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#And it's taking me a year to finish this thing
luveline · 1 day
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𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐚𝐳, 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐝 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
Eddie has a staring problem that you barely notice, though you share an aching, awful crush. One of you has to bend first, and it’s not who you’d expect. fem, 5k 
ditzy-ish reader, pining eddie, mutual pining, confessions, first kisses, fluff and hugging, idiots in love, mild states of undress
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
It’s a day fit for a funeral in Hawkins. Rain hammers his bedroom window like hailstones, plinking against the frame, condensation running down the panes in thick rivulets he soaks up with an old t-shirt. 
It’s supposed to be spring time. Green grass, flowers, a gentle humming sun to warm the back of his neck while he sits out on the couch on the porch, a hand-rolled cigarette between his fingers, the tip shimmering with heat. 
But the rain pours. He’s cleaned his room for the first time in a month, at least, and his back aches in the best way as he lays down amongst fresh sheets. His room feels strange when it’s organised, but he doesn’t mind. He pictures the state of it through a second pair of eyes. This is a boy who cares about things, who takes care of them, who could take care of me, too. 
Rain again rackets on the metal roof above. He and Wayne keep a couple hundred bucks stashed for the day the roof flies straight off —they take turns hiding it, because cars break down and groceries get more expensive every year, but god will they need it, and so they safeguard it well. 
He syphoned a little of the money recently with Wayne’s support. It was for a good cause. 
“Jesus,” Eddie murmurs to himself, not tired but feeling dull as the clouds outside eat the remaining sun. 
It’s depressing to be poor, and to lose a day trying to hide the evidence of an entire life in a small room. He could sleep a hundred years. 
He’s just finished pulling the sheets over his shoulder when somebody knocks on the front door. Wayne opens it three rooms away, the sound of the rain doubled. 
He gives a startling shout, “Ed! Your girl!” 
Eddie topples out of bed. Doesn’t mean to, foot caught in the bottom of the sheets and stuck as he scrambles to slide out of the mess. He’s begged Wayne not to call you that when you’re within earshot, but Wayne’s a mean (kind) old bastard (middle aged dad) who wants Eddie dead (happy, and in love). 
“Come on in, girl. You’re soaking.” 
“It’s raining.” 
“It’s pouring down. Did you walk here?” 
“Took my bike. Thought I’d get struck by lightning in the car.” 
“How’d you figure?” 
Eddie goes to grab the door handle and spins on his heel, staggering onto his bed and up against the wall, where a mirrored tray once used by Dio himself for rolling hangs from the wall. He checks his face in the polished surface, his warped mouth and nose, too small eyes, and swears to himself that one day he’ll get a real mirror with a fully-functioning reflective surface. 
Then he hops down off of the bed, causing a reverberation he knows traverses the entirety of the trailer floor. Eddie snatches a rare clean towel from his laundry chair and speeds down the hall. 
“Hello,” he says, more casual than he feels to find you unexpectedly in his house. “You’re soaked.” 
You give a sweet smile. “It’s raining out, did you not know?” 
Your hair is dripping, water racing down the curves of your face to collect at your chin. Eddie can see the smudges of your makeup where it’s washing off as he wraps a towel around you, kohl on your cheeks, eyelashes turned to half-diamonds and sticky-looking. You grin at being covered, taking the towel from his fingers before he can dab you dry. 
“Why didn’t you just call me?”’
“I can never remember if your phone number ends in three or four.” 
“Seven. I wrote it down for you a hundred times.” 
You rub your eyes and spread all manner of glitter and shadow over your skin. You wipe your neck and the glitter spreads like an alien rash. 
When you talk next, you shiver, “I lost it a hundred times, sorry. Is it okay that I'm here?” 
Wayne, who’s been watching with a distinct sense of amusement from the couch, lets out a chesty laugh. “Honey, it’s always okay that you’re here on my account. And it’s my house.” 
“It’s fine.” Eddie turns your shoulder so he can mouth over it without being caught. Asshole. 
Another laugh follows. Eddie would cut each of his fingers from his hand and then his hand from his wrist if it were something Wayne needed him to do, but that doesn’t make him any less of an opportunistic asshole. If there’s a way to fuck with Eddie, he tends to try it. He loves Eddie with all the tenacity of a father who loves his son, but Wayne got infected with little bitch disease or something and Eddie can’t cure it. 
“Can I please wash my face? I didn’t expect to get soaked.” 
“Didn’t you?” He regrets his flippancy quickly, leading you down the hall. “You could take a shower. What do you think?” 
You’ve never showered here, but Eddie’s trying to, you know, date you. Romance you, get to cherish you, however anyone wants to say it. And it’s not a war of attrition, just a natural escalation of sharing, or a minimising of boundaries. 
No, that’s pervy, isn’t it? 
“I mean–” He starts to correct himself. 
You interrupt with your answer, “Yes, please, do you think I could? But I don’t have anything to wear.”
“I have your purple hoodie in my room, and there’s gotta be a pair of sweatpants here that fit you,” he says. 
They’ve got a whole bunch of clothes here that floated in from somewhere else, Eddie’s other friends or stuff they’ve bought by mistake. He’s sure he can find something.
“You have my hoodie?” you ask, black kohl spreading across the towel as you wipe your cheek. 
Eddie only smelled it one time. When he’d realised you left it in his van he brought it in and folded it, waiting for the next time he’d see you to give it back, but that night he’d been getting out of the shower wondering if he could call you or if that was too soon, and your hoodie had been right there. So he stood there in his pyjama pants with his wet hair and he didn’t think about picking your hoodie up, he just did, and when he pressed it to his face it still smelled of your perfume. 
He put it back and felt like a loser for days.
“It’s in my closet, you left it in the van Monday,” he explains quickly, nudging you through the doorway of the bathroom. 
The Munson bathroom is teeny tiny but not unnavigable. There’s a shower pressed to the far wall that could squeeze in two people, their toilet to the right, a sink basin opposite that with a medicine cabinet and just enough room for a dirty laundry box that’s always, always full. 
Eddie opens the shower and turns it on. “It takes a while to get really hot but then it’s not hot for long, sorry. There’s my shampoo if you want it, and soap, and body wash. Sorry, none of it is super girly.” 
“Sorry sorry,” you say, pretending to hit him in the stomach. “What’s with all the sorries, handsome? I can’t wait to smell like a boy.” 
The way you say it. Eddie doesn’t know what it is, but it’s why he’s crazy about you. 
Probably shouldn’t tell you that as you're taking off your jacket, though. 
“I’ll be right back,” he says. 
Eddie heads out of the bathroom to their skinny linen cabinet hidden in the hallway. He grabs the last two towels from the middle shelf and takes pause, fabric starchy in his hands. Just be normal, he thinks, a pep talk from Eddie to Eddie. She hangs out with you all the time for a reason. She held your hand at the movies. 
Eddie’s in better spirits when he remembers that. Your hand in his, your ring pushing his ring further down his finger, your cheek touching his shoulder as you’d leaned in and asked if he wanted some of your popcorn. 
He opens the door without thinking, shower pattering against the perspex wall, your legs crossing tightly as he enters, turning yourself away from him.
“Woah!” you say, laughing.
“Holy crap.” The image of your red underwear immediately stamps itself into his mind as he pulls the door shut between you. They were really cute, red and white gingham, showcasing just the slightest curve of your– “I told you I was coming back!” 
“I thought you’d knock!” you laugh. “Sorry I flashed you. At least I had my shirt on.” 
At least, he thinks wryly, shoving his arm through the gap in the door, heavy towels pulling at his fingers. His head’s about to snap off, it's turned so far away from the door’s opening. “Here.” 
“If you wanna see me naked so bad you can just ask,” you tease. 
“Take the towels, loser.” 
You take the towels and he closes the door, preventing any more accidental creeping, and giving himself a reprieve. Gingham underwear. Wavy lettuce edgings kissing your skin. 
Holy fuck. Being a person is so lame, Eddie thinks. He wants to have a crush on you purely, and yet seeing the way you’d crossed your legs to hide from him, smiling, he can’t not think about kissing you —touching you. If he doesn’t get you laid out in his bed soon for some slow kissing he’s not gonna make it.
Eddie opens the strip vent above his window and prays it doesn’t flood his whole room. Clean, it doesn’t look half bad, he could bring you in here respectfully, you could stay the night without fearing for your life. 
You take a quick shower. He’s barely gotten over his nerves when you’re walking into his room, a towel around you, not a hint of shyness about you. 
“You didn’t bring me anything to wear,” you explain. 
Eddie just stares at you. 
“Eddie?” You wrap the towel tighter. “Come on, you’re staring at me.”
“Sorry.” His mouth is bone dry. 
“You have my hoodie, right? Just need some pants.” You cross your arm tightly across your chest. “I don’t usually notice when people are staring at me.”
“You aren’t usually naked in my room,” he says, genuinely and embarrassingly apologetic. 
“I’m not naked. Come on, please? Do I have to wait outside the door?” you ask with a laugh. 
Eddie stands up. Shakes his head hard, almost trips over himself trying to get to his dresser. He decides honesty will be best at this point, lest you think he has only one thing on his mind, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m just in my head about something and I wasn’t expecting you to come out like that. It’s not right. You’re just… you’re really pretty.” 
“Thank you.” He can’t see you, sorting quickly through his middle drawer and all his miscellaneous pants for a pair he’s sure would fit, if he could just remember where it was. “What are you in your head about?” 
“What?” 
“Eddie, are you okay?” 
“No, no,” he moans, rubbing his face with his hand, ring scratching the bridge of his nose, “I’m not okay, princess, I’m overheating or something, Jesus Christ.” He finally lays eyes on the sweatpants he’d been thinking of, grabs your hoodie from the top shelf and drops them both at the end of the bed. “I’ll give you some privacy.” 
“I don’t have any underwear.” 
“And that’s something I can’t fix,” he says, leaving the room in a hurry. 
Eddie gets to the living room and keels over. His hair falls in his face, his shirt slides down his back. What the fuck is wrong with him? 
Wayne, sliding his shoes on in the recliner, gives a start. “What’s wrong?”
Eddie lifts his head, yanking hair from his face, the skin of his under eyes pulled down harshly. “Oh my god.”
Wayne wrinkles his nose. 
“No ones ever been such a pathetic excuse for a man before,” Eddie says. 
“Your dad’s in jail,” Wayne points out. “And not for the impressive stuff.”
“I’m pathetic.” 
“You’re fine. You’re not supposed to be not pathetic, you’re twenty.” 
“I’m twenty one.” 
“The extra year doesn’t mean much. I know you think you’re all grown up, but you’re still an idiot.” 
Wayne stands and shrugs on the jacket laying over the armrest. 
“Wait, where are you going?” 
“I thought you were definitely gonna ask her?” Wayne asks knowingly. That’s what Eddie told him, after all. “Next time I see her, Wayne, I’m asking her to go steady.” 
Eddie shakes his head. “You can’t leave.” 
“Eddie.” Wayne gestures for Eddie to stop slouching like some fiend from a bad horror. “Listen. I get that you’ve always been sort of… behind everyone, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do it. She likes you. She biked here in a hurricane.”
“What if she says no?” he asks. 
Truthfully, Eddie’s more scared of you saying yes. 
Wayne shrugs. “Girl like that’ll still be your friend after. It’ll be fine, okay? Do you need a hug before I go?” 
“No.” Eddie rubs his eyes some more, sore now from being touched. “Maybe.” 
Wayne crosses the room to give his shoulder a squeeze. “It will be fine. You’re great with rejection, Eds, but I have a good feeling about this one.” 
Eddie felt better about it, before he embarrassed himself staring at you. But Wayne’s right, even if Eddie’s read things wrong between you, he’s sure you’ll still want to be his friend. You and Eddie are the same kind of weird, though he’s more angry where you’re carefree. If everything goes wrong, you’ll probably just give an unnecessary apology and offer to braid his hair. Which will be torture, but Eddie’ll still say yes.
Wayne calls goodbye, and you shout, “Bye, Mr. Munson!” to which Wayne wiggles his eyebrows. 
“Get lost,” Eddie says. 
“Go make her a drink. I’ll see you later.” 
That’s not a bad idea. Eddie makes you a mix of orange and grapefruit juice with a couple of ice cubes and a plastic straw, your reaction predicted and then proved. 
“It’s a cocktail,” you say, pleased, sitting on the side of his bed. 
“It’s not a cocktail, just juice.” 
“Can I have some socks, please, Eddie?” 
Eddie passes you your drink, fingertips brushing. “Yeah. Anything else?” He pretends to be exhausted as he trudges back over to his dresser. 
You laugh and sip your drink. “No, I think you’re treating me quite well.” 
Eddie grabs a random pair and finally gets to sit down beside you, the dresser drawer left out, a spare sock fallen to the floor. You shuffle back into his pillows, propping your juice on his side table, and holding your hands out for the socks. Again, your fingertips touch his as he passes them to you. You seem to enjoy it, a smile lighting your face as you pull your knees up to put the socks on. 
“Thank you for waiting on me,” you say quietly. Not shyly, just quiet. 
“You’re welcome. Came all this way to see me, didn’t you?” He gives you a shove. You shuffle back further. “In the pouring rain.” 
“It felt important at the time.” 
“Yeah?” 
You get the socks on and don’t care about them once they're past your heels. Eddie does the honour of smoothing out the bands so that the elastic won’t dig into your skin, and when he’s done he can feel you looking at him heavily. You’re not one for continued eye contact, but you smile like you were waiting for it all day, like it’s a relief to see him. 
“Bad weather,” you say, slouching down. “I think I’m still wet on the inside.” 
“Gross,” Eddie says, pushing you over bodily to sit beside you. This isn’t new, he doesn’t need any nerves, and he’s grateful when they don’t come. “Here, I’ll pull the blanket over you.” 
“Can’t move,” you say, leaning back against the pillows.
Eddie stretches his legs out. You keep yours up, but you turn to his side, and before he can really make any sense of you, you’re dropping your face into his shoulder. 
“Are you still cold?” he asks, searching for the truth in your strange comment. 
You nod into his shoulder. “I’m freezing. The shower didn’t get very hot.” 
“Sorry,” he says, letting his cheek rest on your head. 
You lift your chin as he does it, his lashes pressed to your forehead, the two of you stuck together like two warped jigsaw pieces. You probably weren’t made to be together, but you make a nice picture, and you fit snugly now. That’s what Eddie thinks. 
This is the sort of moment that makes Eddie wanna ask you out. Maybe you’re just the best friend he’s ever had, but something about this closeness feels different. You wrap your arm around his stomach in a hug and he knows this is different. 
“It’s okay,” you say finally, sighing as you shift downward into his side, getting comfortable. 
“Please don’t bike here in the rain. It’s, like, torrential. You could actually get sick.” 
You feel warm where your body presses against his, but Eddie doubts that’ll make a difference if the cold already made you sick. The bike ride from your place to his isn't short. He covers your arm with his and tries to be your space heater, cheek sliding over your forehead. 
“Eddie…” You hug him with tenderness. Eddie’s reluctant to say cuddle, but it’s close. “This might be a surprise to you, but I think it’s worth the rain and the cold to see you. Especially when you do this.” 
“What am I doing?” 
“You’re rubbing my arm.” 
He hadn’t noticed his hand caressing up and down your arm where it rests on his stomach. 
“You make me feel amazing,” you say, dropping your face into his chest. 
That’s his last straw. Eddie gets both arms around you and cuddles you (it’s a cuddle, okay! he’s a loser!) to him, arms tight but not cruel. All this fuss and you’re finally laying on top of him. He decides he won’t ask you after all. He’s not that brave, and he doesn’t want this to end. 
Your legs fall onto him. You relax completely. Even after you shower he can smell your perfume. 
“You smell nice,” he murmurs. 
“It’s on my hoodie,” you murmur back. 
Right. Eddie should remember. 
“You make everything smell like you.” Even his van keeps your scent most days. 
“Too much?” 
“The right amount,” he says firmly. 
You lay on his chest for a while, just breathing. Eddie rubs your back, tells himself he will ask, actually, because he can’t imagine not getting to do this again. You might even stay over. He could live hours of this. He didn’t know having you lay on him could make him feel like this. 
He can’t believe you’ve never done it before. 
Rain pounds the window. Condensation drips down onto the sill. You let your legs stretch out flat and then manoeuvre to be laying half atop him, hoodie riding up your back. 
“Any warmer now?” he asks.
“Yeah, you’re warming me up.” You lavish in his arms for a moment, and then lift your face. “Oh, this is a bad angle.” 
“For me or you?” 
“For me, duh.” 
Eddie doesn’t think you could have a bad angle. He rubs at your upper arm as you start to shift. “You know, your bike has just as big a chance of getting hit by lightning as your car does. More, probably.” 
