hears the garage door open.
“What…”
“Pope’s back.”
“Tell him he can blame me for his living room smelling like come.”
“Fuck. Yeah, I gotta go.”
“Go Frankie.”
“Good night, pretty baby.”
“Night, Frankie. Good luck.”
He hangs up with a smile and pockets his phone, rushing to crack a window with his clean hand as quickly as he can given the sticking pain in his ribs.
Frankie slips into the bathroom seconds before he hears plastic bags being loaded into the kitchen.
“You good, Fish?” Santiago yells out.
“Yeah,” he answers and starts the shower as his phone buzzes with a text.
You’re stunningly good at that by the way, Francisco.
He sends a winking face.
Can’t wait to do it in person, baby.
In time, Francisco.
_____
The next week she sends both sweet and salty snacks because she doesn’t know which he prefers until he texts her that the sour peach rings she sent were amazing. 
The following week a whole case of them arrives at his door.  
Around week six Frankie finds that she tucked a tastefully suggestive polaroid into a particularly salacious chapter of The Delta of Venus and between it and the reading material and how long it’s been—
Frankie completely ruins his copy. 
His ribs don’t quite hurt as much this time.
He briefly considers shipping it back to her, wrinkled cover, pasted-together pages and all, along with a note that reads “enjoyed this one” but he doesn’t know her address.
Frankie figures you can’t ship biohazards anyway and tosses it instead.
The polaroid though, he keeps.
_____
Week eight her phone lights up with a text from Frankie, right around midnight in his time zone.
I miss the way you smell.
Your hair. your skin.
And Audrey’s heart aches with the intimacy of his confession.
Oh, Frankie. I miss you too.
I've been cheating though. I have your hat.
Keep it for now. send me something in exchange?
A few days later, her favorite hat shows up at his door.
"Crossroads Bar and Grill," he reads out loud with a smile. Sure enough, it smells faintly of her hair and he idly holds it to his nose before he notices something else in the package. He lets the strap out an inch and pops the cap on his own head before pulling out a blue linen pillowcase.
Frankie crushes it to his nose and breathes in the scent of her hair, exhaling with a deep moan.
That night he slips it over one of his extra pillows and sucks in breath with his face buried in it until he comes hard into his fist.
Open-mouthed.
Lungs full of her.
_____
Week nine she’s on a plane back to DC when he texts her a picture with the caption:
PT going well. worked out without pain this afternoon. bruises mostly gone.
The text loads before the picture does, and she smiles because he’s on the mend.
Audrey is not, however, prepared for the image taken in his bathroom mirror. 
He’s turned to the side, brushing his teeth with one hand, elbow picked up to display his ribs, phone held in the other hand angled in towards the mirror. 
It’s a thought captured in the moment that it happened. Meant only to display the faint yellow that’s left on his ribcage, a scant suggestion of the symphony of purple and blue that marked it weeks before.
But Frankie is fresh out of the shower. Naked as the day he was born.
And the bathroom countertop is only so high. 
Frankie, I’m on a plane.
That’s fine. 
I just noticed that it looks a lot better. thought I’d share. Where to?
And she realizes it really was a mistake.
I’m happy to hear and happy you shared! Working out without pain is huge progress.
But half your cock is in this shot, Francisco.
Ah fuck.
I sent that to all the boys.
And Audrey has to keep herself from cackling because surely Big Dick Morales’ phone is blowing up with the kind of shit that only good friends can dish out. 
Shame, I thought it was just for me. 
He sends the wild-faced emoji with its tongue out.
Where you off to? 
Back to DC actually.
Nice to be heading home. text me that you got in safe.
And something warm spreads in her chest. 
She chances another glance at the photo, zooming in first on his ribs, then the curve of biceps that seem more heavily-muscled than she remembers.
She scrolls down the image to the suggestion of abs where he was softer before. Frankie, it seems, has been taking physical therapy seriously and then some.
And she scrolls down a little further to the brush of curls at the base of—
“That your husband?” The older lady to Audrey’s right asks and she immediately clicks her screen off.
“Yep,” she lies because you can never be too sure and she doesn’t need a lecture on the premarital sending of accidentally nude pictures. “Yeah, he fell off his motorbike a few weeks ago. Bruised his ribs, but they’re looking way better now.”
“He’s handsome.”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“He makes you smile. Keep him. For now.”
And Audrey laughs with her head thrown back and buys the woman a glass of wine and they fall into easy conversation and the rest of her flight isn’t as dismal as the first half. 
When she steps through the door of her apartment she remembers Frankie's ask.
Made it back home.
Not one minute later, her phone lights up.
A photo from Frankie. Taken just above his hips. The outline of his thick, hard length evident under the rumpled green of his bed sheet, hand closed loosely around the base of it. 
There’s precome smeared on his tanned stomach, catching the light from a bedside lamp.
That one’s just for you.
You sure you didn’t send this to all the boys?
Only you, baby.
This right now?
Ten minutes ago, I’m afraid. fading fast.
I miss you.
I miss you too, Francisco.
_____
Week ten there’s a knock on the door of her hotel room in Trinidad.
And she opens it to big brown eyes peering at her from under the brim of a cap from Crossroads Bar and Grill.
“Audrey,” he smiles.
“Frankie,” she sighs and wraps her arms around his neck as he presses her tight against him.
She feels his ribs expand comfortably as his lungs fill with the scent of her hair. His lips are warm against her neck and she tucks her nose into the tender spot behind his ear.
Feeling the warmth of his skin and the beat of his heart and everything that assures her he’s still alive.
And her skin confirms what her eyes are seeing.
And in some small way.
They each feel a little more whole again.
next
Old chapters are hosted on the OFFS Library page. New chapters will be posted to Ohforficsake - follow me over there for future updates.
Shoot me a message @ohforficsake or comment under this post if you would like to be added to the taglist for updates! Thanks so much for reading.
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pepsiboyy · 2 months
Text
starboy part 1
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P1 P2
pairing: y/n x chris sturniolo
summary: y/n, born and raised in los angeles, moves across the country to boston. when she feels like she has nobody, she makes some new friends at her new job. she grows particularly close with the sturniolo triplets, where she finds a lot in common with one of them.
warnings: just cursing
lowercase intentional!!!
author's note: hii! this is my first story on here and i hope it goes okay?? idk i suppose we will see where it goes. thanks a ton for reading!! let me know what you think! sincerely, apollo <3
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my head smacked against the car window, causing me to immediately lift my head and blink a few times.
"morning, y/n. sleep well?" my mom carefully stated while looking at me in the rearview mirror. i shrugged and tried to keep my eyes opened as i watched all of the unfamiliar buildings pass by.
everything was so different here.
-
a few weeks ago, my mom received a job offer here in boston. our family didn't particularly struggle with money, but if she wanted to keep her job, we had to move.
me, on the other hand? i couldn't believe what i was hearing when she sat me down at the dining room table. "what do you mean we're... leaving?" i felt my hands shake. sadness? anger? i couldn't even tell.
"well, i got a job offer-" she started, but i immediately cut her off with my hands slamming against the table.
"fuck your job offer, what about everything we have here!? my friends, my job... everything?" i shouted, my voice beginning to shake towards the end.
"language," my mom started, but let out a deep sigh, "i understand your frustration. that's why we're waiting until you graduate."
-
i let out a shaky sigh at the thought. this wasn't fair. my best friend was still in los angeles, harper. she was my best friend since childhood, and leaving her hurt more than anything i could even describe.
"we're here," my mom breathed, looking at me through the rearview mirror. i could tell she was trying to read my emotions, sadness in her eyes. i stared at her for a few moments before opening the car door and stepping out quickly.
"wow, it's gorgeous." i heard my father say, his arm wrapping around my mom's waist as he kissed the top of her head. i felt myself physically cringe as i grabbed my bags and a few pairs of shoes that didn't fit within the bags. i looked at the house in front of me.
it was pretty nice. fairly homey. very different from our house back in california. i took in a deep breath before beginning to walk towards the door.
-
my room was pretty nice, i had to admit. it was a little bigger than my room back at home- or.. what was home, i guess. i laid against my bed and stared at my ceiling before standing up.
while i was packing, i applied for a few jobs here in boston. a lot of them turned me down as i only have a little bit of work experience, but what can you do? i guess. i got accepted by a grocery store though, one i hadn't seen before. it was called star market? we didn't have those on the west coast, but they're pretty popular here. the pay was minimum wage, but it's a start. it didn't really matter to me. anything to get me out of the house and just do something. get myself out there.
i let out a deep sigh and closed my eyes. with every thought racing through my head, finally i managed to let my mind rest and slowly drift into sleep.
-
"y/n, are you sure you'll be okay?" my mom mumbled, carefully touching my hair and fixing the loose strands. i chuckled softly and nodded. "i'll be fine, just a bit nervous. new place and new job." i mumbled, playing with my fingers. my mom nodded.
"i understand. you'll do great. just talk to your coworkers, maybe make friends?" she asked, smiling. i sighed.
i know she's simply trying to help, but it's hard. i had a perfectly great life in california and i feel like i'm being forced to restart completely.
"right." i replied, letting out a sigh before stepping towards the door.
-
my earbuds were playing music as i walked. i didn't have a car yet, so.. i had to walk. it's right down the street, so no biggie. in broad daylight, i didn't see it as a big deal. i hummed as i turned a corner, and sure enough, it really was right there. i crossed the street and approached the doors, blinking a few times.
so this is my new job. it looked a lot nicer in person than in the pictures. that made me feel a little better. i walked in.
"hi, umm... my name is y/n.. it's my first day?" i mumbled shyly to the older lady standing at the front. she looked me up and down. i swallowed and gripped my backpack's straps, looking around. why was she looking at me like that.
"you're y/n y/l/n?" she started to smile, and i felt a wave of relief wash over me.
"yeah," i smiled softly back.
"cool, let me call nick over." she told me before turning away and beginning to say something into her walkie.
after a few minutes of awkwardly standing with my hands in my pockets.
"hi-"
"oh fuck-" i gasped, turning around and grasping my chest. my eyes widened as i shook my head, "oh god i'm sorry- i didn't mean to say that, you just scared me," i breathed, smiling softly.
the boy laughed softly and shook his head. "oh, girl you're completely fine, i'm the same way," he chuckled.
i smiled softly. i then gasped and quickly held out my hand. "my name is y/n, it's my first day." i looked up at the boy with the nose ring and curly hair in front of me. i assumed he was nick.
"hi y/n, i like your name a lot. it's pretty! i'm nick. lose the formalities, let loose, you're good." he smiled and shook my hand softly before pulling away and beginning to walk away. i followed.
"are you from around here, or?" nick asked, turning to me and beginning to walk to the back.
"ah, yeah.. i uhh, moved here from los angeles, actually." i scoffed.
nick seemed to throw his eyebrows up as he turned to me. "los angeles? really? i've always wanted to go, i've been like once but... i still want to go, doesn't change anything." he smiled before he quickly turned to me. "sorry, it's probably like... not that special to you, but," he shrugged, "it's across the country. i mean, culture shock.... is that a real thing?"
i smiled brightly. something about the way nick spoke to me so casually was really comforting. "oh, it's definitely a real thing."
as we walked towards the back, we passed a boy with similar hair and features, and i blinked at him before i shrugged it off and kept following nick. nick seemed to notice this though, and smiled. "that's my brother, matt," he mumbled, and i smiled and nodded. "you two look really similar." i replied, before we came to a stop.
"this is where you'll clock in every day. just type in your employee number and tap clock in," he told me as he demonstrated. i nodded carefully. "it's totally normal if you don't remember your numbers, i wrote them down for you." he handed me a sticky note. i smiled and folded it, putting it into my clear phone case.
"i appreciate it, thanks." i smiled.
-
"and that's how you do it," nick stated confidently.
to be brutally honest, i was still a little lost. we kept just talking about life, random things. i found out nick and i got along really well, and we were the same age.
"i appreciate you walking me through everything," i breathed, rubbing my arm. as we walked back to customer service, i noticed a boy with longer brown hair kneeled down and putting some things on a shelf. i could hear the music playing from his earbuds from here.
nick looked at me and smiled. "oh, and that's my other brother. chris." he smiled. i blinked at him. "you guys all look the same," i started, and he stopped me. "yeah, we're triplets." he chuckled. my eyes went wide as i smiled softly. "wow, you don't see that every day." i chuckled and walked past chris.
"matt, this is y/n. she's gonna be working up here at customer service with you." nick told him, and matt turned to me with a soft smile. i smiled back at him.
"hi, i'm matt." he mumbled, holding out his hand. we shook hands quickly. this guy was so shy but he seemed cool, too. "hi, matt." i smiled at him.
-
the day went by surprisingly fast. i talked a lot with matt, and found out that we have a lot of similar tastes in music and style. "you should talk to my brother chris, he likes that a lot too," he would tell me. i felt like he said it every other sentence, actually. "wow, i really gotta meet this chris guy then, don't i?" was how i finally responded.
matt nodded with a warm smile. "yeah, you do." he smiled.
he helped me a lot with customers throughout the day, and learning the system. he was very helpful, and the way he spoke with customers was kind of admirable. i was excited to be as knowledgeable as he was to those who needed it.
"what do you drive?" he asked me after helping someone, and i blinked. "oh, i don't drive- i walked here." i smiled at him, but my smile dropped when i noticed him look at me with shock, and some worry. "you walked here?" he asked, blinking a few times. i shrugged. "yeah, my house is literally right around the corner.
"i can take you home, i wouldn't walk around at night," he stated firmly, looking at me with only seriousness. i smiled softly. these guys were really nice. "i'd umm.. i'd like that, actually." i smiled.
"matty-poo, are you clocked out yet?" a voice rang in the distance, very similar to his.
"i told you to stop calling me that, chris. have you met y/n?" he questioned, smiling at him. i looked over at chris and felt like i might stop breathing in that moment.
he was stunning. and he may have looked nearly identical to the other two, but something about his hair and the way it perfectly fell on his head, the way he was dressed so laid back and clearly himself yet still appropriately for work.
"y/n?" i heard matt say as i turned quickly to him and then back to chris. "oh, right, sorry. hi, name's y/n," i chuckled shyly and held out my hand. chris, instead of shaking my hand, dapped me up and snapped softly afterwards. i chuckled. i didn't know people did that in boston, too.
"hi, i'm chris." he smiled softly.
"i gotta finish cleaning up a few things here, if you and y/n wanna head to the car? we're giving her a ride home." matt mumbled as he was getting the trash together. i offered to help, but this guy insisted on doing closing duties for the night.
"oh okay sick, sure. come on, y/n." chris stated and began walking towards the car, pulling his hoodie over his head. i followed closely behind him. it was sort of awkward at first, but i heard his music again and smiled softly. i tapped his shoulder, indicating i wanted to tell him something.
"poppin by yeat?" i asked, and he blinked a few times, fully putting his earbuds away and into his pocket. "damn, you listen to year?" he smiled and put his hands in his pockets.
i chuckled and shrugged. "i dabble. i listen to whatever sounds cool." chris smiled. "good taste." i nodded as we approached what i assumed was their car. a kia sedona. simple, but perfect for them, i thought.
chris leaned against the side of the car, and after some thought, i leaned against the car beside him. "the stars are really nice here in boston, much easier to see than in los angeles." i chuckled. chris looked at me as he hadn't heard the rundown yet. "you're from los angeles?" he questioned, and i nodded softly. "that's sick." he stated and turned back to the sky. "me and my brothers have always wanted to go." he smiled softly to himself.
i chuckled and nodded, having heard a few times but decided to keep my mouth shut. "it's nice, but i guess because i'm used to it, it really isn't that exciting." i hummed. he seemed to understand what i was saying.
we sat in silence for a few moments before he turned to me. "why'd you move?" he asked, and i scoffed. "i um.. my mom got a new job. just like in the movies." i mumbled with a soft laugh, and chris smiled at me. "you graduate?" he asked, and i nodded. "yeah, left a week and a half afterwards." i mumbled. he frowned. "i'm sorry to hear," he replied, and i smiled at him. "don't be. i appreciate it though." he smiled softly. "yeah, no problem."
we sat in silence before he turned to me and popped open his airpods case, motioning it towards me. "airpod?" he asked, and i smiled and carefully took one, placing it in my ear. i checked them beforehand.
he put on music and we sat in silence and listened to his playlist. without a doubt, we had the same taste in music.
"y/n!!! how was your first day!!" nick shouted from the distance as he ran towards their car, making me smile brightly.
-
the car ride was peaceful, i sat beside nick in the backseat while matt drove and chris accompanied him in the passenger seat. chris and matt argued for about five minutes before we left about who would have the aux, and i smiled when chris got the aux and put on a song i was fairly familiar with.
"and then a left here," i stated, humming softly to the music. i saw matt shoot chris a glance, resulting in chris smacking matt's arm.
"aaand it's here," i smiled and sat up, waiting for matt to come to a stop before undoing my seatbelt. "i really appreciate you guys for today, thank you for helping me today and making me feel at home." i smiled gently. "i'll see you guys tomorrow?" i mumbled, and matt shook his head. "nick and i are off tomorrow, but chris will be there." he mumbled, and chris gave me a big thumbs up. i smiled softly and nodded, waving and jogging to my door.
-
considering the store closed at midnight, it was about 12:45 by the time i got in my room and sighed. my parents were asleep. i looked around and hummed to myself.
i'll unpack tomorrow morning, i thought.
i changed and laid in bed in my pajamas, staring at my ceiling. i really did have a great day, but chris and the way he just seemed to understand me really struck me. i looked at my hands and sighed softly.
no way i have lived here for two days and already find a guy cute.
i let out a deep, hefty sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. i'll see where it goes, i thought.
and with that, i slowly fell asleep, looking forward to working with chris tomorrow.
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HELLO PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT U GUYS THING i feel like i rambled so bad in this??? this is my first thing i've written in a long time and it's very much like..... a pilot? it really goes through the reader meeting the triplets and going through the first day - i APROMISEDJGKSAJDFG it gets more interesting UGHHH ok happy 5am goodnight <333 sincerely, apollo <33
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kissoflightning · 5 months
Text
A Long Way Down
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KissOfLightning
Summary:
What were Chris Miller & Gavin Reed up to that night after Hank & Connor took over the investigation at Eden Club?
Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning:
No Archive Warnings Apply
Category:
Gen
Fandom:
Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Relationships:
Chris Miller & Gavin Reed
Leo Manfred & Gavin Reed
Characters:
Gavin Reed
Chris Miller
Leo Manfred
Additional Tags:
Leo Needs a Hug
Hurt Leo
Emotional Hurt/Comfort
One Shot
References to Drugs
References to Depression
Suicide Attempt
Gavin Reed Being an Asshole
Chris Miller POV
Language:English
Series: Carl Dies
Published:2023-11-20
Words:2,371
Chapters:1/1
A Long Way Down
Notes:
What were Chris Miller & Gavin Reed up to that night after Hank & Connor took over the investigation at Eden Club?
First half is serious, second half is silly fluff~ Chris Miller gets a POV story like he deserves!   CW: Attempted Suicide
Work Text:
Saturday, November 6th, 2038
Gavin Reed was inspecting the crime scene; the man known as Michael Graham had been found dead at Eden Club. The scene showed the deceased man in a bed with bruises on his neck, and an incapacitated brown haired female Traci android across the room. Gavin examined Michael's corpse closely; the bruising was an indicator the victim had been strangled. "Now the question is..." Gavin speculated out loud as he crossed his arms. "Did the android act with the intent to murder him, or did he just not know when to call it quits? Is the killer a deviant or a defective android that wasn't inspected properly?"
The door to the room whooshed open. As the cop and detective noticed who had entered, Gavin opened with "Lieutenant Anderson and his plastic pet. The fuck are you two doing here?" He sounded confused.
"We've been assigned all cases involving androids." The android informed.
Oh Reed was NOT going to happy about that! "Oh yeah? Well you're wasting your time. Just some pervert who uhh...got more action than he could handle!" Gavin laughed boisterously.
"We'll have a look anyway. If you don't mind." Anderson told him.
Surprisingly Reed did not complain or cause a scene. "Come on let's go." He told Chris. The detective passed between Anderson and Connor wafting his hand in the air. "It's uhh..." He sniffled. "Starting to stink of booze in here." He purposely nudged against the android on his way out.
"Good night Lieutenant." Chris said in farewell before leaving. The cop did not have any personal qualms with Connor; he was polite and seemed to know what he was doing. As for the lieutenant, Chris held respect for him in the highest regard.
Gavin stormed off to the car and slammed the door shut after entering.
Chris settled into his seat. "Well you handled that surprisingly well." He pointed out.
The detective shoulder checked and pulled out of the parking lot. Once Gavin was on the road, he shouted angrily "It wouldn't have done shit if I had an outburst in there! It's FUCKING BULLSHIT Chris! Every time there's a case involving a fucking android, Drunkerson gets it just because he's been paired with that pretentious plastic prick! I'm SUPPOSED to be working in homicide - but my cases keep FUCKING getting taken over by that obnoxious tin can! At this rate I'm going to get my fucking job REPLACED before I can get a promotion!" Gavin angrily slammed his fist on the dash, and lost his grip on the wheel for a moment before it veered to the side.
Chris' heart rate escalated. In panic he exclaimed, "Shit Gavin! You're going to get us killed! How about we stop somewhere for a bit to chill out."
The detective took a heavy sigh. Chris understood Gavin needed to vent, but none of this was his fault. "Okay...there's a place I like to go when I need to think. We'll stop there for a bit." Gavin declared.
As Gavin drove along Ambassador Bridge, Chris noticed a figure standing near the ledge. "Shit! I think that person's about to jump!" Chris warned.
The detective stopped his car and activated his hazard lights. Thankfully there was not much traffic coming through. "Chris, stay a few feet behind me." Gavin ordered while cautiously stepping out of the car. "Hey, you! What are you doing?" He shouted to the individual standing on the ledge.
As the figure looked back and talked to Gavin, they recognized who it was. "I'm going to jump! Please leave me be. I can't go on anymore!" The man's name was Leo; they had seen working at the coffee shop until a few days ago. Chris recalled the detective complaining that everyone there had been replaced by a 'fucking android'.
"I'm with the Detroit Police Department. As per the law, I can't allow you to do that." Gavin stated.
"Why the fuck is taking my own life against the law anyway? I'm not hurting anyone except myself." Leo retorted.
"Firstly that's likely not true; you're hurting those that care about you. Secondly, if suicide wasn't illegal, there would be no way for us to intervene." Gavin argued.
"You're wrong on the first part; nobody fucking cares about me. Both my parents are dead and I don't have any fucking friends! I'm going through Red Ice withdrawal and I'll never make it out on my own. I'm better off dead."
Gavin's hands were shaking...he seemed really worried. He was probably fond of Leo, as Chris was; seeing the same people on practically a daily basis, you naturally grow attached to them. Despite Gavin being irritating seventy percent of the time, Chris saw him as his friend, and he would despair if something were to happen to him.
"I've been where you are Leo! You don't need to do this! It feels like you have nothing now but...hell my parents are alive, but they're fucking dead to me. I've been through hell and back, but I had the strength to pull myself out!" Gavin exclaimed. Was he really telling the truth? Or was this all part of an act to convince Leo not to jump?
"Well I'm not strong like you Detective Reed! I can't even function without Red Ice! I blamed the android but..." Tears streamed from Leo's eyes. "My dad DIED because of me! I broke into his mansion and stressed him out while I was high on that shit! He died of a heart attack." As Leo broke into a sob, Gavin cautiously moved closer, and Leo noticed. "Don't fucking come any closer! I'll really do it!" The man threatened, but his whole body was trembling.
Gavin took the gamble and gradually inched closer. "Don't do it. We can talk this over. We can get you some help."
"I'm a worthless piece of shit." Leo closed his eyes for a moment and steadied his stance. "I'm better off dead." As soon as Leo closed his eyes, Chris took the opportunity to sprint towards him.
Leo stepped over the edge, and Gavin lunged forward catching the man's right arm. However, Leo slipped off anyway due to the wet terrain resulting from the storm. "Shit.. I'm losing my...CHRIS!" Gavin shouted frantically.
"Help me. I don't want to die!" Leo exclaimed.
Just in time Chris clutched onto Leo's left arm, and Gavin readjusted his grip on Leo's right. "Okay on one...PULL!" Gavin ordered as they pulled Leo back up.
They were successful in their endeavor and in the aftermath, the three men were heaving. After catching their breath, Leo was trembling. "I...I'm so sorry. Thank you for saving me." He gasped with weariness in his breath.
"All in a day's work!" Gavin said cheerily as he smirked and did that weird double wink. For the life of him, Chris had no idea why Gavin thought that was appealing.
"How are you feeling?" Chris checked in on Leo.
"A bit traumatized but better...I think. I'm starving actually." Leo stated.
"Anyone feeling like going to Denny's?" Gavin asked the group.
"I could eat." Chris answered with a grin.
Gavin and Chris were seated in a booth beside each other and across from Leo. The officer was staring at the menu, having flipped through the whole thing over four times. "You decided what you wanted to eat yet, or are you going to continue reading that menu like it's a fucking novel?" Reed complained.
Chris always struggled with deciding what to eat. "Uhh...uhh."
"Just fucking pick something god dammit! I'm starving!" Gavin groaned.
The waitress approached, "Hi, my name is Tabitha, and I'll be your server today! Are you all ready to order?"
"Thank fuck! An actual human waitress! Yes, we're ready to order, right?" Gavin responded, checking in with Chris and Leo.
"Oh yeah! I know what I want!" Leo said cheerily. "Gimme a chicken tenders and fries. Hold on the gravy - your gravy tastes like shit!"
"And what are you having to drink?" She asked.
"I'll have a hot chocolate! Make it extra chocolatey if you can! With marshmallows, whipped cream, and sprinkles." He answered with a cheeky grin.
"Sure I can throw some Oreo chunks on top of it too for no extra charge if you'd like." She offered.
"Oh FUCK YEAH!" Leo chortled enthusiastically.
"What are you, nine?" Gavin ridiculed.
"It's my go-to drink when I've had a rough night, alright!" Leo protested. "Geez for a person who's trying to convince me to continue living, you're doing a terrible fucking job!"
Chris smirked. "That's just the way Gavin is. I think if he went five minutes without being an asshole, he'd spontaneously combust!"
Leo laughed at that.
"I'll have what he's having." Chris added. Chicken tenders and fries did not sound half bad, but the image of that hot chocolate was dancing in his head.
"And you?" The waitress asked Reed.
"I'll have a lumberjack slam with eggs over easy, and rye bread." Gavin ordered.
"And to drink?"
"I'll have a beer, like a REAL man. Pint of Guinness."
After the server left, Gavin stated directed at Leo, "I hadn't seen you at Starbuck's recently. When we were there it seemed to be completely taken over by androids. It's shitty your job got replaced by those fucking things!"
"I wasn't replaced. I was fired. I'm not surprised in the fucking least that the shitty manager wouldn't bother to hire any more humans. Sheryl and I were the only ones left. Some asshat decided to throw hot coffee on her because it 'tasted old'. She ran out crying. I jumped over the counter and beat the shit out of him." Leo explained.
"I'd imagine it'd be hard to keep a job after that." Chris concluded.
"Yeah, no shit. It wasn't the first time I messed up at work. I can't put up with that fucking shit at all without Red Ice. I've only gone 24 hours without it and I'm losing my fucking mind! I can't sober up on my own...I can't do it. And I have no-one...that's why I..." Leo expressed as he seemed like he was about to cry.
