｡✧ finding icky!nerdjo with your missing panties✧｡
Summary: Satoru Gojo ever since starting university has been your nerdy roommate bff who folds your laundry, cuddles you during movie nights, and keeps to himself. Never asking for anything. But behind closed doors he’s been hopelessly in love with you since childhood. The last thing he expected was for that illusion to be shattered when you catch him gagging himself with your panties!
Content warning: porn w/no plot, obsessive and possessive behavior, stalking tendencies, voyeuristic thoughts, masturbation, panty theft, s*kuna, jealousy, emotional manipulation, oral (fem!recieving,) friends to lovers, roommates to lovers
18+
Satoru Gojo was the kind of guy who blended into the background. At nineteen, in your little shared apartment, he was the epitome of the nerdy roommate. Blocky glasses perpetually slipping down his nose, messy white hair that he never bothered to style, and a wardrobe full of hoodies, jeans, and graphic t-shirts he often layered over a long-sleeved undershirt. But beneath his unassuming exterior, Satoru was harboring a bottomless desire for you. Ever since first grade, when you'd plopped down next to him on the playground sandbox and declared him your best friend, you had effectively won over his entire being.
You'd grown up together, inseparable through elementary school awkwardness and the chaos of high school. While you blossomed into the popular girl everyone wanted cheer squad captain one semester, marching band the next, Satoru stayed in the shadows, content with stolen glances and the warmth of your casual affections. You'd kiss his cheek goodbye after sleepovers at his family's place and curled up against him during movie nights. His mom adored you, calling you the daughter she never had, baking cookies for your visits. As for Satoru himself, he loved you in a way that twisted his guts, obsessive, all-consuming, the kind of love that made him ache at night.
Now in college, you shared this cheap two-bedroom place to save money. Satoru seemed like the ideal roommate. He did all the chores without whining, especially the laundry. He folded everything so neatly. He would leave the apartment whenever you had guys over, saying he had to study at the library. It gave you privacy.
But that wasn’t the full story. The laundry let him sneak into your dirty clothes. He would grab your panties from the hamper, the ones that still smelled like you. Musky and sweet, it drove him crazy. He kept a secret stash under his bed in a box. He would breathe them in deep until his dick got hard. Then he wrapped them around his hand and stroked himself, pretending it was your pussy gripping him tight through the flimsy fabric.
Now, you’d been seeing guys lately, and Satoru couldn't fucking stand that! Sukuna was the worst. That big tattooed guy you hooked up with sometimes. Satoru hated how that prick touched you, his rough hands on your hips in front of everyone. How you'd would come back to the apartment all flushed, your lips looking kissed too much.
Those should have been Satoru's kisses.
He would listen through the walls at night. The sounds of Sukuna fucking you, his grunts and your moans, it killed him. But he just couldn’t stop! His hand would move fast on his cock, imagining it was him inside you, making you cry out his name. He pounded into you in his head, owning you completely. He knew you inside out. He knew how you laughed at dumb jokes, how you stole all the blankets, absolutely everything about you. Sukuna was nothing, just a stand-in for what Satoru could give you if he had the guts.
Your panties started vanishing more often lately. You mentioned it at breakfast one morning, digging through your drawer with a frown.
“Toru, I don’t know what is going on,” you sighed, sounding confused more than concerned. “They keep disappearing. I bought a new pack yesterday because I keep misplacing them it seems.”
Satoru nodded, acting all sympathetic, but his heart raced. He’d taken your new favorites already. Those pink lacy ones with the little bow. They were still warm when he swiped them too! He just couldn’t resist. You were his everything, his pretty girl, and those stolen pieces let him feel close to you in a way he never dared otherwise. Plus, it’s not like that fratboy-loser Sukuna ever needed to see you in those!
That afternoon, you were out doing errands. Satoru locked his bedroom door and pulled out the pink panties. The cotton felt so soft in his hand, still holding a hint of your scent from when you wore them last. He kicked off his sweats and shoved his boxers down to his knees. His cock bounced free, long and thick, the veins standing out as it throbbed. A drop of precum sat at the tip, shiny and ready. He pressed the fabric to his nose and breathed in hard.
“Oh fuck, baby,” he whined to the empty room, his voice needy and low. “Y’smell amazing. So sweet, like y’re just f’me, yeah?” His tongue slipped out, licking the spot where your wet cunt had been, tasting the salt and the faint tang that made his mouth water.
He shoved the panties into his mouth next, gagging himself to keep quiet. The taste filled him up, and he let out a muffled whine. Satoru dropped back onto his bed, legs spread wide, knees up. One hand wrapped around his cock, squeezing the base before sliding up slow. The skin pulled tight over the head, and he hissed at the friction. He thought about you, how your thighs would feel around his face, soft and warm.
“Wanted this for so long!” he moaned around the cloth, the words coming out sloppy. “Y’re mine, pretty girl….N-not for that asshole Sukuna or anyone. I would fuck you right….s’good…make you feel full until you scream!”
His hand picked up speed, stroking from root to tip with a twist at the top. Precum slicked the way, making each pump louder, wetter. His hips lifted off the mattress, thrusting into his fist like it was you. He pictured you on your knees, mouth open, begging. 'Please, Toru, give it to me nowww.' His other hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently, feeling them draw up tight. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his glasses getting foggy from the heat. He bit down on the panties, tasting more of you, and his strokes got frantic.
“Gonna fill ya up, baby. Pump you so full of my cum, watch it leak out….H-hah… love you too much, it fucking hurts sometimes….needa taste ya, need to be inside.” He edged himself, slowing down when he got close, dragging out the build. His free hand roamed up his shirt, pinching his nipple hard enough to sting. The pain mixed with the pleasure, making his cock jump in his grip. He imagined your nails on his back, scratching as he rutted deep.
“Yeah, like that…Take it all, my good girl!” Faster now, the bed creaking under him, his breaths coming in pants around the gag. His balls ached, the pressure coiling low in his gut. He was so close, vision blurring, lost in the fantasy of you clenching around him.
The door pushed open without a knock.
You stood there, eyes going wide as you took it in. Satoru on his bed, hand on his dick, your pink panties stuffed in his mouth. The air was thick with the smell of his arousal, his face red and sweaty behind the glasses. Fear hit him hard. He grabbed the blanket and threw it over his lap, pulling the fabric out with a gasp. Words spilled out in a panic. “W-wait! I swear…it’s not what it looks like. Shit, I’m so sorry. Please do not hate me…I love ya, okay? I couldn’t help it! I just-mmmh”
You walked right over, hands on his face, and despite his initial fears, kissed him deep. Your tongue pushed in, tasting him back, like you had waited forever. Satoru went still for a second, then grabbed your waist, holding on tight. You broke away just a bit, whispering against his lips.
“I thought you didn’t see me that way Satoru, I’ve always wanted you more than anyone... But we’ve always been just friends…y’never show interest in me…”
Joy flooded him, making his chest tight. His dick pulsed under the blanket, still hard and leaking. “You mean that!?' he asked, voice shaky, eyes wet. “Fuck! I have been miserable without you. Obsessed everyday. Thinking about your skin, your taste, everything. I want you so bad…”
You grinned, a mix of soft and naughty, and nudged him down onto the pillows. “Y’wanna prove it to me, Toru?” You stripped quick, shirt off, pants gone, bra unbuckled, until you were naked on his bed. Legs open wide, your pussy on display. All syrupy with your clit swollen and ready. Satoru stared, then leaned in hungri.