“You think so?” 
“It’s physics. So, please don’t do it again.” 
You hum. “Hm, should I risk getting struck by lightning, or spend the evening without you?” you murmur, your arm moving, moving slowly, your hand resting gently on the column of his neck. There’s something ironic in your voice, wry, but your eyes are warm. He’s paralysed. No one has ever spoken to him like you. “I think I’d rather get struck by lightning.” 
You stare at one another. He laughs. You join in, your thumb a pressure at his neck, and when you move up his chest to lean in, he isn’t expecting it. 
“We’re very close together,” you whisper. 
“Super close,” he whispers back. 
“…Eddie, can I ask you something?” Your eyes slip shut, your lips so close that something in him aches, just enough wit about him to cup your shoulders in his forearm. 
“Yeah.” 
He doesn’t sound half as calm as you do. 
“Would you… Do you think we could be official? Would you want that?” You tilt your head to the side. “Is that stupid?” 
“Official?” he asks, panicked, his eyes squeezed shut hard enough for a moment that they ache.
“Like, you’d be my boyfriend. I’d be your girlfriend. We’d be close like this all the time.” 
Eddie panics so hard he just says the first thing that comes into his head, “Like, we’d kiss?” 
“I hope so,” you say, your nose pressing against his, the tip to the side of his, and then against his nostril. The heat of your breath is hard to ignore. “What do you think?” 
What does Eddie think about it? 
He catches your lips in a slow kiss. Achingly slow, not even sure it’s a kiss until you reciprocate, and your fingers dig behind his neck to tease his hair. Your lips part against his, the heat of your tongue sudden and undeniable —Eddie didn’t know you had it in you. He squeezes you to him, attempting to crane his neck downward, reliant on your enthusiasm as you move up, as you use his neck to pull yourself closer. 
Your noses crush together, and it actually hurts. “Sorry,” he says, easing you back, “you okay?” 
“‘Nother kiss,” you say hopefully, distractedly. 
He can’t not give it to you. 
Your hand spreads flat against his chest and you kiss, you kiss, long and slow movements against him before turning your head to take it again. Eddie doesn’t always know what to do with himself, but he knows kissing, no matter what anybody might think about him, and he takes the lead. 
His hand screws into a fist against your hoodie, the slip of your back further exposed as you shiver into his mouth, a sound you shouldn’t make sweet on his tongue. 
You pull away, breath on his lips. “Wanted you to kiss me for so long,” you murmur. 
Eddie knows you’re not saying it to flirt, and that makes it worse. 
“I should’ve kissed you a long time ago,” he says roughly. 
“You wanted to?” 
“Yeah. Yeah, so much, I’m a loser about you–”
“I’m always a loser,” you interrupt, “but especially about you.” 
You scratch your fingers through his hair, encouraging his head down for another kiss. This one rougher but not rough, his arm slips finally behind your head where he’d needed it to be, hooking you in his elbow to keep you in one place. To kiss you soundly, without interruption. Your almost feverish ebbing inward is a dream, your nose rubbing up against his is a fantasy. 
His heart hammers and hammers at his ribs. 
You pull away to let him breathe. “You’re very excited,” you tease lightly. 
Eddie kisses you, breathless. He kisses you so much he’s surprised you allow it, but your thumb rubs his cheek, and he knows he’d been right all along. You want him like he wants you, with startling, mildly pathetic urgency. 
He feels like a fucking prince. Girl of his dreams in his lap, everything he wants, and he didn’t even have to ask. 
Eddie spends a week in bliss. You’re suddenly everywhere, all the time, attached to his hip or some other part of him, and he forgets for seven whole days that he bought you a ring. 
The rain dries up, the Munson emergency fund lives to die another day, and he remembers the ring only minutes before you’re knocking at his door. 
He trips over himself trying to answer it before Wayne, who’s taken to being as painfully embarrassing as is possible for one human being, can get it for him. 
“One day you’re gonna eat shit and break your nose,” Wayne says. 
Eddie yanks open the door. “Yeah, thanks. Hey, beautiful, what’s with the sunglasses?” 
You slide them down your nose. You’re a vision on his front step, not that you’d ever notice your own intrigue. “The sunglasses?” you ask, tucking them away. “What do you think they’re for? Three guesses.” 
He grabs your waist, leaning down out of the doorway so as to save Wayne the agony. “That’s smart,” he says, kissing you quickly in hello. “You’re funny. Need anything before we go?” 
“No, I’m okay. Hi, Mr. Munson!” you add.
“Hey, honey! How are you?” Wayne calls.
You look up into Eddie’s face with an obvious delight. “I’ve never been better.” 
Eddie grins back. 
He waves a quick goodbye to Wayne and then he’s out the door. You grab his wrist and practically dance him to the car, where you offer your keys, and he deigns to drive. From there it’s smooth sailing, familiarity with a better twist, Eddie driving with the windows down and your hands twined on your thigh. Things haven’t changed much since you asked him to go steady, there’s just a whole lot more of this. Touching, kissing, no weird guilt about staring. 
As it turns out, you’re as eager to be laid out in his bed as he is to lay you out. He’s never wanted to kiss you more, and now he’s allowed. 
“Eyes on the road.” 
He leans over to kiss your cheek. The sun has warmed your skin, and his kiss makes you smile. You look pretty no matter the weather. 
“Before we get there, I have something to give you.” He takes his hand from yours to slide the box from his pocket. He holds it up. “But you can only have it if you swear you’ll call me tonight before bed. No excuses. You know exactly what number to call.” 
“Ends with a three,” you say, nodding. 
He sighs. “No, it does not.” 
“I’m kidding! Two one nine seven, I have now committed it to memory.” 
Eddie pays attention to the road, though it’s clear and long heading out of the trailer park and into town. “That deserves a gift.” 
You’re back in your glitters today, a skirt to enjoy the fine weather, a button shirt with a cute triangle collar, you’re lovely as ever, if a tad much for some. Not Eddie. He loves the dark clothes, the tinkling bracelets, the fun way you smile like everything he says is a secret between him and you. People stare wherever you and Eddie go, but as long your arm is sewn through his he couldn’t care less. 
“A gift,” you say, smiling in your way, and taking the box politely. “I don’t think I deserve it for just remembering your number.” 
“You deserved it for less. It’s not much. You can pay me back in three or four amazing kisses. Right here.” He points to the tight juncture beneath his jaw. 
You attempt to lean over and kiss him immediately. He pushes you back, laughing, worsened by your own breathless laughter as you steal one exactly where he’d tapped. 
You settle back down, Eddie’s hand dropping kindly to your knee. “I wonder what it is,” you say. 
“Then open it.” 
“I am!” You pop the box open, it’s springing hinge snapping into place. “Oh, woah. Woah. Where did you get this?” 
It’s a slim ring, with a weirdly shaped band of quality metal around some cheaper but not totally worthless gemstones, of which there are three different colours: a topaz orange, a lime green, and a pinky-red ruby colour centre stage. They have nice cuts. It’s strange as you are, and he knew when he saw it you’d have to have it. 
“If I put it on my marriage finger, are we engaged?” you tease. 
“That one would be way heavier,” he says, giving you a squeeze. 
You slide it onto your middle finger and hold your hand up in the sunshine. It fits in with your other ring nicely, though it is, to Eddie’s pride, far prettier. 
He has half a mind to pull over and kiss each knuckle, but he’s trying to be less dramatic about you. It’s not working. 
“Thank you, Eddie. I love it.” 
“Best boyfriend ever?” he asks hopefully. 
To his mild fear but better pleasure, you climb up onto the console to press three quick kisses to his cheek and jaw, your hand under his ear holding him in tender place. “Best boyfriend ever. Even if you stare too much.” 
“How am I supposed to not?” he asks, with more weight than he’s intended. 
You speak matter of factly for the first time in your life. “I am going to cause an accident,” you promise, attempting to kiss his nose. “A bad one.” 
“Sit down, please.” He lets you kiss his nose, and then jabs you in the side. “Sit down, oh my god! That’s not funny, you’re so pretty I will total your car.” 
“Now who’s not funny?” 
You both laugh at the same time, the unfiltered, un-cute cackling of two idiots with the same sense of humour, and the same wealth of ridiculous honeymoon love. 
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed. if you did, please consider reblogging or commenting!! thanks very much <3
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jesuistrestriste · 3 days
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art would be so enthusiastic about trying for a baby. he’d wanna be balls deep in your pussy at all times 😭🫨😵‍💫
oh YEAH. art donaldson loves to creampie you. once you two have been together for over several years and are actively trying to get pregnant, he realizes something about himself that he hadn't before: he has a breeding kink.
at first it started simple. you tracked your ovulation and whatnot with that little app on your phone, and you two would have sex nearly every night. and nearly every night he'd cum inside of you. it was heaven for him; feeling your gooey walls clench and throb around him as your body milked him for every drop.
one time, when he had you flat on your back in bed, moaning and holding onto his shoulders as he rutted tenderly into your cunt, he caught himself wanting to say hyper-specific dirty things.
"gonna fill you and make you a mommy," he'd wanted to say, "gonna cum until it leaks out of you."
but he hadn't. it was embarrassing, wasn't it? who knows if you'd even like that kinda stuff. this was purely to make a baby. not to indulge him in some secret kink he had. he had kept his mouth shut, and he had finished copiously inside of you. just like he did every time. and he withered afterwards on top of your chest and pouted, but he hid this from you well.
and then a few days later, it all changed.
he was fucking you gently in bed, nothing surprising, when you had started to reach down and rub your clit. he felt you tighten around him, and he thrusted into you a bit faster. as you got closer and closer, some words spilled from your parted lips that caught him fully by surprise.
"fuck me, art," you moaned out, "fill me up completely! i want your babies so bad-!"
and it was like something in him completely snapped.
he let out a guttural groan and instantly shot milky white ropes into your pussy, right up against cervix. spurt after spurt after spurt of him flooded into your body, and he kept himself buried in you up to the hilt for as long as he could. his hands clutched your hips, his eyes rolled back. the orgasm had caught him utterly and wholly off-guard, and he moaned and trembled furiously over you as he rode it out.
after that, he was always vocal during sex about his want to get you pregnant. or rather, to express his love for the process that resulted in getting you pregnant..
he'd put you in doggy, and prone-bone, and cowgirl; claiming that all of these positions helped with conception, but you knew that he just wanted to be able to look and squeeze at all of your curves and soft, plush skin—in all his favorite ways—as he bred your hole.
"fuck, FUCK—! you're gonna be such a good mommy—!" he would gasp into your shoulder when he'd take you from behind.
"you want me to cum deep inside? give you my kids?"
"you wanna make me a daddy? oh god, let me cum— i'm gonna cum! i'm gonna give you everything i've got!"
"keep it all inside!"
you got pregnant that same month. twins.
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shisurus · 1 day
Text
okay i don't have anything smart to add i just genuinely love that these seemingly trivial jokes are actually an important part of his character. we see it throughout the entire manga, how he pushes aside his own frustration and discomfort to accommodate everyone else's and avoid needless confrontation- another example off the top of my head would be the barometz chapter in which he slowly gets frustrated with izutsumi but still tries his best to talk some sense into her calmly and soundly.
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and in contrast, there are very few times he expresses his anger and hurt towards others, and it usually takes a lot for him to finally lose his patience and control.
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i mean, even with kabru he tried to be polite despite the circumstances until the guy said the one thing that triggers an immense sense of shame, hurt and rage in laios. and you know, the manga does say it quite clearly early on. when we are introduced to namari and then to shuro, laios acts all friendly and shows his respect and trust in them despite how things ended between them, and everyone else gets frustrated with him for acting so strange- why are you the one who tries so hard to pacify the rest when you should be the angriest?
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and they don't understand him. they don't know him well enough to be able to understand, but we as readers get to see during the manga that they aren't wrong to question him- he does, in fact, feel all those ugly emotions. and it's when the winged lion finally confronts him that we see to what extent these feelings he buried so deep go, and suddenly all those funny little moments where he sometimes pretends to be mr nice guy speak volumes about his character. honestly, ryoko kui is a master at using jokes in order to define important character traits and this one doesn't fail to amaze me.
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and laios's hatred and rage and deep scars he can't get over aren't shown explicitly during most of these moments i mentioned before, but now you realize there are 26 years of emotional baggage to all of them and they sting. he is angry but he can't say shit, what difference would it make? it won't make his friends choose him instead of themselves when he needed them most, and it won't help his party get any farther. of course, this logic doesn't apply to them- they are absolutely allowed to get angry and it's fine to get mad at him, he can take that.
so after finishing the series it's so clear that he tries his best to avoid clashing with others not just due to the current circumstances and him needing to be a reliable leader but also because he knows that people don't even like him when he tries to show his good sides and hide all the rest, so who the hell would tolerate his rage and despair? who would stay after realizing that he is so deeply flawed he doesn't even like his own being?
but he does get mad. he can't help it, and sometimes it gets out of control and now everyone knows. and it's funny, isn't it? that most of those moments ended up bringing him closer to others. shuro admitting he is envy of him and actually becoming the friend laios thought he was all along, fighting for his sake and waiting for him to come back- believing in him even after he turned into a monster and searching for him the way he couldn't bring himself to do for falin when he learned of what became of her- or kabru being pushed to just let it all out because he couldn't bluff his way out of this one and get to laios any other way, so now they are even. they are both horribly honest with each other and they both choose to stay. a weird way of getting to know each other, but it is what it is.
it's simply... the more laios let himself just be, the deeper his relationships grew. and there's intimacy in being your ugly, weak and furious self around someone and them not leaving you. feeling safe enough to let it be known you are hurt and angry. and he knows that now, too.
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hoshigray · 24 hours
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hellooo! i had an idea i wanted to add onto the sukuna smut you had where he was rebellious student and she was the student body. i was thinking about the reader taking charge of sukuna even after he talked about how she would be under him.
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omfg FINALLY i have time to do this req!! second part to this request.
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; Sukuna and you are college seniors - degradation (bitch, slut, whore) - impact play (spanking) - prone bone + cowgirl positions - breast play + nipple play - cervix fucking- dick piercing (frenulum) - unprotected sex (psa: don't be silly; wrap the willy) - creampies - overstimulation - clitoral play (friction/grinding) - pet names (brat, good girl, pet, princess, woman) - implied blackmail - Sukuna being a sadist fuck, per usual - mention of drool/spit.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k
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“—Khhh! Ahaaa, fuuck, ‘Ryoo, slow do—Ahhnn!!”
“Nnnmm…Heh, dumb pet; think you have any right to tell me what to do…”
Being the president of the student body entails many responsibilities. It’s a highly respectable title expected to be exhibited by the poisest of souls—a soul that you behold and have been recognized with for the past four years of your college life. 
Senior year, a time that was supposed to be a smooth sail, unexpectedly brought its own set of challenges. Despite meticulously planning your major and minor courses, the final year turned out to be a juggling act, with five classes and the added responsibilities of extracurriculars and student government. But at the very least, it’s nothing you- student president- can’t handle.
What is one thing you can’t handle, however, is the man who has you all naked and sweating on his red satin sheets.
Sukuna has you face down to the mattress, a hand on your head to keep your cheek smooshed to the silky sheet, while the other pins you down by the waist. From behind, he ruts into your bare ass with a rough pace, jackhammering his cock into your wet cunt that’s already stuffed with his come from the rounds prior. 
Being in a situation like this is not what you envisioned would happen in your last year of college — let alone with the likes of him. You’d rather wring your own neck than be within arm’s length of Ryōmen Sukuna’s perimeter. The named senior has been on your shit list for the past three years, fucking delinquent, only doing what he wants for his pleasure, rules be damned. 
The exact aspect goes along with you, too; the only reason why you’re allowing this bastard to touch you like this is because of the material he has to bring your reputation down—all these years of hard work threatened to crumble down because of some inappropriate pictures and videos of you. To him, he could care less about releasing them and seeing your life diminish before his very eyes. As for you, you couldn’t let that happen, unable to sleep at night knowing the man you hate with your very being has shit on you for his petty enjoyment. 
So here you are, in the sole bedroom of his apartment, stripped of your clothes, your titles, and your dignity. All bare and nude for this vile man to see and use you as he sees fit in the most raunchy ways. I hate this so much...
“Hey, whore. Quit squirmin’ around like that, and let me finish you off.”
Sukuna slaps your ass for the tenth time that night, the skin of your butt hot and stinging with pain from the impacts and pinches of his nails. The sore feeling spreads with the crash of his pelvis slamming on your rear and his girthy dick churning the velvety texture of your insides. Each pound rocks you to submission, drool exiting your lips to the sheets and sticks to your chin. You’re sure you look like an idiot, all tousled because of his rough demeanor. Too angry with yourself that you fight the tears. I hate this so fucking much…
“—Ohhh!!” You wail out, eyes rolling up to your skull from the brush of your cervix. “Nnoohh!! F-Fuuuck! Ahaahnn...!”