"Listen, if you need someone for emotional support. I'll be there. I don't have a fancy place, but you can stay in my apartment for a little while, and give you a chance to go through rehab." Gavin's tone softened to Chris' surprise. What could his ulterior motive be this time?
"Really, you'd let me stay with you? It'd be great to not be alone right now." Leo responded. Tabitha came up to the table with their food. Leo rubbed his hands together as he gleefully shouted "Thank fuck! I'm starving!"
"First the hot chocolate for the cutie." The server announced placing the drink on the table near Leo.
"Hey, what about me?" Gavin protested.
Blatantly ignoring him, Tabitha proceeded, "And the second hot chocolate for the handsome gentleman over here."
"Oh I get it! I must be the hottie then." Gavin assumed.
"And Guinness for the asshole." She deadpanned.
"The...hot asshole?"
"The average-looking asshole." She deadpanned once more before handing over the food. Her tone brightened back up as she cautioned "Careful sweeties, it's hot!" She glared at Gavin, "Except for you, you can burn your hands."
Chris and Leo laughed heartily. "Okay, that settles it! I'm paying for the whole table so I can give you a proper tip!"
Gavin turned to Chris and glared at him as the server left. The detective shook his head and shrugged. "She must just have terrible taste."
"Yeah, you keep thinking that." Chris sassed as he took a sip of his hot chocolate.
"Fuck you Chris." Gavin grumbled.
"No thank you!" Chris replied. Leo belted out laughing.
"What about you, Leo?" Gavin asked as the man was sipping his beverage, pulling away and leaving a whipped cream moustache.
"Huh?" He responded.
"Do you think I'm attractive?" Gavin clarified.
"Oh- yeah I do!" Leo confirmed.
"See?"
"But I also have a terrible taste in men." Leo added with a giggle. Gavin frowned and Chris laughed.
After taking another sip of his hot drink, Chris stated, "Well your taste in men is nothing like your taste in drinks. This is damn delicious!"
"Can I try it?" Gavin asked Chris sheepishly.
"No. Thought you said men only drink beer!" Chris scoffed.
"Leo?"
"Nah! This is all mine! Order your own!" Leo told him.
"Pfft!" Gavin huffed.
After finishing their meal, a familiar Dean Martin tune played on the radio. Lay some happiness on me. Soon the brighter side, you'll see! No more loneliness to be! Lay some happiness on me. Leo started bobbing side to side. "Hey, this old ass song is pretty nice."
Chris expected the detective to make some snarky comment, but instead his gaze was focused on Leo. If the officer was not seeing it first hand, he would never believe that Gavin Reed could actually smile.
Tabitha came back to the table with a tray of dessert. "Three slices of apple pie on the house." The waitress announced as she placed them down. She looked at Reed. "You're actually a sight for sore eyes with that smile!"
Leo had taken a bite of his apple pie and complimented, "This pie is BITCHIN'! Thanks for the free dessert!"
"I'm glad you like it! Here's the bill. Pay whenever you're ready!" She smiled at Chris as she left the statement with him.
"Excellent service! We'll absolutely be coming back." Chris complimented. After the server left, Chris noticed that not only was Reed's gaze focused on Leo, but they were reciprocating with a soft smile. The officer thought back to when he first met his wife; she was a waitress at a diner when they first met and they looked lovingly at each other just like that. Chris looked forward to coming home and snuggling in bed with his beautiful wife. In the morning he would tell her and Damian about how his day went. He took part in saving someone's life today. For the time being, it felt like everything was going to be alright; he had not felt this blissful in a long time.
[The End]
Notes:
The second two thirds of this became an eating at Denny's scene with almost no actual plot, but I felt so fuzzy when writing this! I hope you enjoyed it too!
If you enjoyed the story, consider leaving a Kudos/Comment on AO3!
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wandaromanova · 3 years
Text
Lost
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Warnings: mentions of cancer, death, cussing
A/N: hello! i’d like to put a disclaimer that i am not in any way knowledgeable of the medical field and all of the terminology and information used in this fic was found through research! happy reading <3
anon requested: hiiiii !! can i request like an angst into fluff natxfem!reader one shot where the reader has a really bad day and takes it out on nat and hurts her feelings and so they go to bed angry. but the reader realizes their mistake and the next morning just wakes her up by showering her with love and then takes the whole day to do cute little date things with her? like making her favorite meal or like dancing in the kitchen to their favorite song late at night or just super fluffy things? if not, that’s okay!! have a good day <3
Summary: The heavy weight of her profession gets to Y/N and she takes her anger out on her loving girlfriend; Natasha Romanoff.
Word Count: 3K | navigation
please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3
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Becoming a doctor was no easy feat.
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Once high school is completed, one must receive your bachelor’s degree before taking the MCAT exam and applying to medical school. After four years of medical school, you must endure a year as an intern before being promoted to a resident. 
Depending on what specialty one has selected, residency can span from three to seven years. Fellowships follow after but are typically an optional course that provides extra training. 
Yes, there are a lot of necessary steps to take in order to set foot into the medical world, but somehow, the years of foreplay could never compare to being a full-fledged physician; and you knew this all too well.
You are a pediatric oncologist and your job was to diagnose and provide treatment to children and teenagers who had cancer. You specialized in hematology; the treatment of blood disorders.
You were the head of pediatric oncology in a Manhattan hospital. You dealt with a lot of patients, but a two-year-old little girl named Sarah was secretly your favorite. 
Despite being diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia, Sarah’s positivity and playful personality never faltered.
Even if she didn’t understand the circumstances because of her young age, you knew she was suffering. Regardless of it all, every session you had with her was endearing.
You met with the child once a week to administer chemotherapy. Her enthusiasm never failed to have you awestruck. Most of your patients were exhausted from the treatments, but not Sarah. 
She was a hyper child who would attempt to sing Frozen songs, performing as you tried to fight a smile from taking over your features. She had a stuffed Olaf doll that she brought with her to every visit and it was heartwarming to see her hug the doll close to her chest. 
Sarah would even bring you drawings every week that you would keep in your locker. You’d admire each and every one of the drawings, even if you couldn’t really tell what they were.
You’d grown fond of the little girl in the past two months you had been treating her. You were also relatively close to her parents, who were probably the kindest people you’ve ever encountered. It made sense that Sarah was the ball of sunshine she was, she obviously got it from her parents.
Most times, parents were on edge and extremely short-tempered. If parents saw you often, that meant that their child was diagnosed with some form of cancer. Understandably, they would be rather hostile whilst interacting with you, but you never took their behavior personally. 
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If you were in their shoes, you were positive that you wouldn’t be very friendly either. 
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You had grown fond of the beaming child. You were aware that growing emotionally attached to patients was unprofessional, but how could you not? 
You adored children and for that very reason, you had chosen a specialty that allowed you to help kids as much as medicine would allow. You always had a soft spot for kids and you found joy in helping them as best as you possibly could.
Sarah had a very good chance at pulling through. With consistent treatment and her young age, her survival rate was around 68%. Those were considerably good odds in these circumstances. Not to mention, the chemotherapy seemed to be paying off. At the rate she was improving, she was predicted to be out of the woods soon enough.
However, the child had developed a bacterial infection. Since she had been receiving chemotherapy, the treatment had damaged her white blood cells which are responsible for fighting off infections. 
All you could do was provide antibiotics to try and fight off the infection. You had monitored her for some time in hopes of seeing any sign of improvement, but unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. Her immune system was extremely vulnerable and there wasn’t any way to reverse the damage. 
Your heart was torn to pieces when you delivered the news to her parents. They broke down in the hallway outside of Sarah’s room as you informed them of Sarah’s rapidly shortened life expectancy. It was only a matter of time before the young child would pass and honestly, this was what you hated most about your job.
You hated that you couldn’t help every single patient. You hated how cruel the world could be to take away an innocent child from their loving parents. 
You allowed her parents to spend time by her bedside. They laid on either side of her bed, clinging onto her for dear life. What broke you the most was the paleness of Sarah’s once glowing skin. Her smile was still present but didn’t quite reach her eyes like it used to. 
Her parents quietly sang ‘Love Is An Open Door’ to Sarah. You felt your heart clench in a bittersweet way as you silently watched. Normally, Sarah wouldn’t hesitate to join in, but her lack of breath prevented her from doing so. All she could do was close her eyes and lightly nod her head along to their voices. 
Sarah passed hours later and it was an extremely somber experience. Hearing the cries of parents who lost their children wasn’t easy and it never would be. Your job had its pros and cons, and this was the biggest negative.
You fought back your own tears as you exited the room, giving the two mourning parents some privacy after you recorded Sarah’s time of death. You found the nearest restroom and allowed the tears to fall down your face. 
A pure soul had been ripped away from the world, never having the chance to experience the great things life had to offer.
•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•
4 Hours Later
You trudged into your loft, immediately taking off your coat and hanging it up before tossing your keys on the small table by the front door. 
Your girlfriend, Natasha, had heard your arrival and quickly exited the bedroom to greet you, a wide smile on her face. However, her smile fell when she noticed your defeated state. 
Your shoulders were slumped as you slouched slightly and your eyes were dripping with sadness. 
“Honey? What’s wrong?” Natasha approached you while you stood frozen in front of the door. Her hands came up to cup your cheeks as she stared at you in concern, her eyes scanning over your features. 
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“I lost Sarah.” 
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Natasha’s eyes widened and her heart sunk at your words. She was aware of how much you adored the two-year-old. Once a week, you would rave about the child and how adorable she was at the dinner table. You would go on and on about how Sarah would sing to you, draw pictures for you, and bring along stickers to place onto your coat.
The redhead loved how happy you looked whenever you spoke about any of your patients, but most especially Sarah. It brought Natasha some joy of her own to see you speak animatedly about Sarah; your happiness was her happiness. 
So, the news hurt her almost as much as it hurt her. She knew how much you loved Sarah, despite never saying it straight out.
“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I know how much you cared about her. Are you okay?” Natasha’s voice was oozing with sympathy. You couldn’t help but feel irritated by her question. 
You tore her hands off of your cheeks and walked past her and into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water as the redhead watched you intently. 
“Am I okay? I’m fine! It’s not like I lost an extremely young patient today or anything. What kind of stupid fucking question is that, Natasha?” You took a sip of cold water to try and calm yourself damn, but your attempt was futile. 
The redhead made her way into the kitchen, standing on the opposite side of the island as you took another sip of water, eyes burning a hole into her head over the rim of the glass. 
“I know, that was a dumb question. I just want to help you, Y/N/N.” Natasha remained calm and patient as she spoke to you. She was no stranger to the loss of a person she desperately tried to save and knew all too well the sadness and anger that accompanied the tragedy. She was an Avenger, after all. 
“I don’t want your help and I don’t need you!” You slammed your cup onto the counter as you raised your voice. Honestly, it was surprising that you hadn’t shattered the glass with the amount of force you exerted. 
Natasha felt an ache in her chest as you yelled at her. She knew that you weren’t in the right state of mind and didn’t take it personally, but that didn’t make your words hurt any less. 
“You save entire cities and I can’t even save a single fucking person!” You were turning red at this point, tears of frustration streaming down your face. The redhead hated seeing you cry, but she knew better than to approach you at this moment. 
“Babe, you save so many pe-” Natasha’s tried to speak, but you quickly interjected. 
“If you’re going to try and spew some philosophical bullshit to me right now, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear another god damn word from your mouth.”
The redhead looked down defeatedly. She had never seen you so upset, let alone direct your frustrations towards her. Her eyes fell down to the marble counter between you both before looking up at you. You were breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. 
Without another word, Natasha retreated back to the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind her. You watched her until she was out of your view and let out a sigh. Your hands gripped the edges of the kitchen island, supporting your weight as you shut your eyes. 
You brought a hand up to your face and pinched the bridge of your nose. After a few minutes, you made your way into the living room, chucking off your shoes before collapsing onto the couch. You didn’t feel like interacting with Natasha anymore tonight, knowing that you most likely wouldn’t be able to control your temper. 
You were just so fed up with the painful losses you had to endure from your profession. 
You knew that being a doctor was more dark clouds and thunder, than sunshine and rainbows, but you just wished that for once, the weather forecast would work in your favor. 
The emotional day had finally caught up to you. Your body relaxed as you sunk further into the couch, eyes fluttering shut as you succumbed to a much-needed slumber. 
Unbeknownst to you, Natasha was still awake. She laid flat on her back and stared up at the ceiling in thought. She was mad at you, as much as she didn’t want to be. Natasha had gone through the same thing and never lost her cool with you as you had with her. 
The redhead calmed down slowly, turning on her side and facing the empty space beside her which you normally occupied. She reached one arm out, her skin colliding with cool sheets, already missing the warmth of your body. 
Natasha hated sleeping without you by her side, She didn’t feel complete when you weren’t steadily sleeping next to her, your arms wrapped around her body. However, she hoped that things would improve in the morning.
And with that thought in mind, she drifted off into a dreamless sleep, clutching the sheets firmly in her hand. 
•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•
 The Next Morning
You awoke to a blinding light, the morning sun shining through the windows and landing directly onto your face. You let out a groan and slowly sat up, stretching out your limbs with a groan. The couch wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, you were aching everywhere. 
You sat there for a moment as the events of the day before caught up to you. Not only had you lost Sarah, but you upset Natasha. You immediately felt guilty as you recalled the harsh words you spat at her in a fit of rage. You felt like a complete asshole, and rightfully so. 
You quickly stood up and entered the kitchen, retrieving some bacon from the freezer and eggs from the refrigerator. You grabbed two separate pans and washed your hands, making sure to get the coffee pot running before you began cooking.
Your girlfriend absolutely loved bacon, eggs, and coffee. She described the combinations as a ‘party in her mouth.’ So, this was going to be an ‘i’m sorry for being a bitch last night’ apology breakfast. 
You got started on the meal and by the time you finished up and had the stove off, Natasha stalked out of the bedroom slowly. She eyed you carefully as she approached, you sent a soft smile her way.
“You made breakfast,” Natasha spoke and you shyly nodded your head. You moved away from the stove and rounded the counter. The redhead stood in her spot as you wrapped your arms around her waist, her arms reflexively going around your neck.
“I was an asshole last night.” You stated and your girlfriend nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah, you were a total pain in the ass, the absolute worst.” You rolled your eyes at Natasha’s teasing tone.
“I’m sorry for how I behaved. I was just so upset about… Sarah. I didn’t mean to take it out on you and I can’t even begin to tell you how bad I feel for yelling at you when all you wanted to do was help me.”
Your voice was full of emotion, your eyes boring into her emerald irises as you poured your heart into every syllable you uttered. Natasha smile gently at you, her fingers lightly tugging on the baby hairs on the nape of your neck. 
“It’s okay. I know you weren’t mad at me.” You let out a sigh of relief as the redhead stared at you softly. She let out a small chuckle at your dramatics before continuing.
‘I understand how you feel. The team and I, we try our very best to save as many civilians as we can, but sometimes it’s completely out of our control. It’s the exact same situation.” 
One of Natasha’s hands found its way to your cheek, gently cupping the skin as you leaned into her touch. You were listening intently to her every word, mesmerized by the calming rasp of her voice.
“Don’t dwell on what you couldn’t do, but give yourself some credit for everything you did do. I may not know what happened, but what I do know is that you tried everything you could, no?”
Natasha questioned you and you nodded your head. “I gave her antibiotics to fight the infection, but it was too severe.” The redhead rubbed her thumb against your cheek. 
“All that matters is that you did your best and that’s all anyone could ever ask for.” Natasha ended her little speech as she placed a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. You couldn’t help but smile, an overwhelming feeling of happiness taking over. 
“Thank you. I love you and your… what was it?” You furrowed your eyebrows in concentration before your face lit up. Natasha raised an eyebrow at you. “Philosophical bullshit. That was the words.” The Russian let out a laugh, shaking her head from side to side at your antics. 
“Seriously though, I’m so grateful for you. You’re so amazing to me even when I don’t deserve it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Natasha’s laughter died down as your tone turned serious. Your eyes were so full of love and adoration as you stared into her eyes deeply. 
“Well, let’s hope you never have to find out.” Natasha smiled once more and you couldn’t resist pressing your lips against her plump ones. Your mouths moved in tandem at a slow pace, enjoying the rawness and love that accompanied each movement. 
You broke the kiss when air became an issue. Nat’s eyes fluttered open as you wiggled your eyebrows at her playfully. 
“So, are you ready for some breakfast? Maybe after we eat, we can go on top of a rooftop and I’ll serenade you with a rendition of ‘Sorry’ by Justin Bieber.”
Natasha’s head flew back as she laughed uncontrollably at your words. “What? Do you not like the Biebs? If you want, I could play ‘Baby Come Back’ by Player from a boombox and hold it over my head, instead.” The redhead continued to laugh profusely and you soon joined in. Your arms tightened around her waist as your giggles subsided. 
“I think cuddling on the couch and watching the Kardashians eating ridiculously large bowls of salad will do.” You nodded your head in agreement but didn’t make a move to release Natasha from your grip. She didn’t let go either. 
The two of you just stood there, basking in each other’s embrace, a comfortable silence falling over you both. 
Natasha never failed to say the right things to pull you out of the dark abyss that was your mind. She was completely right, as always. There would always be bad days, patients who were progressing one day and deteriorating the next. 
However, there were also good days, and you shouldn’t allow the bad to overshadow all the good you’ve done. Like with Natasha, she wasn’t always the superhero she is today. She took her dark past and turned it into a bright future. 
Nat didn’t let her bad days define her and neither should you.
Of course, you would always remember every single patient you had lost, but now, you would take the pain and turn it into motivation; motivation to improve yourself, not only in your professional life but in your personal life as well. 
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You would do right by the ones you’ve lost and the one who stuck by your side; Natasha Romanoff. 
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───────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────────
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missluckycharms · 3 years
Note
What about nobody knows their secretly dating, but they’re always flirting. So one day all of their Friends are at a club and y/n gets on the dance floor and starts twerking and Harry comes up behind her and starts grinding and tapping her ass and all there friends are whistling.
This Little Secret Of Ours.
A/N: hiii! I made this into a best friends brother! Harry blurb and I also changed a few things. I hope you don’t mind! Enjoyyy !!
**I will be getting around to all your requests in the next few days, please be patient !! Thank you !! **
Warnings: suggestive content, mature language, alcohol consumption, Harry is a cheeky lil shit.
It started when Y/N was nineteen and Harry was turning twenty one. It was never meant to happen, but what could she do? She was attracted to him, and he was to her.
They have a connection that you cannot look past no matter how hard it would be for them to be together, they needed to make it work.
And they did, they’ve hid it from everyone for nearly two years now. No one even suspects the pair is together, they never leave anyone have any suspicion on if they might be together. They even go as far as having some little fake argument just to keep up the “we hate one another” image in front of all of their friends — Y/N’s best friend being in that friend group, Harry’s sister.
The only way that this works between the two, is because Harry has his own flat, he bought it recently and Y/N as basically moved in, she’s rarely at her shared flat with her other best friend — always saying she was visiting family for days at a time, but she was really hiding out in Harry’s small one bedroom studio apartment together, cuddled up under blankets away from the world.
Every Friday their friend group has a tradition: they all meet up at the local night club and catch up on their lives, talk about their week, have some drinks and just have fun. As they’re older, their lives are getting more hectic and they have less time together, so this little meet up each week gives them the chance to feel like teens again.
Today is like every other Friday, Y/N is in Harry’s getting ready, the pair fighting over the one bathroom, Harry running in ahead of her for a shower as she “takes too long” and she “has to shave her bits and bobs!” And it “takes for ages!” Y/N always fires back with her usual response: “you’ve long hair too! You don’t see me complaining when you take ten years to apply your hair masks and then give two washes of it all!”
That small argument happened nearly an hour ago, Harry laughed back and slammed the bathroom door in her face as she stands in only his bath robe, her towels in hand along with a new packet of razors she picked up on her way over here. She rolls her eyes and huffs turning around to head back into his bedroom.
“Might want to give it twenty minutes m’love, I used up all the hot water” Harry says calmly, walking out of the steamy bathroom in only a towel slung around his waist and another towel drying the ends of his long curls. Y/N looks up from her phone, her eyes narrow as they only have three hours to get to the club.
“This is why I go first!” She yells out, flopping down onto the bed in annoyance at her boyfriend who’s laughing while running some curl cream through his wet locks, his eyes focused on himself in the mirror.
“Gives you twenty minutes to have some Harry time!” He says wiping the residue of curl cream into his towel, his smile wide as she looks at him from where she’s laying on his bed, her lips in a pout and her brows furrowed in anger.
“I had plenty of Harry time this week, you were like a kid! Barely got any time to even pee!” She yells as Harry just laughs at her angry self, loving how cute she looks when her lips pout and her eyes roll with her pretty eyelashes framing them. He adores her, all of her.
The twenty minutes is spent by Y/N being tickled by Harry as she yelled and laughed loudly while he teased her for being ticklish, her body squirming on the bed as he hovered above her with his fingers tickling her ribcage causing her to loose control of her whole body and melt into a puddle of flailing limbs and loud screeches. Harry eventually let up his tickling, allowing Y/N to finally shower and start to get ready. He’s currently sat on his bed, ready to go in his black and white silk button up, black skinny jeans and some black leather boots. Y/N is currently curling her hair and applying some makeup as she stands in her outfit: a simple black silk dress with black heels.
“Look so beautiful m’heart, love the sparkly straps on your shoes” he points out when she’s finally ready, Harry sliding his phone into his back pocket to get a closer look at his girl, his hands snaked around her waist as he pulls back to rake his eyes up and down her body carefully, his lip between his teeth as he observes her.
“Thank you H, you don’t look too bad yourself. New shirt?” She asks reaching up and tugging on the collar a little, only three buttons done up on the whole shirt leaving his tattooed chest to show through with his many necklaces — what was more eye catching was how sheer the fabric was, allowing his butterfly and other tattoos to be visible when light is shined onto him.
“Bought it last week, more sheer than I thought but hey, who doesn’t want a front row seat to the nipple show? Huh?” He asks shaking his chest at Y/N, her eyes rolling as she slaps his chest playfully as he pulls her in for a kiss.
“Can’t kiss you until we’re back here, which won’t be for like, God knows how many hours” He mumbles against her lips as they kiss one another passionately and slowly, their hands roaming one another’s bodies as they take in every detail of each other.
“You always take me into the bathroom for a quick fuck or a make out session, don’t act like you don’t do that” she fires back with a tug to his bottom lip with her own teeth, a groans escaping his chest at her action, his hands squeezing her ass a little as he pulls her more into him.
“Keep talking like that and we aren’t going anywhere baby” he says lowly, his tongue licking over her bottom lip as she smiles against his lips, her hands roaming his chest, then his stomach and then down to his crotch, giving him a tight squeeze when she feels how hard he’s getting, Harry lets out an involuntary moan at the feeling, his hips pushing into her palm as she licks over his bottom lip slowly as she goes.
“Come on big boy, we have somewhere to be” she says pulling away, fixing her dress and wiping her lipgloss from Harry’s lips, her eyes looking at him innocently as if she didn’t just tease him and get him hard two seconds ago. He groans as she grabs her handbag, throwing a wink over her shoulder at him as she trots towards the front door of the apartment.
“You coming?”
“Unfortunately no” he says sighing, looking down at his erection in his tight skinny jeans, Y/N rolling her eyes at what he means.
“Harry, get out into the cab” she says tapping her foot against the floors, her phone buzzing with messages from the Uber driver that he’s outside and not waiting any longer than five minutes.
“Fine” he sighs, grabbing his house keys and sulking his way towards the cab, Y/N apologising for the delay and Harry just pouting like a toddler beside her as they head off to their night out with all their friends.
The night has gone smoothly, Harry and Y/N sitting at opposite ends of the table they’re all sharing in the booth, their eyes catching one another’s every few minutes but their slight eye fucking flies under the radar due to how dull it is in the club. Their friends are chatting, laughing and singing as they all sip their drinks and talk about nonsense, Y/N being dragged into conversation about how her job as a florist is going by her best friend Jada, while Harry is dragged into a conversation by their friend Chase about nonsense due to his drunken state — Chase loves to pre drink and now he’s drunk as fuck.
Harry is nodding and smiling along to Chase’s words, his fingers fiddling with his beer coaster in boredom, all he wants to do is have drunken chats with Y/N about nonsense like they usually do when they drink at Harry’s place, the pair having a bottle of wine each as they dish out random facts and stories from their childhoods and Harry’s one year long college experience — he dropped out because he couldn’t handle not being around Y/N, she was too far away from him and plus, his dorm mate was a nightmare.
He’s brought out of his small daydream of half listening to Chase while also mumbling along to the words of the song that’s blasting through the speakers in the packed nightclub, by his phone buzzing in his back pocket, he takes it out and keeps it under the table on his lap, looking down to see a notification from Y/N. He doesn’t look up as he opens it, his eyes widen at what the message says.
Y/N: mind if I shake my ass on the dance floor?
Harry: don’t you dare, your ass is mine and mine only. Don’t think about it baby love.
He looks up to see her looking at him, her lip between her teeth as she locks her phone, him mirroring their actions as they stop their small conversation. Her eyes are dark with lust, a tug pulling at the corners of her lips as she leans over to whisper into Jada’s ear. Harry watches her like a hawk, legs spread under the table, arms crossed over his chest and his head thrown back against the wall of the booth as he narrows his eyes at his girlfriend, her own challenging smile getting thrown back right at him.
Jada is the first to move, then Lola and then Y/N, leaving Harry at the other side being sandwiched between Chase and Niall, Niall is currently on the phone trying to speak to his landlord about a busted pipe in his house, but instead of going outside he insists to stay in here, he has a massive fear of missing out. That’s Niall for you. Harry watches Y/N like a hawk, his eyes never leaving her body as she holds onto both Jada and Lola’s hands, their smiles wide and they mouth along to the words of the song,
Her eyes are on him every now and then, her hips swaying as she dances with her friends, others around them dancing aswell as Harry doesn’t take his eyes off his girl on the floor, the lights flashing about and illuminating her every now and then as she moves to the beat of the song.
Harry’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets when he sees her bend over and begin to shake her hips, causing her ass to jiggle about as Lola and Jada spur her on, slapping her ass a little as she laughs loudly, looking over to Harry who’s now stalking his way to the dance floor, pushing past the crowd of people. Jada nearly slaps Harry when he picks Y/N up by her waist, flinging her over his shoulder as she laughs loudly, Harry shaking her head as barely anyone on the floor recognises what’s happening due to how dark it is, Jada and Lola following hot on Harry’s heels as he carries their best friend like a sack of potatoes back to the booth.
“What was that for?!” Jada yells slapping her brothers chest and bicep, her brows furrowed in anger as Harry now holds Y/N close to him his hands around her waist as they both look at Jada with small smiles.
“She was showing off what’s mine” Harry says with a smile, looking down at Y/N who scrunches up her nose with laughter, pecking his lips lightly as they both finally get to show love to another in public, in front of everyone.
“I knew it!” Niall yells nearly falling over the table, Chase whistling and clapping as he nearly passes out due to how much he’s moving right now.
“Only because I told you!” Lola fires at Niall who rolls his eyes looking at them all, Jada stood beside the pair not knowing what to say.
“We all had a feeling, we were just waiting for you both to say something; there’s only so many times we’ll believe your bra just some how ended up in Harry’s car” Jada says rolling her eyes with a smile, Y/N burying her face in Harrys chest in embarrassment over the story.