His lips hit your clit first, sucking with just the right pressure. His tongue swirled fast, making your hips buck. “A-aah, Satoru!” you gasped, fingers in his hair, tugging him in. He acted like he owned the place down there, years of dreams guiding him. He licked into your hole, tongue fucking you shallow, slurping up your juices loud and messy. “Y’taste incredible,” he cooed, the words buzzing against you. One hand held your thigh back, the other pushed two fingers inside, curling to rub that deep spot.
He didn’t let up, fingers thrusting with slick sounds, mouth switching to lap your folds then back to your clit. You squeezed around him, wetness coating his hand, dripping everywhere. “C’mon pretty girl,” he urged, voice low. “Cum on m’tongue…dreamed of this so long! Your tight pussy, all for me, yeah?!” His thumb pressed at your entrance with his fingers, opening you a little more, hinting at what he wanted next.
It hit you quick, body tensing, breaths short.
“Nngh, s’close Toru, g’na cum now!” You whined out before eventually your walls were pulsing. Flooding his mouth with your release. He kept going, swallowing it all, moaning as your legs shook, gripping the sheets for dear life.
But it wasn’t over. You pulled him up, kissing him again, tasting yourself on his lips. “That was amazing,” you said softly, hands sliding down to feel the mess. “Y’came without me even touching you?” He nodded, embarrassed but smiling. “Couldn’t help it, sweet girl. Really meant it when I said you’re everything t’me…”
The build was slower, deeper, your hands fisting the sheets. He watched you the whole time, eyes locked on your face, like he was memorizing every gasp. “You’re so beautiful like this,' he murmured. “All tired and needy f’me…yeah? Still wanna get stuffed by m’cock now?”
He crawled up, blanket kicked away, his soaked boxers clinging. You tugged them down, his cock springing out, still half-hard and messy “Wan you…inside…” you pleaded, “love you so much Toru…c-can I-” Satoru kissed you quiet. Before nodding his head shyly. “C-course…anything for you, yeah?” He lined up, rubbing the head against your slit, coating himself in you. Then he pushed in slow, inch by inch, both of you moaning at the stretch.
He filled you perfect, like he belonged. Hips rocking gentle at first, building to deep thrusts. “Love ya,” he whispered with each one. “Always have, sooo fucking much!” You wrapped legs around him, meeting every move. It was not rushed, just right, sealing years of waiting.
When he came again, it was with you clenching around him, both lost in it. Afterward, he held you close, no more secrets between you. He didn’t know how he got so lucky.
This is not the mean nerdjo I promised but I started this Friday and finished so I thought I’d share it as a surprise
the other one will be out eventually but I got a request I gotta do some research for and a Nobara oneshot and yada yada yada
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Summary: Part Two of You dont know my name, This is basically part one in camerons POV
Content Warnings: None, Cameron is equally as obsessed
W/C:1.7k
A/N: This is my first time writing the opposite POV, let me know what you guys think. I suggest reading Part one for the full context of their conversation, this is just Cameorns thoughts.
Inspired by(This had been on loop its such a good song):
It started as a recommendation from one of the guys on the team. They mentioned the diner on campus tucked away, quiet, good coffee, no one bothered you and that was enough for me.
I just needed a place to get a coffee in between classes and on days off. I hadn’t expected to end up with a slight obsession with the waitress there.
It was two months ago when I first saw her. I had sat down just needing a coffee and some space to work.
Her voice registered before anything else. It was soft and felt familiar even though I had never met her before. It was like the pressure from classes and football lifted from my shoulders. I glanced at her and immediately tore my eyes away. I was a thousand percent sure that was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.
Girls were never a problem for me particularly, I just knew better than to add anything complicated onto my already full plate.
People talked , how "Cameron Cade was a player and switched from girl to girl.” And maybe they were partially true there were some here and there but I wasn’t half of the whore the campus thought of me.
I stayed to myself for the most part. I could recognize a pretty girl when I saw one but it was easier this way. Less distractions and less expectations from others.
A girlfriend wasn't exactly at the forefront of my mind. Until her.
After muttering my order, a black coffee, I tried to busy myself with work but it was impossible when I knew she was around.
Whenever her back was turned or she was too busy to pay attention I was looking. There was something calming in how fluidly she moved through the space. How bright her smile was and how sweet her voice was.
I made sure to look away in time so I didn’t seem like a creep with a staring problem. She would always try to make small talk but it’s like all basic social skills were out the window when she came around.
I tried to flash a smile when I could remember how to work my face and say thank you whenever she would refill my coffee. I wasn’t trying to come off rude, hopefully she didn’t see me that way.
The feelings she produced out of me were foreign. When I decided I wanted to entertain attention from a woman it usually came easy. Most of the time they were already interested and I didn’t have to work much.
Something made me not even want to try and make an advance at her. She seems out my league, I wouldn’t risk fucking up anything.
The diner was peaceful and the spot I found allowed me to stay out the way long enough to get something done unbothered, at least when I could tear my eyes away from her to focus on my work.
It was just a plus the girl serving me coffee was out of this world gorgeous.
After an hour of multitasking assignment and staring, I left a tip and left. She more than deserved it, I was definitely satisfied with my visit and would be returning very soon.
It started off pretty tame, I would come by the diner on any off day I had and that wasn’t very often. At least not as often as I wanted too.
Our interactions never went beyond simple, ‘hello’s’ and ‘the usual?’. It was a shame I didn’t have any classes with her. I wondered what her major was.
We had never crossed paths before the diner and I was invested in learning more about her. All I knew was her name from her name tag.
First it was a coincidence, seeing her across the quad with a group of friends. That led to having conversations with those same people at a party and learning more of you through their intoxicated oversharing.
Their friend who didn’t come out to party because of homework.
‘She’s has a stem major, if she’s not working she’s studying’
She was beautiful and smart.
Next, I saw her in the dining hall. She was alone and oblivious enough to not check if anyone was looking at her. Head down in her own world.
I went the next day at the same time and she was there again. It became a routine. I hadn’t known her full schedule yet but from what I picked up, she worked afternoons during the school week and worked early on weekends. That worked well with my schedule so I was able to pop it at her job and see her.
It’s not like I just went for her, I would get work done. And I wasn’t stalking her at the quad. I just knew when she would be there and decided to sit where she would pass me.
I tried to rationalize myself going out of my way to see her. It was probably starting to borderline stalker-ish. But it was worth it. The little time I could see her even if we didn’t talk much.
Part of it being my fault because I was too scared to speak. I wasn’t sure what I was afraid of. Maybe it was the fact that most interactions I had with a woman were usually quick and for one reason. I never really did the lovey stuff. I guess I never found the right person I wanted to try it with. She felt close but I wouldn’t make her an experiment in my love life.
So watching her would have to be enough.
————
That leads me to today. It's been two months of acting like her shadow and I was used to the schedule. But after the day I had I needed to see her.
I overslept, missing my first class of the day and a test which my professor wouldn't allow a retake.
After that it was pretty smoothe sailing, until later.
At practice, the coach didn’t let anything slide. If I was off a second on anything he was on my ass. It dragged out an hour later than usual.