The man above you snickers wickedly. “Keheh, look at you, crying like a real bitch in heat.” Another slap to your asscheek has you scream some more; your vocals are dragged out by his fingernails, piercing your inflamed skin. “Shit, can never get enough of this tight pussy. Never expected someone like you to be so good at wringing cock, prez.”
“Mmmph…! Go f–fuck yer’self, Ryōmen…” Even if he has your head pinned, your persistence furls you to throw a glare his way. 
But it only humors the tattooed senior above you. “And bore myself when there’s a perfect piece of ass that can take me?” He slams his pelvis harshly and jabs to your cervix by the tip prompts tears to strike down. “Though you were smarter than that, woman.”
You grit your teeth when Sukuna increases the speed of his thrusts; the piercing of his frenulum rubs on your inner walls without fail. Toes curl from another hard smack to your butt, nearly biting the skin of your bottom lip from yet another twinge of pain. 
“Taaah, ughhh, ohmyGoood…!” You can sense your cunt begin to throb–your orgasm is about to hit. “Su’kunaa, please slow downnn, I’m so–I’m gonna…Mmfffaaa!!”
Shocks tingle up your spine with the climb of your climax crashing down, your vagina contracting around the girthy length burrowing deep inside you. Howls are expressed with a euphoric tone despite the soreness of your poor, aching body. And Sukuna groans at the feeling of you clamping onto him, using slow movements of his hips to enjoy the contraction.
“Hnngh..! Dumb brat, thinkin’ you’re free to cum without my say-so.” A playful slap to your butt has you jolt, your figure still sensitive with your hazy high. It’s not like I didn’t tell you to slow down, you asshole. You sharply gasp at the withdrawal of his member, and his load exudes out with a sloppy force that messes your inner thighs. He then bends to your ear, his cold, sweaty chest sticking to your back. “Dirty slut chasin’ for yer own release. Have you no shame, princess?”
Stop talking to me… You were disgusted by the shudder you felt as he licked your ear.
“Thanks to you, I’m still hard,” he rubs his solid dick on the crevice of your ass, his come-coated member erotically grinding on the soft flesh. “Now stay fucking still ‘till I’m done with you—”
Rarely does Sukuna find himself perplexed. One moment, he’s proudly stationed above you. Then, you surprised him by rolling him to his back in a flash. The action takes him aback–somewhat amazed you could take his weight–and he sees your figure come over with your legs on either side of his waist. 
Now, you were on top of him—a rarity that neither of you expected.
Pinkish orange brows remain neutral, yet his piercing scarlet eyes bore holes into your frame. “And just the hell do you think you’re doing?” 
“What it looks like I’m doing.” You reply with a tiny malice — enough you knew wouldn’t get you into too much trouble with the man you’re on top of. Your hand grasps on Sukuna’s cock and strokes the erect limb. “I’m finishing you off.”
Did you gulp at the motion of a single brow being lifted? Of course you did. Albeit you were stubbornly confident, you’d be a fool if you weren’t frightened. Yet the man sneered after a few brief seconds. “Is that right? The president thinks they can do all the work, huh.” You observed Sukuna bringing his hands to relax behind his head, “Well, what are you waitin’ for? Take care of your fellow student, Miss Prez.”
I hate his ass so fucking much—you can only express your disdain through your inner dialogue, wanting nothing but to wipe that evil sneer off his tattooed face. Yet you know that’s not what’s expected of you now. So, with a gulp and a slow inhale, your hips are pulled up by yourself, and your hand guides the pulsing length in your grasp to your leaking slit. 
You gasp at the contact of his glans kissing your labia, the sight of the some dripping from your vagina sticking to Sukuna’s girth was too repulsive to the eye. Humiliation continues to shrink your core at the display before you. “Don’t keep me waiting, woman. Or I’ll go back and do the job myself, seeing you’re too scared.” The salmon-haired man doesn’t flinch at your scowl. 
“Don’t rush me, Ryōmen,” you threaten with gritted teeth, chewing on your bottom lip as you bring your ass down to take in the fat tip once more. The pain has you wince for a few seconds, hoping to God that the man below doesn’t get too impatient enough to slam you down on his cock himself because you know he wouldn’t give a damn if you’d be in pain or not.
But it does enter you; a sharp gasp erupted out of your frame at the scrape of his frenulum piercing back inside. Your hands involuntarily find something to keep your balance steady, using his chest to do the job.
As for Sukuna, his crimson eyes were honed in on you, taking in every detail of your expressions, your shaky voice, and the twitches of your body as your cunt swallowed every inch of his shaft back into your warmth until you reached the very hilt. “Good girl,” he scoffs at the sudden squeeze of your walls on him. “Don’t get a little praise get to your head; start moving, pet.”
You release a gradual sigh, and your hips begin to move. Your nerves are still under the effects of the recent climax, so your inner walls are still keen as every graze of Sukuna’s tip and piercing has you tremble like a leaf. It almost makes you scared to move entirely, thinking one wrong move will break you. 
“C’mon, Y/n,” you gasp at Sukna’s hands, finding your exposed chest to grope. “Is this the best you can do? With those slow-ass hips?”
You knew he meant to entice you, yet it was working. Your waist gauges the speed of your rhythm, now bouncing on Sukuna’s length with a purpose despite your sensitive nerves having you mewl. And your shrills come out slurred at the rough tweak of your nipples. This fool has no gentle bone in his body, using your sore body in whatever interests him. 
“Mmnngh, yeah, like that,” Sukuna purrs, fondling your breasts with fingers hungry for their flesh to play and tease. “Harder” wasn’t something to question—a simple demand you had to indulge in. You flatten your mouth as you bring your hips down more to the point that the skin of your ass hits his groin and thighs. “Harder,” he commands again, your hips now slamming hard down on him, and you shake at the poke of your cervix, nails digging into his pectorals. And the black-marked man snickers at the display. “Harder.”
You couldn’t keep your frame upright; another pound of your hips onto him caused another poke of your cervix, resulting in you losing your balance and your body falling onto Sukuna’s, who barks a laugh. “Tah, pathetic, can’t even stay upright when taking my cock.” And to make it worse, he criticizes you, his hands now moving to your butt to squeeze and slap onto. “I like the view, though. Not every day do I see a pretty face above me like this.” You scream at the buck of his hips, his dick rubbing on your G-spot with precision. “Just need some help to ease your incompetence, princess.” 
Oh, you hated how close your face was to his; if you weren’t so dazed, you’d spit at him. “—Tch, s-shut up, ‘Kunaa! Go die—Eeyaahh!” Another slap on your asscheek and graze on the upper wall of your cunt has you shrieking.
“Not a chance,” his face gets closer to yours. “Wouldn’t give you the satisfaction…” And then your moan is muffled with the addition of his lips onto yours, the Ryōmen Sukuna kissing you.
When the night couldn’t get any worse, here is Sukuna shoving his tongue into your mouth, exchanging his saliva with yours as your tongue swirls with his before he sucks on it. Fucking sickening, the nerve of this fucker! You hate how passionate the kiss became as his thrusts coincided with yours, getting faster and faster as your teeth clashed with his. My God, just fucking cum already!
You decided it was time to end this session once and for all, the pace of your hips going erratic. Every bounce of your ass came with a twinge of your cunt around Sukuna’s member; the groans he expresses into your lips are just what you’re looking for. And the more you bend forward, the friction of your clitoris grinding on his pelvis gets better. At least you’re getting some pleasure out of this…
You knew he was close to chasing his orgasm the moment his ruts to your cunt synced with yours, so it’s no surprise his fingers grip your butt and keep you grounded on him as he spills another load into you. Fuck, you can feel his cock pulsating inside you, and you can only imagine how messy it looks down there once you’re finally off of him.
Even as he’s experiencing the shocks and trembles of his release, Sukuna doesn’t break the kiss until the very end. A hand comes to the back of your head, keeping your face and mouth on him, deepen the kiss and take your breath away (literally). And once your bodies calm down, his lips finally withdraw from yours, leaving you two panting heavily among yourselves. Spit connects to your lips, but you quickly break the link with your hand covering your mouth.
“Ya know,” Sukuna breathlessly chuckles while his other hand kneads the flesh of your butt. “Think you’re startin’ to enjoy this just as much as I am.”
Eyes narrow at his words, and you turn to the side to spit his saliva out of your mouth. You wipe your mouth with a tiny grin. “You fucking wish…”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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chlorinecake · 1 day
Note
Thoughts on stalker x stalker??
— 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐣𝐲
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▹ PAIRING: stalker ex bf ! jake x stalker ex gf ! reader
▹ SUMMARY: You and Jake, exes torn apart, developed a mutual obsession with each other overtime, the lingering romance coming to light with a simple flash of his camera…
▹ WARNINGS: BIG DICK JAKE who records a lil sextape of him fingering you because he's a helpless titty fixated perv, unprotected sex (cowgirl), some crying, a brief handjob and fingering session, kinda angsty
▹ WORD COUNT: 3.5k
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���Do you really see better with those glasses on?”
Jake's chocolate brown eyes peeked at you through his specs, a gentle hum rumbling from his throat before answering.
“No. I mostly wear them for the art student aesthetic I’m going for… now don't smile, pretty.”
Snap.
You let the small smile on your face relax at his instructions. “And the other reason?” You pressed, watching as he angled the lens a little higher over you this time.
“Hm, dunno... maybe because cute girls always ask about them?”
You hated it whenever he talked about other girls—
Snap.
Another click of his camera sounded throughout the quiet studio, it’s white flashes lighting up the dim room.
“So you like the attention then?” You teased, watching as his facial expression remained nonchalant.
Focused.
“Your attention? Yes,” he admitted, narrowing his eyes behind the camera. “Might be one of my favorite things, actually…”
Snap.
Good answer Jakey, you thought to yourself, trying your best to keep a neutral facial expression before him.
“One of your favorites just like old cameras, apparently...” you went on… “How come you never use the new one I bought you for your birthday last year?”
“Because,” Jake answered while lining his eyes up with the camera lens, “this one is much easier for me to carry around... I like that it’s portable...”
Why would he need a camera on the go, you asked yourself silently… even though, the reality was that Jake had actually dropped the other camera while following you one night—
Snap.
“Jeez, how many more shots do you need, Peter Parker?”
“You'll know when I'm finished,” the dark eyed boy replied with a foreign rasp to his tone, index finger gently squeezing into the camera button as he continued. “Now stick your tongue out for me.”
“I'm sorry?”
Snap.
His unusual sentence really caught you off guard this time, a feeling of chills washing over you as he took his lower lip into his teeth.
“Beautiful,” he said almost breathlessly, “just try following my directions next time though, yeah?”
“Jake, I need a break...” You sighed, changing your position on the couch as his vision remained glued behind the camera.
“In a minute, ____…”
Snap.
He used your first name on purpose because you used his, and he knew you were the type of girl who didn’t like that very much.
“I said that’s enough, alright?”
You slightly raised your voice at him, his demeanor remaining just as calm as before once a prolonged sigh escaped his throat.
“I suppose five minutes of wasted time wouldn’t hurt,” he said sarcastically, placing his red camera on the stool beside him before extending a hand, helping you off the couch.
“Thanks,” you replied half-heartedly, grabbing the large white sheet from the couch arm and wrapping it around your naked body.
“I could never get tired of this honestly,” Jake confessed, watching you intently as you poured yourself a cup of water from the nearby cooler.
“Tired of what?” You asked in between your first sip, his eyes being all over you except your face as you spoke.
“Looking at you,” was all he said for you to roll your eyes at his words, making him chuckle at your reaction.
“I’m serious, y’know that?”
“Mhm… I can tell,” you smirked with a nod, taking the last sip of your water before making your way back over to plop on the couch. “How about you go over your pictures… you’ll never know if we caught the perfect one already if you don’t check…”
He didn’t verbally respond to your suggestion, only nodding in agreement as he reached for the camera, clicking through its film.
To no one’s surprise, Jake, who doubled as your pervy ex-boyfriend and personal neighborhood stalker, felt himself getting hot all over again just from looking at the pictures of you displayed on the grainy screen.
Today's excuse to photograph you? He needed a nude model for his chiaroscuro themed visual project at the fancy art university he attended.
You knew Jake would’ve a hard time finding any other female (or male) to willingly get naked for him, so you obliged… under the small condition that he wouldn’t try to fuck you afterwards.
Simply put, your infatuation with him always made it easier to agree to whatever stupid favors he needed you to do—
“God,” he groaned under his breath, taking a seat as an attempt to hide the boner slowly growing behind his pants.
“Damn, are they really that bad?” You asked with worried brows, misinterpreting his reaction.
“N-no, not at all,” he corrected, eyes still glued to the camera screen.
“Oh... well… okay then,” you sighed with relief, or maybe it was a yawn?
The studio AC was set to such a low temperature that you couldn't help but feel a little sleepy... especially with how mundane this whole model process was getting to be.
“Can I see the pictures?” You asked, making Jake's eyes widen slightly at your request. He knew it'd be suspicious to say no so he instead gave in, reluctantly handing you the camera.
Clicking the left arrow on the circular directional button, the gallery scrolled, picture after picture, with each slide shocking you with how good they came out.
“Lovely, aren't you?” Jake nearly whispered from behind you as he leaned over the couch, his hands pulling your hair out of the tussled bun he previously styled it in for the first part of the photoshoot.
For the next series of shots, he planned to go for a more natural look, taking your hair down to let it hang as the scent of your shampoo ignited him all over again.
Jake couldn’t stop himself from grinding his hard-on against the back of the couch, eager for any sort of friction that would ease the tension building up inside him.
You felt the teeth of the comb meet your scalp as he continued to comb, the simple act somehow making it even harder for him to control himself.
“You're really talented at this,” you said, just before your eyes glazed over the series of pictures following the one's he'd just taken of you.
Some were from recent trips you took to the supermarket, events you don't fully remember, and even a few scandalous shots of you through your apartment window, changing out of your work clothes—
“Thanks, but I prefer giving credit to the actual person I'm shooting,” he added, looking over your shoulder as you turned the camera off, just before he got a chance to see what you were looking at.
Though, from the almost immediate shift in the studio's aura, Jake had developed a pretty good inkling in his chest as to what you might've seen.
Your throat tensed up, chest expanding slightly with each exhale as a smile grew on Jake's face.
“Just let me know if I'm being too rough, alright?” He started, sectioning out your bangs as his hand slid around your neck, gently cradling your chin upward.
“Jake,” you choked out weakly, a shaky moan slipping past your lips as the comb got caught in a particular knot in your hair, “t-take your time, please...”
You stuttered, hoping in your heart that he wouldn't make a big deal about it.
In truth, you often watched Jake from afar yourself, not being able to get over your obsession with him, even months after you two first broke up…
Your eyes had a way of chasing stolen moments—the curve of his lips as he sipped coffee on his way to class, or the way his personal style slowly changed from denim coats and Timberland's to leather jackets and black boots.
You saw it all, seeking after it as often as you could… using it as a means to coax your own lonely desire for him.
Still, you couldn't quite shake how strange it was to see his gallery filled with images of you from every angle and emotion, even though it eventually delighted you to know that he wasn't as interested in other people as he let on—
“I'm in no rush, ____,” he said plainly, trying to redirect the energy in the room, “just relax for me... I'm not trying to hurt you...”
He chose his words wisely, releasing his hold from around your neck before making his way over to the wall where he dimmed the lights even more.
“I know, Jake,” you nearly whispered, wind flowing from the slightly opened windows as your voice flew with its gust…
“But how long have you been watching me?”
His wrists froze at your question, a mix of relief, guilt, and fear rising within every part of his body.
You turned your gaze towards him, eyes locking to reveal a mirror reflecting your similarly twisted desires, the tension screaming with ambivalence…
“Since we broke up...” He confessed, eerily loud footsteps sending shivers down your spine as he paced against the wooden floor, walking towards you, “does that bother you, love?”
You stammered at first, gentle grasp clinging to the white sheet around you. “It doesn't, Jake... not at all,” you finally mustered, watching as he licked his lips because God, he was such an anxious perv for you...
The way you looked before him in this moment, both fear and recognition present in your features as your body remained still as stone, every natural highlight of your skin looking even more gorgeous beneath the dim lights.
This entire moment was all too much for him… You were too much for him…
Slowly creeping towards you, his intense energy did nothing but make your arms sprout with tiny bumps all over.
“Good,” was all he said at first, trying to digest your body language while freeing himself from his jacket, “but I'm guessing there's something you might wanna come clean about, too, hm?”