Jada hugs the two, immediately running up to order a round of shots in celebration of the new couple — well, not that new, but now they’re officially together in the eyes of everyone else. They couldn’t be happier and they couldn’t be more grateful that Jada didn’t lose her shit.
“Guess this little secret of ours is out, huh?” He whispers to her, her smile wide as she looks up at him with her arms slung around his neck holding him close.
“I guess so, boyfriend”
573 notes · View notes
rocorambles · 3 years
Text
Hit It Till It Breaks
Pairing: Oikawa x Reader
Genre/Warnings: Yandere, Mafia AU, NSFW, Drug Dealing, Dub-Con/Non-Con Sex, Dub-Con/Non-Con Drug Consumption, Drug Addiction, Manipulation, Humiliation, Degradation, Prostitution, Slight Pet Play
Prompt: Hard At Work
Summary: Growing up, you’d always loved fairy tales and happy endings. You’d always believed that despite how bad things might seem or get, there would be a light at the end of the tunnel. But you’re quickly realizing that this isn’t a fairy tale, that there is no happy ending, and that sometimes, you only go downhill, farther and farther from the light. 
Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist to see how everyone decided to run with this spicy prompt.  
(Thank you as always @sawamooora for helping me keep this a coherent degenerate mess~)
It’s hard to believe that bright eyed girl holding her college diploma in the photo on your nightstand was you not that long ago. And your heart clenches when you remember how hopeful you had been. So excited to venture out and experience life. Ready to enter the job market. Ready to be an adult. 
Doors opened and closed. But you hadn’t let it deter you at first. It just wasn’t meant to be. You can’t expect to get the first job you interview for! 
But then more and more doors opened, only to be shut in your face.Your rose-tinted glasses began to crack as your funds quickly dwindled, as you lowered your standards, desperately mass applying to any small time company vaguely related to your major, only to be turned away at every step. 
And now, here you are, barely able to make rent, barely able to even feed yourself with the little you have from odd part-time jobs you’ve managed to stitch together into some sort of financial life line. 
Well, you HAD been barely able to make rent, but your hands tremble when you stare at the letter notifying you that your rent will begin to increase starting next month, mind speeding into a panicked haze as you unsuccessfully try to think of what to do, how you can possibly afford to live even in this dump anymore. And before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re scrambling, stumbling to your bathroom, throwing open your medicine cabinet as you rummage for the little pills that you know will help slow down your racing thoughts and provide much needed clarity. 
You swear everything seems clearer as soon as the smooth texture hits your tongue and you can finally breathe, slumping down on the cold tiles of your floor, pill bottle still clutched in your hand as you allow yourself to relax, praying for any ideas to flow through you. And it hits you like a ton of bricks when your grip on the plastic container accidentally loosens and the bottle clangs against the floor. 
A humorless chuckle slips past your lips as you stare at the rolling cylinder. 
Drug dealing. Fucking drug dealing. 
You can’t believe you’re even thinking of going down this route, but your mind flashes back to old roommates, old friends, old classmates who had nonchalantly made a pretty bundle on the side, carelessly tossing around and selling all types of prescription drugs on campus. And you vividly remember how simple they had made it seem, how they had all gotten away with it. Scrumptious meals, pricey alcohol, far beyond a college palette, and beautiful clothing were the only “consequences” for their crimes. 
If they could do it, you could too. Or so you’d like to think. 
But as naive and ignorant as you are about this line of work, even you know there’s a difference between selling to silly college students on campus, and selling it at a popular nightclub owned by an infamous crime syndicate. 
Even as far removed as you are from the more seedy underbelly of the new city you live in, you know of the Seijoh Syndicate. Everyone in town does. It’s hard not to when they literally run and own the entire place. 
Oikawa Tooru and the rest of the Seijoh Four run their domain with an iron fist. They’re practically nonexistent, merely a scary story to keep people in line, for those who abide by the laws and keep their noses out of trouble, but an all too real nightmare for those who choose to defy them. And you shudder, remembering the horror stories you had heard of exactly what happens to those who decide to try and start their own nefarious business and practices on Seijoh streets without Oikawa’s permission. 
But surely they wouldn’t pay you any mind? Right? Surely a mere girl in her early twenties selling the leftover prescription medicine she has in her cabinets for one night won’t do any harm? 
Maybe it’s stupid to go to such a prevalent and well known club, especially one that’s notoriously favored by the Seijoh Four. But you convince yourself that it’s the most crowded venue in the area with a target demographic who’s guaranteed to buy you out, even at the obscene prices you plan on charging. How would anyone even notice you? Where else could you go? What options do you even have? 
So despite the nervous pit swelling in your stomach, you soldier on, plastering a cheery smile at the bouncer who easily waves you in without a second glance, slipping into the sweaty mass of bodies, going deeper and deeper until you’re surrounded - skin, bones, and muscles pressing against you on all sides, safe from any prying eyes. 
Or so you believe. 
You know who the Seijoh Four are. You even know their names. But never have you met them, never have you ever seen a picture of what they each look like. Not that it would help you if you did when you’re so laser focused on finding potential customers, not even bothering to look around to see if anyone’s watching you. So you carry on, unaware of the four sets of eyes looking at you in amusement from their roost high above the writhing crowds. 
There’s nothing subtle about the way you sloppily nudge people, practically shoving your pills in stranger’s faces, almost wildly waving your merchandise around you in a desperate attempt to pull in buyers. Sweaty nervous hands fumble as you exchange little plastic baggies for wads of cash and Matsukawa raises a brow in disbelief while Hanamaki cackles when you drop your merch and payment, getting on all fours on the trashed dance floor to recollect your goods. 
It might be the most amusing show they’ve had in a while, but Iwaizumi feels a pang of pity at the wild hopeless look in your eyes and he swiftly stands, brusquely telling the other three that he’s going to go down and tell you off with just a warning, only to be stopped when Oikawa smoothly stands to his feet, effectively blocking Iwaizumi’s path. 
“Now, now Iwa-chan. Don’t be so hasty. Let me go talk to the cutie. I’ve been so bored recently and she looks like she’ll be fun! Plus you’ll make her cry with that scary face of yours.” 
Suddenly the sight of you bumbling around isn’t quite as entertaining as the remaining three men watch the brunette prowl towards you, heavy realization of what’s to come sombering the mood.  
 You’re frantic, flitting about the throngs of flailing limbs and swaying bodies, frustration from not being able to get through your supplies fast enough weighing at your conscious. Sure, you’ve managed to accrue some cash, but it’s not enough, not nearly enough to even feed yourself for the coming week let alone make a dent in the daunting rent that looms over you. And you can feel hot tears prick at the corner of your eyes when you see that it’s almost closing time and you’re still stuck with more than half your inventory, no closer to figuring out how to survive. So when a hand firmly rests on your shoulder, you whip around, ready to take your anger out on the poor soul who’s managed to catch you at the worst time. But you freeze, vicious words stuck in your mouth when you see the handsome man beaming down at you, a thick wad of rolled up bills haphazardly dangling from his fingers. 
“I heard you might have some stuff I’d be interested in.” 
You wonder if this is all a dream, if the man in front of you is (ironically a devilishly) handsome angel swooping into save you when he casually asks you how much stuff you still have, how much you’d be willing to sell everything for, not even blinking an eye at your outrageous price tag. You’re so stunned by how quick he is to call it a done deal, not resisting even a bit as he wraps his hand around your wrist, pulling you after him, saying some vague comments about wanting to go somewhere a little more private since it’s a bigger trade. All you can think about is how you’ll finally be able to eat something other than instant noodles and not have to worry about rent as you throw yourself back into interviewing, too lost in thoughts to be wary of how you’re being dragged farther and farther away from the rowdy crowd. 
But the sound of a door slamming shut behind you jolts you back to reality and Oikawa fights back a laugh at how adorable you are, eyes blown wide like a deer in headlights as your head swivels side to side, dismay and panic making you tremble when you survey the private room you’re in, throat nervously gulping when you notice the three other occupants. 
You’re so predictable and Oikawa just rolls his eyes fondly at how you swiftly turn around, trying to lunge towards the door in an attempt to escape, taking his time to leisurely make his way towards you, brown orbs taking in every inch of you as Matsukawa and Hanamaki hold your writhing body in place. 
It’s so satisfying watching you crumble to pieces before his very eyes at just the mention of his name, despair and fear swirling beautifully on your face when he continues to introduce the rest of the Seijoh Four. It never gets old, that deliciously addicting feeling of power he feels when people tremble from just a few syllables and he relishes in your pleading apologies and your tears, patiently waiting for you to finish your little sob story, barely listening to the details as he focuses in on how gorgeous you are, broken and vulnerable. 
And really, there’s no need for him to pay close attention to your blabbering anyway. It always comes down to one thing…
 “So you need money, cutie? How about working for me?”
 “Oye! Oikawa-”
“I’m just asking her some questions, Iwa-chan.”
There’s tense silence and your eyes nervously flicker back and forth between the two imposing figures staring each other down, green and brown eyes clashing in a silent argument. But as if they’ve somehow come to a conclusion, Iwaizumi tsks and looks away while Oikawa turns his attention back to you, a sickeningly cheerful grin on his face. 
Blood curling fear lances through you and you’re almost grateful for the two pairs of strong arms holding you tight, their grip keeping you from falling to your knees as your legs threaten to give out under the pressure you feel as Oikawa thoughtfully looks at you. 
You know the smart answer would be to adamantly say no and promptly figure out a way to leave this moment far behind you, even if it means forfeiting any money you had made tonight. But...a job is a job, right? And surely a job in the Seijoh Syndicate would be more lucrative than anything you’re doing now, right? 
Oikawa hides a smile at the way he can see the cogs in your head turn, apprehension turning to curiosity as you stutter out questions about pay and what the job would entail. Desperation is a good look on anyone, but it suits you particularly well and just like that, hook, line, and sinker, he has a new cute live-in maid to replace the recently vacated role.  
Working as Oikawa’s maid is more...normal than you would have expected. Not that you’re complaining and other than the embarrassing maid outfit he makes you wear, complete with frilly bow and garters, the chores are mundane. Bring breakfast to him and wake him. Clean his room and do his laundry when he’s away at meetings or jobs. Make sure guests have refreshments when they come over to his large estate, a mansion you now also call home. 
If you’re honest, it’s much more relaxing than the multiple part-time jobs you had been juggling previously, and with free board, free food, and the substantial paycheck that regularly makes its way to your bank account, you can see your future brightening up again. When your duties are done for the day, you resume practicing for interviews and keeping up with the industry, feeling emboldened and empowered to finally resume working towards the career path you had always dreamed of. 
But the more time you spend with Oikawa, the closer and more entangled in your life the brunette becomes. Alarm bells ring wildly in your head as you’re forced to join him for meals, forced to dress in elaborate gowns and jewelry while you’re waltzed around on his arm, forced to travel around the world with him, and attend to him like a glorified assistant. He’s too charming, too familiar, too bold, and you can’t help but feel like you’re racing towards some inevitable crash as he easily brushes aside any boundaries between the two of you. 
You know so many women would kill to be in your shoes and you can understand why, not completely immune to his playful smile and the lilt of his voice yourself. But you know better, know exactly how dangerous it would be to get involved with a man like Oikawa Tooru. 
It’s clear from the crimson stains on the clothes he leaves for you to either dispose of, or have cleaned. It’s clear from the wails and sobs of woman after woman he uses and tosses aside like garbage on an almost daily basis. It’s clear from the guns, knives, and weapons, most of which you don’t even know the name of, filling up all the walls, drawers, and cabinets.  
So you do your best to keep your distance, building titanium walls around your heart. Always polite, too terrified of what would happen if you pissed him off, but cold enough to deter him from more amorously or intimately testing his boundaries. 
And it seems to work as he turns his eyes towards other women, leaving you alone after throwing a few flirty comments and winks your way and ultimately falling in bed with some other poor damsel. But you nervously gulp when it’s just the two of you one night and just as you’re ready to make yourself scarce after turning down his bed and laying out his pajamas, his voice beckons you over and you anxiously bite your lower lip at the sight of pills of all shapes and sizes splayed out across his desk.    
Other than your prescription medicine, you don’t have a lot of experience with drugs other than the few blunts here and there during your college years and you had always strictly kept to your recommended doses, never even entertaining the idea of taking more. So the sight in front of you is overwhelming and you hesitantly stare anywhere but at the table surface, anxiously waiting for Oikawa to explain why he called you over. But what you’re not expecting is the warm hand gently grasping your wrist and holding your arm out, small objects being carefully placed in your outstretched palm, and soft coaxing from Oikawa to “give them a try”. 
Every part of you is screaming to throw the pills and make a run for it, begging you to come up with some excuse or just outright reject his offer. But it’s as if your body is frozen and he firmly pushes your hand to your mouth, grip tightening enough to make you wince when you hesitate to listen. The slight pain is enough to remind you that you’re not exactly in any position to negotiate and you force yourself to down the pills and gulp down the glass of water he holds to your lips. 
The last thing you remember is the unsettling feeling of beginning a descent to an unknown place from which there is no return as Oikawa pulls you to his bed. And then euphoria floods through you as your body slots against his larger frame. 
It feels good. Too good. Unnaturally good. But it’s intoxicating and you can’t help but let yourself drown in the hazy waves crashing down upon you, feeling lighter, freer, happier than you have for years. You vaguely register roaming hands, a hot wet mouth, a body on top of yours, something hard pressing against the apex of your thighs, filling you, consuming you in heady pleasure only amplified by the drugs coating your insides.  
Bliss. Pleasure. Pure unadulterated joy. And then nothing. 
When you come to, the weight of what had happened last night comes crashing down on you, making your foggy mind throb even more and you can feel bile rising inside of you as a toned arm around your waist tightens its hold on you. Oikawa grunts in annoyance when you claw your way out from his hold, scampering on shaky legs to his bathroom, heaving and expelling the contents of your stomach, trying futilely to cleanse yourself of your employer’s touch. 
You flinch when you hear footsteps approach, shrinking into the corner of the tiled room, body crouched and curled into a tight ball as you try to save any shred of dignity you still have by hiding your naked body as much as you can from his prying eyes. Salty drops threaten to trail down your face when he hovers over you, sweetly cooing down at you “not to be like this”, “you liked it so much last night”, “come back to bed with me” only to stream down your face when his countenance swiftly changes, handsome face glowering down at you before brusquely turning away and snapping at you to “get on with your work then if you’re going to be an annoying bitch”. 
It’s easy to convince yourself that you’re just being smart, just trying to survive as you obediently wash up and don your humiliating uniform, that it isn’t just you being a coward as you submissively go about your usual work day, still sitting with thighs pressed against Oikawa’s legs at meals, making no move to brush off the heavy arm he slings around your shoulders, only slightly flinching when his fingertips teasingly play with the hem of your skirt as he converses with the rest of the Seijoh Four. 
But you can’t deny that all you are is a weak fool, desperate to live when you shakily accept the pills he pushes towards you again that night, silently crying yet not doing anything to prevent the inevitable as you swallow any self-respect or pride you had along with the smooth pellets under his watchful gaze, too scared of the glimmer of gunmetal you see on the inside of his jacket to even think of resisting. 
And history repeats itself. Over and over again. 
Oikawa smiles at how different you are from that skittish creature who fled from his every touch, smirking at how naive and innocent you still are as you try to hide how eager you are for your daily dose, unaware of how he’s slowly been increasing it every night, ignorant of how you unconsciously lean into his touches, pretty lips wrapping around his fingers as he hand feeds you. 
Do you know what an animal you are in bed these days? Do you realize how little there is left to differentiate you from one of his filthy whores when you’re so doped up on whatever he gives you, moaning like a pornstar and leaving vicious red claw marks on his skin as you bounce on his cock? 
And he knows it’s time to move onto the next phase of your conditioning when there’s not even a speck of shame in your clear eyes when the sunlight begins to filter through the window, knowingly smiling in satisfaction when instead of slinking off to wallow in your regret you shimmy down between his legs and begin to nuzzle and mouth his morning wood, face full of nothing but wanton desire as you take his cock in your mouth. 
He doesn’t give you anything that night. Or the next night. Or the one after that. He doesn’t so much as even look at you outside of your usual eye contact, not a single flirtatious word slipping past his lips.
You should be grateful. This is what you wanted, right? To keep things strictly professional between the two of you. To not be coerced into the artificial pleasure you’ve been swallowing on a daily basis for the last month now. To not feel like just another warm body for Oikawa to taint. 
Your interview notes and open tab of job listings are right there, begging for your attention, practically screaming at you to pursue the life you’ve always dreamed of. 
Yet here you are, not even a week later, on your knees in between Oikawa’s legs as he leisurely reclines in his chair, peppering his inner thighs with kisses and rubbing your face against the growing bulge in his trousers, begging and pleading for another dose, feeling utterly empty and cold inside, unable to sleep, unable to focus, unable to function without the nights of hazy ecstasy. 
Your heart drops at the long disappointed sigh the brunette releases. 
“Drugs are expensive, cutie. I was just being nice and letting you try some new batches we’ve been producing, but now that they’re on the market, I can’t just keep on giving them to you for free.” 
He rolls his eyes when you adamantly tell him you’ll pay whatever the price is, a condescending smirk splitting his face from how quick you are to shut up, soul crushed when he reveals the extravagant cost, a price he knows you can’t afford with the salary he’s providing you with. 
But he artfully softens his smile as he begins to unbuckle his pants, sliding the fabric down and letting his throbbing cock spring into view, chuckling when it lightly slaps your face as it’s released from its confines, wondering if you’re drooling from the sight of his erection or the pills he’s playfully placing along the length of it. 
“I know you don’t have that money, cutie. But I’d be willing to accept other forms of payments.”
The words are barely out of his mouth before you’re rushing to take him in his mouth and he loudly laughs at how obscene you look, slobbering all over his length, fervently bobbing your head up and down, hastily trying to deep throat him to reach the pill strategically placed right at the base of his shaft, lips puckering as you inhale the drugs, swallowing around him in a way that has him groaning as you stuff your face full of chemicals and pre-cum. And it doesn’t take much longer for him to wash your mouth and throat with warm rivulets of sticky white fluids as he watches the goods take effect, his balls tightening and cock straining with arousal as you reach between your legs, fingers playing with your tight dripping hole while your lewd moans vibrate against him. 
It’s pathetically endearing how you can’t keep off of him after that, insisting on sitting on his lap during meals, your cute ass grinding against his clothed cock, always dropping to your knees in between chores, warming his cock in your greedy mouth, always asking him how many pills you’ve earned so far. You really are just his little slutty drug addict now, aren’t you? 
But he needs you to be more than that, needs you to learn that you belong to anyone who’s willing to give you the high you crave, needs you to realize that you’re just a free use drug addicted whore for anyone and everyone to use. 
So despite how tempting it is to just plunge balls deep inside your tight little pussy, he shoves you off of him one night as you try to grind against his body, feigning exhaustion and boredom of your body, watching in amusement at the panicked crazed look that flashes across your face at his words. Well aren’t you a beautiful sight, throwing yourself at his feet and groveling, saying you’ll do anything for another dose. 
Anything, huh? 
In your defense, even through the daze of your withdrawal, there’s still a wary expression on your face when Matsukawa and Hanamaki enter the room. Maybe you aren’t as broken as Oikawa had thought. But when you see the little baggies filled with the tablets you’ve become far too familiar with twirling between the duo’s fingers, you practically lunge at them and Oikawa finally allows himself the pleasure of reaching into his pants and stroking himself to the debauched sight playing out in front of him. 
Maybe he needs to fuck you in front of a mirror more often if this is what you look like from an outside perspective. It’s like you were made to be used, to be just a warm toy for men to use and Oikawa can’t help but think you look best like this, cocks penetrating both your front and back holes, your body squeezed between two bodies. And he fondly smiles at how you have Hanamaki’s face between the palms of your hands, your lips locked in a sloppy kiss as your tongue ravages the strawberry blonde’s mouth, searching for the pills the man had playfully placed on the tip of his tongue in front of your very eyes before winking at you and telling you to come and get them yourself if you wanted them so badly. 
They keep your daily training a surprise, mixing up who gets to wreck your body each day, how many cocks and rounds of cum you’ll need to pay with, what pills and dosage you get. Always keeping you lost and confused, making sure your mind is just a muddled mess that can only think of reaching your next high by any means necessary. 
Hell, even Iwaizumi takes part when he realizes that you’re beyond the point of no return, that Oikawa wasn’t joking when he said that there is no other choice for you anymore. This is your life now. This is who you are now. This is your “happily ever after”. He knows all that, can see all that in the way your dazed eyes only come to life at the sight of your addiction, your otherwise listless body perking up at the sound of the tiny objects rattling in their container. And yet a small sliver of guilt has him growling at you to get on all fours, ensuring your face isn’t visible, turning you into just another body for him to mindlessly use as he pleases. 
It’s an uncomfortable position, borderline painful as your knees rock back and forth on the hard floor with every brutal thrust of Iwaizumi’s hips. But you don’t care, the aching pain in your legs just dull background noise as you fixate on the tablets scattered on the floor in front of your face, dropping your entire upper body low to the ground, only your hips raised high as your mouth snaps forward. You’re so close and you mewl as your lips make contact with the first pill, uncaring of the pitiful sight you make licking and lapping the floor, whimpering when a hand firmly grabs you by the hair and roughly pulls your face away from your feast. 
“Maybe we should get you a dog bowl, cutie. It’s humiliating even for you to be eating from the dirty floor like that. Hold her hair for me, Iwa-chan.” 
You crane your neck back and forth, jaw jutting forward as you frantically fight against the tight grip holding you back, mouth drooling and tongue extending like a ravenous animal. But it’s no use and you whine, too focused on your unfinished “meal” to notice how Oikawa is still standing in front of you, cock pulled out from his pants, his hands rapidly fisting the shaft. And only when thick white spurts glaze the remaining pills do you whip your attention towards him, staring with hopeful wide eyes when he crouches in front of you and grabs your face. 
“When Iwa-chan lets go of your hair, you’ll get to have the rest of your treats, but you also have to eat the special seasoning I’ve generously given you, okay? If I see even a speck of it left, you’re not getting anything tomorrow, understand?”
Oikawa laughs at how vigorously you nod your head and with a nod in Iwaizumi’s direction, you’re released and the two men watch on as you lick the floor until it’s sparkling clean, slumping your face in the mess of your own drying saliva as you reach euphoria once more. You wail as Iwaizumi shoves you off a cliff and into floating clouds of bliss with one last thrust, the drugs in your system weaving a comforting cocoon around you that you melt into, unable to escape its soothing pull, giggling in content as his seed fills you to the brim. 
There’s silence as Iwaizumi pulls out of you, tucking himself back into his pants before sitting besides Oikawa, joining him as he continues observing your used and drugged up body sprawled across the floor, a dopey smile on your face as cum begins to leak out of your spent pussy. 
Minutes pass and Iwaizumi sighs, knowing what Oikawa is waiting for him to ask despite how insistent he has been over the years about not wanting to be involved in this particular side of the business...
“Are you going to have her start working at the brothel soon? She seems just about ready.” 
“Not yet. I want to give her a few test runs first before I have her work full-time at that establishment. She’s only been with the four of us, so I’m curious to see how she is with a complete stranger. It’s perfect timing too since Sawamura is coming over for a meeting soon and I know he won’t damage the goods if I gift her to him for a night or two. Plus, she hasn’t completely lost her mind yet so we can get some more use out of her before we toss her aside...”
The brunette rambles on, tone light and airy as if he’s just discussing the weather or a TV show he watched, as if he’s not mere feet away from a woman he’s utterly destroyed and rebuilt into just another brainless profit-making doll. 
And Iwaizumi tunes him out, already having heard almost this exact speech countless times by now, unable to even keep track of how many others like you there have been in the past, unwilling to think about how many more there will be in the future. But he snorts at Oikawa’s typical closing line.
“I guess it’s almost time to find a new cute maid.” 
832 notes · View notes
burnedbyshoto · 4 years
Text
house sitting & concupiscence
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— In which Endeavor asks Shouto for a favor, and Shouto decides to take his payment by fucking you on his bed. —
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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader
warnings: cursing, 18+ smut, dom!shouto, masturbation, toys (spreader bar, bondage, vibrator, collar, leash, gag, & fuck machine), master kink, spanking, temperature play, marking, pain, choking, torture punishment, overstimulation, voyeurism, slapping, oral (giving), hair pulling (receiving), semi-brat taming, anal (receiving), breeding kink
word count: 18,631
a/n: i know its long, but,,, please read LMAO. this took me a full ass week to write. im exhausted, im buzzing because idk how this went LMAOOOO, let me know what you think! please carefully read the warning, I will not be addressing anything about anal in my askbox (unless youre roasting me, which is understandable because lmao)
message to join tag list :)
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“Why are we going to your dad’s house?”
Tonight was supposed to be your date night with Shouto, and given that for the past two months, the two of you had been busy every day and night adjusting to being working adults, the two of you had been excited to go out. Next week would make two years, but it seemed the two of you would only be able to celebrate it during the dead of night. So, with a kind smile and a gentle kiss, you convinced Shouto that the two of you could celebrate the week prior. After all, it didn’t matter that it wasn’t quite two years; you both loved each other plenty enough to overlook the actual date.
Like for any celebration, you found yourself sitting in front of your vanity mirror as you applied your makeup. Your hair was done up in the most elegant style you could muster on your own, and you wore a simple yet gorgeous little black dress. Your head tilted in the mirror as you looked at your reflection. Your legs were shapely and smooth from the increased physical work you were doing, and the heels you paired with the outfit hung from your fingers.
You thought you looked hot, to say the least. What you didn’t expect was for Shouto to step into your shared room with his nostrils flared and eyes cold. Your eyes widened as you turned toward him, but the anger in his face disappeared immediately as he took you in.
His eyebrow quirked; a natural smile pressed into his face as his hands shoved into the pocket of his slacks.
“Don’t you look beautiful,” Shouto comments as he strolls up next to you. The steps were so casual, it was as if the two of you were strangers flirting in a bar, and not lovers two years into a serious relationship. “Who got you this outfit?”
Biting your lip, you chuckled, your arms wrapping around his neck, and you relaxed as he locked his around your waist. Your fingers rose to brush his short hair, the undercut was new, but it was a look you very much enjoyed on him.
Rising up onto your toes, you smile, seeing the way he leans towards you until your ruby painted lips brush against his earlobe.
“Your brother,” you tease, laughing loudly as he moves away, mock disgust and jealousy on his face.
“My brother? I’ll teach you to accept such pretty things from people who aren’t me,” Shouto warns as his fingers slip under the hem of the dress, eliciting a shout from you. He doesn’t seem to be deterred as his fingers hike the skirt of the dress further up until your cheeks turn red, and your protests are nothing but stutters.
“T-The reservations, Shoucchan,” you manage to get out as his lips press against your jugular vein.
“What about them?” Shouto mumbles against your skin as he backs you towards the bed.
“They’re s-soon,” you gasp as his teeth skim your skin, and his hands massage slowly against your ass. “We can’t miss it.”
Two months of hardly seeing each other also meant two months of not having sex or any sort of physical contact, and your actions exposed your need quickly. Your heels dropped with a loud clang, and you let Shouto do as he pleased.
To your dismay, however, the clatter of your heels on the floor caused Shouto’s ministrations to cease. Your eyes blinked as you focused back on him, your chest hammering and lust scorching your skin as you tried to concentrate on your boyfriend.