Not to mention the call from home, my mom reminding me that they are all back home and miss me. That they’re rooting for me.
Truth is sometimes I didn’t even want to play anymore. Being QB is nice but it has been my dads passion longer than mine, buy i coudn't let them down.
No one understood though.
I just needed some calm after the shit show that was today. That's how I ended up at the diner. It was late and they were about to close but I just needed to see her. The thought of having to wait till Wednesday for time to see her didn’t appeal to me at all.
I’d just stop by before closing and go simple.
I entered, there she was with her back turned, she spoke reminding me that they closed soon.
Her voice made me regret coming just a bit, I could tell she was tired and the last thing she wanted to do was help another person tonight.
“I’m sorry, I’ll be quick” I managed, taking a seat at the counter.
It was just us from what I could see.
She beckoned me to take a seat, she seemed far away in thought. Her back was to me again as she put on some coffee.
I loved watching her, something about her I couldn’t place. I can’t even say what I'd give to know what she was thinking.
She placed my coffee down not even needing to be reminded of what I liked. I was aware a plain black coffee wasn’t hard to remember but I’m sure she helps many people a day but the fact she reminded me at least my order meant something.
She turned back away, my voice was caught, I wanted to say something but didn’t know what.
“You always know my order.”
That was good right? A good conversation started.
“Um ... .yeah you come in a lot.” She said dismissively.
“I didn’t know it was noticeable” I tried to laugh it off.
“It is kind of my job to notice things like that.” She let out a quiet laugh.
She was right, it was her job. Nothing not special.
I’m not sure why I thought otherwise. This fucked up obsession is just in head and she has no idea how I feel and probably thinks I’m a creep.
“You’re here later than usual.” She observed. Her voice as soft as honey.
My head lifted a little. She noticed. Maybe I’m not as delusional.
It was her job dumbass. Of course.
After that the conversations didn’t last long.
She asked me about my day. This was all new, I was never able to get past simple greetings and now we were having a full conversation and she seemed genuinely interested. She made me feel like I could be vulnerable.
I didn’t feel that often.
And of course she was a good listener, something else to add to the growing list of positive qualities she possessed.
We talked back and forth for what felt like forever. Maybe it was because I didn't want the moment to end.
Smiled on our face as we sat in a comfortable silence once all was and and done.
She reminded me that it was closing time and that brought me out of my trance. All the weight I came there with felt lifted even if it was only going to last for a little.
“I’ll see you soon?” She asked me, was that hope I heard in her voice or was I tripping?
“For sure” I nodded as I gave her a smile and exited.
I tried to be nonchalant knowing that my hands were clammy from how nervous I was, hopefully she couldn’t tell.
I left the diner walking to my car trying to not jump in joy. Did the idea of seeing her again do as much to her as it did me.
I had to convince myself not to make the days I go to the diner on my schedule because I felt like I was doing too much.
All I could think of as I drove home was what my next move would be to make her mind.
Fuck all the talk about leaving her alone. That was done. She would know how I felt one way or another.
Tags: Black reader-based (anyone can read!!), feminine reader, nickname usage, no use of y/n, established relationship, (slight age gap! 50 year old Jack, 35 year old Reader), implied nsfw.
Gf!Mira loves to see you flustered. She’s a tall girlie so when you’re talking she likes to lean in pretending she didn’t hear you to watch you blush, and when you call her out she pretends she hasn’t done anything.
Gf!Mira who is an incredible performer, when she’s on stage her voice is strong and her dance moves are sharp, but off stage she’s this big ol’ softie with oversized pajamas who melts in your arms. “Babe I’m cold!” She whines inching closer squeezing herself in your arms.
Gf!Mira who’s not the type to open up so easily, due to her not being accepted by her family. So when you two started dating she was very cautious with how she acted around you, but when you showed her you’d accept her flaws and all she was more than happy to express herself
Gf!Mira who has a private playlist of all the songs that reminds her of you, she won’t admit it unless you found it…she probably still won’t admit it.
Gf!Mira who loves loves LOVES when you play in her hair. It’s the only way she can go to sleep now. If you stop she’ll blindly search for your hand and plop it right back on her head.
Gf!Mira who doesn’t get jealous easily… so she says. But if someone is pushing their limits or continuously flirting she’ll stare at them until they get the hint.
“That wasn’t nice Mimi.” She shrugs, “don’t care.”
Gf!Mira who pretends to hate the nicknames you give her. “I think mimi is cuuute, why don’t you like it?” She rolls her eyes, “it sounds like someone grandma.”
It grows on her though, and it’s not like she doesn’t have corny nicknames for you, she calls you squishy. She says its cause of your cheeks but when you asked her which ones she just looks at you and smirks.
Gf!Mira who is this cool, confident mysterious person on stage but off stage she’s talking about her plants and sending you chaotic 3am voice notes.
Gf!Mira Who’s always the last one in the studio or practice room so late you have to either drag her out or just bring snacks and join her.
Gf!Mira whose love language is surprisingly physical touch. She love’s receiving and giving forehead kisses, her hand always finds itself on your thigh, and she always has to hold your hand when you’re out. but what really makes her heart melt is words of affirmation, if you ever tell her she’s done a good job today and she can relax she would have to stop herself from sobbing.
Gf!Mira who says you are her peace. Anytime she’s feeling anxious or the idol life is getting too much for her she calls you just to hear your voice. She says it better than any song.
Gf!Mira who’s incredibly flirty, especially at home. She’s always kissing you on the cheek, or resting her hands on your butt. She’ll say something sly like “If I kissed you would you kiss me back?” Cue you giggling and snorting like a school girl.
summary: Remus is known for not being the most vocal when it comes to displays of affection, but for some reason, whenever he smokes, his walls come down, and he becomes more prone to PDA than anyone expects.
pairing: Remus Lupin x f!reader
warnings: drug consumption (weed), smut, sexual acts whilst under the influence, p in v, unprotected sex, the boys are overly comfortable with being pervs, said loosely.
note: Part 2 to Higher than Heaven. I do not condone the use of any drugs; this is solely a work of fiction.
word count: 3345
Part one // Part two
Remus didn't usually lose track of things.
Not time.
Not space.
Definitely not people.
And yet —
Somewhere between your hands in his hair and the way his fingers had spread warm and firm against your back, everything else had just... sort of dropped away from his head.
The noises in the corridor. The music playing from the speaker. The fact that his three best friends existed at all.
Gone.
All of it.
He kissed you like he'd been holding it in for far too long — not rushed, not careless, but intentional. Like every small shift of his hands, every tilt of his head, had weight behind it.
And you?
You weren't helping.
Remus wasn't even pretending anymore.
That was the first thing you noticed, properly noticed, once the door had slammed shut behind Sirius, James and Peter.
The shift.
Because whatever restraint he usually clung to like a lifeline was gone. Completely.
His hands hadn't left you. Not when they walked out. Not when the laughter faded down the corridor. Not even when the room fell quiet again.
If anything, his grip had only tightened.
"Remus," you breathed, your hands still tangled in his hair, your body pressed so close to his, you could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest.
"Mm?" His voice was low, roughened — barely there against your mouth.
"You're–"
You didn't finish.
Because his hand slid —slowly, deliberately— up your back again, fingers pressing in just enough to make your breath hitch. Not accidental. Not teasing anymore.