“I… yes,” you admitted, somehow regaining your initial confidence, “since you wanna hear me say it so badly... I haven't exactly been able to get over you, either...”
He smirked at your honesty, “How bad has it gotten? The withdrawal, I mean... d'you ever think about me when you touch yourself?”
“Cute, but no...,” you scoffed, “I prefer hands-free fantasizing instead... less mess for me to clean up alone,” you smiled teasingly, tracing the arch of his jawline with your index finger.
It almost felt foreign when you did that just then...
You hadn't touched him like that in months... and even though the act was ordinary, it made you feel something intense—
“I need to take a few more shots of you like this,” he said randomly, reaching for his camera but not sitting on the opposite couch this time.
He stayed right in front of you, joining you on the couch and slightly caging you beneath his frame.
“Trying a new angle I see... these gonna be for your project or—”
“I'm gonna keep these for myself,” he interrupted, snaking his free hand beneath the sheet and lightly caressing the flesh of your thigh before kneading it, dangerously close to your core. “Just make sure you follow my instructions like I asked...”
You nodded at his words, letting your lower body relax as he gently guided your legs open, the sheet falling from over you boobs and exposing them to the air as he grazed your pussy lips with his fingers.
Jake nearly drooled at the sight of your hard nipples, clicking with his tongue to make you look back at the camera. “Start by squeezing your tits together for me,” he started in a low voice, “wanna see how well they’d suffocate my dick…”
The poor guy was still very much hard right now, and it didn't help him one bit with how wet you felt against his fingers, his skilled touch circling your clit as a feathery moan left your lips.
“C’mon pretty, do as I say…” Jake cooed, pointing the camera to you as you did just that, arching your back over the sofa arm while squeezing your tits together, his fingers quickening against your sensitive bud as he kept recording.
You're not sure what came over you just then, but you were starting to feel more than willing to do whatever Jake asked of you, especially when his fingers worked on teasing your initial tightness.
His digits curved against your g-spot, the pressure he applied only escalating as his stiff cock started leaking in his pants.
This entire moment felt strangely nostalgic, reminding you of the many times Jake would stand over while making you cream with just his fingers—
“Tell me when you're close, baby… beg for me to let you come,” he huffed, voice sounding somewhat labored as he intently watched your chest heave up and down, biting his lower lip to stop himself from kissing you.
Because as badly as he wanted to taste you, he had to capture your bliss on camera first, for the nights that memories become too vague... for the nights when fantasies don't compare to the real deal...
Your whole body was a mix of hot and cold, given the temperature of the room and the sexual energy meddling between your excited bodies.
“J-Jake…” you stuttered with a whine, clinging to the couch as your face flushed a ruddy hue, walls desperately clenching around his fingers, “please...l-let me come for you…”
The poor boy didn't know what to do with himself given how wet you were, his puppy-dog eyes looking almost in awe now that the realization had hit him:
He finally got you where he wanted you… and from your perspective, the likewise…
“You can let go now baby,” is all Jake manages to say before you're coming undone, the knot in you abdomen unraveling throughout every limb of your body as pure pleasure coursed through your starved out veins.
Jake kept the camera on your body the entire time, too, his digits only slowing down slightly to help you ride out your high.
He hadn't even fully slipped from your hole yet before a feeling of emptiness washed over you, lust-ridden eyes following Jake’s every move as his veiny hand retreated from your core.
He caught on to it, too... the way your eyes panned in on him like your own built in set of camera lenses... capturing every movement to store in your favorite mental file.
“Fuck,” Jake groaned around his own fingers suddenly, tasting the milky slick he gathered from your hole, “been missing the taste of you so bad, angel...”
“Then kiss me,” you whispered heavily, a clear sheen of Jake's saliva mixed with your sweet release painting the cupid's bow of his pouty lips.
He didn't hesitate to take heed to your words either, setting the camera down with haste before hovering back over you on the couch, not even guiding your face as he kissed your lips, humming into the contact.
The feeling of Jake's sloppy textured tongue against yours sent shivers down your spine, his hot breath doing nothing but heat up the warmth already present between your legs.
His heart pounded against his ribs as the kiss continued, his glasses eventually fogging up from how intense the contact was, compelling you to push him away for a seconds to remove his glasses, your own heart fluttering at his flushed demeanor.
“I need to touch you... r-right now,” you choked out breathlessly, not even bothering to cover your naked body now that the sheet was slipping to the floor.
It was a bit awkward at first, you'll admit, being completely naked while Jake was fully clothed. You grew tired of undressing him with your eyes and knew you had to do something about the issue throbbing behind his pants.
Before Jake could even respond, you were already pushing him back against the other side of the couch, his head plopping on the sofa arm with a gentle thud, fluffy brown locks framing his face.
The shadow of a smirk meddled over his handsome features as you eagerly yet patiently worked on unzipping his pants, the thick mound from his clothed hardness making your head spin.
There was really no point in taking things slow with him in this moment because its not like you two haven't already fucked each other before... only difference now was that it had been a while, so the nerves had built up—
“It's so red,” you remarked with a whisper, just having shimmed Jake's pants down enough for you to get his cock out, “does it hurt?”
“I'll let you know once you start touching it,” he let out with a relaxed breath, eyes once again focusing on the way you sat before him with your tits out on full display.
You took his comment as some sort of green light, gently taking his length in your grasp and pumping it in long, drawn out strokes.
His thighs were already trembling, hips grinding up into your first to gain a bit more friction.
“Fuck, stop teasing, ____,” he groaned with half-lidded eyes, wrapping his hand around yours to manually control the pace.
You let out a laugh at his neediness, swatting his hand away so you could take over again, “This is all apart of the foreplay, Jake... you know I'll be riding your cock properly before the night's out, anyways...”
Deep down, you were having just a little too much fun toying around with Jake right now, but given the sexually frustrated furrow of his eyebrows, you decided to be nice and just let him have you already.
Still pumping his shaft in your hand, you sat up on your knees to straddle him, lining up his tip with your entrance before letting your weight sink onto him, struggling to adjust to his size given how long its been since you took him.
A quiet curse fell from Jake's lips as he watched you wiggle past his mushroom tip, his veiny hands reaching forward to help you completely reach his pelvis.
You let out a shaky whimper at the sudden feeling of fullness, covering your mouth with the back of your hand to stop yourself from making any more pained sounds.
“There you go, pretty... nice and easy...” Jake cooed while still gripping the flesh of your hips, mostly because if he didn't, he would've started thrusting into you, “do you wanna stop?”
“N-no,” you practically blurted out, thighs still feeling tense despite how badly you wanted this with him, “I want you to make me cum again, Jakey... I can take it...”
Your words were like magic to his ears, his strong hand guiding your body against his as he left a tender kiss to your cheek before holding you in place, his dick moving in and out of you at a steady pace that escalated in a matter of seconds.
To be honest, you were shocked by Jake's adrenaline, your body already shaking beneath his arms as he held onto you tighter, grunting with each time your desperate walls clenched around him.
His balls bounced to the rhythm of his powerful thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin making you shut your eyes tightly in pleasure, whining frantically at the mix of sensations.
Your eyes started to sprout with tears, damping Jake's shoulder as he fucked against your g-spot, making it nearly impossible for you to hold in your delighted screams.
Pouring out a string of whiny moans, your body subconsciously moved with his hips, Jake catching on to your reactions rather quickly as he whispered a sultry “You like that, baby?” against your neck, your head nodding lazily as you looked into each other's eyes, right before your lips crashed into his. 
“I missed this so fucking badly, Jake... 'missed being this close to you,” you let out weakly, one of his thumbs going to wipe the tear of moisture sliding down your face as he kept rutting into you.
“I know, angel,” he panted, kissing you on the center of your lips before pulling back, his tip reaching the furthest its ever been inside your pussy as you rocked your hips against his, wobbly pleas of pleasure slipping past both your lips before you felt yourselves reach your peaks.
“Aww, f-f... shit,” you whined, Jake's hips still pivoting against you despite how strong the orgasm was, your thighs trembling as you felt your walls tighten around him.
“That's it, baby,” Jake cooed through heavy breaths, reeling out more of your pretty moans as he rode out your high for the last time, holding you close to him, “let it all out, angel...”
You let your legs relax, just as Jake sat himself up straight, delicate lips kissing along your jawline as he whispered against your skin, “Now you belong to me again…”
And there it was, two twisted souls basking in the very web of obsession the sewed together, a lost love blossoming yet again from a matter of stolen glances and a series of clandestine photographs bringing you back together again.
You internally yawned at the feeling of Jake's lips against you, his possessive words only making your heart sing as you reached down for the sheet, draping it over both your spent bodies...
“I've always been yours, Jake,” you smiled sincerely, ruffling the hair atop his head before falling back into his embrace, letting yourselves snuggle into the plush cushion of the couch, “even when you left me first...”
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▹ Author's Note: This story is a work of fiction and does not intend to romanticize the harmfully obsessive behaviors described between the two characters. Real-life stalking is not okay my guys, so please, don’t be a sasaeng and instead seek healthy relationships !
▹ Perm Taglist ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 ) : @squoxle @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @addictedtohobi @ot7sevenlvr
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softlee · 3 days
Text
;Submission to Coquette - lee minho.
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Copyright © 2024 softlee
Pairings: Lee Minho x Reader
Word Count: 7.3K
Genre: pwp (well maybe just a little plot), smut, fluff, established relationship, domestic relationship!AU
Synopsis: You take on the challenge of making your boyfriend "Coquette". Will you succeed? Minho only has so much patience when you request him to be submissive. So, ultimately trying to tie him up and use him might be his breaking point.
Warnings: Minho constrained in pink ribbon. Do I really need to add more? Grinding, Bondage via ribbon I suppose, squirting, light dirty talk, reader attempts to be dominant but really how far can that go with Minho? Oral (female and male receiving), and Minho shenanigans (minho just being minho).
Notes:  I was supposed to finish this at the beginning of the year when the coquette trend came out on Tiktok. This trend on TikTok IMMEDIATELY made me think of Minho, I just think this theme fits him perfectly. I mean? When I saw this picture on TikTok of this guy in ribbon my mind immediately went to Minho. I hope you guys enjoy it cause I know I did making it :) 
Here's a TikTok off the overall idea/theme of this fanfic: here
ENJOYYYYY :D
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With the telling ding of Minho’s cellphone in his left pocket on his way home from work, he already had an inkling on who the sender was.
It was, as he suspected, a message from you—his girlfriend, his girl, his lover, his other half.
But to you? No, you were only his errand runner when it came to things you needed before he made his familiar trail back to your shared apartment. 
You: I know you don’t wanna go but can you pleaseeeeeeee get me some pink ribbon before you come home? :) [4:56 PM]
Minho lets out an agitated sigh before washing his hand over his disgruntled worn out face; A repercussion of his stressful day at the office. 
He waited for you to finish typing your thoughts because he knew you weren’t done.
You are his other half after all.
You: Please? It’s for you xox [4:57 PM]
“It’s for me?” He exaggeratedly stated in his mind while he skillfully dogged a piece of gum on the sidewalk before trudging forward more. 
He scoured every crevice of his mind to come up with the most plausible reasoning as to how himself and pink ribbon correlate in some way. 
After a few determined seconds of thinking, he came to the conclusion that there were none and therefore, there was no way in hell he was stopping at the store for pink ribbon of all things. It just wasn’t going to happen. Minho was stubborn and if he set his mind to something, it was going to stay that way. Forever. 
Minho isn’t one to be easily swayed. 
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“I can’t believe you actually stopped to get the ribbon for me!” Minho is greeted at the door of your shared apartment with a love bomb attack. Arms and legs hurling towards him until they somehow get caught into his arms, you attached with them funny enough. 
You’re hugging him, and kissing him like this is the last moment you are together. Peppering his nose, forehead, and cheek with kisses before Minho becomes overstimulated by all the touching and he’s grunting in protest and faking a look of annoyance, face scrunching like he’s trying to get away from your assault of love. 
He’ll truly never admit it to you but this part of the day, almost like the day was mirroring itself every weekday was his favorite part; you meeting him at the door once you got the satisfying notification that your boyfriend was back home. 
Pecking him all over his face like you were some kind of bird.
He’ll never admit it. 
The bag with the ribbon of course fell onto the ground when you flung yourself onto him. 
Minho with his cat like hearing of course hears this, not even looking. 
“Look you probably messed the ribbon up by the way you violently threw yourself at me. It’s almost like you don’t even want it.“ He teases, feeling you slither your way out from the corner of his neck to fully make eye contact with him. The little smirk he has plastered all over his face is slyly gone once you're peering at him. 
“Of course I want it! I was just excited to see you! I haven’t seen you all day.“ You whine a little before Minho gives you a glaring stare, of course none other than to surprise you with a peck to the lips, softly letting you down onto the hardwood floor. 
You quickly swoop to floor level to retrieve the bag with your latest conquest, discarding the bag and holding the spool of pretty pink silk ribbon in your hands before you wiggle your eyebrows in what he would expect to be a playful way. 
“This.” You point at the ribbon, “is going on you.” You smile enthusiastically, pulling your boyfriend by the arm to walk him over to the couch.
He feigns annoyance, throwing his head back in an exaggerated way while making an ungodly noise. He looks like a little boy who is being dragged by his mother because he’s gotten in trouble. 
“Can I at least eat first? I'm tired and just got back from work.” Indirectly trying to crawl his way out of whatever the hell you were trying to do; Minho wasn’t going to let you win without a fight. That’s just how he’s always been. He’ll nag and nag some more, but since he loves you, he'll eventually give up.
Right?
“I promise if you do this for me right now, I’ll make you something yummy.” You traverse your eyes on his own, watching as you get no physical reaction out of him. 
He plops down onto the couch. 
You stand in front of him, both hands on your hips quicking scanning your brain to figure out what exactly you can make to get him to comply. 
Suddenly a light bulb switches on in your mind and you gleam, crawling into your boyfriend's lap, disregarding the ribbon on the side of the couch for right now. 
Throwing your hands around his neck, “How about ramen and kimchi? I think we still have some kimchi left over.” You swivel your head over to the direction of the refrigerator. In comparison, Minho refuses to acknowledge you on his lap, the dinner choices, and how you on his lap is suddenly clouding his judgment.
You turn back to face him. 
“I’ll make you some pork belly too?” Suddenly Minho is intrigued, giving you his full-facing attention before a little smirk takes over his face, unable to contain how good that sounds in reality. 
Suddenly intrigued by the music in the background he didn’t seem to hear at first, he looks at the TV behind you. 
“Were you just about to play Fortnite before I came in?” He randomly asks in the midst of you discussing dinner options. 
Brows twisted in confusion for a second, they return to their natural state when you remember that you were indeed about to play Fortnite. 
“Oh, yeah I was. The season is almost over and they had Poison Ivy in the Item Shop! I had to get her and play a couple of matches with my new skin!” You protest, feeling the warmth of your boyfriend’s arms slide around your waist, fastening you to his body. 
He displays a toothy grin at your comment. “You’re such a nerd.” Yet when he states this comment, you see nothing but love in his eyes. You smile as well, not about to let him get away with his words. 
“Well, you can’t be the one to talk! You also-”
“Fine, I’ll do it. Now hurry up before you change my mind.” He suddenly states, grasping the ribbon in his palm before he looks up to literally see you light up at the words. 
That’s all he had to say, you immediately withdrew yourself from the warmth of Minho’s lap, telling him to stay put while you go to collect a few necessary items to make your dreams come true. 
You come back in record time, three minutes; Minho watches the array of items engulfed in your arms as you make it back to the sofa of your living room, dropping the items onto the coffee table as if they were somehow heavy. 
“Alright,” You grab the black shirt from the assortment on the table, “Let’s put you into this shirt first.”
You turn the shirt inside out, showing him that it indeed wasn’t a plain black shirt like he thought. It was decorated with the words, ‘I love my girlfriend’ right where the top of his chest would be centered if he were to put it on. The word ‘love’ instead being a familiar red heart. 
He chuckles out of bewilderment, eyes turning into your favorite half moons. 
“When did you get this shirt for me?” He’s intrigued.
“I got it about a week ago in preparation for this exact moment!” You wink at him softly, getting closer to him sitting on the sofa.
“So you’ve been planning this huh?” His eyes are wide, trying to figure out exactly what your evil plans had in store for him. 
He tries to grab for the shirt so that he can put it on, but you bring it closer to yourself, shaking your head.
“You said you were tired right? I’ll put it on for you.” He throws his arms down, somehow not making a fuss about you doing this for him.
“Wowwwww,” you’re amazed, he’s glaring whilst he holds his arms up above his head, waiting for you to pull the shirt he’s been wearing all day, off. 