“Shouto?”
His eyes were once more consumed with the irritation and annoyance that had plagued him before you two interacting. Groaning loudly, you did not miss the way his eyes rolled before he focused back onto you.
“…we have to cancel the reservation.”
So, there you sit in the car, still dressed up with Shouto to your right driving, his hands clenching so tight around the wheel that his knuckles are white.
You sigh and tug his arm towards you. The way he attempts to jerk his arm away doesn’t escape you, but you still clutch his arm and lace your fingers with his. You place a soft kiss to the back of his hand and smile when you see him relax. It’s a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
“Are you going to answer my question, or are you going to leave me in the dark?” You ask again, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb.
Shouto sighs and looks over at you. His face is still set with annoyance, but his eyes brighten when he looks at you, and his lips quirk into the smallest of smiles.
“You’re annoying,” he says, and you scoff in protest. He smiles broader and brings your hand to his mouth and presses a gentle kiss to it.
Shifting in the leather seat to face him a bit better, you stretch towards him, your eyes wide with curiosity. “Answer my question, brat!”
Shouto sits there for a bit, gathering his emotions before he sighs, annoyed once again. “He asked Fuyumi-nee to take care of his house for tonight.”
Your eyebrows scrunch. You know that Fuyumi has a vital interview tomorrow for her job, and knowing the hero’s life, she would have to stay there late into the night. “Doesn’t she have the—?”
“Yeah, so she said no,” Shouto sighs, his hand in yours tightening. “Natsuo also has a lot of exams, and he and Endeavor aren’t on good terms still, so… that’s why he couldn’t take it. So, Endeavor called me and pulled a ‘you owe me a favor’ card from our second year. Didn’t fucking care that I had plans.”
“Why does he need someone to take care of his house?” You ask, trying to keep Shouto from hyper-fixating onto Endeavors’ ignorance detail. “He lives there alone?”
“He’s paranoid about some low-class villains going to his door when no one is there since his address was exposed,” Shouto rolls his eyes as the two of you pull into the driveway of Endeavors Residence. “Some fucking number one hero he is.”
“And he wanted Fuyumi to watch the house?!” You gasp, your eyes widening. Shouto nods his head as he unbuckles his seatbelt, and he’s out of the door before you could finish asking your question. You sigh and unbuckle your belt, knowing how infuriated Shouto is.
Your brush your hair out of your face, and the car door opened. You looked up with a small grin as Shouto offered you a hand.
“If I’m being forced to spend our anniversary here, I’m going to do it correctly, as if everything was going according to plan.”
Giggling, you let Shouto help you out of the car, and you couldn’t help but bring your exasperated boyfriend in for a gentle kiss. The kiss lasts less than a few seconds, but as you pull away, the irritability on Shouto’s face is gone as he smiles.
“I love you,” he says, closing the car door behind you.
“I love you too.” You smile like a lovestruck idiot as he begins to lead you to the front door. “We should have brought our costumes; surprise a few lowlives with our signatures.”
“Are you suggesting we let them rob Endeavor?” Shouto asks as he unlocks the front door.
“I just might be!” You laugh as you step in and remove your shoes.
It was currently five in the evening, and thus your date night commenced.
After two hours, you found yourself curled up on Shouto’s lap. You busied yourself with shoving popcorn in his mouth as you two watched Avatar the Last Airbender. The two of you had been watching it together since Shouto finally confessed that he had no idea why he was always compared to Prince Zuko.
Months of watching a few episodes every occasional night when you two had time lead you two to the finale now.
“I see the comparison now,” Shouto admitted with a mouthful of popcorn, and you hushed him again.
“Zuko may die!” You cried as on the screen, Zuko faced off with Azula, “He can lose, and you finally getting the comparison to the hottest man in the world is not a good excuse to distract me!”
“We can use fire, a scar, and a horrible father,” Shouto continues talking despite your attempts to quiet him as fire and lightning roared on the screen. “I was never the bad guy, was I?”
“You were a complete prick in the beginning, like Zuko,” you point out as you still focus entirely onto the T.V., “I mean, you did threaten to kill someone when we were fifteen. Talk about edgy! Plus, you didn’t want friends until Deku destroyed half of his body for you!”
“You’re an asshole,” Shouto huffs as he pushes you off of him, and you groan as you watch as he stands up.
“Where do you think you’re going?” You call after him as you sit up onto your knees, you faced him as he walked out with his cellphone raised for you to see that he was getting a call from Endeavor.
Your mouth drops, and you nod as Shouto walks outside to talk with his dad. You settle back down onto the couch and grab the remote, pausing the show and sinking into the sofa. Your fingers brush against your dress as you wait for Shouto to come back.
It felt like an eternity before Shouto returned; the front door slamming behind him, causing you to wince. Shouto stormed over, his eyes blazing with fury, and he clenched a case in his hand as he glared in your direction. It would have been unsettling had you not known whom his anger was directed at. He stops a few strides away from you, clearly not in the mood to finish up the Avatar series.
“What happened, baby?” You ask, standing up. A soft scoff escapes his lips as he shakes his head.
“He thought I was here alone,” Shouto explains, his head low. “He makes me come take care of his house, knowing that I had plans tonight, then he expected me to be here alone?!”
Your eyes widen as a chill runs down your spine. Endeavor was not a people person, that was a given, and there was no saying whether or not he liked you being Shouto’s girlfriend, but for him to not like the idea of being here was a bit off-putting.
“Do you need me to leave?” you find yourself asking as you walked over to Shouto with short strides. You knew that their relationship, while it had vastly improved since three years ago, was still rocky. You wanted Shouto to be as comfortable around his dad as much as possible, even if it meant you stepping away when needed. “I can get—”
“No,” Shouto snaps, his nostrils flaring, a furious fire flashing in his eyes, and his lips curling into a wry smile. “You’re not leaving.”
“If Endeavor doesn’t want me—”
“Fuck what Endeavor wants,” Shouto growls as he lets you pull him into a soft embrace, but he’s tense and doesn’t melt into your touch like he usually does. “I want you, y/n, and he ruined our night. He doesn’t have the damn right to tell me what I can or can’t do when I’m happy.”
You nervously licked your lips as you stroked his back gently in hopes of derailing his palpable anger. There was just no use in having Shouto getting worked up about something that Endeavor wasn’t going to be able to change in the long run anyway.
“It’s okay,” you whisper as you pull away, your eyes trying to shine brightly as you press a gentle kiss to his mouth. “I won’t leave!”
There’s a harsh stream of air that escapes his nose, and he’s stiff against you, his lips unmoving, but he returned the kiss nonetheless.
“This is our night,” you whisper against his mouth as your lips press against his jawline and pepper slow kisses down his jaw. He seems to have an internal battle of remaining angry and caving to your touch. “You have a room here, it’s just us two, let’s have some fun! Come on, forget about Endeavor.”
As a hero, there were moments where you could feel impending danger or something on the horizon. Be it a sixth sense, or just fantastic gut feeling, but the moment those words left your mouth, they hit you in the gut. Pulling away, your eyes focus on Shouto, whose eyes are shut tight, and you watch as his jaw muscle flares before his eyes open.
Todoroki Shouto was no longer his younger self. While still prone to acting solely on his emotions, he was in control. The last time you had seen the pure rage in Shouto’s eyes was long before the two of you had been together, and something crawled down your spine as you attempted to speak, to understand what he was thinking about, and to stop whatever he was planning.
But then he let out a dark chuckle.
And you were too slow.
His mouth slams against yours, and your body goes back with the collision, but he doesn’t let you free. His kiss is hot, drowning, intoxicating, and full of burning energy that you didn’t realize he had in him. His free hand presses into your lower back, keeping you pressed against him as his mouth tries to get you to break. Your hands press against his shoulders in an attempt to slow him down, but it doesn’t seem to have the effect you were hoping for.
His hand leaves the bottom of your back to tangle into your hair, your resounding groan of both pain and pleasure resonates through you, and it clouds your judgment. Your hands — against your better sense — wrap around the back of his neck, drawing him in closer. His hot tongue swiped at your bottom lip immediately.
Not wanting to give in to his insistence, you purse your lips against his harsh kiss. He didn’t seem to agree with you. The hand that held the black case smacked against your ass, and you gasped at the stinging pain as the case rattled.
His tongue invades your mouth in an intense affair, and your mind spins at the way his tongue drops in temperature before warming up. It sends a pleasant and dull throb through your body, and you moan into his mouth. Were you really going to let Shouto fuck you in a house that wasn’t yours? The two of you had fucked in places that weren’t your house, but it was never a family home, much less his dad’s house, but his tongue curls to tease the roof of your mouth, and it sends an uncontrollable shudder down your spine.
Your cheeks glow with embarrassment, and your eyes are wide in shock. “Shouto’s really going for it,” you thought. His lips are scorching, but it’s his eyes that make your thighs tremble. His eyes are nearly glowing with lust and desire, there’s still that animosity in his eyes and a sense of arrogance that made you want nothing more than to retaliate.
“I hope you’re ready for what’s happening tonight,” Shouto smirks, and you pant trying to control your racing heart.
“You know I am,” you lie confidently, despite the tremor in your voice and the weakness in your knees.
His hand moves to your cheeks, and you feel a growing heat from his hand as he places yet another ardent kiss onto your slowly bruising lips. Shouto’s lips are magnetic against yours, continuously pulling you in, sucking you in until you were gasping for more. Then he would move to nibble on your senseless lips in your overwhelmed state.
Low and soft pants with intermixed gasps begin to leave your mouth as you try to calm down, this kiss was so unlike his typical embrace, but you fucking loved this dominant persona that he dons. Your arms wrap around his neck, drawing him nearer, eliminating the space between you so that nothing could dare to come between, but your hips have a mind of their own, and you feel yourself grinding your crotch against his.
A low and nearly angry hiss leaves his lips, and your breath hitches as his mouth leaves yours. In a fashion similar to yours earlier that day, his mouth presses multiple kisses against your jawline, but they’re sturdy, intense, and full of teeth. Your mouth drops as you let out a curled moan at the feeling of his teeth sinking into the skin below your jaw.
It wasn’t a typical love bite; this was marking. You could feel his intent to break your skin with the mark, and the heat between your legs flared as he took a step forward, and with that, you made a step back.
You’ve only been to this house a few times, and most of the time, you only come here for Fuyumi’s sake of keeping the family close. Awkward yet lively dinner conversations had led to Shouto showing you his childhood room that hadn’t been touched since he was fifteen. Sure, the two of you were nineteen, but a bedroom that hadn’t been touched in four years was something sinisterly haunting.
Shouto’s bedroom was the closest to the master bedroom — Endeavors room. That you knew because the grandest and most intricately beautiful door in this house belonged to Endeavors’ room.
Imagine the horror that sank in your when your lust hazed vision watched as Shouto’s childhood room passed you and your back hit a door.
“Shouto! This is—”
“I know,” Shouto growled against your burning neck. He had left enough bites on your neck to hurt, but the throbbing pain only added to the throbbing heat of your core. “You deserve to be fucked on a good bed, not my childhood one.”
“But Endeavor!” Pathetically you try to get him to move off you, but Shouto opens the door, and the two of you stumble in. “We can’t—!”
“Don’t worry,” he chuckles as he pulls away from your marked neck, “he won’t know.”
Your eyes widened as he lets you go, and you hesitated in moving towards the enormous bed before you. This was too much, you couldn’t let Shouto fuck you on his dad’s bed! That would be so disrespectful! Blatant and honest disrespect! Even if Shouto was in a “fuck his dad” mood, you couldn’t let this happen.
Turning to face your boyfriend, the release of him on your body, allowing you to think logically, you were ready to stay firm in your decision.
“What are you doing?” Shouto asks as he walks to the bed, placing the black box onto the bed with a quirked eyebrow. “Get on the bed.”
“N-No,” you wheeze out. Wow, go confident you! “We can’t fuck on Endeavors bed! T-That’s going too far! I… I can’t do that!”
Shouto blinked slowly, once, twice, and then returned his attention back to the case as he released the clasps.
“Don’t worry about it,” Shouto says as he lays out a few things from the box, and a nervous shiver goes down your spine as you see what he brought.
A collar, leash, vibrator wand, ball gag, a spreader bar with bondage cuffs, so much lube, and a fucking machine.
Your jaw drops as he lays them out neatly, his eyes turning back towards you, and there’s a silent moment where the two of you simply stare at each other.
“That’s going too far,” you squeak as you pull at the hem of your dress, the nerves hit you as he shifts to look at you directly. “I can’t… if Endeavor found out, he’s going to kill us!”
“Endeavor isn’t going to find out,” Shouto’s upper lip curled into a snarl as his eyes flashed dangerously. “We’ll wash the sheets, whatever the hell makes you convinced he won’t find out. But right now? I fucking need you the way I was planning on having you.”
His words fall almost alluringly in your ears, and goosebumps flash across your skin; butterflies fly in your stomach as you moan at the thought of what his intentions were for tonight. You chewed nervously on your bottom lip as you thought it over, trying to figure out what exactly you needed to do because there was no getting out of this. You were beyond horny now, but it didn’t take much to see the danger in doing this.
But no, you couldn’t do this!
“Shouto, let’s — oh my god!”
Shouto, while you were lost in your thoughts, had begun to strip off his shirt. His toned and scarred torso ridiculously defined in the lighting of the room, and he stared at you dead-on as he ran a hand through his falling locks. Your breathing turns into a frenzy as he walks over to you, his hands slipping into the pockets of his slacks until he’s centimeters before you.
Your eyes struggle not to scour your boyfriend’s body like some hormonal fangirl, you recited the Pro Hero Guidebook in your head as you fought off the urge to just jump him. Were pheromones a thing for humans? If they were, he was definitely putting you under some spell that was making you succumb to his own lusts.
“I know what I want,” he whispers as his lips brush against your sore neck, and a voluptuous moan resounds loudly from you. Your breasts rise and fall quickly as your hands press against his warm skin, and your eyes flutter closed as his lips press heavier against your skin. “I know what I need. I need you more than life itself, and I only want you, y/n.”
Not daring to open your eyes in fear of having this gone too soon, you feel yourself nodding.
“Fuck me right then…”
A chuckle deep in his throat reverberated against you, and then you felt his lips back on you.
Hot, fast, dangerous.
You struggled to keep up as Shouto tossed you up, and your legs automatically went to wrap around his waist.
Hunger, desire, need.
That was the way Shouto kissed you right now, his lips downright eager, yet it wasn’t the right word to use. You could feel his hard-on pressing against your ass as you drew him in closer. Hands pressed against his neck, clawing at the bare skin as you wanted more from him — you craved more from him.
It was when you pressed your chest into him that caused a small yelp of protest to escape your lips. In your impassioned drunkness, Shouto had been holding your ass firmly in his grip. His fingers digging into your soft flesh under the hem of your dress until he seemed to be sick of it.
The sound of ripping fabric echoed in your ears as you pulled away from Shouto’s luring mouth. The dress fell loose around your body as you watched as he pulled the remains of your dress from between the two of you. You slammed your hands against his chest in protest as Shouto took the destroyed material and tossed it onto the floor.
“It was in the way,” Shouto chuckles as he ignores your protests as he brings you back in for another kiss. “I’ll buy you a new one, I’m the one who bought it after all.”
Your eyes twitch as his fingers trace the lingerie that remained secured on your body; the anger you had vanished quickly the moment he brushed his thumb over your clothed nipple. Yes, there were apparent problems with knowing everything about your partner’s body, as in times like this, your anger flew out the window as his thumb and forefinger pinched your nipple.
You reacted with a shrill mewl as your hips automatically ground against his, and your head slammed against his shoulder. You felt his cold fingers press the bra down, and your mind nearly went blank as his calloused fingers made contact with your sensitive nipples.
“S-Shouto,” you stammer as you feel your neck blushing as his teeth nip at your earlobe, tingling pleasure scorching your body as he does it a few more times. Low and sultry moans escape your mouth as the heightening bliss of this interaction was getting to you.
“Fuck,” Shouto chuckled as he began moving towards the bed, and you tremble as the friction between your crotches increase. The pressure of his clothed cock sends your mind spinning against your barely covered core. “You’re so gorgeous, love.”
Panting in agreement, your hips bucked weakly against his as the pleasure of him biting your earlobe, his fingers pinching, pulling, and rolling your nipple, and the way his hips met your grinding hips.
Low and pounding heat grew in your stomach, and you whimpered as his hand groped your breast.
But then it was gone, and your body was tossed against a soft bed.
The coolness and freshness of the sheets once more sent a memory of whose bed this was. And the consequences for your actions.
“Shouto!” You squeaked as Shouto climbed onto the bed, his hands holding the lube as his eyes glanced at you.
Lust, amazement, love, and confusion.
“What is it?”
“This is Endeavors bed,” you find yourself repeating, although you were past the point of caring. It just came back up like word vomit.
“Fuck what he says,” Shouto snaps as he drops the lube. His eyebrows were scrunched together in his annoyance and anger, and you could see the muscles flaring in his jaw. There’s a cold laugh that leaves Shouto’s mouth as he grabs the spreader, and you feel your heart stop. “I don’t like it when you’re saying other trash names when I’m about to fuck you, princess.”
Your eyes widen as Shouto is by your feet with the spreader, his head down, and his hair falling to cover his dark eyes.
“I think you need to prove to me that you deserve to let me fuck you.”
Before you could ask, before you could question his actions, Shouto tore your panties from your hips and held them in his fingers. His eyes widening as he sees the soaked thin fabric between his fingers.
You sat up straight, trying to grab for your panties, embarrassed by how wet you had been even though practically nothing had happened. But Shouto was faster and far stronger. With a heavy hand, he shoved your shoulder back, and you fell back onto the mattress, and as you collected yourself, something tight wrapped around your ankles.
“SHOUTO!”
On your ankles sat the spreader bar, the black steel shining dangerously at you as you stared up at your boyfriend, who placed your panties into his slack pockets.
“You’ll get those back if you behave,” Shouto hums as he sat down. “Now, if you want my cock, you better make yourself cum.”
“I’m not masturbating,” you snap embarrassed as you felt exposed. Your legs were wide open, your slick essence already coating your inner thighs and the smell of your sex filling your nose as you tried in repetitive failure to close your legs.
“Fine,” Shouto says coolly as he stands up from the bed. “Have fun letting Endeavor see you like this. Cunt wet and exposed like a filthy fucking whore.”
You’re stunned into silence as you watch as he walks towards the door, his eyes unamused yet challenging as he places a hand on the knob.
“But you would like that, huh? You’d let other men fuck what’s mine? Is this what you wanted all along?”
Shouto lets out a dry laugh as he dares you to not do anything, but the pure stupidity behind his words makes you angry. It boils in your stomach as you lay down, your eye contact not breaking as you pull down the other bra cup. Then your fingers trail from your collarbone down to your breasts, teasing your pert nipples.
Electrifying pleasure rolls through you as you play with your breasts. Each tug, pull and turn making your knees slam together in an attempt to get friction to your cunt.
“Come on,” Shouto smirks as he rests at the foot of the bed. His arms are crossed against his chest, and he’s drinking you in. “Put your fingers where you want me.”
“I’m not putting my fingers up my ass,” you grin, your bottom lip captured between your teeth as another building pleasure slams through your body.
Shouto doesn’t say anything, his eyes only getting darker as you bring your fleshy mounds to your mouth and take a playful bite.
Eyes were powerful, and Shouto had some of the most intense eyes you’d ever known. So the way he gorged your figure as your hand flattened against your skin while trailing down your navel to where you were desperate for attention set your skin on fire.
Your legs trembled as the nail of your middle finger teased the middle of your lower lips, and you felt like you were choking at the way he zeroed in on your teasing fingers.
“Give me a show.”
Groaning at the way his words clung to you, your fingers pressed against your throbbing clit as your eye contact was broken by your head tossing back. You were so turned on that this gentle pressure felt overwhelming as you cried his name.
Your other hand dropping your breast and pressed against your inner thigh, your other fingers moving from your clit to your cunt.
In went one finger, the initial tightness making you sigh as you pumped your finger with no intent in mind. Then went in another finger and another. Your inner walls clenching around your intruding fingers, making you gasp at the velvety warmth of it all. Eyes fluttering open, you move your wrist, and your fingers move fluidly within you.
“Doesn’t that feel good?” Shouto groans as he watches your movements like a hawk, his eyes burning themselves into your exposed cunt.
But it made you feel so good.
With a single heave, your pumping fingers increased in their speed and intensity. Growing so much, your walls squeezed against your moving fingers. Your fingers pounded into your wet core, the sounds of the entering and exiting appendages, making you whine as your free hand pressed against your clit. Your hips bucked up against your moving fingers in an attempt to further increase this intense desire.
Your fingers continued to dance against your needy clit as you shook.
Hot fire slammed to your toes as they curled in your overwhelming pleasure. Your eyes clenching closed as you rubbed hard and fast circles into your desperate clit. Your back arching off the bed multiple times, almost ending with you falling onto your side due to the imbalance caused by the restraint bar.
Faster and hard, faster, and harder.
The squelching of your soaked pussy and pistoning fingers were heavy in your ear as you shrieked. Your legs were spasming, kicking, and your hips thrusting as your end was nearing fast. Shouto’s name continued to be cried from your mouth as you curled your fingers in you, and your fingers pinched your clit, and then an idea slams through you.
Use Endeavor’s name.
And as your orgasm crashed through you, a pitched scream sounded in the room as it all clashed within you.
His name was used.
Your body trembling as you lay on the bed, your fingers still knuckle deep within you as you pant. Your slick essence coats your hands as you manage to sit up, out of breath, and staring at Shouto in a challenging way as you removed your fingers from within you.
There’s a scoff, a sound almost similar to a snarl, and you watch as Shouto shakes his head.
“Aren’t you being a fucking slut.”
Blinking slowly, you heard his pants hit the ground when the belt clacked against the wooden floors. Then you saw that he was by your legs, his cock erect and pressing onto his stomach, the head already beading. Pre-cum dripped from his tip, and you feel victorious at the way he was so turned on.
But it seemed that the dress wasn’t the only thing being destroyed today.
His left hand held onto the fabric of your bra, and you watched in heated horror as he reduced the lingerie to ash.
“Shouto?! What the fu— mmph?!”
Shouto shoved your cum slick fingers in your mouth, and you mewled at the taste of your sweet essence on your fingers.
“Suck it all off,” he practically hissed as he moved your wrists, emulating a blowjob as you groaned against your fingers. “You don’t deserve to be fucked like a princess, do you?”
Your protests against your fingers were ignored as he pressed you against the bed, and you choked as your fingernail stabbed the back of your throat. But it didn’t matter to Shouto, no, not at all.
“If you want to be saying Endeavor’s — fucking scum’s name in bed, I’ll treat you no better than a fucking whore.”
There was a moment of silence as he watched you gag against your own fingers, his weight keeping you locked onto the mattress. But then it was over, and his hand grabbed the bar between your ankles, and he yanked it up.
Your teeth lock around your fingers in your surprise, but he lets go of your wrist, your eyes lock on his as your knees rest beside your chest, and you blink in confusion as he glares down at you.
“Hold it,” he commands as your hands move to hold the bar. It’s cold against your fingers, and the areas that are coated with your saliva make the bar slippery and wet.
“W-Why?” You hoarsely ask, your throat thick from the continuous stabbing of your finger. Typically when the bar was used, Shouto always held it.
“I told you you were going to be fucked like a whore, right? That makes you easy. I don’t need to work hard for someone who does this daily. But that means you should be good at this, so see that clock? In ten minutes, if you cum more than three times, you’ll get punished.”
Your mouth opens to respond to him, but Shouto presses his hands against the bottom of your thighs and, with accurate precision, thrusts wholly into you.
Your grip on the bar almost weakens entirely as his cock fills you completely, your words of protest become gasping pleas as the tip of his cock presses against your cervix, and you feel dizzy, your fluttering walls adjusting. His cock was thick, and it was lengthy; your inner walls ached against him as you adjusted, but regardless of how tight it felt, you could sense your essence spilling from you as Shouto sighed.
He shifted, and in a matter of seconds, you watched as his hips snapped backward before thrusting back into you.
The stretch of your legs makes you feel as if you weren’t breathing correctly. Each breath was short and raspy as you clung to the metal bar as Shouto repetitively slams his cock into your cunt.
“Shit, such a pretty cunt you have,” he rasps as your walls spam against him with his wild thrusts. He moves his hands further up your legs so that they press against your knees, pushing you into the mattress, increasing the angle of which he drills down into you.
Pathetically, your hips attempt to rise up in meet him, to increase this brutal force he was using as you crave even more. It was too much.
The sounds of his cock slamming into your sopping pussy created loud wet noises that you cried in embarrassment, but Shouto found it as an excuse to speed up. His rugged grunts are music to your ears as his cock hits your walls every time. The stretch he gives you was boggling, and you were progressively less cognitive aware as he drilled in harder. His slams were so hard that the sound of his thighs hitting your ass let out a continuous and loud slap.
His fingers gorge into your skin, and you cry his name like a hopeful prayer as he is fueled by your appraisal.
Your hands are weak against the bar, and it feels as if it’s slipping the moment he releases his right hand from your leg. You cry as the angle of penetration lessens, but his ramming continues at the same pace, and his fingers land on a puffy and sensitive bundle of nerves. The simple action set you enflame as you wailed his name, and Shouto bit your inner calf as his finger cooled dramatically against your clit.
The difference between your body that felt like it was on fire and the bitter ice of his fingers made your body spasm uncontrollably. The bar was being pulled in by your forearms as exploding pleasure slams through every vein in your body. But your thrashing and wailing do not stop Shouto, nor do they lessen the pace and the force he’s settled in as the bed begins to sway with every powerful thrust.
“I needa— holy shit, r-right there!”
“What? Do you need to come already?” Shouto mocks against your calve, and you whimper as he bites it again.
Your eyes can no longer stay open as the only noises leaving your mouth are whines and begs for more. You forcibly clench around him in an attempt to stir a reaction from him, but all he does is curse loudly as he continues his rutting force. The pounding is rhythmic. The feeling of Shouto’s cock entering and leaving you draws your eyes to the back of your head as you whimper his name, his thighs hitting your ass at bruising force, only adding to your pleasure. His finger getting colder by the second as it simmers against your burning clit. Your heart hammering in your ears as you heard Shouto snap at you.
“Cum.”
The orgasm that had been surging within you crashed through you in a fiery white heat as your jaw slacks in a silent scream. Your body convulses against your hold and his, but Shouto doesn’t stop, not even when your toes curl, not even when you sob.
“Shouto!”
He pulled out then, his pants heavy in your ear, and something ripped through you as the weirdest sensation floods through you. Your cunt throbs uncharacteristically harder as you softly sob Shouto’s name.
You had squirted.
It was all over the comforter; there was even some on Shouto’s lower abs that shone in a mixture of sweat and you.
Your head slams back into the mattress as you can feel your heartbeat in your cunt, your chest heaving at the experience you just had. You’ve never squirted before, and your body felt like it was short-circuiting as you remained on your back.
“Look at that,” Shouto mused as he unfastened the restraints on your ankles, and your thighs crashed together, an inevitable soreness throbbing within as you lay speechless. That had winded you. “For someone not wanting to make a scene on his bed, you just wet a whole portion to it. I don’t think you even care if he finds out I fucked you on his bed, y/n. A little whore like you, you probably want the entire neighborhood to know.”