Certain.
And he felt it.
The reaction.
His head dipped, lips brushing yours again, slower this time, like he was dragging it out on purpose, like he'd come to the realisation he could.
Like he liked it.
"You were saying?" he murmured against your lips.
Your fingers tightened slightly in his hair. "You're not acting like yourself."
"Yeah," he said quietly.
No denial.
No deflection.
Just that.
And then he kissed you again.
Deeper.
His hand at your waist pulled you flush against him, leaving no space, no room to pretend this was anything but intentional. You exhaled sharply against his mouth, your grip on him tightening in response. And that was all it took.
A low, quiet sound slipped out of him.
Not loud.
But felt.
Your stomach flipped.
"Remus–" you tried again, but it dissolved when his lips moved against yours more firmly this time, less careful, his control slipping in slow, noticeable increments.
Every touch lingered.
Every moment meant something.
Like he'd been holding back far too long.
His hand shifted again, higher, firmer, and you leaned into it without thinking.
That seemed to undo him completely.
His breathing changed, deeper now, less steady. And for a moment, he pulled back just enough to look at you.
Really look at you.
Like he was trying to memorise it.
"You always let me stop," he said, voice low, rough at the edges.
You swallowed, your chest rising a little faster now. "You always do."
"Yeah."
A pause.
His thumb dragged slowly along your side, deliberate enough that it made your breath hitch again. "Don't think I want to."
That landed somewhere deep.
"Then don't," you whisper back softly. And that was it. Whatever line he'd been hovering on before was gone.
His hand slid firmly to your back, pulling you into him again as his mouth found yours, this time without hesitation. No testing, no careful pacing — just something heavier, more certain, like he'd finally decided to stop holding himself back and didn't quite know how to do it halfway.
Your hands moved without permission, one still in his hair, the other sliding down to his shoulder, gripping slightly as you steadied yourself against him.
The kiss reignited with that unyielding certainty, Remus's lips claiming yours in a way that sent heat pooling low in your belly. His tongue swept into your mouth, tasting and teasing, while his hand on your back pressed you flush against his chest. You could feel the hard planes of his body beneath his shirt, the rapid thump of his heart matching your own erratic pulse. Your fingers threaded deeper into his hair, tugging lightly, and he responded with a low groan that vibrated through you.
His grip tightened again, subtly, but grounding, as if he needed the contact, needed to keep you right there. His other hand, still tracing your side, dipped lower, fingers splaying over the curve of your hip before slipping under the hem of your shirt.
The room felt warmer now, thick with the smoke of the weed and a different kind of high Remus was giving you. The tension, the closeness, the way neither of you seemed particularly interested in slowing down.
"Still want me to stop?" he asked again, quieter this time, his forehead brushing yours.
Your response came immediately, the shake of your head a firm and final notice as you murmured back a resounding "No."
"Good," he muttered.
And as you leaned back down to connect your lips to his, the door slammed open, and a loud voice broke through the haze.
"WE LEFT MY–"
Sirius froze. James nearly walked into him again. Peter, halfway through another sentence, stopped so abruptly he made a choking sound at the scene before him. Your legs straddled Remus's lap, his hands firmly held onto you as you stared down at him.
You and Remus didn't jump part. Didn't scramble. Didn't even move quickly.
Instead, you pulled back a little as you both turned with a slow and unhurried pace, like you hadn't been caught in the middle of something they absolutely were not meant to walk in on.
Remus's hand was still on you. Still gripping your side, his other hand pressed slow circles on your back with his thumb. Still holding you close.
Sirius blinked. "... I hate it here," he cried as James dragged both hands over his face, his glasses sliding down with the movement.
"Mate, yo-" He cut himself off, still standing in the doorway.
Peter stared, wide-eyed. "Well, that escalated quickly."
Remus exhaled slowly, as if they were mildly inconveniencing you two at best. "You said you forgot something?" he asked, voice still low and roughened in a way that made all three of them pause again.
"You sound different," Sirius notes immediately.
"I do not."
"You do," Peter insisted. "You sound–"
"Occupied," Remus finished.
You let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh, your forehead dropping briefly against Remus's shoulder. " You're not even embarrassed." Remus tilted his head slightly, glancing at you, something softer threading through the haze again.
"Should I be?"
"Yes."
"Don't think I am."
Sirius made a strangled sound. "Oh no, he's insufferable like this."
James pointed at him. "You're holding her like you're not planning on letting go."
Remus looked down — actually looked. Like he had only just remembered that his hands were still there before he tightened his grip slightly. The action shifted your body, pressing your clothed pussy against him, causing an involuntary shudder to pass through you.
"Wasn't planning to," he said, certainly.
Peter choked on air, his eyes practically bulging out of his head as Sirius clutched his chest, pretending to double over in pain before leaning on James's shoulder. "That's– no. No, that's too much."
"You lot done?" You asked, though your voice was softer now, a little unsteady in a way you couldn't quite hide.
"Not even remotely," Sirius declared. "We leave for five minutes and come back to Remus Lupin losing his entire personality."
"I have not lost–"
"You have," all three of them argued at once, and Remus ignored them. Again. His thumb had started moving along your side, slow, absent, like he'd forgotten they were even there. Your breath caught again, and this time, James noticed.
"Oh, now that's ju– that's worse," he cried. "He's still doing it."
"Doing what?" Remus asked, distracted by your micro-reactions.
"That!" Sirius's hand jutted out, pointing at the two of you in circular motions. "The– whatever that is. The thing."
Remus glanced at you. Then back at them. "...I'm touching my girlfriend."
"Not like that, you don't," James shot back
Peter nodded quickly, "You're usually very... restrained."
Remus hummed faintly, like he was considering Peter's statement. "Yeah," he said after a moment. Then his hand shifted again, firmer this time. Your breath hitched once more.
That was the final straw.
"Right, come on, lads," James started, moving to grab one of the many lighters thrown around the dorm and two unlit joints. "We're leaving again. Don't do anything Moony wouldn't do." He teased, adjusting his glasses.
"Or do, I'm sure they wouldn't mind." Sirius barked a laugh, moving with exaggerated slowness.
"For Merlin's sake, get out." Remus rolled his eyes, dramatically throwing his head back on the pillow as he stared at your laughing face.
Sirius paused at the door, eyes wide with mock shock. "Bloody hell, Prongs, we created a monster."
James snorted. "Get out," Remus demanded, his voice firm, eyes still on you. He didn't break away, didn't even glance at them as his lips brushed yours in a teasing almost-kiss.
You pulled back just slightly, breath uneven, lips still hovering near his. "They're never going to let you live that down," you giggled. James slapped Sirius on the back, Peter trailing behind like a shadow.
He didn't break away, didn't even glance at them as his lips brushed yours in a teasing almost-kiss.
The door shut behind them with a click, leaving real silence. The weed smoke lingered, wrapping around you both like a veil.
"Don't care," He muttered, pulling you back down into a heated kiss.
The touch of his calloused palm against your bare skin made you shiver, arching into him instinctively. He broke the kiss to trail his mouth along your jaw, nipping at the sensitive spot below your ear. "Been wanting this," he murmured, voice rough with need, his breath hot against your neck.
"You mind?" he asked, hands not moving from their path, slipping under your shirt to trace the curve of your waist.