You reach for the ends of his shirt, pulling upwards, “You’re so obedient right now.” You tease, getting him out of his shirt before you reach for the one you’re exchanging it for. 
You’re now sitting down on his lap again, looking up at him while you get the shirt into formation so you can pull it over his head. He obviously didn’t like what you stated, his dark brown eyes beaming intensely into your own.
You look down quickly to run away from them, meeting direct eye contact with his bare chest. He was definitely getting more toned, the lines of his abs becoming more visible. 
Before you could let his naked upper body distract you, you decide to pull the shirt over his head, and watch as you pull each arm one by one into the short sleeves. 
His hair gets ruffled in the process, looking like he just woke up from a nice long nap.
“Cute.” You giggle at this, before you smooth his hair out, back to its familiar state before you’re taking him all in with the shirt now on, smiling again. 
Minho of course doesn’t like such comments, narrowing his eyes and trying to make himself more intimidating by giving you his signature gaze; eyebrows furrowed and lips in a tight line. 
It doesn’t work on you though, he just looks even cuter earning a hearty chuckle at your motion as you throw your head back. 
You turn around in his lap, eyeing the other items plastered on the table as well. You lose balance a little while doing this, so as Minho does with his quick reflexes, he wraps his arms around your waist.
“Next,” You grab an assortment of your most valuable plushies. “I’m gonna put these around you before we start.”
Minho’s eyes washes over your brightly colored plushies; Kuromi, Hello Kitty, and some other bunny looking creatures he’s forgotten the name’s of. Regardless, he watches you in fascination as you start to place each plushie, one by one onto the sides of him, in the corner where his left shoulder rests, and one remaining one (one of the bunnies) in between where you and Minho meet on his lap. 
He raises one eyebrow. 
“So, where does the ribbon come in with all of this?” He questions, your hands reaching behind you on the table once more to secure the scissors in your hands. 
You also obtain the ribbon that fell between the cracks of the couch cushions, before you gleam at him. “Right now actually. I’m going to make you coquette.”
You gleam.
“Coquette?” He’s so puzzled he manages another smirk, letting out a breathless chuckle. 
You hum in agreement, delicately brushing a hair that has decided to fall where Minho’s left eye lays, his eye twitching in the process.
“I saw this Tiktok trend where girls would tie their boyfriends up with ribbons, and put bows made of ribbon on them. I’ve been wanting to do the same to you in private…. and hopefully get some pictures out of it.” You gulp after saying the last sentence. You look down to see that Minho has now closed his eyes. He breathes exaggeratingly outwards, almost like he’s trying to compose himself. 
“So, you’re doing this because really you want to see me tied up and you want pictures of that?” You instantly turn red, quicking seeking cover into his neck to hide how shy you feel when you say, “Yeah, I think it’s hot. It’s one of the things I’ve always wanted to do to you.”
No matter how hard you sometimes tried to hide your motives Minho always saw right through them. He can read you like a book, and that’s truly why you always just plainly tell him what you’re doing before you do things. 
You slowly uncover yourself from the shelter of his neck, finally peering at him to discover he already is, “One of the things?”
Too embarrassed to even mention what else you’ve always wanted to do to him, you reposition the scissors and ribbon in your hands and start measuring how big you want the bows to be. “Hmmm, how many should I put on you?” You successfully dodge the remark as he crosses his arms, glaring at you and your lack of response.
You squint your eyes while looking over his figure, deciding mentally to place two bows on him while tying his arms up. 
You hold your left hand out like you're waiting for him to give you something. 
“Give me your arms so I can tie them up.” You demand. 
Intrigued, Minho does as you say. “How would you like me to place them?” 
Demonstrating, “Lay them flat out where the sides of my hips are.” The warmth of his touch suddenly surrounds your body once more, Minho covering all of your senses. His perfume still lingering from the reminisces he covered himself in this morning before heading to work, his magnetic gaze that was locked on you and your movements, his voice which suddenly woke you out of your Minho heightened trance, and as for taste….well you were already craving him in more ways than one since he was being like putty in your hands right now. 
His lenient mannerisms and compliancy this evening were working you up in all the right ways. 
“I’m waiting for you to tie me up?” His voice continues. It startles you in some way, never imagining you’d hear those words come out of your mouth. His brow ticks. 
“Oh…right.” You begin lacing the ribbon in a tying motion, starting just short of where his biceps start. 
Minho wasn’t one to be submissive. Everytime you guys engaged in sex, he always naturally was the one to take control. It was just in his nature and it was just in yours to be more submissive, complying to almost anything he proposed. And of course, you thoroughly enjoyed it. 
Although, after being together for about a year and two months, you were ready to try something new. Unbeknownst to Minho, you are actually a switch. Yet after the beginning of your relationship you retired that part of yourself naturally when it came to him, since he was very dominant. 
So when you found this trend, you got the sudden urge to try something new and spice up your sex life with your boyfriend. 
And it wasn’t like you guys were vanilla, but you usually stuck to the things that were not foreign to you as a couple. But, you were ready to step out of that comfort zone. 
And right now, it seems like Minho isn’t too opposed to such an idea. That gives you the confidence to continue.
You finish your makeshift confinements on your boyfriend’s arms by cutting and wrapping the ribbon in a bow before you admire your handiwork. 
You softly smile in satisfaction. 
“Alright, now I’ll make a few more bows and stick them to you in different areas.” You look back down at Minho’s arms, “Is it tight or can you easily get out of the ribbon?”
“I mean, I can’t really get out of it, but if I wanted to then yeah I could.” He answers vaguely before humming, agreeing with himself. 
You narrow your eyes, deciding to trust him. 
You make the two bows you plan to plant on him and then begin to place them. 
Taking one of them and putting them on his head, he just stares at you as you manage to securely place it on his black hair so it isn’t easy for it to fall off. Then lastly, you settle with putting the last ribbon in a peculiar spot. Right on his crotch. 
You press it in for good measure, causing Minho to simultaneously move his hands to grip your ass as he lifts his hips, somehow to chase the feeling of your hands ghosting over his dick. He clears his throat after showing a sign of weakness, looking away from you but not shying his hands away from your ass. 
He actually chooses to grip onto it harder.
You tilt your head in feigned curiosity and innocence. 
“You alright?” 
He seems dazed because he doesn’t answer you for a beat.
“Hmm? Yeah, I’m good. What made you choose to place it there?” He questions, now looking up and directly into your irises. 
You shrug, actually not having a particular reason. You just wanted to see how he would react.
You hum to yourself like you’re somewhat proud of your work.
“So coquette.” You drop this outlandish word again, Minho having enough of not understanding exactly what the hell it means.
“What? What does that even mean?”
“It just means you look pretty I guess. I don’t really know what it means either. It’s just a Tiktok trend.” You slowly start rubbing your hands over his shoulders, letting them fall downwards into his lap. You decide to unleash yourself of his hold by standing up quickly.
You search for your phone, grabbing it off the coffee table and positioning it in front of him to signal you want your photos like promised.
He doesn’t look pleased. 
“Give me a pretty smile!” You give an example of your own before you’re waiting for him to repeat the action. It goes by ignored, instead being met with a nonchalant gaze that screams “I’m being held hostage. Please help me.”
You frown. 
“Please smile. You’re not aligning with what your shirt says. Don’t you love me?” You whine. 
‘Oh, so you’re pulling that card huh.’ He thinks. 
He smirks. 
“Yeah, I heart you. Just like the shirt says.” He goes for the literal meaning of the shirt, wanting to visibly displease you.
You pout. 
“You’re so annoying.”
Finished with the photo torture time, you throw your phone on the other couch in fake irritability, turning to face him yet again while standing. 
You give him a glance over and then softly smile, picking up your arms to do away with your shirt first and then your pants. You were wearing just some comfortable clothing; An old ‘May the force be with you’ Stars Wars T-shirt paired with the Yoda printed sweatpants you frequented about once a week. It was nothing too fancy of course. What came as a surprise was what was under it.
In preparation for the evening, you wanted to dress up for your boyfriend. Specifically in lingerie. White lingerie.
Whenever you wanted to spice up your sex life, or suprise him, you always took extra care of yourself. This meant taking an “everything” shower, putting on perfume, doing your hair, as well as doing some light makeup. And your choices for lingerie sets always happened to be in the colors you thought that looked best on you; red, black, and sometimes your favorite nude set. 
About two weeks ago, Minho suggested that you try a lingerie set in white, as he thought you would also look sexy in that color as well. He liked the other sets, but he thought that color would really look good on you. You were a little hesitant at first, but his suggestion paired with a kiss on your forehead, his credit card, as well as the words “surprise me” were all you needed to go out of your comfort zone. 
And hell, it surely did surprise him. 
You slowly saunter up to him, getting right back into your claimed spot, his lap (throwing the bunny plushie somewhere else on the couch), and wrap your arms around his neck. 
“Do you think this color fits me babe?” You rapidly bat your eyelashes, obviously fishing for compliments. Minho's annoyance from earlier, sleepiness, and hunger completely fades away. His mouth slowly parting in awe. 
“Of course it fits you, you look in anything. God.” He groans, trying to take you all in. 
It was a simple dainty set. A white ribbed corset top with shoulder straps as bows which you tie at the shoulder. There was a collage of cotton flowers joined at the middle of the top, a decorative touch to the already light and airy feel of the lingerie. The bottoms were plain panty underwear, the same cotton flowers in the middle of them as well. 
You looked so good. That’s what he thought to himself before he realized that he had to, no needed to touch you. Right now. 
Right as he does so, his body moving at will is obstructed by the familiar feel of the pink ribbon you had just adorned to his arms, securing him in place. 
“Fuck,” He whines, almost like he’s in pain, “And I can’t even fucking touch you right now?” With all the strength he can muster, he tries to pull outwards to break the ribbon, but he’s too slow. You already knew he’d try something like that, so you, in defense, hold his arms in place.
Suddenly feeling red, you look down.
“You can’t touch me or get out of this ribbon until I say so. You have to do as I say tonight.” Shy, you slowly look up at him again, noticing that his whole demeanor has changed since you’ve uttered those words. 
A light airy chuckle escapes him before he can even hide it.
“What, are you controlling me tonight? Gonna use me?” 
His teasing tone almost sounds like a challenge. He doesn’t think you can do it. Your confidence grows in opposition.
“Yeah, I’m gonna be the dominant one tonight.” You lean in, ghosting over his lips, “And you won’t cum until I say you can.”
You fully press your lips onto his, pulling him as close as you can by wrapping your arms around his neck again, getting a high off of you being the one to order him around tonight. 
It gave you a sense of confidence you’ve never felt when having sex with him, his light moan giving you the confirmation you need to kiss him with a little more fervor. 
You slowly begin to start your pace, your hips beginning to gyrate over the crotch of his black jeans. You feel him reach for you, for something, his hands attempting to latch over the bottom of your ass. 
You smack his hands away, pulling away from the kiss. He desperately chases. You stop your pace.
“You can’t touch me,” You echo again, “I can only touch you? Got it?” Your palms are covering his own, proving your point that he had to do as instructed or he wouldn’t be able to have you. Not in the way he wanted. He throws his head back, as that's the only disobedient way he can act out right now, his long strands of hair sheltering his eyes. 
“Fine, have your way with me. I’ll see how long it’ll truly last. You know you love it when I tell you what to do. When I tell you to fuck yourself on my cock. When I have you cum multiple times on my tongue before I even begin to fuck you. I may not be able to touch you, but I can say whatever I want to you and you’ll be begging me to touch you. ” He mutters, shifting his body deeper into the couch. 
His words send a shiver through your body, the remaining of it fading right into your core. Truly, he was right. You loved it when he touched you, it’s how you completely got off. Yet, somehow denying yourself the satisfaction of feeling his touch and edging yourself was making you wetter than you could even believe.
To you, this was foreplay, and getting the privilege of having Minho in this way was what you could only dream for. You couldn't imagine though, even in your dreams, how he would react to you taking control. That’s what led you to this moment, once again leaning back down to the crook of his neck, whispering. 
“It’s just something I’ve always dreamed of doing to you. It’s one of the things I’ve been wanting to do with you, to you. Now, let me fuck you my way.” You truthfully speak, setting your motion against the fabric of his pants again.
Your boyfriend stays silent, once before being able to stare daggers into your soul, now avoiding eye contact all together. He was clearly flustered. You could tell because he was starting to fill up the space in his pants, his length slowly hardening below you. 
“Awe babe, you’re already getting hard. Tell me how good it feels? Hmm?” You push your pelvis harder into his lap, wanting to get a reaction out of him. 
It’s quiet for a moment. Minho desperately tries not to moan to show the effect you have on him before he gains his composure enough to speak. 
“Tell you how good it feels? How about you stop this charade and explain why you’re already this fucking wet? I can literally feel it through my pants already.” He spits out through his breathing which is slowly getting shallower and shallower. His ears are red, this is how you could tell he was turned on, even if he wouldn't admit it. 
“Of course I’m wet, I have my-” You moan, “My boyfriend in a way I’ve always wanted”
You continue your rebellious movement of your hips against his hardened cock, gasping when it hits your clit in a harmonious way. You look down at your panties, expecting to see your arousal escaping from the thin layer of fabric that is holding you all together. 
To your dismay, there was no visible evidence that you were incredibly wet. But, because of Minho’s comment earlier, you decide to take two of your fingers and check, feeling the remnants of your arousal, making you groan. 
He watches you in suspicion, noticing the way your fingers were easily sliding over the laced cotton of your underwear. His mouth involuntarily opens in awe.
“Ugh, I’m so wet. I’m gonna use you to cum. You can’t take your eyes off of me, okay?” For good measure, you lightly tease your fingers that you just used to touch yourself over his soft lips, Minho taking no time to lick your wetness off your fingers before you lightly rest your hand under the left side of his chin, forcing him to watch you reach your high.
In reality, you didn’t even need to do this, he was going to observe regardless. 
You pick up your pace, grinding up and down and then swirling your hips on his as your moaning gets louder. Your other hand stabilizes yourself on his chest while you begin to melt into your high, the line blurring between where your pleasure starts, and where you end. 
Minho throbs below you, eagerly waiting for you to ride out your orgasm. 
You cum, staring directly into his eyes, rocking back and forth slower to balance out your pleasure. You sigh as you come back to your senses, your hand balling up into a fist to pull your boyfriend closer to you for an everlasting kiss. 
Minho moans into the kiss like he’s cum himself, but truthfully, it was because of the way you just used him to get yourself off. Since he couldn’t touch you, he was feeling very understimulated. He was burning for desire for you, its imminence in the way he still continuously pulses below in your lap as you finish kissing him.  
You get up from off of his lap and sit on your knees below him on the floor. 
“You’re awfully quiet now, what happened to your cockiness?” You smirk, grabbing an elastic band on the coffee table to collect your hair out of your face. 
Your boyfriend decides to stay mute, watching you do away with your hair as you begin to graze your hands up his thighs, your hands meeting at the buckle of his belt. 
You unclasp it, looking up at him to see what he’s doing to see that he’s admiring you contently. You look back at your task at hand, pulling at the belt as Minho simultaneously lifts his hips so you can remove it. 
Currently, you’re wondering why he is so quiet. Did he finally submit? Was he so stunned at your ability to dominate that he was okay with you having your way with him? Or was it because he was so turned on that he couldn’t speak, his flushed body a solid indicator. But his body always gets slightly red when you guys have sex, so that couldn’t be it. 
You don’t let these thoughts bother you anymore, you decide maybe it’s a combination of everything, becoming overconfident in the job that you were doing. You let this spur you on, pulling both his pants and underwear down at once to free his hard cock. He lifts the bottom part of his body, viewing the way you let both articles of clothing to collect at his ankles, not fully taking them off. 
You were too focused on what was in front of you, him rock hard. You grab at his length, eyeing him to notice that his breath hitches, your hands beginning an up and down motion. 
His hips follow the rise and fall of your delicate hands, his breath quickening. The scene placed in front of you was heating up your body. You’ve never seen him this pliant under your hand, so eager, so willing to follow or let you command or do whatever you wanted to him. You’re not even being touched, yet your breath follows in sync with him, steadily increasing. 
Noticing he’s still quiet, it starts to concern you. Trying to busy yourself to distract from his silence, you lock eyes with him once again, noting that he was peering at you before you even were. You softly simper, pushing your head down until you take him all in one go, now breaking eye contact to focus on sucking him. 
As you embark on bobbing your head over his throbbing length, multiple things happen at once. At the same time, you hear something snapping and a piece of clothing falling onto the floor. A split second after, you’re moaning over his length, not because it was bringing you pleasure, but because you were being pulled quickly off of his dick. Your eyes go wide once you realize what happened, it comes together when your back hits the arm of the couch with Minho on top of you. 