“I don’t,” you gasp as you struggle to find your breath still, and Shouto hums as he turns you over onto your stomach.
You’re not sure if it was a forcible push or something gentle. All you know is that your body burned where he touched you, and your thighs ached as you settled on your stomach.
“How the fuck am I supposed to fuck you like that?” Shouto snaps at you, and your eyes widen as you shift your head to look at Shouto’s whose cock is still erect, and you realize in a dawning horror that you had come twice now, and he had not.
Then there was the challenge, he only had to make you come three more times to do whatever insidious things he had planned. Your fingers fisted in the sheets as you groaned loudly. His body heat radiated onto you, and you rub your thighs together at the thought of Shouto gripping your ass as he drilled into you from behind.
You needed to get him to do that, but to make sure you didn’t come.
“I don’t want to,” you stall, hoping that in moments like these, it would help in your favor.
“Let go of the sheets,” Shouto ignores you as he gives a pointed look at your hands that clutched the sheets.
“Nope.”
The heat he provided was suddenly gone, and your eyes widened as a closet door creaks open. You watch as Shouto stands by a closet, a hand on his hip as he studies the closet before him, and you let out a strangled noise as you can already taste what he’s getting out.
“Shouto, do not!”
“Don’t what?” Shouto asks as he pulls out four brightly colored ties that Endeavor owned. “They’ll get cleaned up and put away, I mean look at the mess you already made, this shouldn’t concern you.”
Your cheeks burn in embarrassment as you look at the stained sheets below you, and you sit on your knees as you cross your arms.
“Using Endeavors clothes as bondage is going too far!”
Shouto looked at you, his eyes annoyed, angry, and uncaring, then he shrugs. He takes a few strides, and he’s back on the bed.
“He should have thought of that before being a dick.”
There was no time to react as Shouto grabbed your wrists in his hand and tugged you towards him. Before you could attempt to pull back, to resist ruining more of Endeavors’ personal belongings, the tie is properly looped around your arms, and you’re locked in place.
“Now on your hands and knees like a good slut,” Shouto directs running a hand through his sweaty locks while rising to his knees. The tie is almost uncomfortable with how tight it is, and you remain stagnant, staring at your boyfriend, who was insistently becoming more of a dom than you had ever seen him as. But with your lack of action, his expression sours, and he grasps your cheeks in his hand. “Are you fucking deaf?
You gasp loudly when Shouto’s hand brings your face to the mattress, your back curved, arms pressed into your breasts.
“I thought whores had better form than this,” Shouto sneers while pressing a heavy hand against the center of your spine. You adjusted immediately under his force, your back arching with your pert ass in the air. “Much better.”
The mattress pressed against your chest in a suffocating way, your heart hammering as you realized what was to come.
“Shouto, please,” your voice pleads again; his hands roam your ass and hips, whispering nasty sweet things to you while the tip of his cock presses against your still wet cunt. “Don’t make a mess of me, not on Endeavors bed.”
There was a moment of silence while his hands disappeared from your skin. Licking your lips, you turned your head to see what exactly his expression was. But you were too late.
He slammed his right hand against your ass cheek, causing you to shriek while your skin throbbed in his wake. The pain made your legs buckle, a hot pressure reigniting in your core, and another loud slap repeated on your opposite cheek.
Fisting in your hair, you yelped loudly when Shouto yanked your head back. The arch in your back was dramatized by this action; your back ached as another heavy slap echoed against your troubled skin. His dense, almost wild breathing hits the shell of your ear, and chills shoot down your spine when he snarls.
“Who the fuck matters to you right now?” He hisses in your ear. “Is it Endeavor fucking you on this bed right now? No—” his hand comes down against your ass with every word, ignoring your growing sobs— “I’m the one fucking you. The only man’s name you should be uttering is mine. Do. You. Understand?”
The next spank that comes across your ass nearly sends you tumbling over at the strength and power behind it. Your arms buckle under you, the weight and struggle to keep yourself upright was a challenge as Shouto abused your ass.
“Answer me, whore.”
There was no stopping Shouto’s heavy hand against your pert ass, and you could not think of anything but how your cunt throbbed for the man behind you. Your sobs of pain had long ago become those of pleasure, and you could feel the raised prints of his hands on your sore cheeks. It delighted you.
“Y-Yes, sir!” You pant, your body trembling in your excitement and need for more.
“You like this, don’t you,” he sneers while he rubs circles against your heated skin. “You’re trembling with excitement as you try telling me you don’t want me to fuck you here. Do you want me to leave you here? With no clothes, no way back home? Count the number of times I spank you, I want to hear you counting and thanking me every time.”
Slap.
“One. T-Thank you, sir.”
Your words were barely above a whisper, just enough for Shouto to hear you thank him as you trembled like a leaf before him. His upper lip pulled back into a sneer as he let go of your hair, throwing your head into the mattress, and his fingers go and pinch your nether lips, and you cried loudly.
“I know you can fucking scream louder than that, don’t make me ask again. From the top.”
The words were like honey to your ear, and you shifted in an attempt to ease the growing lust between your legs.
Slap.
“One! Thank you, s-sir!”
Your mind reeled as Shouto continued his conquest against your ass. You could barely remember the number you were on by the time he was done with you, the added sensation of his alternating heated and chilled hands increasing the desire in you to find you as you were now. Ass bright red and in the air, back arched further than you had ever gone, and saliva and tears seeping onto your bond arms.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he observes as two of his fingers slide against your wet slit, and your ragged moans fill the area at the need of more. He continued petting you, and while feeling finally returned to your abused ass, your hips began to buck against his wandering hands, trying to get them to slip between the folds. “Such a greedy little slut.”
His chuckle is barely heard by you, for as he said that, he pressed the head of his cock into your cunt. A sharp whine slams from your throat as the emptiness of this action makes you crave more. You shift your ass back, the action full of temporary regret as soring pain flashes through your lower body. He did not hold back.
Gritting your teeth, you continued pushing against him, craving more.
“Is this not good enough for you?” Shouto chuckles, but there’s no light humor to his laughter. “Good.”
At that phrase, Shouto slams into you at full force again, causing you to bite down hard against your saliva-coated and bound arms as you feel his cock twitch within you. Your breathing is harsh as you focus on the nightstand and see the clock. It’s felt like an eternity, but only three minutes had passed since the bet was made. If you won, you’d move this fuck feast into his bedroom.
“Seven minutes,” you choke against your skin, not wanting to show how turned on you were.
The instant you were done chiding him, you regretted telling Shouto the amount of time he had left. The bed shifted by your knees, and you could only imagine what was happening as you could feel his cock moving out of you and slamming back into you.
The angle and power behind these thrusts were different than what you were used to from the standard doggy style. With each hypnotizing slam of his hips, shrill moans of pleasures ripped from your throat, and you preened your head to look at Shouto.
Sure enough, Shouto was positioned on his feet, his knees bent as he dropped into your awaiting cunt with such savagery your eyes rolled back watching him. Sweat dripped down his neck, his hands gripping your bruised and battered ass like some type of life support, and the squelching noises of your slamming sex were making your body weak.
“That feels so — fuck — do that!”
“Who—” slap— “Are—” slap— “You—” slap— “Addressing?!” Slap!
“Y-You, sir!” You scream, your hips buck against his slamming hips. It was so raw, so rough, and you were enjoying every passing second.
Shouto chuckles at your praise, all while he continues to fuck you roughly. He was in a zone, his concentration like steel as he pounded into you again and again. Your inner walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating cock, and the heated pressure had built up all over again.
His cock twitched within you, it knocked the breath out of you; his fingers twisted into your hair.
“Fucking cum with me,” he demands, jerking your head back towards him again, and you sob as your legs tremble against his increasing power.
You feel your eyes cross, screaming out his name as your walls clamp down fiercely against his length. Shouto curses loudly, pulling out of you while your cum drips from your folds. But a hot and sticky substance hits the curve of your ass while Shouto lets out a string of curses, and you moan knowing that he came on you.
“That was two,” Shouto reminds you as you groan into the sheets.
“That was two,” you mock hoarsely, but you’re unable to move, your body locked in the way he had fucked you.
“Look,” Shouto says, ignoring your disrespect, for you can hear the prideful smirk on his tone as he forces you onto your side. “You made another mess.”
“You’re cleaning up Endeavors bed when we’re done,” you whimper, making no attempt to sit up, your body screaming in pain when you lay still.
“You really can’t seem to get his name out of your fucking mouth, can you?” Shouto barks while he moves to sit against the headboard. “What do I have to do to get you to fucking forget him? Choke you until you pass out? Break that pretty little mind and pussy of yours?”
There is no time to argue, Shouto grabs your legs and drags you over to him, your sensitive ass burning against the cum soaked comforter until you were at his side. Your pained breaths still as Shouto glares down at you, his left hand undoing the saliva-coated tie around your wrists, leaving the fabric slightly burnt while he tosses it to the side. Your arms throb as blood rushes back through it.
But before you could relish the feeling of your arms back, Shouto has his chest pressed against your back, and his right hand angling his once again hardening cock upwards.
“Since I mean nothing to you, make yourself cum.”
With that, he dropped your aching pussy onto his dick.
The feeling of his cock wholly sheathed within you, mercilessly slamming against the wall of your cervix and staying pressed tightly there. The delirious sensation made your head crash back against his shoulder, and your legs kicked out in response. Loud and low moans reverberated from your lips while adjusting to him buried within you again.
Your mind reeled while you adjusted, and Shouto angled his knees up, his scorching and robust grip moving your legs outside of his, causing your hips to spread against him.
“I told you to move,” he snaps, his fingers twisting your sensitive nipple harshly, your resulting wail muffled by you burying your face into his neck. “I didn’t pay for you to sit there.”
Puffs of air escaped your mouth quickly, and your feet shakily pressed into the mattress. You needed to move for him. But you were too slow, and a sharp and icy cold slap hit your clit.
Your body impulsively arched forward, your body rising up from his cock before you collapsed back down. But the sensation of his cock hitting your cervix made you shudder.
“Faster.”
So you began to rise and fall against his length, his hot breathing fanning against your sweat-soaked skin made your body shudder against his. His fingers found a place on your hips to hold, and you moaned at his bruising grip.
Your thighs burned with every bounce of your body, your head lolling to the side, stammering Shouto’s name as your walls clenched and squeezed against his hard cock. You wanted more of him. You needed more of him. Choked out screams rung from your throat as your hand gripped onto his knees, your body trying to support the numb ache that was shooting through your body.
“Shouto,” you puff, his fingers digging into your flesh, making you gasp.
“Why don’t you follow fucking instructions,” Shouto gnashes his teeth, and his left-hand moves from your hip to your clit. A jolt of massive arousal shoots through your body, a warm presence pressing into you as he teases your clit, causing you to roll your hips against his. But it grows hot, hotter, and hotter. It’s too hot, and his movements are painful yet disgustingly pleasurable. Pained and animalistic sobs pouring from your mouth while he deliberately abuses your throat. “What are you supposed to call me?!”
“S-Sir!” You weep, slamming your hips back down against his in pathetic attempt to lose his hold against your puffy nerve. “I’m supposed to c-call you, sir!!”
“Then why haven’t you been?!” Before you could attempt to respond, Shouto’s right-hand leaves your hip and slams to your throat, choking the response from you. “I don’t want to hear your answer.”
His hand remains heavy and tight around your throat, his hold barely allowing oxygen to travel through to your lungs. Your vision fuzzed, and you could feel your heartbeat in your head, but your core shook with Shouto’s now reciprocating and rhythmic slams.
Choking, clit stimulation, his cock pounding into your cervix, his fingers hotter than coal, and Shouto chuckled into your skin. His thrusting hips were becoming more precise, angling into you in a way that made you audibly choke when you needed to gasp. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen to your body that was making you delirious, or perhaps it was the fact that he was slamming into you with the strength of rearranging your guts, but your hips began to swivel at an inhumane pace. Your cunt held a vice grip around his cock, yet it did nothing to slow Shouto down, but the growing heated pit in your lower belly was making your legs tremble against his. Still, you tried to keep up with his rough and cruel pace, and Shouto enjoyed knowing that detail.
“Such a fucking tramp, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He sneers, his teeth biting down against the curve of your shoulder. “You enjoy being choked?”
Your head nods, “Y-Yes, sir!”
“Do you need to cum?” There was no reason for Shouto to ask that; the answer was obvious enough. “Good.”
If you thought Shouto was rough, as soon as that word rolled off his tongue, he only got worse.
His hand against your throat tightened, and black dots littered your vision; the coldness of his ice burned against your skin. His teeth sunk far into your skin, enough for you to feel your skin breaking as his tongue moving in cold and heated strokes to calm your now irritated skin. Then there were his nimble fingers running against your clit, and entering your cunt between your spastic walls and his hammering and throbbing cock. But your bouncing held no value anymore, Shouto’s hips snapped upwards fast enough and powerful enough to overcome and overwhelm you. The only thing you could tell was that along with the tip of his cock hitting your bruised walls, the sounds of your sopping wet pussy crashing against his forceful hips rang in your ears in a primal yet excited fashion.
Despite his hold on your neck, nothing was holding back the scream that left your mouth as you orgasmed.
White stars filled your vision as Shouto ripped his cock from you, and that same sensation of peeing bewildered you as he held your body up. You had squirted again, but your ragged and shallow breathing had only increased, and there was something warm and wet painted on your back.
“That was three,” Shouto whispers into your ear, his teeth tugging at your earlobe, and you shuddered. “I should get extra points for making you squirt.”
To that, all you could muster was an embarrassing moan as your dazed eyes focused on yet another wet stain on the bed. Three minutes left, that’s how much you had to endure to win.
Three more minutes.
Unfortunately for you, Shouto was well aware of this, so he wasted no time.
Once again, he shoved you to the side. Your body crumpling onto the mattress, aching and sharp pains flooding your body as you lay there. Your clit throbbed in time with your heartbeat, and your inner thighs were coated entirely with your cum — both new and old. Maybe your body would be incapable of cumming at this point now? You sure hoped so… or not.
“Up,” Shouto commanded but gave you no autonomy since he grabbed your hair by the roots and tugged you onto your knees. You whimper in your throat at the stabbing pain settling in your lower body, you were still recovering from him rearranging your guts. But you caught sight of the cum he had released onto your back pressed all over the covers, and your breathing stopped.
“Shou— ack!!”
A collar locked around your throat, and you wheezed loudly; you hadn’t managed to catch your breath still. Your body swayed forward into his hold as your head spun due to the lack of oxygen, but Shouto seized you his eyes wide and worried as he stared at you.
“Shit, baby, are you okay?”
You nodded your head, oxygen slowly spreading back into your body.
“Sorry,” you hoarse, pushing away, your face burning with embarrassment. “You just surprised me.”
Shouto seemed unconvinced as his hands held onto your cheeks, his fingers stroking your sweat plastered hair out of the way, tracing your bruised lips and against the marks and bites on your exposed skin. The delicate touches are long forgotten on your skin, your lips sighing while he sends warm pulses from his fingers to the aches of your joints.
“You sure?”
Rolling your eyes, you shoved Shouto away, “I’m fine! You just made me spread your cum on Endeavor’s bed!”
Just like that, your loving boyfriend died, and the man who had been fucking you this entire day was back. His hands locked back to where the collar was, and your eyes nearly boggled out of your sockets when he tightened it more until it burned to breathe. But you remained calmed as a black leash appeared from seemingly nowhere and attached to the collar.
“Since you liked being choked so much, I might as well give you what you want without straining me.”
Your eyes widened, your ability to talk back removed.
“Now, ride my cock again,” he grins with the slightest hint sadistic, and as you move to do as instructed, he yanks at the leash. Falling onto your hands, your eyes widen while you stare at Shouto, who merely raises a cocky brow at you. “You have two minutes to make yourself cum.”
“I’m not going to,” you strain, the choking of the collar and the simple manipulation of your body already making that all too familiar heat spread upon your loins.
“You don’t have a choice,” Shouto mocks, his hand moving to grasp the leash centimeters from the collar and yanks your face close to his. But the movement is sharp and rough, the collar strangling you. You scramble on your hands and knees to get closer, stopping when his lips ghost over yours. “And you won’t have one until you’re begging me to fuck you into a puddle, not until you’re nothing more than my cum slut, and until you no longer care about dirtying Endeavors bed.”
The words are fire on your skin, and bubbling lust grows in you again.
There’s nothing to say except give a doe-eyed nod, but Shouto appreciates this submission as his lips take yours. They’re hungry, possessive, and ardent, moving against your mouth with fervent intention. Your mind slips when you straddle him, your soaked core brushing against his tip, and Shouto guides you back down onto his cock.
Your abused pussy had been through a lot, and a loud hiss passes through your teeth as you sunk all the way on him. Your teeth biting onto Shouto’s lip to control the pain-filled pleasure that corroded your body at the moment. It still felt so crazed, the sensation of your heartbeat in your inner walls shifting and hugging Shouto’s still throbbing head,
But the slowness is gone when Shouto pulls away. His hands on the leash as he yanks the cord up and back down.
“Follow my actions, “ Shouto warns, and you weakly nod.
His hand moves the leash back and forward, and the soreness of your cunt bleeds into your actions as you imitate him. Your rolling hips are slow, your hands pressing against his shoulders as you roll your hips against him. There’s a dark mutter from Shouto’s mouth when you lock eyes with him, and his nostrils flare. His hand suddenly grabs onto your waist, making you freeze in your decent back down onto his cock, but he beats you too it, for his cock rams into your dripping cunt. A shriek ripping from your throat as he pounds into you. Your fingers digging into his shoulders to hold onto for support.
“SHOUTO!” You shriek as he ruthlessly slams into you. His hips coming up so fast your body bounces with every thrust. Your moans tumble out in chokes, your face turning red as oxygen fails to fill your lungs. The thrusting is intense, and your hands on his shoulder are more of a lifeline; the bed is quick to move with your movements, the considerable bed groaning under the harsh actions. Its squeaks and tremors are loud in your ear alongside his insistent pounding.
“What’s that, whore?” He growls, his hips hammering into you at mind fogging speed. The leash on the collar being yanked to pull you closer; your bare and sweat-slick skin pressed against his. “What’s my fucking name?!”
“Sir!” you shriek as your pussy throbs around his pounding cock. You’re unable to even twirl your hips in rhythm with him. You were stuck to the lap, only able to feel his cock entering you at toe-curling speeds. “Oh my god, FUCK, please— I —shit!”
Words failed you miserably as Shouto’s hot and sweet tongue drags against your collarbone, his teeth burying into your primed skin as your eyes roll back.
Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm. One more minute.
“You take my cock so well,” Shouto grunts as he releases one hand from your waist and runs it down your navel to press against your clit. Your head throws back, your back arching further into his chest as you scream again. Your pussy clenching with no remorse around his cock. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. Do you want to come now, slut?”
You can only shake your head, you didn’t want to cum; the pressure continues to build and build.
“I need to hear your words.”
“I don’t need to cum,” you sob out as your body trembles under his thrusting, you’re so close you see stars. “I don’t need to — sir, please, I can — oH SHIT!!!”
Shouto growls as his hand wraps around the leash, wrapping it around your bruised neck as he tightens the chokehold on you. You’re being strangled, and the air feels like its burning as it goes down your tightened passage, but your cunt throbs in excitement when he presses his mouth to your ear, “I don’t give a shit if you don’t need to cum, you’ll do it regardless.” Your mouth dropped open, your eyes crossing, and a loud whine emitted from you when his hand moved to pinch your nipple, and his mouth found a place on your sensitive nipple.
That’s all it takes, and you come hard around his dick, his name ripping through your abused body as he groans. His tongue lashes against your nipple, his teeth tugging at the pebbled skin all while he continues pummeling into you. Chasing after his own orgasm now.
You pant harshly, moving your hips against his own. Your pussy still twitching around his throbbing dick. You hear him expel a wavering sigh, and you can feel him come within you. The heated fluid fills you up, and he lets go of your sore breast; he collapses onto the bed with you landing on his chest.
“You lost,” he whispers after a moment of silence. Your breath picked up in a panic, you were fucked. “On your knees.”
You groan loudly when Shouto sits up, lifting you up with him, and you can feel the intermingled cum dripping out of you, falling onto your thighs. Your eyes flutter when Shouto kneels before you, his face victorious and poised as he undoes the collar against your throat. Although you took a full breath of air with every, inhale, your breathing is finicky as you’re terrified of what’s to come. You’re silent while watching Shouto make his way make to the no longer neat line of sex toys.
He grabs two things: the vibrator, spreader bar, and four of Endeavors’ ties.
Shouto rises to his feet as he walks back towards you, and while you hated doing this on Endeavors — now filthy — bed, your mouth opened.
“Close your mouth, whore,” Shouto chides, his arms above his head tying the colored fabric to the fan blades above the bed.
“What are you—?!”
“You care too much about making a mess for some selfish pig,” Shouto shrugs, he falls into a squat after securing the ties to the fan. There’s a dark and almost amused glint in his eyes when he stares at you. “Now, I’ll give you a reason to worry.”
Before you could protest, pull away, or scramble from the center of the bed, Shouto grabs your right hand and secures the tie around it.
“Shouto!” You panic when he succeeds in capturing both your wrists. Breathing sharply, you looked up at the flimsy blades that curved under the weight of your arms. If you moved to harshly, if you struggled against this punishment or collapsed too early, it would break. Oh, no… snapping your head behind you to where your boyfriend was relocking your ankles into the spreader bar. “Please, baby, I can’t do this!”
Shouto ignores you, and cold sweat runs through you at what’s to come, you wouldn’t be able to resist bringing your elbows down if the vibrator was pressed into your clit. How were you supposed to not wholly destroy Endeavors’ property?!
“S-Sir, think this through!” You begin to word vomit in your desperation while Shouto presses the vibrator against your right thigh, the smooth head holds against your clit, and he uses two more ties to secure it into place. “The bed is already a-a mess, I squirted! Twice! You came two times on the bed! Not to mention my saliva and the cum that’s dripping out of me! I can’t — we can’t break his fan!”
Shouto is unconcerned, his tongue tracing his teeth while mocking concern, “Then I guess you’ll have to work extra hard not to ruin more things in his room. Considering you care about that shit still.”
Your mouth opened to argue again, your body feeling like you needed to fight this because there was no way you were going to be able to last with your arms above your head, legs unable to come together, and a vibrator pulsating into your cunt. But as soon as you made your initial noise, Shouto turned on the vibrator to low.
The low buzz of the vibrator filled the room, and your mouth dropped in a silent scream. Your body was half numb already, having cum multiple times within the past hour was causing your body to convulse on occasion, but now with the vibrations being sent straight to your core, you felt on edge once again.
Trying to control your visible reaction, your hands gripped onto the cloth ties, your arms quivering as you try to keep from pulling down, and your hips thrusting subconsciously to the vibrations.
“S-Sir!” You sob as the slow and steady build in your belly was already growing. Your eyes locked on Shouto, who was a length away, his eyes gleaming in sadistic joy as his hand ran up and down his once again hardening cock. “P-Please, tie me to the bed! Not to Endeavor’s fan.”
The glint disappeared.
“You just won’t let me enjoy my fucking victory, will you?!”
You sucked in a harsh breath when you shifted your hips, the head of the vibrator brushing deliciously against your softly throbbing clit. You thrilled at the feeling of the vibrations on your clit, and your toes curled as your head fell forward. You needed to keep vigilante, you had to continue complaining so that Shouto would cave.
But you had completely forgotten about the ball gag.
“Open up.” Your head shakes no when Shouto holds the ball gag against your lips, there’s a warning noise. A dark growl emitted from his throat, and you feel your heart rate spike when his other hand roughly pinched in your cheeks. Your mouth opens against your will, and you splutter when his fingers shove into your mouth. You try to bite down on his fingers, but Shouto’s fingers turn ice cold making your mouth widen further, so then the gag was placed behind your teeth pressing into your tongue. You feel him lean against you, his lips by your ear as he whispers, “I don’t fucking remember asking.”
His hand lowers, and he amps up the vibration of the vibrator, and your body stiffens under the powerful waves. Being gagged was the worst, first drool always seeped past your lips with this particular gag on, and the uncomfortable pressure on your tongue sent your gag reflex flaring. Staring up at the ceiling, your noises were muffled at the source, staggering pleasure shooting through your veins as the medium vibrations made your long-abused cunt weep.
Your slick coated the head of the vibrator, and soaked you inner thighs, soaking the tie where it held contact with your skin. Your body spasmed as you sobbed in pleasure, your mind reeling and short-circuiting when your head dropped.
Focusing onto Shouto, your legs nearly gave out at the sight of your sweating and smirking boyfriend, his ears tinged with blush, and his fist stroking his huge cock. You wanted to have him slamming into you with the vibrator pressed into your clit, not this.
“Aren’t you having fun,” he pronounces slowly, his eyes — still dark with excitement and lust — dropped to your soaked thighs. “You look fucking delicious right now, princess.”
You clenched your core, the feeling of the vibrator only intensified, and you gagged when you tried to cry out. The feeling of your saliva pooling from your lips mortified you, your body twitching as Shouto only laughs again.
“I think we should go higher,” Shouto groans, his eyes momentarily closing as you assume a particularly gratifying shiver crawls down his spine. The muffled sounds of your disapproval only make his smirk more sinister when he abandons his own length and moves closer to you. Your eyes are wide, body attempting to shift away from him, but there was nowhere to go.
Air passed through your nose are heavy and sharp breaths, your chest hammering, and your puffy nerves throbbing while the vibrator continued powering into you.
“You’re so messy,” he drawls on his knees before you, his fingers touching the saliva coating your chin, and you sob in anticipation of what’s to come. He trails his fingers down your throat, the slickness of your saliva cold against your raw and bruised neck. “Maybe you don’t really care about fucking up scums bed, do you?”
You make a disapproving noise, your will holding on to a thread, and you vigorously shake your head. Shouto hums, his upper lip curling before his hand flattened and smacked your breast right on your nipple.
There was a loud crack when your arms pulled down, and you shrieked, your eyes trying to choose between focusing on Shouto and the fan blade you very much could have just broken. You whimper, your body twisting in an attempt to show submission, but Shouto isn’t done.
With an icy cold hand, he hits your aching and hot breast again and again and again. Your pained and pleasured wails muffled while you choke against the ball, and saliva pours from your mouth, your body trembling with excitement.
“Shut up,” he hisses, bringing his other hand to your face and striking you.
Your head slams to the side, the throbbing of your cunt intensifies with the burning of his handprint. Why did you like being slapped?! Saliva dribbles from your lips when you straighten back up. A now unignorable ache fills your arms from being in this tiresome position for a while now.
Everything felt like it was burning, sensations, and wantonness flooding your senses galore.  
“I forget you like this,” Shouto groans as his hands grope your breast. Pulling, kneading, gripping and pinching the soft and moldable flesh in his hands, Shouto grins at your whimpers and the soft groans of the fan above the two of you. “Break the fan, I dare you.”
Your eyes slam shut at those words, and they remained closed as his hot and cold hands trail down your torso, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your lips twitch, the involuntary action to bite down on your lip prohibited by the gag. He must have seen considering the teasing pinch to your ass.
It was then that you froze. He was flushed against you, and the feeling of his cock pressing into the bottom of your sternum. Shouto’s right hand snaked behind you, those fingers playing with your dripping sex, and his left hand skimmed down your right inner thigh, resting onto the switch that changed the vibrational power.