"No," you whispered, the high making everything feel amplified — the heat of his body, the faint scent of smoke on his skin.
"Good."
His mouth claimed yours then, no more hesitation. The kiss was hungry, tongues sliding together as his hands roamed higher, pushing your shirt up to expose your breasts. He broke away just long enough to yank it over your head, tossing it aside. His lips latched onto your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you gasp.
You ground down against him, feeling his cock harden through his jeans, thick and insistent against your core. "Remus," you moaned, fingers tangling in his hair.
You shifted on his lap, feeling the unmistakable bulge of his cock pressing up against your core through the layers of fabric. The friction as you rocked subtly against him drew a hiss from his lips, his grip tightening to hold you steady. "Remus," you whispered, your own hands exploring now, pushing his shirt up to reveal the taut muscles of his abdomen, scarred and beautiful in the dim light filtering through the room.
He captured your mouth again, hungrier this time, as his fingers worked the button of your jeans open with practised ease. The zipper rasped down, and he wasted no time shoving his hand inside, past the edge of your panties to cup your mound. You were already wet, your pussy aching for more, and he stroked along your folds with deliberate slowness, parting them to circle your clit. The pressure was perfect, building that sweet tension as you moaned into his kiss, hips grinding down to chase the sensation.
"Fuck, you're soaked," he growled, pulling back just enough to watch your face, his eyes dark and intense. Two fingers slid inside you, thick and curling to stroke that spot deep within, while his thumb continued its assault on your clit. You clenched around him, the wet sounds of his movements filling the quiet room, mingling with your ragged breaths. He pumped steadily, scissoring his fingers to stretch you, preparing you as he nipped at your collarbone.
He growled low, flipping you onto your back on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. His hands were everywhere, withdrawing from inside your wet heat to the waistband of your jeans, shoving them down your legs along with your panties. Cool air hit your wet pussy, but his fingers were there immediately, two sliding back inside you without warning, curling to hit that spot that made your back arch.
"Please," you begged, hips bucking up to meet his fingers as they scissored inside you. He withdrew his fingers, licking them clean with a smirk that was pure Sirius-level confidence.
Then he stripped off his shirt, revealing the lean muscles scarred from his transformations, as your hands fumbled with his belt, desperate to feel him, and he shifted his hips to help you shove his trousers and boxers down just enough to free his cock. It sprang up, hard and thick, the head flushed and glistening with pre-cum. You wrapped your fingers around the base, stroking firmly, and he bucked into your touch with a guttural sound. "Need you now," he rasped, withdrawing his fingers to line himself up.
Remus positioned himself between your legs, rubbing the head along your slit, teasing your entrance. "You want this?" he asked, voice rough from the smoke and restraint.
"Yes, fuck me."
He thrust in with one smooth motion, burying himself to the hilt. You cried out, walls stretching around his thickness. He barely gives you time to adjust, pulling back and slamming in again, setting a brutal pace. His hands pinned your wrists above your head, holding you down as he fucked you hard, the bed creaking under the force.
"So tight," he grunted, angling his hips to grind against your clit with every stroke. The high amplified it all—the slap of skin, the wet sounds of your pussy taking him, the building pressure in your core.
"Fuck, Remus– Just like that." You moaned, legs raising to wrap themselves tighter around his waist, head falling against his pillows as he continued with his brutal pace.
"Yes—God, yes, fuck me hard."
With a thrust that buried him to the hilt, he gave you what you craved. Your cry echoed off the walls as your pussy stretched around his girth, the fullness overwhelming. He didn't pause, pulling out almost completely before slamming back in, setting a punishing rhythm. His hands pinned your wrists above your head, holding you captive as he drove into you, hips snapping with a force that shook the bed.
"So tight, your pussy's taking me so well," he grunted, shifting his angle to grind against your clit on every inward stroke. The wet slap of skin on skin mixed with your moans, the room filling with the raw sounds of sex. Sweat beaded on his brow, dripping onto your chest as he fucked you relentlessly.
His hands released your wrists from their hold, your arms wrapping around him as you dug your nails down his back, leaving a trail of red marks down his back along his scars. He let out a low groan at the bite of your nails against his skin. You came first with a loud moan, shattering around him, legs shaking as you clenched down.
The pressure built fast, coiling tight in your belly until it snapped. You came with a scream, body convulsing, pussy milking his cock in rhythmic pulses. Remus groaned but didn't stop, pounding through your orgasm, drawing it out until tears pricked your eyes from the overstimulation.
But he wasn't done, not by a long shot.
Pulling out with a slick pop, he rolled your bodies, moving himself underneath your body as you straddled him again, still singing from your recent orgasm.
You rose slightly on your knees, bracing your hands on his shoulders, and sank down onto him in one fluid motion. His cock stretched your pussy wide, filling you completely, the burn of it making you gasp as you bottomed out. He was buried deep, pulsing inside you, and you paused for a moment, savouring the fullness, your walls fluttering around his length.
Remus's hands gripped your ass, guiding you as you began to move, rolling your hips in a slow grind that had him groaning. "That's it... Ride me," he urged, his voice strained. You picked up the pace, lifting and dropping onto his cock, the chair creaking beneath you with each bounce. His shaft dragged along your inner walls, hitting deep with every descent, while his fingers dug into your flesh, urging you faster. He slapped your ass once, sharp and stinging, then twice more, the pain blooming into heat. "You like that?" he asked, rubbing the red marks.
"Ye– yes!"
He leaned forward, mouth latching onto your breast, sucking hard enough to make you arch. You leaned back, lifting your head from his shoulder, exposing yourself, and he immediately took your nipple between his teeth, tugging gently before soothing it with his tongue. The dual sensations — his cock thrusting up to meet your movements, his mouth devouring your breast — pushed you closer to the edge.
Sweat beaded on your skin, your thighs burning from the effort, but the pleasure overrode everything. Remus's hips snapped up harder now, fucking into you from below, his balls slapping against your ass with wet smacks. "So tight... gonna make me cum," he panted, one hand sliding between your bodies to rub your clit in tight circles.
The added friction shattered you. Your orgasm hit like a wave, your pussy clenching rhythmically around his cock as you cried out, trembling in his lap. He followed seconds later, thrusting deep one last time, his release flooding you with hot spurts of cum. You rode out the aftershocks together, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close as you both caught your breath.
But the night was young, the high still buzzing, and that confident glint in his eye promised more. He flipped you onto your stomach again, hands yanking your hips up as your ass was presented to him, spreading your legs wide with firm hands. Cum and arousal dripped down your thighs, but he didn't care. His palm came down on your ass cheek, sharp, stinging, leaving a red handprint that bloomed hot.
"Fuck, more," you begged, pushing back against him, the pain twisting into delicious heat that made your pussy clench emptily.
He obliged with two more strikes, alternating cheeks until your skin burned, then lined up and thrust back inside. This position was deeper, his cock spearing you open, hitting nerves that made stars explode behind your eyelids. One hand fisted in your hair, pulling your head back to arch your spine, while the other snaked around to pinch and roll your clit between his fingers.
"Come for me again," he commanded, pace brutal, hips slamming against your reddened ass. The combination shattered you — orgasm ripping through like lightning, your scream muffled into the pillow as you soaked his cock and thighs.