He broke free.
Your mouth is open in shock as his mischievous smile stares down at you. 
“Minh-” Calling his name, he managed while freeing himself, to collect the ribbon you had used on him. He was pulling your arms above your head as you were trying to get your sentence out.
Minho successfully traps you in your own game. Similar to him before, your hands were now tied with pink ribbon at the wrist, you bewildered at the whole situation. He changed the game. 
He softly pulls you down the couch a little so your arms are comfortable above your head. Then, he leans down to give you a quick soft kiss. 
“Got you.” He arrogantly declares, reaching his hand over the table in front of the couch to grab the scissors, so he could cut the endless length of the ribbon he had tied to your wrists. 
He places the scissors back onto the table.
“But I was supposed to be the dominant one tonight.” You pout. 
“And you did good babe, but you know you love it when I touch you,” He leans in to trail kisses down the corner of your neck, listening as he hears you groan, “and kiss you, “his hands start to graze your body before it gets to your pussy, cupping you between your legs, “and fucking you open with my tongue.” You let out an embarrassing loud moan, not being phased by it since Minho loved to hear you. 
His kisses, which stopped just before your covered breasts, continue their pace until he’s leaving a trail down your stomach, purposely skipping over your throbbing core to kiss the inside of your thighs. Your whole back arches off the couch, whining when you can’t push Minho’s head in the place you need him most. 
He chuckles. 
“Now you see how I felt when I couldn’t touch you hmm? It was killing me watching you grind on me when I couldn’t push your hips or when you took me all the way into your mouth and I couldn’t push your head down.” His kisses start getting closer to your pussy once more. 
He teases as if he’s about to kiss your core over the thin fabric of your underwear. Instead, he stops his mouth just before he reaches it, talking right into your heat. 
“It’s not fun is it? You better be glad I lasted as long as I did in that ribbon.” He explains, looking directly into your eyes. 
You throw a fit, your legs shaking on the sides of him in annoyance because he won’t touch you where you needed him. 
He lets you out of your misery finally as you are whining, the whining turning into a satisfied hum when he latches his touch onto the soaked cotton of your underwear. He groans when he tastes you on the material, taking his time to lap up the juices spilling out. 
“Touch me.” You cry, rolling your body towards his lips, wanting more. 
Minho ticks his brow and lets out an airy chuckle. “I am touching you babe.”
He finds you cute and decides to give in to your requests since he knew what you meant. 
He tugs at your underwear which is clinging to the sides of your hips, pulling them down your legs until they're out of the way, throwing them carelessly onto the floor somewhere. 
You ache in anticipation for him to mouth at you, watching him get back into position to give you what you desired most at this moment; his mouth fully on you. 
The moment his lips kiss softly at your clit, you begin to see stars. He proceeds to lick you straight after, your head throwing back in immense pleasure. 
“Fuck,” You groan, your eyes following your head and rolling back. 
“Tell me how you feel ___.” He chimes, watching as your body tenses below him. It turned him on to great heights to see you this fucked out, his hips rocking into the couch to relieve himself. 
“Good.” You manage to get out between shaky breaths, Minho sucking at your clit before he licks a long stripe across the span of your pussy, him humming into you in satisfaction. You feel the vibration of his groaning below you, adding to the pleasure and washing an intense feeling throughout your body. You were close, and you needed something to grip onto.
Normally, when you were about to cum from Minho eating you out, you had your hands clutching to the back of his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to your pussy. It helped you balance the unstable feeling that overcame your body whenever you were about to release. Now, since your hands were tied, you couldn’t brace yourself. You didn’t know what was about to happen with this knot in your stomach when you were about to release at any second. 
All you could do was announce it. 
“I-I’m about to cum. Minho, I can’t, I don’t know ho-” You lewdly rushed, your body beginning to shake in cosmic tension. 
Too busy with the objective of making you cum, he lifts his left arm out to successfully hold your hand, nonverbally letting you know that he has you and that you’re okay. 
The wave of your pleasure strikes down like a tide that is beginning to crash down onto the shore of a beach, strong yet beautiful. It collects into one singular emotion before it releases in one single motion, Minho lapping at your pussy as you let go. Your body spasms as your orgasm comes to its final end, a gush of remaining pleasure that wasn’t released at that one moment, now finally letting go. 
With your eyes closed, you try to collect your breathing before you hear your boyfriend louding moaning below you, grabbing your attention. You look down, eyes widening in shock. 
Minho’s face was completely wet, a few front pieces of his hair that frames his face damp as well. As you put two and two together, you drop your jaw in collective embarrassment surprise. 
You just squirted on your boyfriend’s face. 
Because of this stupid ribbon, you can’t even cover your face, having to watch him as his ears quickly become red again, the flushing slowly diffusing to his face. 
You physically can't talk right now, not when you just squirted all over his face. It could have been anywhere else, yet it had to be there the first time you squirt. You close your eyes, waiting for him to say something, anything to get rid of this terrible silence. 
Quickly, you feel him shuffle and he’s on top of you now, passionately kissing your lips. You slowly start to kiss him back and slowly open your eyes, feeling him grind his bare cock on your wet pussy. You groan before he detaches. 
He looks you dead in the eyes. 
“I literally had to stop myself from cumming after you just squirted all over my face. Fuck, that was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen in my life. You’re perfect.” He goes in to peck your lips once more before he squabbles off of you a bit to grab the scissors again, cutting away your restraints. 
Suddenly, you’re no longer embarrassed. Sharing the same soft loving smile he gives you as he cuts your ribbon off. 
He once more places the scissors safely back on the table before he brings his attention back to you, laying on top of you again. 
He searches your eyes. 
“Got one more orgasm in you? Let me make love to you.” He softly speaks, waiting for your approval. You nod, excited since you can actually grip his hair now and touch him. You’re sure he’s in pain now since he’s been hard for a while. He always makes sure you orgasm first before he does.
He starts by tugging at the left and right bows of your corset top which are keeping it on you. You arch your back, waiting for your boyfriend to unzip the corset so you’re free. He discards it onto the ground. Then he lowers himself and latches onto your left nipple, observing as you wilt in pleasure, you pressing his head down closer as he grips at your right breast with his other hand. 
He again grinds his pulsing cock into your center, humming into your tit. 
Realizing something, you softly push him off of you. He looks at you concerned. 
“My plushies!” You suddenly realized your near and dear plushies were probably getting squeezed on the couch under Minho’s legs. He quickly searches for them, pulling all three from under his weight and putting two of them on the side where your head was, while he remains holding one of them. 
“What?” You look at him bewildered like he doesn’t realize how important they are to you. Minho doesn’t understand, so trying to fix the problem, he covers the eyes of the one he’s holding, as if they aren’t supposed to see us naked. 
You laugh wholeheartedly, “You’re so weird,” You tease, “I just didn’t want them to get squished before we continued.” 
“Oh.” He states, like saving them was the most important thing in the world right now. 
Knowing he’s done with you right now because you stopped having sex with him to save your expensive plushies, you push him to sit on the couch below you while you sit on his lap. 
“Now, I’ll fuck you since my stuffed animals are unharmed.” You tease before you softly smirk.
You bring your hand to the middle of your bodies, aligning his cock to your entrance before you slowly sit directly on him, taking him all the way in.
He groans, swiftly holding onto your hips to help stabilize you as you bounce on top of you. 
You wrap your arms around his neck, now staring at him. 
“Now, admit that me being dominant does turn you on.” You playfully suggest, circling your hips on his lap as you continue your pace. You moan, leaning down to kiss his lips before you await his response. 
“Of course it turns me on, but-” He holds you harder at your hips. “I just like fucking you more.”
He lifts his hips off of the couch, and begins a ruthless upward pace into you, completely taking you off guard. You hold onto anything you can find, dumbfounded that Minho’s stamina can reach even higher heights.
You moan repeatedly, letting him pound into your pussy below you as you feel another orgasm approaching. You don’t even have to let him know you’re about to cum, he can feel it with the way you go silent, and the sudden tight grip you have around his cock that is also stringing him closer to his own release.
Minho starts to sweat, his stamina even putting a toll on himself. Thank god he and you were about to cum soon.
Your eyes begin to roll back, his pounding finally demolishing you from above him even though you were the one that had the power in this position. 
You cum without warning, legs squeezing as close as they can below you as you fall, laying your head into the corner of your boyfriend's neck, utterly spent. Minho keeps up his pace, signaling to himself that now that you’ve cum that he doesn’t have to hold back anymore. 
He slows his motion, instead replacing it with a hard lingering pounding into your pussy. He cums just like that, quick and with a loud grunt. He wraps his arms around your back, hugging you softly as he comes back down from his high. He finishes off by pecking your forehead with a soft “I love you” that he didn’t say earlier when you put the shirt on him. You wrap your arms around him in return and squeeze, letting him know you heard him.
After a few minutes of recovering, you leave the comfort of his neck, sitting up in his lap to look into his brown eyes. 
He smiles at you. You lift your hand to move the strands of hair in front of his eyes. 
Then suddenly, he’s chuckling, then full out laughing. 
Your eyebrows twist in confusion.
He speaks.
“You know…we just fucked to the Fortnite loading screen music this whole time?” Refusing to believe him, you listen closely to your surroundings, noticing some music.
Omg, it was the Fortnite loading music.
You throw your head back in a fit of giggles.
“Either way, I’ll be glad to make you squirt again if this is the kind of music that you're into, we can make a playlist.” He teasingly comments.
You playfully hit him softly before you’re covering your face in embarrassment, revisioning the whole encounter with the background music. 
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This was my first ever fanfic on this account! Let me know what you think! :)
Copyright © 2024 softlee
All Rights Reserved.
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pbueckerslover · 1 day
Note
kate smut pleasee☝️
anniversary - k.m. ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
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pairing(s): kate martin x female!reader
warnings: femme reader, kissing, smut, oral (kate!recieving), fingering (kate!recieving)
summary: it’s kate and yours one year anniversary and you decide to surprise her with a couple different things.
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you and kate have officially been dating for one year and today was your anniversary. kate had been out for the past hour running errands so you took this time as the perfect opportunity to set up a surprise for her. you bought her a couple presents, decided to make dinner for the two of you and even decorated the apartment for her. you couldn’t wait to see her reaction.
you started to get ready by taking a shower, doing your hair and makeup and putting on a cute outfit. you also decided to slip on a new bra and underwear you had bought previously underneath your outfit for later. once everything was ready to go you decided to sit on the couch and wait for her to come home.
about 30 minutes later you heard keys starting to unlock the door. you knew exactly who it was so you got up from your spot and stood close to the door anticipating her entrance.
kate opened the door and walked in to see beautiful decorations covering the place along with candles, flowers and a meal for the two of you on the table. she was shocked to say the least, she had no idea you were planning this for her. “babe…. oh my god.” she said taking it all in. she started walking closer to you and once she was next to you the first thing she did was place a soft kiss to your lips.
she pulled away to look at you. your eyes met hers and you asked, “you like it?” she smiled at your question. “baby i love it this is so cute.” she said before wrapping you in a big hug. you giggled and rested your head in the crook of her neck.
when the two of you pulled away she couldn’t help but kiss you again. “come on let’s sit down.” you said as you grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the table. you both sat down and she stared at you from across the table.
“i love you.” she said as she started to eat the food. “i love you too, kate.” you replied and opened the bottle of champagne that you had laid out on the table. you guys talked and laughed nonstop while eating the food you had prepared. once you had finished you got up to grab the gifts you had bought for her.
“happy anniversary baby!” you said as you handed her two small boxes. she opened them while smiling. the first one had a silver necklace with a small “K” on it and a heart. the other one had some clothes that you remember her talking about wanting in the past.
you sat on her lap after she finished opening the gifts. “i love these so much, thank you babe.” she said and placed a kiss to your cheek. you smiled at her knowing she was truly grateful. “i have another surprise.” you said as you stood up from your spot on her lap and started walking towards your bedroom.
she followed after you excited to see what was next. when she walked into the room you had completely stripped out of what you were previously wearing. you had on a matching bra and underwear set that was her favorite color and you were now laying on your guys’ bed.
her mouth had practically dropped to the ground as she looked at you. she walked over to you and joined you on the bed. “you look so fucking pretty.” she said as she kissed you again and started to place kisses down your neck.
you then moved so you were on top of her and kissed her again. you asked her to take off her shirt and she did just that. you kissed all over her neck and chest and then started to leave kisses on her stomach. she let out soft moans as you started getting closer to her pussy.
she quickly removed her pants and underwear needy for more. you smirked up at her as you started to move down her body. you placed soft kisses to her thighs and she moaned more. “don’t tease me baby… need you so bad.” she said.
you placed one more kiss to her lips before moving back down to your original spot. all of a sudden your tongue was on her clit and she was moaning louder than before. you added a finger in her hole to increase her pleasure. she placed a hand to your head guiding you as you started to move faster.
“feels so fucking good.” she said and that was your queue to add another finger. she tilted her head back at the sudden contact. you moved even faster noticing that she was getting close. “such a good girl.” she said and you could practically feeling yourself getting wet just from her words.
“gonna cum baby!” she said as she could feel the all too familiar feeling growing. you took this as a sign to continue what you were doing, but faster.
moments later she was releasing all over your tongue. you moved from your position and went to lay down next to her. you turned to face her and she grabbed your face and kissed you once more. you leaned into the kiss and wrapped your legs around her waist.
she pulled away and smiled at you. “thank you for everything baby i really loved it.” she said. “of course kate. i just really wanted to do something special for you because you deserve it.” you replied while smiling back at her.
this made her smile grow larger. “i love you.” she told you once more. “i love you more, babe.” you said and placed a kiss to her forehead. she wrapped her arms around you and you rested your head on her chest.
you pulled the blankets up so they were covering both of you. you both moved around a little bit until you were comfortable before drifting off to sleep.
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⇾ be sure to checkout my masterlist if you enjoyed!
⇾ ty for reading all the way through! first kate fic i hope you guys like it :’) i’m trying to get to more of my requests for pride month so expect more fics soon!!!!
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mechaknight-98 · 1 day
Text
Ranger Reject (NSFW) FT: Jiheon and Chaehyun
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Author’s note: A request/ spiritual successor to A train to Busan of sorts from @leafostuff however because I’m a dork and have had several things on the brain this is also slightly for @somicutie08 and @blanceverlast
If I were to compile a bucket list one of the things I probably would have never had would be "Have a threesome with two of your favorite K-pop stars after seeing a Super Sentai Live show". yet here I was balls deep in Two of my favorite starlets, but I was getting ahead of myself.
I was heading to Japan to catch a recent anniversary live show for a “Super Sentai” series that had aired some ten years ago. After a long flight, the bustling streets of Tokyo energized me as I made my way to the hotel. The lobby was sleek and modern, filled with tourists and fans like me, all buzzing with excitement for the various events happening around the city.
As I approached the front desk to check in, I heard a familiar voice.
“Dino?”
I squinted, my mind racing. There was no way she could be here. But as I turned around, my heart skipped a beat. Walking towards me was Chaehyun, a friend I hadn’t seen in years, accompanied by Jiheon Baek, a young lady I had only seen through the confines of a screen. Both approached me with pleasant smiles as I finished checking in.
“What are you doing here?” Chaehyun asked happily, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
I hesitated at first, feeling a bit dorky, but decided to embrace it. “I’m here to see the ‘20 Years Later Dairanger’ reunion movie and the ‘10 Years Later ToQger’ team-up.”
Chaehyun raised an eyebrow and turned to Jiheon, who was looking at me with wide eyes. “That’s what we’re here to see!” Jiheon exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement.
“Oh right, I remember seeing on a V Live a while ago that you talked about Power Rangers,” I responded.
Jiheon’s eyes widened even more. “You’re a Flower?”
I nodded, and Jiheon laughed, her joy infectious. She asked which room I was in, and when I told her, she burst into giggles. “What’s so funny?” I asked, to which Chaehyun responded,
“You’re right next to our room,” she explained. I nodded and gave a thumbs-up as we all headed to our respective rooms.
After setting my stuff down, there was a knock on my door. I opened it to see Chaehyun, who lunged for me and pulled me into a heated kiss, closing the door behind her.
“I missed you so much. When you left, I kicked myself for not getting your phone number,” she said, breaking the kiss and wrapping her legs around my waist.
“Well, I missed you too,” I replied before Chaehyun yanked me into another kiss. I could feel the desperation in her voice and words, but before we could do anything, there was another knock on the door.
“It’s Jiheon,” Jiheon said from the other side. I looked at Chaehyun, who huffed and smiled.
“Okay, I’ll share you this one time,” she said with a pout as she got off me. I went to the door and opened it to let Jiheon in. Her smile was so cute and endearing that I couldn’t help being enamored with her.