“Don’t worry, princess,” he speaks in a low tone, an arrogant tone to his voice, “I’ll make you cum again.”
There was no time to contemplate his actions, for the vibrator was turned onto the highest setting and pressed into your clit, and his fingers sunk into your sopping wet cunt.
Even with the ball gag, the shriek of being overstimulated was as loud. It was as if you didn’t have the gag on at all. Your arms lurched forward against your will, the fan creaking loudly as you fell onto Shouto. You trembled more than a leaf in a storm, his fingers pumping deliciously and savagely into you, leaving behind the squelching noise of your wet core. The buzzing of the vibrator clear and steady and his cock twitched between the two of your bodies.
Sobbing and drooling moans escaped the gag, and Shouto relished in his ability to manipulate your body like this. His teeth leaving nipping kisses against the broken skin he left minutes before.
But the feeling of his teeth against your aggravated skin, the sensation of the powerful vibrations against your clit, and how he was still so responsive to you was nothing against his pistoning fingers dragged against that particular spot in your walls. His fingers scraped and slammed against your g-spot, and you felt your vision give way as a powerful force crashed through you.
You had squirted again, only that it seemed to last forever this time. Your lower body throbbing in its wake.
Your head collapsed against his shoulder, and when your vision came back, it was hazy and swam in your eyes. Whether Shouto had noticed or not, he still was slamming his fingers within your cunt with such intensity that — alongside the still buzzing vibrator — pressure built again within you. Heat seeped through you, and tears fell from your eyes when you came again.
Everything felt lethargic when Shouto removed his knuckle deep fingers from your sopping cunt, his tongue lapping away any of your essence remaining on his fingers. With a long pause, he finally turned off the vibrator.
Your breathing was shallow, your head spinning while he removed the bondage from your wrists and ankles. Collapsing onto your face, you felt your slick running thick on your thighs, mixing with the sweat that soaked your skin too.
Good god, were you exhausted.
“You broke the fan,” Shouto murmured.
Shrieking against the gag, adrenaline shot through your veins as you looked up. The fan blade had visible cracks in it, and your jaw dropped further.
Oh, fuck!
“Still haven’t learned,” he sighs, shaking his head. “That’s okay, you’ve always been a stubborn bitch.”
You whimper in agreement, your leg shifting so that you could feel the wet puddle you had made this time around. However, there was no time to relax.
Shouto grabbed you by your armpits and dragged you to the edge of the bed. Choking, you stared at him startled. There was no use in asking what was happening; Shouto bent your knees and wrapped two ties around each leg. One holding your ankle and upper thigh together, and the other one near your knee.
“Good,” Shouto approved, walking back to the side of the bed where the toys lay. Though soreness struck your body, you rose to your elbows and watched Shouto grab the fuck machine before returning to the bedside. “Because you squirted.” He says with a coy smile, lining the dildo to your exposed pussy and thrusting it in.
Your body slammed back down against the bed at the slickness of the dildo. You were so used to Shouto’s cock that the dildo was foreign as it buried within you.
“Now,” he sighs as he turns on the machine. Immediately the fuck machine blows into your tight and slippery cunt, your eyes rolling backward at the mere sensation of the speed it was at, and a loud mewl leaves your throat. His fingers snuck behind your head, unfastening the gag, and is removed with a saliva string, and a sob croaked through your voice as your mouth was finally free. “Suck my dick.”
With your head past the edge of the mattress, and the height lining you near perfectly to Shouto’s cock, he slides his cock into your sore throat. But ever so eager, Shouto wastes no time starting his conquest.
You try to keep up with the momentum of the toy and his viciously thrusting hips, your hips snapping against the toy despite its insane speed. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, and you choke against his cock. Shouto chuckles, his hands kneading your breasts, his moans tight and low, it had been a while since the last time he came.
“Look at you, so desperate,” Shouto chuckles, his fingers tweaking your hard nipples. “So fucking needy.”
The words ignite a fire within you, and your legs tremble in unspoken glee. You wanted him to fuck you until you were nothing less than a mess. You needed him to give you his cock instead of this stupid fucking machine — wait…
Your eyes widened when you realized the extent to your thoughts.
Fuck Endeavor, you thought, a shiver rolling down your spine. Your boyfriend was giving you the best dick down of your life, and you were too preoccupied with foolish worry! Shouto promised he was going to be cleaned up. You wanted Shouto, you needed him. Maybe you were whipped.
Your arms shot out, gripping the back of Shouto’s thighs as you willed him closer. Your jaw widening; you let hot breaths of air expelled from your mouth. You could feel Shouto peering down on you, but rolling your hips against the machine that was making your stomach bulge with every slam of its rod, your tongue lashed against his swollen head. Shouto’s thighs clench when your mouth sucks against the head of his cock, your tongue pressing flat against the tip.
“Did someone finally fucking wake up?” Shouto grunts, his hips moving with more unrestraint into your mouth.
Making a pleasant sound, you hollowed your cheeks out and tasted the saltiness of his pre-cum. Delighting at the harsh curse, you guided him further in.
One of his hands is soon braced on the fuck machine between your legs, but the other is tangled in your hair, pulling it and twisting it as he wishes. He’s pulling hard enough to hurt, enough so that you can choke against him, the angle and the position on your back already increasing the likeliness of that happening.
Shouto’s grip on your hair tightens, and he realizes that you’re keeping up impeccably. His dance between aggression and concupiscence is too much for you to keep up with. You don’t have time to tease his length with your tongue; he steers his cock further down your throat. You don’t bother to hide how satisfied you are by his action as you relax your throat and hollow your cheeks against the length of his snapping cock.
“Fuck,” he hisses, his hips bucking forward, he can’t stop himself from demanding more. You don’t mind; you open wider to take more of him in, and his cock thrusts further down your throat. He’s now panting, in his desperation, judging from the strangled sound he makes as you take him even deeper. “You take my cock so good, princess.”
He was doing this for you, despite everything that could happen to him after this night was done. Shouto loved you enough to tarnish his dad’s room with you. The thought makes you moan, and you wiggling trying to take him deep enough now that he must be able to feel the vibrations from your throat because that makes him hiss out another curse. He’s shaking with the effort of slamming his cock down your throat and holding the machine.
The raw, primal, and wet noises of his cock entering and leaving your throat are maniacal, added onto that is the dildo penetrating your sopping cunt again. The pressure is back, and it’s settled deep in your lower belly, and you want to cum more.
He’s underestimating you, however; you could take him in all power and length he could muster. You know that as you begin bobbing your head despite the backwardness of your position. Digging your fingernails into his ass, you silently letting him know that you’re okay, and he understands.
Shouto grunts, bending his knees as he begins to face fuck you with no remorse. It’s savage, uncontrolled, and brutal. Your choking noises music to both your ears; he doesn’t let up, only snapping his hips faster, harder, rougher. Your eyes begin to roll backward at the force, his balls slapping you in the face with every slam of energy.
But you like — you lust — the sensation of the raw and primitive fucking he was giving you, and you felt your hips rising off the bed when your walls begin to clamp against the insanely moving dildo. Yet, when you shifted higher, his hands slammed down against your hips, keeping you down, and you cry around his cock.
“Take my fucking cock like the slut you are,” he snarls, taking giant thrusts until his cock is completely buried in your throat, your nose pressed into his balls. Your tongue still revolves around the veins in his cock while you grip his ass. You choke against him, the noise music to his ears, while your legs spasm as your orgasm is hitting you.
“Y/n,” he manages to get out through gritted teeth. “Fuck, y/n. You—” He cuts himself off with another groan as the tip of his cock hits so far down your throat you feel your neck bulge.
There’s a brief moment of panic as you struggle to breathe. The force a but more than you expected, but you relax, getting yourself to calm back down. But then you inhale through your nose and force your throat to rest until you can take him all in, the oxygen burning as it made its way past his cock in your throat. Not long after that, Shouto lets out a long, loud groan when his seed shoots down your throat.
It burns, and to your horror, you find yourself unable to take the sheer force of his load and the fact that he just seemed to keep unloading within you. Uncontrollable panicked coughing and choking rattle your throat while Shouto is still balls deep in you. The second he removes his cock from your throat, you shoot up, your core throbbing, and your airway burning as cum drips out from your nose.
You continue hacking, the bitter taste of cum scorching your throat, and you continued to rub cum from your nose. It burned and hurt to breathe. Turning your head towards Shouto, who turned off the fucking machine, his eyes were locked on you already, a grin on his face while he ran a hand through his hair.
“That was hot,” Shouto rustles, running the flat of his thumb against your upper lip, smearing his cum against your skin.
“That fucking hurt!” You snap, throwing his hand off your face, a fire exploding under your skin because you were more embarrassed than anything. You enjoyed the feeling of his cum coming out of your nose, but you weren’t about to admit it!
“I don’t care,” Shouto perversely informs you, his hands taking you cheeks and twisting you towards him before his lips press against yours.
His lips are libidinous against yours, his mouth opening as he coaxed you to join him in this affair. His kiss was bruising, his teeth knocking against yours when hot and breathless puffs of air exchanged between your mouths. The heated pressure does nothing to ease the burning in your throat, only intensifying the pain while you dig your fingers into his back, leaving crescent marks and bloodied tears behind. The pain does not deter Shouto, not even a little bit. There’s an approval growl emitting from his throat and his tongue soon pressed against yours, and you resisted the sharp moan threatening to leave while his muscle danced with yours.
“Stop holding it in,” he grunts, “make everyone know that you’re being fucked.”
The next noise to escape your mouth is a loud mewl when Shouto sucks against your own tongue, his eyes ablaze while he stares down at you, victory and lust in his eyes.
“Where should I fuck you next?” He asks, his body pressing you down into the mattress, ignoring your pained hisses for your legs were still bound. His fingers dig into your breasts, pinching at the edges of your areola instead of your nipple. Your fingers dug deeper into his skin when you sob at the teasing. “How does that filthy little cunt of yours want to be ruined next?”
“In his chair!” you cry in gluttony, your body thrashing and reaming against his touch. “Fuck me in his chair, sir!”
“Look at that, maybe the slut can learn,” Shouto grins into your skin, the tracing movements salacious, and he stands. You’re weightless when Shouto scoops you from the bed, his hands supporting your tender ass. Mindlessly, your mouth nibbles against his throat, leaving purple hickies in your wake while he collects more items.
The taste of his salty sweat invades your senses, your tongue lapping, and circling against his skin while Shouto gave no attention towards your actions. He merely dumped you onto the cool leather of Endeavors desk chair, and you arched in pain.
“Now, now,” he ruthlessly grabbed the ties on your legs. He slides them off with such amoral strength your skin throbs in his wake. Your legs, finally free, slam to the ground, and you let out a fervid noise as you stare up at your boyfriend, whose stomach is taut and sheened with sweat. “I thought you liked pain.”
“You haven’t been giving me any,” you sneer, your tongue dragging against your bottom lip.
Rage fills his eyes, and he chuckles depravedly, “Okay, brat.”
Grabbing your hips, he drags you on the chair so that your ass barely remains on the cold leather. Shoving you down by your chest, the wind is knocked out of you, and you heave when he grabs onto your ankles. With a familiar tightness and the strain of having your knees under your shoulders, the spreader bar is placed behind the chairs back, keeping you trapped to the chair.
You’re folded in half, and his hand pressed onto your stomach before he began to tie your arms and thigh down. Two ties to secure your wrist into place, two ties to secure your thighs into place. The position — being placed into an ‘L’ shape — prohibited you from breathing correctly as your inflexibility flashed through your muscles.
“Oh my god,” you breathe while Shouto presses the back of the chair into the desk for additional support. Your wrists throbbed with the loss of blood circulation, and Shouto stood before you, his hand fisting himself.
“Hard to breathe?” He mocks, his cock now fully erect again.
“Make me stop breathing, pussy,” you challenge unwavering.
“God, I was hoping you’d say that,” he smirked, grabbing the top of the chair, and placing his feet by the side of the bed, he rammed himself into your cunt.
There was nothing for you to do except pathetically howl when he slammed into your cervix, your body tied so tight to the chair any other action was stopped.
“You’re so fucking tight like this,” Shouto hisses, but you could hardly tell the difference with the way he pummels his cock deep within you. Perfectly hitting the back of your wall every time.
His girth was stretching you out far more than you could seem to remember, his thrusts were urgent as they were voracious, slamming deep into you with every second, scrambling your mind with every shift. But, he didn’t gag you, and you weren’t one to give in.
“It’s because you n-never fuck me r-rIGHT!”
His left fingers slammed into your mouth, his fingers touching the back of your throat as you choked against him in your surprise. Tears watered in your eyes, and his fingers dug into your spongy muscle, making you gag even more laborious.
It already hurt to breathe, with the sensation of his cum still falling from your nose, the angle of which you were tied up, and his finger in your throat, you began to panic. Your eyes close, your throat relaxing immediately to let things be okay. But as soon as you regain your breath, you feel your core throb in how much you liked that. Tears flow down your cheeks, your eyes locked on Shouto, who’s scorching you with his sight.
“I thought you were going to tap out,” he taunts, and your tongue pushes up against his fingers, your throat humming lowly to control the insistent gag at the back of your throat. “You’re crying, and yet you’re still so defiant.”
You tilt your head up, alleviating the pressure of his fingers in your throat, and still looking like a brat.
But his cock brushes against your g-spot and your eyes nearly bug out in ecstasy for his right-hand wraps around your neck. His cock still slams into you with speed and power, the oxygen in your body being denied with his tight grip around your neck, his fingers beginning to thrust within your mouth emulating a cock, and the chair starts to squeak with every movement.
Your ass pathetically rises off the chair, a desperate attempt to move in time with his drilling cock. Both of you delirious under your overstimulation and refusal to stop until there was evidence for years that the two of you fucked in Endeavors’ room. His grip around your neck soon became bruising, where his fingertips were burned you, but you cared not. His cock was stretching you out in shameless thrill, the angle only increasing the pleasure buzzing through you. Your eyes cross over in your elation, and you splutter when his fingers leave your throat, moving to press cold and wet figure-eights onto your clit.
“Fucking take my cock,” he growls.
Your head nods, the heated pressure in your belly scorching. Your walls clamp down against his hammering cock, but it doesn’t slow him down, only encouraging him to increase his speed and strength until the chair creaked against your weight. The sopping noises of your meeting sex filled your ears, and you moaned loudly, your teeth biting down onto your lip.
It takes his cock brushing against your g-spot for your legs to slam forward, your arms nearly succeeding in destroying endeavors ties as you try sitting up as your orgasm slams through you.
“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” You scream hoarsely. Your scream only increases in great thrill when you feel the chair snap under the force of his fuck. But Shouto ignores it, his hips continuing to drill into you, his hand clamping tighter against your neck, cutting off your voice. Shouto isn’t done yet, after all.
His hands move to grip the exposed back of your thighs, his grip bruising your supple skin. He slams into you faster, his cock continuing unaffected by your convulsing walls. There are no other noises except your wet cunt meeting his cock, your shrieks of approval, and Shouto’s heavy breathing as he continues to drive into you. His body is giving you unreplicable sensations, and your body only making Shouto stammer and curse loudly.
His lips find yours, and there is nothing to say, the kiss is messy, more teeth than anything. Saliva passed between the two of you without care, as he chases his orgasm. His brutal pace continues, your name growled from your throat, until one last thrust and one final clamp from your cunt sends him over.
He pulls out as soon as he cums, his seed slipping down from your slit, tickling your tight ass and dripping onto the chair and the floor.
Your eyes are barely opened; you try to peer at Shouto, who is pressing his right hand to his forehead.
“You cheat,” you rasp, knowing that he had successfully cooled his body down.
He smiles at you wickedly, choosing to ignore you before walking back.
“Look at that,” Shouto whispers, bending down so that his face is level with your cunt and ass. “Can’t have anything not falling onto Endeavors things getting out of you…”
His finger pushes his cum back into your sore cunt, and you sharply breath when he pats your cunt.
“You want me to have your babies,” you tease, and he remains silent, dragging his fingers down the center of your pussy. His breathing teases your sensitive flesh, and you feel yourself clench when he pulls his fingers lower than where he usually goes. Soon, his fingers trace around your puckered asshole.
“S-Sir,” you pant, your chest rising as far up as you could in this position, and your eyes widened when he looked up at you.
“Have you ever wanted to try anal?”
Your mouth drops when the pad of his finger teases your other entrance, and your thighs shook while you remained silent.
His opposite hand struck your ass sharply, your body thrashing as it stung against your unprepared skin.
“Answer me.”
“Y-Yes!”
“Yes, what?!”
“I want your cock in my ass!”
Your boyfriend’s quirk did not involve speed; in fact, without his quirk, he was not that fast. Sure he was athletic and adequately trained, but in comparison to those on the Hero field, if you took away quirk usage, he was barely above average. But there were times that you believed he was incredibly fast, and this was one of those moments.
You found your face, chest, and knees buried back into the mattress, your back arched so much you swore you would need a spine replacement after this, and the ties and spreader bar were gone.
His fingers slide between your folds, lathering in your essence. A low groan left your lips at the feeling, and you quivered when Shouto’s hands spread your ass cheeks.
“B-Be gentle,” you whimper when he presses the pad of his forefinger against your pert hole. Your ass tightened instinctively, and Shouto huffed but pressed his finger in. A weird full pain shot through you when the tip of his finger entered your rectum, your ass squeezing against his finger, trying to deny him entrance.
“Fuck,” he mumbled, his other hand massaging your ass cheek, trying to calm your instincts to let him in.
Your fingers dig into the comforter, the still wet fabric from your multiple orgasms was cold under your heated fingers. But something cold splashed against your ass, and you shook, demanding to know what it was.
“Lube,” he answers, a smirk evident in his tone as his fingers leave your asshole. A soft groan exhales from your breath at him exiting your ass, and soon enough, his finger returns to your puckered tight hole. The feeling of his fingers pushing in you to his first knuckles sends your ass flying backward toward him, a desperate and idiotic way of getting him further in.
It was a weird feeling, almost reminiscent to the first time you had sex, only completely different. It made your head spin in a frenzied way and felt backward but in a way where you needed more.
“You like this,” he laughs, his lips pressing against your spine. Your head nods, you’re unable to speak as his fingers push into you and pull back out. It’s a slow and chilling movement that fills your asshole and makes you dizzy.
“Shit,” you breathe, your body rattling, your ass rolling against his fingers.
“Are you ready for my cock, whore?” He asks, and you whine in response. His hand grips your ass, and his finger curls within you. You loudly call out his name, feeling your body turning weak as you lay there, a slave to his manipulation. His manipulation of your ass sends warm liquid falling down your thighs, shining against your skin as his hand smacks your inner thigh, and he relishes in your high pitched squeal. “You finally cave to anal when I’m fucking you here. Is this what you wanted all along?”
Your eyes clamp shut as his fingers exit your ass, and you only manage a panting groan in response. There’s a soft ripping noise before a package hits your face.
Your eyes open to see a condom package sitting by your face, its empty, and you shift your head to stare at Shouto who’s unraveling the condom on his cock.
“You haven’t used those in a while,” you remark snidely, your eyes glowing with amusement as he locks onto you, his eyes rolling.
“I remember a certain someone begging for me to put it in her raw,” he smoothly states, lube in his hands now, and he applies a lot on the smooth condom. “Besides, you want my cock up your ass, you don’t get to play that card right now.”
“Yeah, well — oHMY GOD!”
Shouto, without warning, presses the head of his cock within your asshole. It stretches you out disgustingly, sharp pain throbbing in your ass and cunt as he settles within you. Despite his cock halfway buried within your ass, it’s your pussy that weeps. Your slick runs rampant down your inner thigh, falling onto the bed top. Shouto’s fingers dig into your waist, the both of you breathing heavy at this new feeling.
Slowly, his fingers move to your breast and your nipples, and with the smallest nod from you, he begins.
In and out, he moves, his hips moving faster than a manageable speed, and your eyes welled with tears at the constipated feeling in your asshole. His fingers tweak and pull at your clit and nipple, savagely teasing them, uncaring that your cries left drooling puddles on the bed. His thrusting movements became quicker, harder, and more solid until a familiar sensation of his balls slapping your skin burned your mind.
“More,” you beg against the sheets, drool coating your cheek, your body nothing more than his fuck toy. “Fuck my asshole harder.”
Shouto merely growls, the pinch on your clit, making your hips buck against his cock, and he began to barbarically slam into you. It was as if it was your pussy and not your ass he was drilling into.
Your body shifts with his every movement, your slick pouring from your cunt, and he let go of your nipple. In your crazed state, you sob at the loss of contact, but his hand strikes against your soaked cunt with a loud sound. The force alone nearly sends your eyes flying open, your vision blurring when his finger dive into your sex.
His fingers work at double the speed of which his hips slam into you. His fingers pushing the limits of your velvet walls; he curls his fingers against your walls, dragging them deliciously against your clenching heat. Then there was his cock, and at times the thin walls that separated his fingers and his cock brushed together, sending you into a new frenzy while you sobbed his name.
Begging for more, begging to come.
“You already need to come?!” He snaps, his hips not at all weak, and you moaned loudly, knowing that he was nowhere close. “Then come you, filthy bitch, I just started, and you need to come!”
“I-It feels so fucking good,” you garble, your jaw unable to move for its slack against the mattress, electrifying pleasure singing your nerves, and with a loud smack to your pussy, you come hard against his fingers, splashing against the bed top.
There’s no time wasted; Shouto pulls himself from your ass and shoves you onto your back again. There’s no fightback, no attitude, from you. Without being forced to, your legs are brought to your chest while Shouto discards the condom onto the bed.
“Aren’t you so fucking enthusiastic, getting all ready for me without asking,” Shouto grins, his hands grabbing your legs right below your ankle. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you right now?”
“Y-You’re going to fill me up with your cum,” you stammer for he pushes your legs slowly towards you, the stretch in your muscles overwhelming for your sore body. “You’re going to give me your babies.”
“What else?” He taunts, the top of his cock rubbing against your clit.
“B-Breed me like the bitch I am, sir!” Your cry, wanting nothing more than his cock to bury all nine inches in you.
“Come for me one more time, and I’ll make sure to fill you until you’re dripping with my semen for an entire week,” Shouto promises, and his hips slam within you.
Your knees are buried within the mattress by your head, your feet curling and pressing against each other.  Shouto lays on top of you, the penetration deep, and his hands gripping yours. The weight of having him on you is exhilarating, and for the first time this night, his lips press hungrily against yours while ball deep within you.
His cock slams against the wall of your cervix repetitively while his lips overwhelm you. Each slam into you is massive and powerful. Powerful enough to have you sobbing into his mouth while he kisses you, his hands clutching your smaller ones in his.
Again and again, he slams into you. His thrusts knocking the wind out of you until you release his hands and find yourself digging your fingers into his back, crying out his name desperately while his teeth find a home on your neck, sinking into flesh he had long ago broke. The powerful pounding of his cock makes you keen, your hips jerking up to meet his, but you’re useless against his downward thrusts.
“Impregnate me, sir,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back in pleasure, “breed me, please!”
“You’ll be full of my fucking kids in no time, your cute belly will be round with my kid,” he snaps, his cock throbbing within your pussy, and loud echoing slaps fill the room. Your nails claw at his back, marking him in multiple places with clean four red lines.
You couldn’t take the feeling of how his body moved perfectly within you, the strength and power behind his every move were almost too natural as if this was an everyday thing. You let out noises reasonably similar to a purr, grinding your cunt against his conquesting cock and laughing breathlessly at his low groan.
“You like this, whore?” Shouto nips at your throat, his thrusts making you shriek out his name as he buries you further into the bed, your nails digging into his flesh. “You like the way my cock fills your pussy the same way it did that pretty little ass?” You nod rapidly, your eyes closed, your mouth open, your pants tumbling from your mouth. Your sanity was lying on a string, his actions the reasons for your downfall.
His leverage was small, but every thrust seemed to have his cock being pulled out of you nearly completely. Before he drilled back into your pussy. The noises of your connecting wet sex left loud echo with your squelching pussy around his hot cock.
The muscles on his back seemed to flare dramatically, your screams turning silent due to your approval of this.
“You like the way I fuck your pussy? The way that I’ll fill you with my seed for days to come?” he growls into your ear, his hips inhumanly slamming into you.
“I need you to breed me,” you sob, the fire in your face as bright and hot as the one between your legs. His sweaty forehead pressed against yours, and his lips recapture yours.
Your mind goes blank when a mighty crash goes through you. But Shouto must not have felt the familiar spastic clamping of your inner walls as he continues pistoling his hips into you, hitting your cervix, and pushing it further up with every slam. You cry against his mouth, your hands shoving at his shoulders as the feeling of your orgasm was too strong to deny, and he slips out of you.
You squirt wildly, your juices going everywhere, wetting his groin area, and splashing against the bed.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,��� he growls, and once again slams into you.
Your scream is silent, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your fingers digging into his neck, and your toes curl. His hips are driving, persistent, and have a goal in mind. You can barely keep up with him, your long overstimulated body wanting to collapse at the seams, but he doesn’t stop.
The bed creaks loudly under you, headboard crashing into the wall, over and over again.
“Cum, sir,” you beg, your hips wildly thrashing against his. “Please, fill me with your seed!”
That’s all it takes, and a hot and heavy load shoots through you, and Shouto collapses onto you at the same time the bed falls. Neither one of you reacts as gravity shifts you both slightly downwards, but your mind is too full of Shouto to care. His body twitching while his cock remains hard within you, the feeling of his cum swimming in your cunt, making your head spin with euphoria.
Drowsiness hits you quickly, and Shouto’s body heat is quickly putting you to sleep.
He pulls out of you gently, and the feeling of his cock no longer in you makes you whimper, your nose burying into his neck as he flips the two of you over so that you’re laying on his chest. His hands send warm and cooling waves through your body, helping soothe the aches in your tired body.
Who knew Endeavor was the key to making Shouto lose control. Maybe you needed to get him to fuck you on this bed more often now.
You can feel the cum seeping from your cunt, and Shouto must have too, for he scooped it back in with his fingers, and you chuckled at the feeling of his warm fingers against your seizing cunt. This was nice, you loved this.
“I didn’t go too overboard, did I?” He asks, his voice small given that he saw the blood that trailed down your neck and the raised handprints on your ass.
“No,” you say, your hands running down his muscled sides. “Not at all, I really enjoyed this, sir.”
Your words are teasing, and the two of you chuckle as silence overtakes the two of you.
“I love you, y/n,” he whispers, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.
“I love you, too, Shouto,” you mumble, your eyes fluttering closed, sleep consuming you.
You don’t remember anything else, only that you woke up the next morning in your bed, your body is strewn with purple bruises, red hickies, and handprints on your body, wearing nothing but Shouto’s shirt and your panties.
“Good morning beautiful,” his voice greets you, and you sigh, soreness rampaging your body.
“Good morning, my love.”
Bonus!
Endeavor walked into his house at three in the morning, the strains of a late night at work had truly exhausted him.
Shouto, who he had asked to take care of his house for only two hours had stayed much later. His son had informed him that he left ten minutes before he arrived. It was too bad, Endeavor thought, he wasn’t able to get back on time to see his son and girlfriend. Tossing his case to the floor, Endeavor was ready for bed.
Trudging through his house, he was quick to realize how humid the house was when he neared his room. His eyebrows scrunched, his attention on alert as he threw open the door, the lights and fan turned on by mistake.
CRASH!