Remus followed seconds later, burying deep and spilling hot cum inside you, groans tearing from his chest as he pumped every drop. He collapsed over your back for a moment, breath ragged, before pulling out slowly, watching his release leak from your swollen pussy.
"Not pretending anymore, huh?" you teased softly.
He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Never again."
Exhausted, you both collapsed in a tangle of limbs, his arms wrapping around you possessively. He rolled the both of you onto your sides, facing him as his softening cock slid back inside you, a lazy smile curving your lips.
The door rattled faintly — probably the boys eavesdropping — but Remus just chuckled, kissing your forehead. "Let them tease. Every second of that was worth it." The high faded slowly, leaving you sated and wrapped in his warmth, the dorm silent except for your shared breaths.
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-summary: reader learns a little trick that she can't wait to show her man.
-warnings: suggestive, but no smut. she/her pronouns used. fem reader
-notes- this was written with black women in mind, specifically megan thee stallion. can yall tell im in love with her. slight descriptions used, but nothing major (enjoy having a fat, juicy, voluptuous ass) click on the links so you can see what im talking about, im horrible explaining things
Thinking about Michael’s cute little girlfriend/fiancée showing him her new trick. She had recently learned that if she jumps up and down, her ass can clap quite loudly.
She hadn’t noticed before, but one night while she was having a sleepover with her friends, she had started jumping up and down when her friends surprised her with certificate for a free massage, knowing she has chronic back pain.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She exclaimed excitedly.
clap! clap! clap!
Everyone paused, looking around before her friend Camille (Cammie for short) started to laugh and tried and get her to turn around. “When did you get all this ass back here? That man makes sure to take care of you, huh?" She teased.
She couldn't help but stand there flustered. She had noticed her thighs, hips, and ass filling out, but she hadn't noticed how much. She should've with how Michael could't keep his hands off of her. Always giving her ass a cute pinch while walking past.
Or squeezing and kneading her thighs when he's focused on reviewing his documents. He was obsessed with this new weight she was gaining.
"Girlll, have you shown him that party trick yet?"
"Kenzie.. what party trick? I didn't even know I could do that. It's kinda embarrassing."
"Oh please," Kenzie rolled her eyes. "If you don't use those assets to your advantage. You already get what you want, Mrs. Jackson."
And that's how we ended up here. Michael in black slacks and a black button down, manspread across the large couch in the living room. He had gotten home from doing interviews not long ago, a tired smile on his face.
"Baby, can I show you something?" That was the first thing she asked him when he walked through the door. And he lived for her shenanigans, of course he followed her to see what she was so giddy about.
"I learned I could do this the other day when I had that sleepover. The girls think you'll like it." She looked kinda nervous, but there was mischief in her eyes too. He knew he was in for a treat.
She had on just a purple nightgown, lace trim around the neckline and slit of the gown. Nothing underneath, just how Michael likes her. She turned around, pulled her curls over her shoulder and started jumping.
It sounded like war was happening. An earthquake if you will. Michael ain't never seen nothing like this. The fluidity in the way her ass waves to him is pulling him into a trance. She turned to the side to get a good look at Michael's big, pretty eyes. Bending over to shake that ass some more with little effort. It just flowed so naturally.
Everything matched perfectly. From her waist, to her hips, to those thick, pretty thighs, down to her muscular calves and pretty pink toes. She's pure perfection and he's in love.
After her show, she sheepishly smiled at hime. Walking over slowly to straddle his lap. "What did you think, Big Daddy?" He loves to pretend he hates when she calls him by this teasing nickname, but it really just made him hard.
She had started calling him Big Daddy after he took all of her cards out of the Chanel bag he had just gifted her with his own card and insisting that she doesn't use her money for anything. Michael loves taking care of his pretty baby.
Her fingers were tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck, that smirk and lip bite playing on his face. Each one of Michael's hands on her bottom, hands overflowing with the thickness.
"You know I'm about to tear you up right?" That's exactly what she wanted to hear, quickly getting of his lap to run to the bedroom. He of course got a quick smack in before she got too far. Allat ass still clapping on her way to the massive bedroom.
Michael just laughed and shook his head, following her to their bedroom. "She's gonna be the death of me," he muttered to himself. And he was proud of it.
Cws-Mature themes alternate universe age gap heavy sexual tensin office setting pwer dynamics dominance & submission voyeurism/watching fingering overstimulation
A\N- guys, be nice. This is my first time writing Aaron Hotchner, but I just watched the secretary, and I had to write something inspired by it.
The office was nearly empty. Everybody else had gone home for the night, but you couldn’t. You stupidly had put off this paperwork until the last possible moment, which was tonight. It felt like you were alone, the office silent aside from quiet sounds of the printer, somebody flipping through pages, and a pen scribbling against a page. Everybody minded their own business– except for you, of course
The last thing you should be doing is watching him. The report on your desk was due tonight, and it wasn’t going to finish itself, but yet you found your eyes wandering towards the glass office at the end of the room. Towards him, He sat behind his desk, sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms, reading through a file with the same concentration he gave everything else.
Everybody watched, it wasn't like you were the ceep. They watched him lead briefings, solve cases, and they watched him walk into a room and somehow make everybody sit up straighter. The difference between you and them was that you watched when nobody else did.
You watched when he loosened his tie when it got late, you watched him rub the bridge of his nose when he read, and you noticed that his focus never really broke. Too focused on your thoughts, you didn't notice him leaving his desk and heading for you.
“Still here?” His voice was low, tired, but it snapped you out of it immediately. You gave an awkward smile. “Unfortunately,” Something that almost looked like a smile reached the corner of his mouth. He glanced down at your report, then back up at your face. “You’re not getting much done on that, are you?” You couldn’t tell if you were in trouble. He doesn’t leave—Just stands there, leaning in close enough that you can smell his cologne.
He backs up slightly, like he's fighting the urge to do something he shouldn’t, then leans back into you and speaks, “Maybe if you half the amount of the time that you spend staring at me on your work, we wouldn't be here at ten o’clock.” The embarrassment hits hard, you hadn’t thought you were being obvious—but then again, who really could hide anything from him. How long had he been watching? Had he been waiting for everybody to leave?
“Come inside,” he didn't wait to see if you would follow. He just turned, his dark leather shoes clicking against the floor as he made his way towards the office. Your legs felt heavy, like you were moving through a body of water. Despite this, you picked up the thin, half-empty folder from your desk and followed him.
Your heartbeat was so loud you half expected him to point it out. When you stepped into his office, you expected him to make his way to his seat and lecture you about timelines and whatever else you had done wrong.
You were wrong. The second you walked into his office, he shut the door—the sound of the lock sounded like a gunshot in the silence. “Put the file down,” He murmured. You drop it onto the nearest corner of his desk, fingers trembling just enough to make the paper rustle as you place it down. You try to keep your eyes on the paper, try to be professional, be a good employee even though nothing about this seemed professional. You could feel his gaze on the side of your face, it felt so heavy, you doubted he was even blinking.