Jiheon sat on the bed and asked, “So, how long have you been a Power Rangers fan?”
I smiled and replied, “So, I don’t know how they translated it in Korea, but my first was ‘Lost Galaxy,’ which is ‘Gingaman’ in Japan.”
Jiheon nodded and moved closer to me. “What team is your favorite?”
“King-Ohger and Kyoryuger,” I replied without hesitation.
“Good choices. Are you into any other Toku series?” she asked curiously.
Like the dork I was, I nodded and began listing off Ryukendo, Kamen Rider, Garo, and my favorite of them all, Ultraman. I mentioned the live show I was going to, which was the 10th anniversary of Ultraman X.
“Wow, you’re loading up on all these live shows,” Chaehyun said, surprised.
I nodded enthusiastically. “Toku is my favorite genre in all of media. I have never seen a product from it that I’ve truly hated. That’s something I don’t take lightly.”
Both girls looked at me with wildly different expressions. Chaehyun’s was a mix of amusement and affection as if she was thinking, “He’s such a dork, but I love it,” while Jiheon’s was more of wide-eyed wonder, “Oh, I’ve got a new best friend.”
As we settled into the room, the conversation flowed naturally. Chaehyun and Jiheon shared stories about their travels and experiences as idols, while I talked about my job as a cartographer. The atmosphere was warm and comfortable, and it felt like no time had passed since Chaehyun and I last saw each other. Both girls were lovely conversationalists despite not having much to bridge the conversation between a mutual interest. Jiheon was constantly testing me on my Toku knowledge while Chaehyun was treating this like a full reunion. I could tell Chaehyun was just waiting to pounce on me the moment Jiheon tired herself out but sadly it was me who tired out first. The multi-hour flight along with light amounts of food had left me exhausted.
“Ahhh I’m beat. Sorry, you two I’d love to chat some more but I am tired. Let’s meet up tomorrow.” I yawn. The two girls smile and nod before going back to their rooms. After showering I got situated for bed and noticed a text from two new numbers.
The first read, “It was super nice to meet you today. I loved talking about Toku with you. I hope we can hang out again tomorrow -Jiheon,” I felt my heart skip a beat reading her text. I replied with a thumbs-up emoji which made her send me two thumbs-ups with a picture of her. I smiled as I made it her contact ID picture.
The other message was a few photos of Chaehyun in her lingerie. Capstone by a video of her touching herself and massaging her breasts. She moaned my name and I felt my dick grow unreasonably hard. I groaned as I fell into a conflicted horny slumber. I wanted both girls but I’m sure a threesome was off the table.
The next day, I woke up early, the time difference jolting me awake. My excitement for visiting a few museums kept me from going back to sleep. As I opened my phone, I noticed a series of suggestive pictures from Chaehyun.
“I’ll deal with you later,” I texted back, trying to keep my mind focused. A notification for a video popped up, but I refused to open it, knowing it would lead to impulsive decisions. After getting ready, I walked out of my hotel room.
As I stepped into the hallway, I saw Jiheon also leaving her room. Her face held an enchanting smile as our eyes met.
“Oh, Dino, are you heading out?” she asked brightly.
I nodded. “I’m planning to hit a few tourist spots: the giant Gundam, the Super Sentai Museum, Sagakawa City, and the Ishinomori Museum. Probably not in that order, but that’s the general plan.”
Jiheon’s eyes lit up, and she asked if she and Chaehyun could join me. I hesitated for a moment, knowing Chaehyun might be pushing her limits, but Jiheon’s warm smile made it impossible to refuse. “Sure, that sounds great,” I replied.
We waited for Chaehyun to get ready, and soon we were all in an Uber heading to our first stop: the Super Sentai Museum. Jiheon sat next to me during the ride, and we chatted about various topics. I found myself falling for her deeper and deeper, her infectious enthusiasm and genuine curiosity drawing me in. Meanwhile, every time I glanced at Chaehyun, she’d blow me a kiss or make some other cute and flirty gesture, keeping my heart in a constant state of flutter.
When we arrived at the Super Sentai Museum, Chaehyun grabbed my arm and had me lead her through the exhibits. She asked several insightful questions, like why certain themes were chosen for specific years or why South Korea didn’t air some of the series. These were easy for me to answer, and I enjoyed sharing my knowledge with her.
“This is so fascinating,” Jiheon said as she examined a display case filled with vintage toys. “I didn’t realize how much history there is behind these shows.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Super Sentai has been around for decades, influencing so much of pop culture.”
Chaehyun tugged on my arm, pulling me towards a section dedicated to the more recent series. “Dino, look at this! It’s from Kyoryuger, right?”
I nodded, smiling at her excitement. “Yep, one of my favorites.”
Chaehyun who had her arms wrapped around mine asked why I liked Kroryuger
“I like dinosaurs, the designs are cool and Daigo Kiryu (King) is just the coolest,” Chaehyun smiled at my explanation before nestling closer to me.
We spent the morning exploring the museum, soaking in the rich history and nostalgic memorabilia. Afterward, we headed to see the giant Gundam statue. The sheer scale of it was breathtaking, and we took numerous photos, capturing the moment.
Next, we visited Sagakawa City, a quaint area known for its traditional charm and serene atmosphere. Walking through its narrow streets, we enjoyed local delicacies and admired the picturesque scenery. Jiheon and Chaehyun’s company made the experience even more delightful, their laughter and excitement infectious.
Finally, we arrived at the Ishinomori Museum, dedicated to the works of Shotaro Ishinomori, the legendary manga artist and creator of many beloved tokusatsu series. The exhibits were a testament to his genius, and we spent hours marveling at his creations.
As the day drew to a close, we found a cozy café to relax and reflect on our adventures. Sitting there, sipping on warm drinks, I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude. This trip had turned into something far more special than I had anticipated, thanks to the company of two amazing friends.
“That was an incredible day,” Jiheon said, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “Thank you for letting us join you, Dino.”
“I wouldn’t have had it any other way,” I replied, smiling.
Chaehyun leaned in, her voice soft but teasing. “And remember, you promised to deal with me later.”
I chuckled, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. “I haven’t forgotten.”
After arriving back at the hotel Chaehyun asked if she could talk to me alone for a bit. I could see wild lust in her eyes. I knew if I held out any longer she would start making some bold moves to get what she wanted. So I acquiesced to the beautiful lady and locked the door to my room with her. At first, though she did want to talk.
“Jiheon has a crush on you,” was the first thing out of her mouth. I nodded unsure of how to respond. “I also think you have a crush on her. Is that true?” She asked. I thought about it and ultimately decided yes. I nodded to which Chaehyun smiled and said “Great wait here,” I sat there confused until Chaehyun came back with Jiheon. Chaehyun ordered Jiheon to sit next to me.
“I have listened to you to be all cute and flustered with each other for 2 days now,” she began.
“So now we are going to change the pace a little bit. Both of you strip now.” We looked at Chaehyun confused until she repeated herself more firmly. As we turned away from each other bashful Chaehyun demanded we look at each other. So we did. I marveled at Jiheon’s body her curves were illustrious. Her ass and tits are to die for.
“ Now I want you two to kiss,” Chaehyun said firmly. I look at Jiheon and panic she has this bashful look and I can’t think lewdly of her but my body responds to a gorgeous woman in front of me naked and my cock begins to harden. Jiheon’s eyes travel down to my crotch as she marvels at it.
“Oppa is this because of me,” Jiheon asks shyly. I nod when our eyes meet, Jiheon finally gains the courage to look at me and kiss me. Her lips are soft and taste amazing. As we get comfortable with each other our hands begin to roam until Chaehyun says, “Did I say you too could touch each other?” We both complied with her warning and stopped caressing each other.
“Good pets now. Get on the bed you two may touch each other,” Chaehyun said, and in our fervor, Jiheon accidentally tripped me and we fell on the the bed. We laughed before kissing again. I first grabbed her tits as we kissed eliciting a tense moan from the Korean woman. My manhood hardened under her body as it found purchase between her this right below her pussy. I needed her. I needed to desperately be inside of her.
“Oppa put it in me,” was all Jiheon said before I slid my cock in. As I slid in I noticed the difference between her and Chaehyun’s pussy almost immediately. Chaehyun’s pussy was less tight and wet than Jiheon’s pussy however she was her snatch had this viscous feeling that was always pleasant. Jiheon moaned breaking me out of my contemplative mood and I watched as she lowered herself further and further onto my cock until she bottomed out. She grew tighter as she moaned before yelling “Ah Oppa I’m cumming,” and her climax hit her like a ton of bricks. When she recovers her eyes fill with desire as she says to me.
“I’m going to ride you till you cum Oppa,” Jiheon said as her body language became more confident and alluring. I watched her roll her hips over my crotch, causing the most intense friction and pulling from her pussy as it clenched my dick.
“You’re so hot when you ride me Heonie,” I moaned and her radiant eye smile returned elated by the praise I gave her. I turned to check on Chaehyun who was in the corner furiously masturbating to us. I knew I’d have to drop a load into her creamy pussy after Jiheon got me off.
I felt a soft hand guide my vision back to Jiheon as she said, “Look at how well I take your cock Oppa focus on me.” I watched as she took me in and out of her as she continued to roll her hips over mine. The wet sounds of our sex sliding, and grinding on each other only made me harder. Then Jiheon began to bounce her tight ass on my cock and begins saying “cum for me Oppa! Please I need it. I’ll be your good girl if you cum for me right now,” as her, pleas continued my body gave in her need demands as I exploded into her tight walls. She screamed as she came again before passing out next to me. I smiled at her but with how hard I still was there was one more thing I needed to attend to. I lay next to Jiheon for a moment trying to calm down because if I stayed at the level I was currently at I was going to break Chaehyun, which I didn’t want to do.
“Oh fuck please take me again. I need your cock so bad Dino. Please tear my pussy up. I need you.” Chaehyun moaned luridly. Erasing all my doubts. I got up and walked over to her watch as she ducked herself so desperately.
“My Greedy Girl you couldn’t wait could you,” I ask as seeing her so vulnerable and vulgar awakened something dormant.
“No, I need you to breed me. My pussy needs your cum I need it,” Chaehyun moans as she continues.
“You’re my favorite little cumslut. I say before burying myself into her creamy snatch. Chaehyun moans as I bury myself in her. I thrust into her violently as she lewdly stares into my eyes. I kiss her as I go deeper and deeper inside of her. My dick ravages the confines of her velvety smooth pussy. Her slick covered my cock and encouraged me to be rougher with her pliable and plump body. I devour her tits as she yells for me to be rougher and more aggressive with her as her nails dig into my bay as she tries to get some reprieve from her rough pounding but I only go harder.
She moans and then cums finally triggering my second orgasm. I cum inside her. Chaehyun attempts to push me off but I keep thrusting inside of her. I pick her up and then move her to the bed where Jiheon has started up again. I lay Chaehyun on top of Jiheon and I pull out of Chaehyun to dive into Jiheon. My is blank only focused on my pleasures and fucking two more loads into both of them as I alternate between their pussies. Their moans drive me wild as I find a vicious pace. I unload my next load into Chaehyun who moans overstimulated and sensitive. So for the next hour, I focused on Jiheon and her body the softness was exquisite, and her cute whimpers drove me wild as I fought the urge to devour her but kept myself in check until she fully let go and told me to “ram her tight pussy till I exploded in her,” so I did exactly that triggering her second peak and my fourth. As she passed out with Chaehyun I stared at my hard cock refusing to reduce himself or go down. I needed them both but I wanted to respect their boundaries. So I passed out on the couch.
I woke up sometime later to an unfamiliar sensation. When my eyes adjusted I looked down to see Jiheon’s lips wrapped around my cock. She smiled her eyes wide with lust,
“You were wild last night. I loved it. I saw you were still hard so I had to taste you,” she said as she broke off from my cock long enough to talk to me,” I turn over to see Chaehyun slowly getting herself off.
“You two are mine now. My two favorite dorks. My two favorite ranger rejects,” she said as I came in Jiheon’s mouth.
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moonstruckme · 2 days
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hi! What about a fic if one of the Mauraders or TASM peter with a reader who's insecure about her big boobs? Like ik everyone thinks it's ideal but honestly sometimes it really sucks when shirts don't fit right or everything looks slutty or u can't go braless or alternatively a fic about their gf overhearing someone say they r an ass man but she has a small butt?
Thank you for requesting!
cw: insecurity around breast size
tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You’re looking in the mirror, and you want to feel good about yourself. Really, everything looks the way it should. Your hair looks better than it would on an average day, that new eyeshadow thing you tried actually turned out nicely, and your dress fits the way it’s supposed to. 
Just, the way it’s supposed to fit doesn’t really seem right to you at the moment. 
“Peter,” you call in the direction of the bathroom, “if I ask you about something, can you promise to be honest with me?” 
You hear water splash in the shower, signaling your boyfriend is finally rinsing out his hair. In classic Peter fashion, he seems like he’s going to be late to his own banquet. Oscorp is having a formal event to recognize the achievements of their scientists this year. Peter’s done even more than most, and he’s expected to give a speech before the food comes out which you’ll be lucky to make at this rate. You were supposed to get ready together, but he’d spent the majority of the time flirting with you while you did your makeup in your pajamas. 
“Duh, I’m always honest,” he calls back. The shower shuts off. “That’s why they call me your friendly, honest, neighborhood spider-man.” A pause. You wonder if he can sense the dry look you’re sending his way. “Fine, but I’m always honest with you. Shoot, sweetheart.” 
“Okay.” You give yourself one final, disappointed look-over in the mirror before heading towards the bathroom door. “I’m serious, don’t sugarcoat anything, but do you think—” 
The door swings open, and Peter’s right in front of you, beads of water still visible on his torso and a towel wrapped around his waist. 
“—this is too slutty?” you finish, quieter, right as he blurts, “Oh my god.” 
Peter blinks. His head does a tiny shake, as if trying to rid himself of a dizzy spell. “What?” he asks. 
Probably not your best phrasing. “I just mean, is it too booby,” you try again. You have the urge to tuck your arms around your middle self-consciously, but you worry that would only make the boob predicament worse. 
“Baby.” Peter’s still looking at you like you’re speaking another language. “What?” 
You look down at your highly visible cleavage, then back up at him. “You know what I mean,” you say softly. 
“Okay, speaking from a strictly male standpoint,” Peter says, unabashed as his eyes dip to where yours just where, “I can’t condone the idea that there is such a thing as too booby. But even if I was, like, a ninety-five year old conservative woman, I couldn’t—I would still think you look beautiful.” 
Your heart balloons. It’s not a compliment you got much before you met Peter. Hot, sexy, sure, but not beautiful. 
“God.” The word slips from your boyfriend’s mouth so softly it almost sounds like a prayer. His hands find your waist, skimming down the satiny material of your dress to rest on your hips. “You’re amazing, sweetheart. Is that the eyeshadow trick you were talking about?” 
You nod, cheeks burning. “You watched me do it.” 
“It looks different with the dress on,” he agrees. “Fuck. Not to be corny, but you’re seriously taking my breath away. I can’t breathe right now.” 
A little laugh stutters out of you, and Peter smiles. He’s looking rather breathtaking himself, fresh-faced from the shower with a piece of damp hair still clinging to his forehead. You unstick it and comb it back in with the others already fluffed up after being toweled off. He smells like his shampoo. 
“Can I kiss you,” he asks, “or will I mess up your makeup?” 
“Be careful,” you warn, smiling as you lean in. 
He is, but his hands give away his hunger, bunching in the fabric at the base of your spine to get you closer. He makes a low, needy sound in the back of his throat, and for half a second you wonder if it’s for your benefit but then you remember that he was right earlier. Peter is always honest with you. 
You laugh when you pull away, going to get a bit of tissue paper to blot away the lipstick you’ve left on him. A glance in the bathroom mirror shows that yours is, thankfully, intact. 
“Are you sure this dress will be appropriate?” you ask, less insecure now but still nervous as you wipe at Peter’s upper lip. “Regardless of how much you like it, it’s still a formal thing and I don’t want to be…indecent.” You cringe. There’s no word that sounds nice. 
Your boyfriend’s brows furrow. His hands skim up your arms, and he looks like he’s about to reply when you fold the toilet paper and stick it between his lips. “Blot,” you murmur. 
He does. “Baby.” He squeezes your upper arms, a silent request for you to look up at his eyes. You find them soft and earnest. “There’s nothing inappropriate about what you’re wearing. It is a formal thing, and you’re wearing a formal dress. You look beautiful.” That word again. Your cheeks burn. Peter kisses one of them. “No one is going to have anything to say about how you look other than how beautiful you are,” he promises. 