Endeavors’ eyes widened at the sight of the cum-stained bed, the ruined sheets, the slanted chair, and his bed being held together by ice. His eyes locked on the fan blade that fell from its place; it was cracked entirely in the middle. There was no denying that his room was wholly and disgustingly used, and for what?! His stupid kid didn’t ever need to stay!
“SHOUTOOOOOO!”
15K notes · View notes
dreamescapeswriting · 3 years
Text
Juliet ~ OT7 [Request]
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WORD COUNT: 3.5K
PAIRING: ot7 x reader
GENRE: Mafia au, ot7 mafia, singer reader, 
A/N: Hiya love, you didn’t mention if you wanted it to be platonic or love so I made it platonic I hope that this is okay for you!! Mentions of Ateez in here too! :) @plotolonlye
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Working for one of the most well-known mafia groups set your dating pool into the shallow end, there weren't that many people that were willing to date someone who was working for bangtan sonyeondan...Or BTS as they were better known as. It wasn't easy telling someone you were dating who you were working for so you did your best to keep it under wraps though it was hard since the boys treated you like a sister so far everything had been okay. The guy you were dating currently - Yeosang-  had been understanding about the boys and even agreed to do some of their stupid tests to see if he was suitable for you. It was stupid little games to see if he was "worthy" enough of you or making him run errands for the boys so that they would have someone to do their boring work for a while until they agreed he was okay for you. 
"Babe?" You glanced over your shoulder when you heard the familiar voice of your boyfriend calling you. He smiled at you as he stood at the changing room door just watching you. The dress you were wearing clung to your body perfectly as stylists worked around you trying to make sure your hair and makeup was done to perfection. You were a singer for the boys in one of their many, many clubs that they owned in the middle of Busan.
"What's up?" You questioned looking at your boyfriend through the mirror as one of the assistants attached a microphone to your cheek, applying a little surgical tape so that it would stay well attached while you moved around on stage. Yeosang began scratching the back of his neck, something he normally did when he was nervous about something so you got up from the dressing table to try and give him a kiss on the cheek with some words of encouragement but he yawned, stepping away from you. 
"Is your room upstairs empty?" He questioned not being able to meet your eyes as you stared at him, 
"Yeah...You're not watching me tonight? I'm performing a new song that the boys wanted me to sing..." You whispered as you reached out to take his hand, hoping that he would at least stick around long enough to see how much emotion you would put into the love song you were going to sing. 
"No, I'm just a little tired. Jimin's had me doing extra work all week," You nodded along with him as he began running towards the staircase that was just towards the back exit of the bar. That was all he had been saying for weeks now, that Jimin had been working him to death and it was starting to bug you. You figured that once the boys let him pass his trails he would be free to go back to working his own personal job and not the errands the boys wanted him on. Yeosang was far too innocent to be placed into the Mafia lifestyle, the boys were dangerous and you didn't want Yeosang to get hurt just because he was busy working for the boys. 
"Y/n, you're up in two minutes." Your stage manager called out as she looked at you, you'd been staring at the space where Yeosang had been standing thinking back on everything. 
"I'm coming," You mumbled going over to her and peeking out from the small gap in the curtain. 
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The bar you worked in was decorated to look like an old 1940's bar and people loved coming there, there were always old drinks...The workers all dressed as though they were from the 1940's everything looked as though people had travelled back in time. Including the stage, it had old microphones, old musical equipment and it was amazing to work there every night. 
"3...2...1..." The music started up and you came out from behind the question, smiling as you started singing in time to the music looking around to see some of the locals that were in there tonight. A lot of the same faces were looking at you but there were seven all-too-familiar faces that made you feel angry inside, your blood boiling as you sang what was supposed to be a love song.
"Ooo, I know you're probably thinkin' what's the use. I promise it's the little things things that you do," You sang out as you began walking around the stage, stepping down onto the bar floor as you tried to make it look like this was some kind of choreography, walking around the floor of the bar singing to people. 
"What's she doing?" Yoongi asked as he watched you close, interacting with different people on the floor as you made your way over to the boys.
"I think she's doing her job," Jin said sarcastically as he watched you, it wasn't the first time that you had walked into the crowd to sing people seemed to love being close to you, getting to hear you sing.
"Baby, been a minute since I had something so sweet, Mmm...Oh hey," You looked directly at the boys as you made your way over to them and they knew that they were in trouble for some unknown reason.
"What did you do?" Yoongi accused Jungkook looking to the youngest member of the group, everyone following his lead. 
"Nothing. Not recently at least," He grumbled downing the glass of scotch that was in front of him. They may have been some of the scariest people to everyone else but you scared them, especially when you were angry they'd known you long enough to never get on the wrong side of you.
"I want you to keep speaking my love language. Baby, talk your shit all night!" The music ended and the lights went down which was when you would normally head behind the stage curtain and be replaced by the next performer but you didn't, you stayed at the table the boys were sitting at and laid your palms flat on the table, staring at all of them. 
"Stop making him work for you, I thought the little games you were doing were over," You snapped as you glanced to Jimin, your eyes felt as though they were staring into his soul as he stuttered over his words, 
"I-I haven't even had him around-" Jimin tried to speak but you cut him off
"You've been making Yeosang run around for you and it stops. Now." You demanded as Jimin shook his head, glancing to the boys to see if they had been the ones doing it but they all shook their heads. 
"Y/n...We left him alone months ago." Namjoon said slowly as you stared at him, your heart dropped to your stomach as you thought about why Yeosang would lie to you about something like that. 
"Y/n?" Taehyung questioned as he placed his hand on top of yours but you snatched it away, walking towards the backstage area with your head down trying to pass off the thoughts of what Yeosang was doing behind your back, you had a set to complete before you could even find out.
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Walking into your room after the night finished all you wanted to do was collapse onto the bed and sleep for a week but when you entered the room you realised you weren't alone. There were noises coming from the bedroom and clothes scattered along the floor, not just Yeosang's clothes either. Women's clothes. Deciding to sneak up into the bedroom you quietly walked towards your door, skillfully avoiding the creaking floorboards. Swinging the door open you saw something you never thought you were going to see. Your heart felt as though it dropped to the floor and everything smashed around you. 
"Shit," Yeosang cried out as he covered the woman he was laying in your bed with, 
"You finished your set already?" You scoffed at the audacity to ask you something so stupid while he laid, naked, in your bed with another woman. 
"Are you serious?!" You yelled out as you could feel your body heating up, 
"Who are you?" The girl laughed loudly as she looked you up at down, you could feel the judgement seeping from her. 
"I'm the girl whose bed your sleeping in, who the fuck are you?!" You snapped back knowing that it wasn't her that you were angry at, it was Yeosang but you couldn't help but transfer your anger onto everyone else.
"Areum. Yeosang's girlfriend and this is his apartment," She quipped as she began attaching herself to Yeosang's neck as if she was some kind of Plecostomus on the side of a fish tank.
"Really? His apartment? Did he tell you that?" You laughed loudly as you looked at him, your stomach doing flips as you thought about him sleeping in your bed with someone that wasn't you.
"You know what...Keep it, burn it...Do whatever the hell you want just stay the fuck away from me." You threw the keys at him, hitting him in the chest as he grunted. Getting out of the bed and chasing after you as you headed for the door 
"You're not going to tell the boys, are you? T-They'll kill me...Actually, kill me." That was all he cared about. The boys finding out that he had been cheating on you 
"How long?" You questioned,
"How long what?"
"How long has this been going on?" You turned to look at him, your eyes burning into his as he realised he was going to have to tell the truth or you would find out one way or another. 
"Since the start...I was just-"
"Using me to get close to the boys? Using me for money? Which is it, cause I've had them all." You snapped as you walked out of the door, slamming it behind you as you began heading down the stairs and towards the back exit, ignoring your manager as she questioned where you were going. Away. You needed to get away from everything and everyone. You were sick of people using you just to get close to the boys to use you in order to get into their good books. No one ever wanted you for who you were and you were always left feeling abandoned and neglected.
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The next night you knew that you had to go into work or the boys would do something and you didn't want the blood of someone on your hands, even if you weren't pulling the trigger yourself. 
"Here," Your manager said as she handed you a hand-held microphone after you stepped into a long black dress, all day you had been teaching one of the stage performers how to play a song you had written so that you would be able to perform it live. It would make a change to sing something you had written yourself for a change, the boys always gave you the freedom to do what you wanted. 
"I don't ever ask you...Where you've been. And I don't feel the need to...Know who you're with," You started off low, staring at the back of the room not being able to look at everyone knowing that you would probably burst into tears.
"I can't even think straight, but I can tell...That you were just with her...And I'll still be a fool. I'm a fool for you." The piano picked up and you managed to look over at the boy's table where they were all staring down at something, probably working on their next big break. 
"Just a little bit of your heart, just a little bit of your heart. Just a little bit of your heart is all I want," Jimin was the first to look up when he heard your voice crack in the middle of singing, something you would never do because you were all about professionalism but as soon as he saw you he knew there was something wrong. You looked like you'd hardly slept and your eyes were red with tears building up. 
"I think something's wrong," He whispered as he began nudging Hoseok beside him, making him look up at you too until they all stared at you, watching as you poured every heartbroken emotion that you had into every word you sang. 
Tears streamed down your cheeks as the song was coming to an end, Yeosang was sitting at a table with Areum their hands locked together as though they had done nothing wrong and were just there for the show. 
"Just a little bit is all I'm asking for..." The ending note trailed on until the lights went off and you rushed off the stage, your whimpers could be heard thanks to the microphone but no one besides the boys seemed to notice, giving you a standing ovation.
"What made her so upset?" Jungkook mumbled before Jimin pointed over at Yeosang who was already kissing Areum down the neck, chuckling to one another as he left marks up and down her pale skin.
"I'll fucking kill him," Yoongi growled but he was held back by Jin who was looking over in the direction of the backstage, 
"We comfort Y/n first...She must be broken up inside." He told the boys as he got up, trying not to make it look obvious that something was going on.
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When they reached backstage you were gone, a car had been waiting for you and you left without a word. 
"Where are you going?" Namjoon snapped as he watched Yeosang out of the corner of his eye walking towards the staircase that leads to your apartment. 
"Y/n gave me the apartment, I'm going home." He had a giant smirk plastered across his face as he kept his arm around Areum's waist. 
"What makes you think we'll let you live after what you've done?" Yoongi questioned as he grabbed Yeosang by the labels of his coat, pushing him against the wall roughly causing him to hit his head. 
"Uh, uh, uh I wouldn't...I have some very powerful friends that would be interested to know that Y/n is one of your weaknesses." The boys froze as the words left his mouth in a cocky tone,
"What-"
"You really think I would date someone so close to you? It's been a plan from the start, Ateez will be interested to know what's going on behind closed doors..." Yoongi let him go at the mention of another Mafia family in Busan. 
"Remember all those errands you sent me on? I'd be careful unless you want company secrets leaking out." He chuckled darkly, pulling Areum up the staircase as the boys exchanged worried glances with one another at the thought of something happening to them. It didn't matter if something happened to the company it was you that they cared about more than anything else in the world. 
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As more time passed the boys began to grow worried about you, you would go to work and perform before heading back to lord knows where. They weren't able to find you and couldn't get into contact with you until one night you came to work with a plan. You'd been planning it for months since the incident with Yeonsang had occurred, you wanted to get him back for everything he had done so you spent months making your plan foul-proof. Making yourself known as Juliet in one of the bars that Ateez owned in downtown Seoul. You'd changed your whole identity getting a wig, makeup and everything else perfect for what you wanted to do. To the boys in the club, you were Juliet to everyone else you were just a blonde girl who went to the bar every Friday night like clockwork.
"Tonight is the night," You told the boys as you sat across from them in their large car, all eight of you together.
"Do you remember the plan?" You questioned JImin still a little unsure that they understood what was going to happen tonight.
"You head to the bar first and the band they have gets sick...We come in as your own personal band and the rest moves like clockwork." You smiled at the thought of it, Hongjoong was out of town along with Yeosang, Mingi, Jongho, Yunho, San and Seonghwa leaving Wooyoung all alone to look after the club all on his own. 
"I'll take care of Wooyoung, you focus on everything else." You whispered as you handed them the code to the safe that was in the boy's office, you'd managed to swipe it from one of the not-so-great guards that they had. 
"I never thought I'd see the day Y/n got into a job with us," Jungkook chuckled as you got out of the car wearing a tight red dress, heading straight to the club doors and acting as though you owned the place. Confidence was key. 
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Wooyoung sat beside you with a smile on his face, handing you a drink while six out of the seven boys stood on the stage in their disguises, singing and playing their instruments you smirked at Namjoon on the stage.
"Hey, quiet night," You motioned around the club that had around 20 people sitting at tables and talking amongst one another. 
"I knew you would be coming, I wanted a quiet night." You smirked up at him, the lipstick you were wearing was his favourite, the dress his favourite you made sure to do your research on everything he knew and loved. Swiping a martini from a waiter you sipped on it while looking at Wooyoung, 
"Why would you want a quiet night for that?" You questioned sitting a little closer to him, your chest against his side as you looked up into his eyes. The boy seemed to stutter a little as his eyes scanned over your body, 
"We could always go to my car out back..." You giggled softly raising your eyebrows at him, his jaw practically dropped to the floor. 
"You want to get involved with someone like me?" You nodded in answer to his question and he smirked, licking his lips as he glanced around for a guard. 
"Take care of the floor, I'll be back soon." You pulled him out from the booth, dragging out towards a back door where a black SUV was waiting for you. 
"Who's the guy?" Wooyoung asked as you attached your lips to his neck in the back of the car, sucking on his skin so you could leave marks. 
"My driver, don't worry...He was just leaving." You mentioned as you stared at Yoongi in the review mirror, he nodded before getting out of the car and heading into the club. 
"Now...Where were we?" You giggled as you attached yourself onto Wooyoung's neck once again, kissing up and down until you reached his lips where he kissed you back. 
"How about a drink?" You asked innocently as you pulled out a bottle of champagne from the door with two glasses. 
"I love it," He popped the bottle not noticing as you slipped some sleeping pills into the glass, pouring the liquid in and smiling to yourself as the man downed it in one. 
Weeks of torturing yourself to get close to him were paying off as you hauled his money into the bag you were carrying. So much money you had to call Yoongi back to put some into his pockets, Wooyoung must have been dumb for carrying so much cash around but you were too busy taking it to care. 
"Sorry baby, you were cute but I needed what I needed." You cooed, placing a red lipstick kiss on his cheek before getting out of the cab and leaving him there for the night.
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The boys made a break for the car with everything they could carry, bags of cash and jewellery along with everything else that Ateez seemed to store in the safe.
"We have to do this again," Jimin breathed out as the car you got into began speeding back to Busan, all of you celebrating happily that you had pulled off a large plan together, organised by you and you alone. 
"We do," You confirmed as you downed some wine, looking at Namjoon with a questioning look. You knew there was no way you could go back to just singing in a club now that you had done this, 
"Nobody does it like Juliet." He winked at you referring to your fake name as you smiled brightly at him.
Months later and headlines were splashed with articles about you, "Mysterious woman strikes again," Attached with a photo of a giant question mark, everyone questioning who you could have been and who you could have possibly been working for to pull this kind of stunt off.
"Who would have thought," Jungkook chuckled as he looked over your shoulder at the article you were reading, 
"People start to turn and stare, everywhere she goes, and insider told us today as they claimed to have seen the mystery lady," Jungkook readout, passing the article to Namjoon who smirked,
"She will steal your soul...set her sights on billionaires all she wants is gold." They all laughed loudly and you could feel your body heating up at all of the attention, 
"Juliet needs to lay low...Just for a little while," They all agreed with you, not wanting to get caught too soon.
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Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @sw33tnight @innersooya @sweeneyblue1 @agustdjoon @jin-from-the-block @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk @anxiousbobatea​ @justbangtanthingz​
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179 notes · View notes
rumblelibrary · 3 years
Note
Back at it again with mysterious anon,
Could I request some Niki angst? You've done one where the reader cheats on James to be with Niki so maybe reader cheats on Niki with James 👀
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Muted [Niki Lauda x Reader]
Word count: 2k
Warnings: angst
A/N: This one makes no sense, I just wanted to break my own heart. Little narration, a lot of feelings.
Niki wished to be able to tear his ears off when he heard James sweet talk to you after a pre-season testing. He whispered sweet nothings to you, telling you how he would sweep you off your feet, bring you away to his house in England.
Then things got heated, he started mentioning how he wished to do you this and that. He didn't need to be specific with his words, Niki could easily understand the situation by how y didn't even flinch or tried to deny yourself.
He knew you, he knew you too well.
With him you have always been protective, jealous, proud of your relationship and there was only one way he could imagine you giving in.
You already gave up. He already lost you before that very moment, you slipped through his fingers like water through wood, following every curve and every wrinkle, weakening it from the outside until you got to the inside, opening it up, exposing it.
His jaw clenched, he pulled his cap over his eyes as he marched away.
There was no time to regret, no time to think twice, he had only one thing to do.
Throw the soaked wood away.
You were speechless the moment you came home to find your stuff already dislocated outside the door, your keys completely useless in the brand new locker.
Very Niki: efficient, resolute and without looking back.
You knocked at the door, you waited but there was no answer.
Your eyes darted down onto the simple and effective doormat you brought, or was it already there when you moved in? As you wondered why it had to end like this, you didn't even act surprised, you knew perfectly what you did and you took full responsibility over your actions.
You were no saint in this situation and maybe it was bold of you to just expect confrontation from Niki.
You considered to just leave, even if pained you to go like that, but you were temporary bruiselessp, you knew actions weren’t the most painful weapon in Niki’s arsenal, it was his cut throat way of speaking and in particular when it came to you.
Before you could have the time to realise that it wasn’t a punishment but a chance the door opened. Wild curls and beaming eyes, simple home clothing and steady hands.
He was everything you ever wanted and all you could never achieve.
“Niki” you murmured as you looked at him “Listen”
He looked at you eyebrows up “Oh, no I think I heard enough today between you and Hunt”
“No, no, now you’ll listen”
You paced inside the house quickly to stand in front of him, a visible frown over
your features.
Don’t do it, you ket telling yourself, just leave, just go, don’t confront him, you can’t win.
He was right, you cheated but it was’t pure lust, it wasn’t like you enjoyed to hurt him and hadn’t felt a single beat of guilt, you just wanted him to know that.
“Tell me the truth, were you even serious with me?”
You asked him and the question made him cringe.
“Like what? The doubt made you wish to make sure you will always have a bed to sleep into? We lived together, sounds pretty serious to me, evident if you apply a bit of brain power in it”
You frowned as he was hurt and he was attacking you but he saw you wanted to talk and he smirked shaking his head “What are you doing? Finding a way to put the blame on me?”
“I just want to talk Niki” you groaned but he rolled his eyes
“No, you just want to tell me why you did it”
He was stone cold, maybe you hoped he’d react somehow, maybe a bit, maybe just a bit. And now he was just humiliating you even more. No matter the pain of being cheated on, he wouldn’t let you win that either.
In that moment you realised that your gut feeling was right, you should have just disappeared.
“Go on, how bad can I have been to make you decide it was better to fuck James Hunt?”
“You never cared about me”
It was dry as an answer, you hated yourself forn ot being able to express all you went through now that it was the time, his eyebrows shot up in disbelief and a bit of
sassiness. He was mocking you.
“Didn’t I?”
“No, not when you’re constantly dismissing me, telling me anything I say it is stupid or judging anything I do from your superior being. Anything I did was poorly done, or not the right moment or just not enough for you”
“You’re not stupid, but clearly you need to see everything through your heart shaped eyeglasses, right? You need confirms and words and speeches and big excitement. Well, go play the princess somewhere else, what I offered you will be the only true relationship you’ll ever have, and you know it. I never lied to you, I never cheated on you, I tried to better somebody that liked to stay as she is, that’s my only fault”
“I didn’t want to be somebody else, I just wanted you to care about something, anything that was not your job”
“So fucking around was a better choice to keep your ego up”
“No, but at least somebody would gave a fuck about me”
You snapped back immediately to him, you couldn’t remember the last time
you and Niki had sex, maybe a little shag in the middle of the night but it
felt more like trying to get rid of the tension to fall asleep.
He rolled his eyes like little he cared, his hands opening like you just stated what you had to do:get the fuck out.
That always hurt you: the fact that whenever he seemed driven to you, he would pull you into amazing kisses and heated love sessions but always at his time, his desires. If you ever leaned to kiss his neck or reach for him when he was busy or doing something more important, which was most of the times, he would shrug you off, literally closing the space between his neck and shoulder, stretching his back to get you away.
Not now.
Stop it.
Don't be like this.
You really aren’t good at picking timings, are you?
Those words hunted you day by day, you felt like he didn't need you, like anything you did was wrong, flawed, helplessly meant to annoy him one way or another.
You always seemed to organise dates in the wrong days, to wish to stay lazy at home on the wrong day, to pick the wrong moment, the wrong occasion, the wrong words, the wrong topic.
There were times you even woke up with him, you would sit at the breakfast table with him, not knowing if to engage a conversation or just trying to show him your support. You just wanted to see him even if you didn’t know if he would stay outside for the night or leave for some business meeting or whatnot.
But it was never worth it, it was never enough.
Every time you engaged him for confirms or any kind of formal commitment you always were out of place, out of time.
Your touches denied, no sweet words for your ears. You felt like a shadow beside him, you weren't there for the good and neither fo the bad. You weren't into his thoughts and not even into his hopes.
You grew detached from him, angry, you wished to hurt him even though every time you found yourself staring in his eyes you felt bubbles in your stomach and an happy feeling. A voice in your chest telling you how much you cared, how dear he was to you.
And yet , no fondness was reserved to you, no tender touches or gentle words.
It was just the bare minimum of a relationship.
So it felt natural, terribly natural that when somebody, it was James but you know anyone could have worked it out, gave you the backhand of attention you felt loved and blessed. Did your heart flutter when you saw him? Probably not, but he held your hand, he wanted to spend time with you, he stayed in bed after sex with you, he held you and not just dealt with you. You didn’t feel dumb every second of your day with him.
Because that's how Niki made you feel.
Like you were a burden and you'd gladly relieve him now from that, even if you never wished for it to happen this way.
Not reducing it all to the unstoppable drive of sex, your pain was discarded, once more.
You probably deserved it, you got it in the moment you admitted your weakness to him, the moment you slipped into some other man’s bed instead of facing him.
Or maybe, admit it, maybe you just hoped that he would lose control.
Just once, just one time he would have to put the rest aside and focus only on you.
"Now that you wasted some more of my time" he held the door open and waited.
You felt anger and sadness mixed up, the realisation that even now you couldn't win against him.
You'd never get your point across, you will just be the cheater and he would be right.
The loud slam followed your exit as your eyes dropped onto the couple of luggages belonging to you, all your stuff. You never realised it was so little.
You didn't feel like seeing James, let out friends and family that will give you random hypocritical phrases to cheer you up.
Maybe you'll go to an hotel, maybe you'll just leave.
You wished to change your name, change yourself.
The instinctive thought that crossed your mind made you gag, because for a moment, just a random malicious moment, you imagined how beautiful it could be to start from the beginning with Niki.
And maybe you won't do the same mistakes, maybe you'd be better.
James told you many times that you didn't have a reason to feel less than Niki, but the truth was that after hearing to be wrong, do wrong and act wrong, you begun to believe it.
And as you dragged your stuff t the car and drove off you begun wondering what life could be without Niki and while watching you and your little suitcases he wondered why you have such a small amount of things. He wondered if you have always looked so frail, he wondered if there will ever be an after you.
Or maybe, all hope was leaving with you, you were his Pandora’s box, a box full of all the feelings he prohibited himself to distract him and the hope was leaving with you, hidden tightly in the perfect cage of your chest.
Far from him, safer.
Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog
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hyunjilicious · 3 years
Text
onlyfans #1 [ransom drysdale]
A/n: I’ve had this idea for a LONG time, and yesterday it wasn’t showing up in the tags, so I’m trying again today! This is part of a future pseudo-series, because I adore this concept. Also, prepare for cameos!!
Summary: So Ransom lost his inheritance. I hope the title doesn’t spoil his plan to make a living (SMUT) 3.4k
Warnings: spanking, daddy kink, size kink, dirty talk, domestic submission, name calling, degradation, dub con (just in case), slight spit play, breath play, taking/selling nudes (lowkey non con here lol) Ransom is a bit of an ass. 
absolutely DO NOT READ if any of the warnings mentioned above make you uncomfortable, or if you are under 18!! That being said, enjoy!!!
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"Ransom!" you yelled, rummaging through the shopping bag he just left on the counter in the kitchen. "We can't afford-" you scoffed, turning a bottle of wine over in your hands. Feeling yourself fume with anger that was threatening to burst out of you at any time, you placed it back on the counter, and started looking for him around the house, "Ransom, where the fuck are you?"
"Will you stop yelling!?" you heard him groan through the wall.
Rolling your eyes and with genuine rage surging through you, you slammed the door open, so hard it hit the wall behind it. "The fuck is wrong with you? You know we're already fucking tight with money, yet you had to go and buy a $200 bottle of wine!?"
Only after the words left your mouth, did you realize what he was doing. When your eyes landed on his computer screen and you saw him playing Spider Solitaire, you felt like you were actually going to fucking hit him.
"It was the cheapest I could find" he joked, without even bothering to turn around and face you.
"I'm serious right now" you sighed, walking over and snatching his hand from the mouse, "Look at me"
And he did. He turned to look at you, with a roll of his eyes and a displeased grin on his lips, "We're doing fine, you have a good job, what the fuck do you want from me?"
"Only the president could fucking keep up with you, Ransom, I can't afford that kind of crap. If you keep that shit up, we'll both end up on the streets!"
"Don't be so dramatic, doll" he chuckled, rubbing his hand up and down your outer thigh. Grabbing a handful of your ass, he pulled you closer, "Stop worrying, we'll figure something out"
"We'd better. Because soon-"
"We will" he stopped you, grabbing even harder. His fingers sunk into your flesh, and your whole attitude changed in an instant, as you went mellow under his touch.
"Ok, then" you sighed, determined to find another way to go about this.
"Kiss me" Ransom smiled, and you obliged in an instant. He went in open mouthed, his tongue finding yours in an instant. You gave in completely, submitting to him like you always do. The way he bit into your lower lip, a tad harder than you would have considered pleasurable, made you moan softly against his lips.
"You adore me, I know" he smiled, pulling away from you. Ransom nodded towards the door, "Now go make us something to eat" he said, and then turned back to his computer, "I was busy with something"
"Busy" you mocked him, walking out of the room.
The next few hours of the day went by as usual. Ransom was hard around the edges, a difficult man to please - and god knows you had to constantly please him in order for him to accept you. But you got the hang of it, it became your routine, and you didn't mind it one bit. After having lunch, he went out to meet with a friend, while you stayed inside, making yourself busy.
When you two started getting more comfortable with one another, every now and then Ransom would insist on choosing what you wore while you were home alone with him. You loved this kink of his - he was doing it to himself, having you dress up all hot and skimpy only to have his dick get hard about 20 minutes later - it was a win-win situation. So now, still in one of the outfits he had chosen for you, and with your makeup perfectly done, you sat on the living room couch, finishing up your nails. A show about some mysterious crime that took place over 20 years ago was playing in the background, when Ransom entered the room.
"How's my favorite girl doing?" he beamed, walking over to you, blocking your view of the TV.
"She's fine" you smiled, actually surprised with how cheery he was being.
"You love me, right?"