“Look at me,” He didn’t even have to raise his voice—he spoke in a low, gravelly tone. The one that he used when he was in control of a room. You finally turned your head, forcing your eyes up to meet his. He had his hands tucked casually into his pants pockets, like he was just another day for him. He leaned against the edge of the desk—his eyes focused on you, as if he was analyzing you. “You’ve been distracted all evening,” he said, voice dropping slightly lower, “every time I looked out the window, you were watching me.” You couldn’t explain yourself before he started again. “ You watched me read, you watched me move, you’re doing it right now”
You swallowed hard, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. “I was just—”
“Did I tell you to speak?” he interrupted you, taking one step forward. The distance between you completely vanished. You could smell him, his cologne mixed with the faint smell of coffee. He reached out, his thumb and his pointer catching you right under the chin, forcing your head up. His fingers were warm, his grip firm enough to let you know he was serious, but gentle enough to make your knees go weak.
“The difference between you and the rest of the team,” he whispered, his eyes dropping to your lips for a second before looking back onto yours, “is that they know when to look away. You don't. You’re a little creep, aren’t you?” The word hit you like a punch, and a chill ran right down your spine. A creep? Hearing it come out of his mouth—so calm, casual, with that deep, flat authority. The same voice he used to command entire rooms made your face burn hot.
He didn’t let go of your chin. If anything, his thumb tilted your face up just a bit more, his eyes tracking the way your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. He liked the way you reacted. You could see it in the slight softening of his jaw, the way his gaze stared anchored to you.
“Look at how quiet you got,” He murmured, his thumb brushing slowly against the soft skin of your jawline. “Nothing to say now?” The silence was getting to you, “I’m–” he shook his head, “I told you not to speak.” He let go of your chin, but before you could even think about taking a step back, his hand slid down to the collar of your shirt. His fingers brushed against the bare skin of your collarbone, sending a violent jolt of electricity straight through you. Slowly, he took the edge of your collar between his fingers and tugged at it downwards, not enough to rip it, just enough to force you to get closer.
He leaned down just enough that his breath was warm against your ear, his voice a low, gravelly sound that made your knees buckle “You’ve been sitting out there for hours, neglecting your work because you’re too busy projecting whatever little fantasies you have onto me” he whispered, his hand shifting from your collar to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling into your curls “you want to watch me so bad? You want to see what happens when the door is locked?”
You couldn’t help the small, desperate nod you gave against his hand. “Good girl,” He pulled back just enough to look down into your blown-out pupils, his face completely rid of his usual professional mask. There was a dark, heavy look there now, something completely raw. “Then you’re going to stay right here. You’re going to do exactly what I tell you to do, and you aren’t going to take your eyes off me for a single second. Do you understand?”
He didn't wait for you to answer with words. The desperate, breathless look in your eyes was enough of an answer. He let out a low sound of approval, his hand tightened in your curls for a second before letting go. The sudden loss of his touch made you cold, but before you could even blink, he reached out and took you by the waist. His grip was tight, hands sinking into your hips with a possessive weight that made it clear you weren’t going anywhere unless he allowed it
With one smooth tug, he moved you forward to lift and guide you backwards until the backs of your thighs hit the edge of his desk. The wood was solid and cool against your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat coming off his body. “Sit” He ordered, his eyes never leaving yours.
You scrambled up onto the edge, your hands pressed flat against the dark wood on wither side of your thighs steadying yourself as you sast on the desk. He reached up, his long fingers wrapping around his tie. He wasn’t rushing, He loosened it slow, methodical movements you had been watching all night—but this time, it was meant for you too see. He pulled the band completely over his head and tossed it onto the desk behind you, followed by the first three buttons of his white shirt.
The view made your mouth go dry. Your boss was standing in font of you, unwravilling right in front of you. It was weird to see him outside of controlled and focused. “You like seeing me like this?” he murmured, leaning forward until his hands planted flat on the desk, caging your thighs in on both sides. He was so close you could feel the heat coming from his body “This is what you wanted when you were staring at me, isn’t it?”
“Yes” You whispered, the word slipping out before you could stop yourself. His eyes were dark and angry like you haad done something wrong, like you had disobeyed. He didn’t check your speech this time. Instead, one of his hands left the desk and slid up your inner tigh, his plam hot and heavy through the fabric of your clothes. He pushed his hand upward with a slow pace that made your breath hitch in your throat.
He stopped just short of where you desperately wanted him him to be, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your bottoms, anchoring you to him. “Then look at me” He commanded, his voice dropping into a rough, dominant tone. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin right beneath your ear “keep your eyes right on me while I show you exactly what happens to creeps who don’t finish their work”
Your fingers dug so deep into the grain of the oak desk that your nails nearly cracked against the wood. The moment his fingers slid beneath the fabric and found your bare skin, the absolute heat of him made your whole body arch. You were already dripping, completely ruined just from hours of watching him through the glass, and he knew it.
He didn’t use a light touch. His fingers were heavy, blunt, and instantly demanding, pressing directly into your slick center with a hard, sliding pressure that made your hips twitch violently. "Ah—"
"Hush," he mumbled, cutting off your gasp by shoving two fingers straight inside you. The sudden, thick stretch of him filling you up so fast made your eyes snap wide. You swallowed a scream, your head slamming back against his glass window with a dull thud. He didn’t slow down, his fingers curling inside you, hitting a spot deep and sensitive that a shiver wrecked your entire spine.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice dropping to rough and jagged you had never heard him use in a briefing. He leaned his weight forward, his broad chest pressing your torso back until you were half-flat on the desk, your legs spread completely wide around his waist. "I told you to keep your eyes on me, you’re a big girl you can do it."
You forced your eyes open through the tears of friction. He was looking right down at you, his jaw clenched so tight the muscle was ticking, his eyes completely dark with heat. He began to move his fingers again. bottoming out inside you until the wet, smacking sound of his palm hitting your soaking core echoed loudly in the empty office.
He used his other hand to pin your wrists flat against the desk above your head, locking you down. Every single thrust of his fingers was deliberate, driving higher and higher, stretching you open until you were sobbing, your hips blindly thrusting against his hand to beg for more speed.
"You like how that feels?" he murmured, leaning down so close his lips brushed yours, tasting the salt of your sweat. "You like being taken apart on my desk?"
"Yes—please, please—"
"Then take it," he whispered, his thumb finding your swollen clit and pressing down hard, rubbing in a tight, circle at the exact same time he drove his fingers all the way inside you.
The dual stimulation was too intense. Your vision went blurry at the edges. Your inner muscles clamped down on his fingers, pulsing in tight, waves as your orgasm hit you. You whined against his mouth, your hips shaking as you came directly on his hand, soaking his fingers.
He didn't look away for a single second. He watched your face twist, watched your chest heave, his thumb keeping up that brutal, steady friction right through your climax until your loud, breathless whimpers finally began to quiet down into ragged breathing.
Hotch stepped back, but he didn't give you permission to move yet. Without the heat of his body anchoring you to the desk, the cool air of the office hit your damp skin, making you shiver, your legs still draped awkwardly over the edge of the wood.
His dark eyes stayed locked on yours, heavy and unblinking, as he slowly adjusted the cuffs of his crisp white shirt. He rolled them neatly back down to his wrists, buttoning himself back up into the Unit Chief without ever breaking that intense, suffocating connection between you.
He picked up your messy, half-finished folder from where it had fallen on the floor, and placed it right on the desk between your open thighs.
"Fix your clothes," he murmured, his voice returning to that smooth, professional tone, though it was still rough around the edges from how hard he'd just had you.