"Of course, baby" you giggled, "So much"
"Good" Ransom said, his smile fading. "Put this on-" he added, throwing a small red paper bag into your lap, "And then come into the bedroom"
"Are you only ever nice to me when you want something?" you sighed, watching him as he walked out of the room.
"Don't be ridiculous" he laughed, "If I had to be nice every time I wanted something from you, I'd combust"
For a second, you remained dumbfounded. 'He's an asshole, but he's your asshole and you love him' you told yourself, before gathering the courage to open the bag and peak inside. Black lace. Your mouth fell open as you pulled the lingerie out - there was so little material you barely even realized how it was supposed to go. And those little patches of material? Almost completely transparent. You felt a little bit of anxiety curse though your body, but put on in nonetheless. Feeling entirely naked, you put the robe back on over the lingerie, and headed to the bedroom.
In an instant, you spotted Ransom sitting at his desk, scrolling through his phone. Once he noticed you, he pointed to the bed.
"Take that off and lay down"
Halfheartedly, you listened to him, and then padded over to the bed, wondering what you did wrong. You sat down and leaned back, watching him march up to you.
"Not like this" he said, effortlessly spinning you around to lay on your stomach. "Ass up"
Swallowing thickly, you arched your back and perched your ass up. "What's going on?" you questioned, already getting wet under his hungry stare.
"Shut up, baby" he whispered, groping your thighs and hips. "Stay like this, ok?"
You weren't going to object, but when you felt him distance himself from the bed and walk across the room, your curiosity got the best of you, "Why?"
"Told you something, pet" he threatened, "Keep that sweet little mouth of yours shut. You can do that, can't you?"
"Yeah, ok" you whined.
The anticipation was killing you. The tension between your legs was getting more and more difficult to ignore, and rubbing your thighs together proved futile. A powerful wave of eagerness washed over you when you heard Ransom walk over. You didn't even get to wonder what he was doing, before he slapped your ass hard. You gasped in surprise, but you didn't get a chance to react before he went again. Slap after slap, each growing in intensity against your sensitive skin.
The only thing that interrupted your whines were a few soft moans, as you kicked your legs and squirmed under him, "Fuck-"
"Does it hurt?" Ransom asked, spanking your ass one more time.
"Yes" you cried.
"Good, baby" he hummed, rubbing your inflamed skin. He wasn't as gentle as you wished, his touch burning all the way down to your bones. 
You tried to wiggle away, but he was quick to stop you, "Daddy's not finished with you yet. It has to hurt, ok? You need to be Daddy's good little slut and take it"
"I am" you nodded.
"What are you?" he asked, his smile audible in his tone.
"Daddy's good little slut" you repeated, your own words making the pain between your legs skyrocket.
"That's right, pet. That's why you're gonna take all that Daddy has to give you, even if it hurts, yeah? Daddy always knows better than you" Ransom said. 
You nodded again, bracing yourself for the impact. But it didn't come. Instead you felt him play with your ass, working strong, marron bruises into your skin. As you started to relax and get used to the feeling, he grabbed your underwear and pulled it down your thighs, leaving you completely exposed to him. "You love this, don't you, doll?"
"I do" you squealed, fisting the cotton bed sheets into your palms.
"Such a wet cunt for me" he said, tracing your opening with his pointer finger, "Practically begging for my cock, always fucking ready to be ruined"
You whined, the pressure he was applying only managing to drive you even crazier. "Please-"
"Please what?"
"Please fuck me"
"No, baby" Ransom chuckled, rubbing his hand over the curve of your ass, "Not tonight"
"But Daddy-" you began to protest, but your words were cut short by another spank, this one hitting differently.
With your skin already on fire, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to tears with every slap delivered. Unconsciously, you started to pull away from him, but that didn't stop him in any way. Ransom kept going until he felt you'd had enough, only then stopping. "Good girl" he spoke, leaning down to kiss the skin he had just abused, "You take it so well, baby. You're a gem"
"Thank you, daddy" you moaned, shuffling around the bed. You wanted to wrap your arms around him, but he stopped you again.
"On your knees, baby, c'mon" he commanded, pointing to the fluffy red carpet next to the bed. "Daddy deserves to have his cock sucked, doll, so get to it"
Without even thinking twice, you jumped off the bed and sunk to your knees, hands on his thighs as you looked up at him.
"Always so hungry for my cock" he shook his head, lacing his fingers through your hair, "I'm gonna record you, angel, but don't freak out. Just suck my dick like you do everyday, yeah?"
"Ok"
"And take that bra off, I wanna see your tits"
You obliged in an instant, heart beating out of your chest. When he pulled out his phone and pointed the camera down at your face, you gulped, but then nodded eagerly, big doe eyes trained up at him. Ransom didn't wait any longer before he shuffled out of his jeans, his massive, already hard cock springing out.
Although slightly anxious about having a phone pointed at you, you fought to not let it bother you. Rubbing your hands up and down his length a few times, you looked up at him, licking your lips.
"Open that whore mouth for me, yeah?" Ransom commanded.
As soon as you followed his order, he bent down, spitting on your tongue. With your eyes locked onto the camera, you swallowed and then opened your mouth again.
"Want more, huh?" he laughed, playing with your hair.
"Yes, please!"
"How about you throat my cock first, and then we'll see if you deserve it?"
Without even giving him any kind of approval, you went in, bringing the tip of his cock into your mouth. You sucked wholeheartedly, hollowing your cheeks around his massive member. Bopping your head up and down, you closed your eyes, enjoying the feel of his tip against your tongue. When you felt yourself prepared enough, you pushed yourself further along his cock, allowing it to brush past the back of your throat. Your gag reflex instantly kicked in, but you fought it, remaining in place. 
"That's right, angel-" Ransom grunted, gripping the roots at the top of your head into his hand.
Feeling your oxygen supply run low, you wanted to pull away, but he wasn't having it. He easily controlled your movements, pushing his cock even further down your throat.
"Angel-" he panted, as you struggled against his hold, "You were made to be face fucked"
You had your arms wrapped around his strong thighs, your manicured nails sinking into his skin, hoping you'd get his attention. It didn't work.
By the time he let you go, you had tears running down your cheeks, your mascara almost reaching your chin. You fell backwards, desperate for a breath of air.
"You look better with your makeup like this, love" Ransome laughed, wiping your tears with the back of his fingers, "Suits you"
After regaining your composure, you pushed yourself back up, getting ready to resume your work. However, Ransom had other ideas as he grabbed his member, slowly pumping it in his own hand.
"Tongue out, slut" he said.
You listened to him, and felt a rush of ecstasy course through you when he slapped his cock against your tongue and then your cheeks. His tip was already leaking precum, and you swallowed obediently every drop that landed inside your mouth.
"You want it back?" he asked, grinning.
"Yes"
"Balls first, baby"
Bracing yourself against his thighs, you leaned forward, connecting your lips to the soft skin of his balls. You sucked deeply, applying the kind of pressure you knew would drive him crazy. "Fuck, fuck, yes, come on-" he grunted, bucking his hips into you.
You were nowhere near done when he grabbed your hair again and manhandled you to take his cock down your throat. Your frame fell limply under his hold, as you forced yourself to relax and obey him for as long as you could.
"That’s right-" he moaned, "don't fight it. You know that's my favorite thing about you? The way you worship my dick, you fucking slut"
As he spoke, he forced you deeper down his cock. No matter how hard you tried to resist, you couldn't help but start to squirm around, trying to push him away.
"Don't be a fucking bitch, Y/n" Ransom huffed, keeping you in place, as your throat muscles constricted around his tip, "Just fucking take it"
With a fresh wave of tears streaming down your face, you slapped his thighs frantically, until he finally allowed you to breathe again.
"I'm so fucking close, baby" he grinned, as you panted your lungs away. "Look up at me, I wanna see those that dumb look in your eyes whenever you take my cock"
Mouth agape as you still worked on regulating your breathing, you looked up, right into the camera. "That's it! Yeah, that's my slut, I can see it in your eyes, baby"
If it were up to you, you would have waited more. But Ransom was having none of that. Instead, he grabbed your hair again, this time controlling your movements completely. He forced your mouth along his cock, bopping your head up and down until his hips started shaking and he couldn't take it anymore. Proud with yourself for getting through this without panicking, you leaned back and opened your mouth.
Ransom's grunts and pleasure filled moans filled the room, as his cum started shooting out of his cock. Little droplets ended up inside your mouth and on your lips, and maybe intentionally or by mistake, he shot a few pumps on your cheeks and in your hair. But you remained there, motionless, waiting for his next move.
With the phone still pointed at you, Random used his thumb to gather all the cum you had missed, before shoving his finger into your mouth.
"Always eager to suck on something, aren't you?"
You proudly nodded.
After that he threw his phone on the bed, and helped you up. He instantly went in for a kiss, his arms wrapping around your body to play with your ass while his tongue dominated yours. He owned you completely.
"Go run a bath, baby" Ransom said, slapping your ass, "I'll be right there"
"But.." you hesitated, "What about me?"
"What about you?" he asked, cluelessly.
"I didn't finish…"
"It's early, love" he smiled, kissing your forehead, "Let's take a bath now, and then daddy will take really good care of you, yeah?"
And he did. He kept his word. You jumped in the bathtub about 5 minutes later, settling between his legs. He held you in his arms, kissing all along the curve of your neck, playing with your breasts as he kept telling you about his plan to take over his grandfather's company.
Eventually, with you being your needy self, he had you straddle his hips, as he sunk his cock into your pussy. You went limp against his chest, your pussy every now and then clenching around him as he tickled your sides and played with your ass. When the water started to get cold, all it took for you to finish were a few simple rolls of your hips, Ransom following closely behind, much to your surprise. 
That night, he didn't ask you to cook anything for him, instead just ordering and sharing a pizza. As you waited for it to be delivered, Ransom ate your pussy into oblivion on the kitchen table, joking about how your cunt was the most delicious thing to ever touch that surface.
The following days went by similarly. He was always down to get dirty, but the one thing that was different now was his constant need to film you. With time you got perfectly comfortable with it, putting on a show for him with every chance you got. It was just a matter of time until you barely even noticed it.
One day, as you ran your usual errands, when you stopped by the bank, something caught your eye. You instantly requested the balance, and you almost dropped the piece of paper when you read the numbers. You paid the cashier a polite goodbye, and stormed out of the bank, your phone glued to your ear.
"Pick up, pick up, pick up!!" 
But he didn't.
You rushed home, palms sweaty against the steering wheel. God, you hoped it wasn't what it seemed. What troubled you the most, was that you weren’t even 100% mad. There was some other kind of emotion there, but you pushed it aside. As soon as you reached your house, you stormed inside, bursting into Ransom's office without bothering to knock first. 
And this time, you caught it. For a split second, you managed to see the video open on his computer, before he switched the tab back to Spider Solitaire. 
"You fucking asshole!" you yelled, slamming the piece of paper against his chest, "You sick fuck! You thought I wouldn't notice?"
"Come on, baby" Ransom chuckled, way too relaxed for how enraged you were. He spun his chair around to face you, extending his hand to grab yours, "Relax, I only-"
"You only what?" you interrupted him, "Sold my nudes? Are you insane?"
"Don't talk to me like that-" he threatened, leaning his head to the side, "You know I don't appreciate it"
"And I don't apreciate you posting my sex tapes on the Internet!"
He grinned, "That’s not the same thing"
"Yeah!" you scoffed, throwing your arms into the air, "What you did is so much worse!"
"Careful there, baby" he shook his head.
You wanted to protest again, but he stood up. Ransom took a menacing step towards you, towering over your small frame, the fire in your attitude instantly dying down.
"You don't get to talk to me like that-" he whispered, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip, "But I'll let it slide this time, doll, because that's exactly why I didn't tell you earlier. Wanted to see you panick a bit"
"Ransom…" you whined, "You should've asked"
He shook his head no, "You know I never ask, I just take. You should've considered this when you decided to be mine"
"I would have been into it, but I still wished you had told me" you said softly, too shy now to even look into his eyes.
"We talked about this, you're mine, I make the calls, not you"
"I know, Ransom, but-" you whined, but he grabbed your cheeks between his hands and stopped you.
"But what?"
You blinked a few times, "But nothing, I'm sorry I yelled, you're right"
"Of course I am" he chuckled, kissing your forehead, "See what happens when you worry, baby? Just be a good little girl and do what you're told without whining and bitching around, and everyone will be happy. We don't have to fight if you listen to me"
"I love you" you pouted, pressing yourself against his chest.
"Love you too, pet" he responded, slapping your ass a few times. 
As things finally calmed down, you decided to go change and then return to Ransom's office so he could show you how the page was doing. Just when you were about to walk out the door, he called after you. "Oh, and Y/n?"
"Yes?"
"Love, some of the ideas I've gotten over the past few days where actually requests from our subscribers. Today will be fine, nothing new, but tomorrow we have a threesome. Some dude, Lee Bodecker, handsome guy, make yourself pretty, you'll love him!"
697 notes · View notes
dynyamight · 3 years
Note
bkdk … 12 ? ༼ つ ◕◡◕ ༽つ
12. “I think we need to talk."
The moment Bakugou opened the gym doors, and smelled rain in the air, he knew he had to book it back to the dorms.
Slamming his feet on the pavement floor, he forces himself to run out. His muscles ache all over, and his arms barely want to stay up, pumping at his side. But, he rather try and make his way to his room dry, than have a downpour soak him to his bones.
By the time he reaches to the safe, dry front steps of the dorm building, the rain finally begins. Lightly, the drops splatter slowly to the ground.
Catching his breath, Bakugou stops by the rails, holding onto one side as his muscles cramp. His thighs are burning, and his arms want to fall off entirely. But, he let's his mind focus on the pain.
He's had a rough fucking week, and for once, his mind was elsewhere.
“It’s starting to rain now, isn’t it.”
Bakugou jolts, quickly facing up to that familiar voice. That voice that haunts his dreams, ingrained deep into his mind. That voice that makes his heart race just a little quicker. That voice, from the one and only.
That forgetful nerd.
“Ah, sorry! I didn’t mean to spook you.’ Midoriya says quickly, offering an apologetic smile. He’s sitting on the front porch, holding onto a book close to his chest. “You probably thought you were the only one out here, right?”
“..You don’t have to apologize.” He breathes out. Despite the haywire of his nerves, exploding his insides, the words roll off his tongue easily. It's oddly the same phrase he's used each time they've met. "S'not like you personally screwed me over."
"Ah, my bad—"
"What did I just say."
“I—" Midoriya weakly chuckles, shaking his curls. "I guess I can't help it. I promise I won't forget.”
No matter how many times Bakugou hears that, it always sounds so genuine, so real. Rather than an empty promise. "I'll hold you to it, Deku." He mutters, regardless.
"What does that—" A light shines through Midoriya's gaze, and immediately he smiles. "Wait, you know what. I swear that's not the first time someone has said that to me. Deku."
Chills run down Bakugou’s spine. That's never happened. He's never slipped up. Fuck. “..Really?”
“Yeah, it sounds so familiar. But, I don’t remember exactly where I've heard it before.”
Both disappointment and relief flood his whole entire body. He doesn’t know what he would do if Midoriya would remember all his terrible attempts, though a part of him did yearn for recognition.
However, maybe it was for the best. Give them a fresh start, every time. Fucking hip hip hurray.
Hell, maybe this was the world's way of sending him all the karma that he has built up. It decided to pick the one person he deeply cares about, and make both of them suffer.
Bakugou looks back at the book Midoriya held, something in his mind reminding him about one of the first talks since the incident. “Is that Catch-22?” Bakugou asks, pointing it out.
It takes a moment for the question to visibly register through Midoriya's brain. But, when it does, Bakugou can tell by the way Midoriya’s eyes widen and the wide grin on his face that grows, “You've read it?”
“Nah, just heard about it. A lot.” He doesn’t need to explain himself further.
Leaving his seat off the bench, Midoriya rushes up to Bakugou’s face, eagerly leaning in. “I highly recommend it! It’s a literature masterpiece, the best of its genre!”
For a moment, Midoriya looks up to Bakugou’s gaze, eyes bright in interest. However, the next second, he looks away, with a feeble laugh as he scratches the side of his head nervously. “In my humble, personal opinion, of course..”
“What does it even mean?” Bakugou asks instead, holding tight to their conversation. He refuses to let it go for even a second. “Catch-22.”
“Oh. Uhh, the best way I can describe it,” Midoriya lifts his chin in thought. His gaze drifts up, as if he was wracking through his brain like it were a couple of shelves, “is that it's a dilemma from which someone cannot escape from, because of a set of contradictory rules.”
Bakugou scoffs. “Give an example. I’m too fucking tired to decipher whatever the fuck you just said.”
“Okay, okay!" Midoriya laughs, "It’s like job applications. How can you gain any experience for a job, unless you get a job that gives you experience?”
“Like, how in order to apply for a loan, you have to prove to the bank that you don’t need one?”
“Yes! Exactly that.”
“That shit has a name?”
“They’re hard to find, but even in everyday life, we can find ourselves in our own catch-22’s without realizing it! Isn’t that crazy? For all we know, life itself could be one!” Midoriya rambles, growing louder and louder, to the point Bakugou swears he can hear his voice echo.
Though, Bakugou doesn’t mind. This alone is possibly the most Midoriya has said to him, with all encounters combined.
Surprisingly, a blush forms over Midoriya’s cheeks. “I didn’t mean to babble on like that.”
“How do you get someone to remember you,” Bakugou starts, before he can stop himself from asking, “when they keep forgetting who you are every time?”
Midoriya stares.
Quickly, Bakugou coughs, “Ain't that a catch-22?”
For a small moment, all he can hear is the rain, pattering down the pavement around them. But, then, Midoriya hums, tilting his head, lips pursed. “Yeah, it most definitely is. Though, I've never heard of that one, before.”
"Yeah well," Bakugou shoves his sweating hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “That’s the fucking dumpster fire I’m in.”
“With all respect, does your person have medical reasons why they keep forgetting?” Midoriya asks slowly, immediate concern filling his expression.
“Not that I know of." Bakugou admits, "But, I wouldn’t put it past them. Or, they might be plain stupid.”
“That's rude!" However, the accusation sounds fairly weak, when Midoriya's chuckling.
He feels the corners of his lips upturning. "What's 'rude' is the damn bastard not remembering anything, other than random, trivial shit." Bakugou huffs. "Which changes, daily."
"And, you say nothing works? Not even telling them?"
"Yeah. 'Cause they'll fucking forget the next day."
"Have they ever wrote about you?”
Bakugou does a double take. When did Midoriya ever— “Wrote about me?”
Nodding, Midoriya gestures behind him, to the backpack beside the bench. “Personally, I've been using lots of sticky notes, planners, and journals to jot down things I need to remember.”
“Again, my memory's a bit distorted, so in order to tell my future self what I need to know, I write it out for me to read, the next day. Maybe that’ll work for your person?”
Writing. So that the next Midoriya can read it and remember. “..Would it work, if I wrote it?"
Midoriya furrows his brows. "I think it would be better if the person wrote it out for themselves. You know, so that it helps to jog their memory."
Suppressing the immediate heart drop he feels in the pit of his stomach, Bakugou exhales a big sigh. "There's a lot of shit the fucker needs to remember. His purpose. His quirk. His dream. Lots of important shit."
"Why not start with you?" Midoriya smiles, reassuringly. "They're bound to have a diary entry all about you."
Immediately, Bakugou's irked. "I ain't writing material."
"I think you are. Good writing material." Midoriya confesses, never letting that dopey, wobbly smile drop, "I don't know your name, but everything about you is unforgettable, to say the least. I bet even someone like me will recognize you next time."
But, you don't. Bakugou thinks, feeling the tug at his heart tighten, choking him from the inside. You never do.
From the pocket of his gym shorts, Bakugou starts feeling his phone vibrate, before it rings. Despite that, Midoriya's jump causes him to be just as startled.
Rubbing a hand to his neck, Midoriya weakly chuckles, "Sad. We were just starting to get to know each other."
Bakugou doesn't respond.
'ALL MIGHT.' The caller ID states in bold letters.
"I gotta go." Bakugou states firmly, holding tightly around his phone. "I need to take this call."
Midoriya's smile fades, but quickly it's picked up. "Yeah, no worries. I've probably been keeping you outside for too long."
Bakugou curtly nods, "You have."
And yet, even when the ringing persists, loudly telling him to walk away, leave, he stays. Because, Midoriya just looks like he doesn't want him to go.
He doesn't want to go, either.
"I never got your name." Midoriya mentions quietly.
Why would I give it, if you won't even remember?
Yet, that freckled, doey eyed face Midoriya's got never brings out the rationale, spiteful side of him out. Because, no matter how many times he has to say it, he'll do it again, and again. In a heartbeat.
"Just call me Kacchan."
Visibly, Midoriya's taken aback. Though, with the phone call on its last few rings, he finally steps off to the side, giving Bakugou space to walk.
"I'll see you around then," Midoriya waves off to him, "Kacchan."
A personal hell. Bakugou's living his personal hell.
When he walks inside the dorm building, the emotions suddenly hit him hard. Every day, he has to keep putting up with this crap.
Midoriya greeting him, talking to him, and saying goodbye, like a damn fucking stranger.
It kills him, eating away at his brain, knowing Midoriya's unable to look at him, and see nothing, but a stranger staring back.
When looking at Midoriya meant the world to him.
With a swift thumb swipe, Bakugou slides the phone call open. He clears his throat. "What now old man."
"I think we need to talk." All Might's voice crackles. "Privately. The sooner, the better. It's about the quirk that's been affecting young Midoriya."
His entire body tenses, halting him still. "..What about it.."
All Might sighs, long and tired. "The authorities found some intel about the culprit behind the memory loss. And, well.."
"Well, what?" Bakugou snaps.
"Midoriya's in deeper trouble, than we thought."
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satoruseme · 3 years
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pls pls pls do 98 with connie 🦉
connie + “i never thought i’d hear you say that, fuck, that’s hot”
smut
1.3k words
drabble my ass, this shits literally a one shot bye
your best friend connie had decided to show up early to your study session that was being hosted at your apartment. he had called, text and knocked on ur door for about 10 minutes in the blistering summer heat before remembering your spare key underneath your door mat. maybe you were taking a nap.
he stepped into your apartment, sighing as the cold air hit his hot skin. he made his way up the stairs and toward your bedroom, freezing when he heard what must have been the reason you hadn’t answered his advances to come into your apartment.
“mh- fuck- connie”
that was his name. and you were moaning it.
there was soft music playing in the background and he could hear the slight buzz of your vibrator going at full speed. the whines and whimpers that were leaving your mouth, mixed with his name, were going straight to his dick.
his hand hovered over the doorknob for what seemed like an hour before he mustered up his courage and twisted the knob. he figured there wasn’t anything to fear, you obviously wanted him.
the reaction you gave him however, was not what he expected.
you jumped, a little startled at first of course, before realizing it was him. you spread your legs back to the position they were in before; wide open. connie watched for a minute as you continued attacking your clit with the vibrator, moaning his name while keeping direct eye contact with him.
the tent in his pants was very obvious at this point, and you knew you would probably get what you wanted. he couldn’t stop staring at your center, basically drooling at the glistening folds. he was enjoying the show, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out.
you shoved the vibrator inside of you, letting out a moan as it hit a particularly deep spot. connie let out a low groan, grabbing the waistband of his sweatpants and adjusting it, trying to relieve some of the pressure it was creating.
“just take them off” you instructed, basking in the way his eyes grew wide.
“w-what, i-i don’t know if thats-“
“connie, please, i want you to fuck me” you whined, pulling the vibrator out and rubbing through your folds again.
he groaned out loud at your words, “i never thought i’d hear you say that, fuck, that’s hot”. he made his way over to you and climbed onto the bed, hovering over top of you. all of his past nervousness was gone, he could only think with his dick at this point.
he crashed his lips onto yours, kissing you aggressively as he connected the back of his finger to your collarbone. the moans you were spiling into his mouth were angelic as you continued to use your vibrator against yourself. he dragged his finger down your body until he reached your other hand that was wrapped around the toy, replacing it with his own.
“are you sure you need me to fuck you? seems like this thing is doing a fine job” he teased, speaking against your lips as he applied more pressure to the toy.
“nonono please, i need you, i need you” you pleaded, hoping his dick would be inside of you soon. if he wasn’t slamming himself against your cervix in t minus 2 minutes, you were going to lose it.
after that, connie knew he couln’t wait any longer. if you begged for him, he was putty in your hands and there was no going back.
he turned off the vibrator and threw it to the other side of the bed. while he did this, you put one hand behind his neck, taking advantage of his head being turned to the side to press your lips to his neck, sucking and biting at the spot. you used your other hand to trace down his chest until you made your way past the band of his sweats, palming him over his boxers.
he grunted at the contact, turning his attention back to you quickly and biting down on the skin right below your collarbone. you bucked your hips up into his as a reaction to his bites, whining at the fact that it was taking him so long to just fuck you already.
“connie, please” you whined, removing your hand from his pants and wrapping both around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. he kissed you quite aggresively this time, shoving his tongue into your mouth as you followed and did the same.
he put his hand in his own pants, pulling out his cock in one fluid motion. you let out a gasp as you looked down at it. you knew it was big, but you didn’t realize it was massive.
he reconnecting his lips with yours, lining himself up with your entrance and slowly pushing into you. yeah, he was massive. you had prepped yourself plenty, but it still wasn’t enough to stop the stinging that you felt spread throughout your lower body as he bottomed out.
“it’s so fucking big, ah” you moaned out.
“fuck- can you take it, baby?” he asked, keeping his hips still as he placed soft kisses down your jawline and neck.
“yes, i want it, please”
that was enough encouragement for him to resume his hip movement, slowly gliding in and out of you as he let you adjust. the pain didn’t last long, and with every brush of his cock against your cervix had you whimpering for him.
he brought his thumb down to your clit and began making circles, causing you to let out even more noises as he continued to fuck in and out of you. you were already so close thanks to your vibrator and you knew you wouldn’t last very long.
he sped up his pace, sitting up on his knees and hooking his hand under one of your knees, bringing your leg up and giving himself a better view of the hot sight.
“fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good, your pretty pussy wrapped around my cock, so good for me” he whined out multiple praises, each one sending you closer to the edge.
“you’re gonna make me cum, fuck” he was hitting the perfect spot inside of you, drilling into it with each thrust. he was getting close too, you could tell by the way he sped up, his thrusts becoming sloppy and less accurately aimed.
“cum all over my cock, princess, i wanna feel you cum around me” he groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure before looking back down at your face. he took in every one of your facial expressions as his words were all you needed for you to completely let go.
he slowed down as he felt your walls contract around him, practically screaming out his name along with multiple profanities as you had one of the best orgasms you had ever had in your life.
this was all he needed for his realease, the sight of you underneath him, your back arching as you yelled out his name and your pretty pussy clenching tightly around him. he continued fucking you with just the tip for about 3 more thrusts before he pulled out completely, shooting hot white ropes onto your stomach. he groaned out multiple “fucks” as he rubbed himself through his orgasm.
he looked down at you, thinking about how pretty you looked. your makeup smudged and a thin film of sweat on your forehead.
“fuck, i really never thought i’d get to do that, it was really hot” he admitted, running his hands up and down the inside of your thighs.
you giggled and pulled him back down to you, pressing your lips against his before pushing him down onto the bed and climbing on top of him.
“i’ll be on top this time”
prompt list !!!
masterlist
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