You scrambled off the desk, your knees shaking so badly you had to catch yourself against the leather chair. Your underwear was damp, your skin was flush, and your chest was still heaving, but you hurriedly pulled your clothes back into place, your fingers fumbling with your own buttons under his dark, watchful eye.
Once you were presentable, he tapped his index finger against the folder. "You aren't leaving," he said softly, the authority in his voice pinning you to the floor. "Sit right there in that chair. You are going to type out the rest of this report, word for word, exactly how I want it. I'm going to sit right here, and if I see your eyes wander from the screen even once, we are going to start this entire evening over. Do you understand me?"
You swallowed the lump in your throat, your voice a tiny, whisper. "Yes.."
"Good." He sat back down in his heavy leather chair, pulling a fresh stack of files toward himself and picking up his pen, completely ignoring the scent of you that still hung heavy in the air.
In which frat boy Sukuna thinks your the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen and you tell him to shut up!
frat!Sukuna x blackfem!reader | Sukuna is a slut| fluff (no description of smut or anything) | strangers to hate (??)
wc: 1,2k | pt.2 | m.list
Sukuna hates his option. He didn't know why he choose to take something to do with international relationship or Diplomacy when he's an finance guy.
But Satoru Gojo convinced him to follow this course with him.
So here he is, already bored even if the lecture didn't started. His laptop open on the table, black screen because Sukuna pretend to work, while he was just doomscrolling on Twitter.
"How long this shit is again?" Asked Sukuna
"One hour and a half". Reply Satoru.
" Fuck…" groans the pink-haired.
He wouldn't last this long, sitting here and listen about crisis in the world or whatever this course is about.
Sukuna is more a math guy. It doesn't seems at first but he enjoys numbers and all. And right now he starts to regret to have join his buddy here, but it's too late.
" Sukuna!"
He looks up and sees a bunch of girls weaving at him. He smiles at them and some of them make weird noises.
Ah, right. Sukuna Ryomen, the basketball's captain and THE frat boy. The man of the uni. His reputation follows him and he's very proud about that. Yes he like the attention of some girls, yes he fuck some of them and doesn't call them back, but who cares? He is Sukuna Ryomen after all.
But what he didn't see coming is this girl.
When you enter the room, the atmosphere change immediately and Sukuna looks up again, his mouth a little bit open.
Today is a bright day so you choose to dress according to the weather. Your long black skirt flatters slightly with every step you take, your backless white shirt marks your silhouette, and let the room's light make your melanin skin glow.
Yeah this is the first time Sukuna saw you, he have good memories of the girls that he fuck talks to. And you aren't one of them. Why, he doesn't know. Are you knew here? Or he just never had the chance to cross path with such a beautiful girl?
"Yo, who's that?" Ask Sukuna to Satoru
"Uh? Don't know but she's here every weeks since the begin of the semester, you never notice?"
"No? How am I supposed to see people if I sleep?"
Satoru laugh and Sukuna looks at you once again. You wear small black glasses that frame your beautiful brown eyes. On each wrist you have many bracelets that make noises clic clic clic. Your brown braids fall on your back. Yeah, you're beautiful and Sukuna needs to talk to you. He can already imagine your soft lips on his.
Lucky him, you walked toward him, the back row of the classroom and you sit right next to him without give him a look.
Uh? This is new. He never sees a girl who didn't pay and attention to him.
He smell you perfume, honey? Vanilla and… coco. Oh, he loves this.
"Hey doll" he says.
No answer.
"Hello?" He repeats
No answer.
You take your things out of you tote bag like nothing happen.
" Is she deaf or what?"
" Err, I don't think so, otherwise she wouldn't take the class" replies Satoru
"Then why she's not answering me?"
One thing about Sukuna, he DOESN'T like to be ignored. And right now, you just did that.
So, the pink-hair man tap on your shoulder, you jump a little bit and look at him.
Fuck she's beautiful… thinks Sukuna.
"Err, Hmm… hi"
"What? Sorry i did not heard you"
You take off your earbud.
Oh… Sukuna understand now. You were listening music.
"What did you say? I'm sorry" you asked
" Nothing. I just thought you were ignoring me. I just say hi" he explain
Why is he nervous? He knows How to flirt and make a girl giggle.
"Oh, hi Sukuna." You smile.
And your smile is the most beautiful smile he ever see in his life. Well maybe not, but he think it is.
"You know my name?"
"Well it's not hard to know the most popular men in this uni and you play basketball"
"So you're interested in me? I know I'm fam-"
"No, I'm not interested in you. There are just facts. You're the most popular guy in the campus and you play in the basketball team. Am I right?"
Satoru hold his laugh and cover his mouth with his hand.
You're not interested in him?
What fuck?
You said that like it's nothing.
"Well, you know my name, I have to know yours"
"Then for you to call me doll either way because you can't remember my name? No thank you. "
Ouch?!
How such a beautiful girl can say so mean things to him? He's not used to that. That's not normal.
"I can remember names. And it's better that I know yours so when we gonna talk-"
"I don't want to talk to you Sukuna."
Satoru burst out laugh that make some people turn their hand toward your row.
Sukuna slaps the back of Satoru's head.
"Sorry, but that's funny." Whisper Satoru.
"Not it's not, dumb ass.
Sukuna return his head toward yours. You so pretty, it's make his heart melt.
"Why?" He asked
"I just don't want to. Now, if you please shut your mouth so I can follow my lecture. Thank you very much Ryomen".
He closes his mouth, unable to say something in return.
Never in his life a girl makes him shut his mouth. But here you are, sayin' you don't want him to know your name and you're not into him?
"And then she said "I just don't want to. Now if you please shut your mouth so I can follow my lecture. Thank you very much Ryomen"" Said Satoru
Everyone laugh except Sukuna.
"Shut the fuck up Gojo."
"Sorry, sorry but this is the first time I saw you actually shut your mouth because a girl says so!"
Ugh, this Will be a long ass day for Sukuna Ryomen.
"Wait, you actually shut your mouth?" Ask Toji with a grin "Good boy."
Another round of laugh. Sukuna was to kill Satoru during his sleep, there no other way.
His group of friends is making fun of him right in front of him. A great disaster.
Yet he just wanted to be friendly or flirty with her. But she chooses violence.
He wants to curse at her but he can. She's way to pretty. Maybe she's out of his league? No this can't be, Sukuna Ryomen is out of her league.
"Oh! That's her! She's here." Exclaim Satoru.
Everybody turn their head where Satoru looks. You're with three other girls, three tables away from their. Sukuna couldn't help but looks at you.
You're were laughing with your friends, your glasses on your pretty nose and your braids tied up in a big bun.
Why didn’t you like him?
Why are you mean to him?
And why on earth are you ignoring him?
"Oh that's yn" says Suguru.
Sukuna look to his friend who said your name.
"You know her?" He ask way too soon
"Yeah, she's in my class."
"And she hates me. Do you know why?"
"What? No, I don't talk to her that much. She's with her friends but she's cool."
She's cool. Sukuna can picture it, but she's also a mean pretty girl.
He looks at you, he knows your name now. He wins this battle but not the war. He will get you one way or another. He'll gonna to make you fall for him.
Little did he know, he's falling for you.
a/n: Honestly i don’t know what I just write, I just did it lol. Once again, if you find some mistake, please let me know, english is not my first language!