You let the sincerity of his words seep into you, pooling like a warm drink in your belly. The inside of your lip finds its way between your teeth. Now you’re feeling bashful for other reasons. 
It’s obvious by Peter’s grin that he can tell. He gives your arms another squeeze before moving you out of the way and going to where his clothes are laid out on the bed. 
“Actually, that’s pretty convenient for me.” He discards the towel on the floor, slipping on a pair of boxers and then starting to button up his dress shirt. “You’ve just taken a whole bunch of pressure off my speech, sweetheart. No way anyone’s gonna be looking at me while I’m up there.”
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artdcnaldson · 1 day
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Can you do arts reaction to reader just not inviting him to her next "dance" because she thought he wasnt interested so she didnt say anything please?
Maybe he saw a picture on myspace or something
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Rating: T
Warnings: None really, just angst and Art being heartbroken over losing his best friend
Summary: Spring 2008. Art wishes that he had thought to unfriend you on MySpace.
A/N: ok I’m ngl I saw specific words and ran. The words in question: “Art’s reaction” and “MySpace.” Unedited
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MySpace was in its death throes. You had to have been the last active user by that point, happily posting collections of photos like it was your own personal scrapbook.
He didn’t even use it himself, not really. He had when he was sixteen— filled it with pictures of him and Patrick and the shitty music he’d liked. Lately, he’d been logging in just to check on you.
Not often. He wasn’t a creep, or anything. He just wondered, sometimes. He knew you had a boyfriend, or something— you posted cryptically about seeing someone plenty enough. Art just wanted to know who the asshole was— if he knew him, if he deserved you.
Most people had switched to Facebook— including Art. He knew Patrick had an account, but he didn’t feel like adding him, and apparently the sentiment was shared.
That night, he pulled up your MySpace page, decorated in the same pink and green shades as your dorm room. It was a normal routine— look at the music you were listening to, read your blog posts, look at your photos. Casually, of course. This time, though, he froze.
Because he did know the asshole you were with— not hidden behind cryptic posts, no longer shrouded in mystery. Clear as day, in photos you’d taken on your digital camera.
Patrick Zweig.
For once, the brunet was in a nice suit, with a bow tie and everything. The first picture was of him, flipping off the camera with a smile in the middle of a formal dining room. The next few were of both of you sitting on an empty tennis court, drinking champagne straight from the bottle, and sharing cigarettes.
Look who needed a date to a “boring, formal rich people thing” after months of me going to his “boring tennis things” <3
That was all you’d said about the pictures. Art swallowed, opening up the photos to take a closer look. You were wearing pale yellow silk, like moonlight. You posted a close up of you in the dress, of pretty silver jewelry against your skin, then a few scenery shots— flowers, a fountain, the putting green at night.
That was the country club he played at when he was 15 and stayed with Patrick for the summer, the type of place that it was best to be seen and not heard. He knew that Patrick’s family were wealthy before, but that summer had put things in an entirely new perspective.
Patrick hated shit like that— the pomp and circumstance. The Patrick who had been his friend wouldn’t have been caught dead at a… he squinted to read the signage in the background of a photo— Benefit for Children of… whatever, he couldn’t make it out but he knew it was stupid.
It wasn’t Patrick. He knew it wasn’t Patrick even if they hadn’t spoken for a year.
Sometimes he asked himself why that was. Tashi dropped out, transferred to a school closer to her family. Being at Stanford had been too painful, which he understood, but he missed her. They kept in contact, which was good, because he had a suspicion he’d die if she wasn’t somewhere in his orbit.
It wasn’t lost on Art that he’d chosen Tashi over Patrick. He didn’t regret choosing Tashi, but he might regret it more had it not been for that night.
He couldn’t prove that it had been Patrick in your room, but he had a feeling.
It had gnawed at him as he sat on the floor outside of your door, nursing a beer long after you and whoever it was had finished and fallen asleep. He caught the tail end of it, even over the blaring music— the slamming headboard, the pretty noises you made when you got close.
He’d been sexiled enough by Patrick before to feel a twinge of familiarity in the muffled groans on the other side of the door. But it made no sense. Or it made perfect sense, and Patrick rarely did and that’s what made it so hard.
Art had chosen Tashi, Patrick chose what was Art’s. Tied everything in a nice little bow.
He’d been missing him. Of course he missed Patrick, in the same way he craved a cigarette after quitting. He knew it was bad for him, he wanted it anyway.
Or maybe Patrick wasn’t bad for him, and he was the one who cleaved him out of his life with a rough, messy slash. He loved Patrick, but he needed him as much as he needed a burst appendix that was poisoning him from the inside out.
If he thought about Patrick Zweig for too long, he’d get a sick feeling in his stomach, all hollow and achey. He itched to call him, to ask how he’d been, and how the tour had been, and if he was doing okay.
He let the phone ring once, twice before he hung up, feeling like an idiot. There was a thick, strangling feeling in his chest like he might cry, which was stupid.
It was all so stupid, how much he missed Patrick. Patrick, who had you, and a tennis career, and his rich parents who he suddenly wanted to be around. Maybe Patrick was better off, but it didn’t make him feel much better.
His phone buzzed on his bedside table, ripping him violently from his self pity. 
Patrick [1:26 AM]: was that an accident?
Art didn’t respond, even though he wanted to. It was probably for the best.
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Sorry I made this mostly about Art missing Patrick instead of Art missing R but … alas it felt true. If I think too hard about the twelve years they spent apart I feel insane.
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cobragardens · 3 days
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Just finished a S1 rewatch and am ruminating on things that stood out...
The first thing Aziraphale does as soon as International Express have collected the artefacts and he and Crowley are done with the whole Armageddoff business is take Crowley's hand on the Oxford London bus. And the very first thing thing Aziraphale does as soon as he and Crowley have established that Heaven and Hell will "leave [them] alone...for a while" is ask Crowley to go to lunch with him at the Ritz. Like he told Crowley in 1967 he hoped they would "perhaps someday" be able to do in a conversation that was about the status of their relationship.
The very moment he feels it's safe enough, Aziraphale goes faster, in a way that both S1 and S1 establish and Crowley understands as romantic. Twice in a row in the space of 24 hours.
So he's not waiting for Crowley to move them forward. Aziraphale knows what he wants with Crowley, and he immediately reaches for it the moment it's in view.
Which means not only does something happen between 1941 and 1967 (when, we suspect, "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square becomes diegetic) that causes Aziraphale to slow both of them down, but something happens to slow them down between 2019 and 2024, too.
The spouses make a decision, after holding hands and after dining at the Ritz and after hearing their song played there* that despite what they both want, the closest they should get to each other before the superpowers start back on their bullshit is to "not really" pretend they're not a team.
Both of them are aware of that decision and abide by it for 5 years: the bookshop remains (technically) Aziraphale's and the Bentley remains (technically) Crowley's and their lives remain (technically) separate. The fact that the ineffable kiss is such a huge deal for them both says to me that kissing isn't something they're doing on the regular. The way Crowley reacts when Aziraphale touches him in the pub says that even casual, friend-like touching isn't something they're doing either, at least not publicly.
And when Nina makes it clear to Crowley that the romantic nature of his relationship with Aziraphale is apparent to even a casual (human) observer, Crowley freaks right the fuck out, afraid he has revealed as much to Aziraphale's vindictive, murdery boss.
So it's obvious why they make that decision: a lot of very powerful people want to hurt them both, and the very best way to hurt a person is to hurt someone they love deeply.
But how did they come to that decision? What happened after 2019? Did they both understand their clasped hands on the bus and that meal at the Ritz (that night at Crowley's flat) to be a fleeting celebration? Was there an event that made them both afraid again? Or did they just have a conversation and come to a new arrangement? If the latter, which spouse started that conversation? Because Aziraphale's actions at the end of S1 and at the cotillion ball and Crowley's panic about their love being clockable suggest that, despite his reputation as the one who goes faster, it could just as easily have been Crowley as Aziraphale who slowed them down again.
*played on the piano by a woman's hands like the hands of God shuffling cards for Her next trick
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satorusugurugurl · 2 days
Text
I Think He Knows: (Chapter Four)
Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?
Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader
Word Count: 4,954
Warning: Language, fingering, hand-job, kissing, heavy description of genitals.
A/N: Here’s the update!! I'm sorry its so late. My wrist feels a lot better today!! 😘💚💚 thank you for your patience!!
Part One Part Two Part Three
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You were glaring at your computer screen; the words struggled to come to you. Nanami was pleased with the changes you had made to your latest chapters; he said the kiss scenes were much more realistic, all thanks to your best friend, but as much as he liked it, it still didn't change the fact that your smutty mutual masturbation scene sucked balls.
“It’s getting there.” He glanced back at the words. “You’ve moved on from using meat stick to penis—while is anatomically correct, it’s not quite rousing. Perhaps try using the words shaft, dick, maybe cock.”
“Kento!”
“I’m being serious, how many erotic novels have you read where the writer uses ‘she grasped his penis in her hand’ no ‘she grabbed his cock’.”
“Right—”
“Then there’s the climax.” Nanami sighed, flipping through the pages. “Be honest with me; have you ever seen a man have an orgasm? It’s not like a fire hose in hentai—” A judgmental look was shot in your direction, which was well deserved. “It’s more like spurts.”
“Ugh, seriously?”
“Yes, and Oaklynn’s orgasm, you just described her facial reactions and breathing. Get into the pulsing or contractions she feels. Hell, make her squirt. Ilsan is a knight; he's been to brothels so the man would know how to please a woman.”
“Squirt—?”
The way Nanami deadpanned at you before running a hand down his face told you he had figured it out. He must have finally put the deli meat sex scenes, terribly written orgasms, and your lack of knowledge of female orgasms. You slowly sank lower into the booth with a flushed face.
“You’re a virgin.”
“You’re a virgin~” You mocked, sticking up your nose as the nightmares and flashbacks of your luncheon came to an end. Nanami’s suggestion to watch porn gives it a better understanding of how orgasms work. There was no way in hell you were doing that. “I don't need to have sex to know how to write a good sex scene!”
That statement was true, and having some experience would benefit you. It had kissing scenes. And it most definitely would help you with the grinding scene in the alley you were adding in. Suguru made things comfortable for you; he wasn’t pushy or manipulative. He was so gentle and kind, making sure you felt okay. You were so grateful for him, but after you started feeling weird last night and told him to stop, maybe he didn't want to keep doing stuff with you.
If you were honest with him, maybe he'd understand. But it wasn't very comfortable. It felt so intense, and you were all tingly.
Once you finished your rewrites, you would have to sit down and talk to him. You just hoped he didn’t think you were avoiding him after what happened. The sooner you finish, the sooner you can talk to him, get things back to normal, and maybe ask him to help you more. His lessons truly were helping you.
If only we weren’t having such a hard time with the stupid scene!
“Come on, just type it, dick, just type out the letters. DICK.” Your fingers hovered over your keyboard, your eyes narrowing at the screen. “It’s just a word!”
Before your fingers could even touch the ‘D,’ a fist pounded against your door. At first, you were startled; your heart lurched into your throat as your hand rested against your chest. The fist slammed against the door once again. If someone knocked at your door at 2:30 in the morning, it wasn’t a good sign. You were about to grab your phone to call Suguru when you heard his voice at the door.
“Answer, answer god, please.”
He repeated the exact words as you shove your lap desk off to the side before jumping up for the door. You open the door just as Suguru pulls his fist back to knock again. His face was pale, and his dark bangs clung to his forehead with sweat. The dark circles under his eyes were the evidence of the nightmares that he had been having and the lack of sleep.
Regardless of his appearance, your eyes still frantically searched him up and down. You were trying to find evidence of injuries or something that told you what was wrong. You could find no traces of anything other than his insomnia. He was in a white T-shirt and baggy gray sweats and stood there silently. Look of relief washing over your face. He just stood there. A look of relief washed over his face at the sight of you.
“Suguru? What’s wrong? What happened?” He doesn’t answer your frantic questions; instead, he grabs you, pushing his way inside your apartment and kicking the door shut. “Suguru?!”
You yelp as you both fall to the floor, his arms wrapped firmly around you as he holds you flush against his chest; your best friend is shaking, his breath heavy as he clings to you as if you would vanish if he let go. Seeing him in such a state made you sick to your stomach. He didn’t deserve to be plagued with the pain of what happened years ago. You knew he blamed himself for what happened with Riko. You wish you could take the pain away from him.
While that was impossible, you could be there for him when he needed you the most. So you wrapped your arms around him and squeezed, hugging him as tight as possible. “Thought I lost you.” He whispered, his hands clinging onto your tank top.
“Suguru—” you whisper, hands gently caressing his back. “You’re not going to lose me.” You feel him relax against you, shaking softly as he pulls back an inch. “Nightmares again?” His dark strands of hair cover his eyes, but he nods. “Sugu, oh sweetie—do you wanna stay the night with me?”
Your words seem to hit him like a freight train. The panic and fear in his eyes turned into relief. His muscles relax as he exhales through his nose. You reach up and caress his cheek, letting him know you are there, and he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek into your palm.
“Yeah, can I please?”
“Of course you can.” You lock the door before grabbing Suguru’s wrist and pulling Jim into your bedroom. “You can go to sleep. I need to finish editing this page before I lay down.”
As you sit back down, placing your lap desk in front of you, Suguru takes a moment to look around your bed. There are tiny Post-it notes and looseleaf paper spread out over your comforter, along with the mini spiral notebook you had in your purse. He had teased about it initially, but he realized that you need to jot down your ideas when inspiration hits you. So your stocking was full of the little mini notebooks you loved to carry.
Seeing that blissful smile tugged at your lips, in the warmth of the flush in your cheeks, made Suguru float with happiness. That joy that was brought on by notebooks was something he would never forget. He wanted to make you happy for the rest of your life. Not just with notebooks but a life you both could build together in a romantic relationship. Suguru wanted to give you the world on a silver platter because you deserved it and much more.
“Oh fuck, sorry, Sugu.” Small hands quickly removed the notes and the papers covering the other side of your bed. “Just transcribing and everything.” You motioned for him to lie down, patting gently on the mattress.
Suguru crawled into bed with you, covering himself with the sheet, before snuggling his head against one of your pillows. The smell of your favorite shampoo and conditioner had his nerves relaxing as he watched you glare at the screen. From the way your nose was turned up, you were deep in thought. His curiosity got the better of him, and he learned in closer, his eyes roaming over the screen.
‘Oaklynn’s face scrunched up in pure pleasure as her orgasm hit her. Her breathing was heavy, and Ilsan growled in her ear, pumping his fingers in and out of her vagina.’
Vagina?
‘That’s it~ such pretty sounds—nngh!’ Ilsan’s voice cracked as Oaklynn’s soft hand squeezed his penis, twisting her wrist as she stroked. ‘O-Oh gods! Oak~ Oaaak!’ A spray of cum coated Oaklynn’s hand, his sticky seed spraying all over her, pooling onto the mattress below them.
“PFFT!” Suguru tried hard not to laugh, his hand flying up to muffle the chuckle. But god, it was too funny!
Upon hearing the laughter from your best friend, your eyes snapped down. There he was, tears in his eyes, tanned skin flushing a rosy color as his eyes remained glued on your screen. With a tiny gasp, you slammed your screen shut before hiding your face in your hands. Your jerky, panicked motions seemed to set Suguru off more as he threw his head back, barking out in laughter.
“Oh my god! Stop!”
“W-Why was he cumming like a faucet?!” Suguru rolled onto his back, wiping at the tears.
“Stop it!”
“And using the words vagina and penis? I preferred it when you called it Meat Stick and Fairy Cave!”
You grumbled before moving your hands to push him. “Could you please stop talking!? Please, I know it’s bad!” Those words had Suguru jerking his head up, finding you flushed cheeks and glimmering eyes.
“It’s not bad—”
“Yes, it is! This screams, ‘A virgin wrote this! She’s never gotten any action,’ Which is true! How can I describe an orgasm when I’ve never even had one?!”
The truthful outburst left you panting as Suguru’s laughter abruptly stopped. His dark eyes were transfixed on your face before you got up, putting away your notes and laptop, and as you silently moved around the room, you could feel Suguru’s eyes on you. And they stayed locked on you until you crawled into bed with a sigh, curling onto your side.
The self-doubt was in your every move, from how your body tensed to your shallow breathing as you fought back tears. You knew Suguru didn’t laugh to be malicious, but it wasn't a confidence booster either. At times like these, you questioned if you were good enough to do this and if writing a smutty fantasy was what you were capable of.
Suguru frowned as he watched your body tremble, soft whimpers sounding in your chest. God, he felt like an asshole. With hesitant movements, Suguru inched himself closer to you. His hand gently inches itself around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Seeing that you didn't fight him or verbally tell him no, Suguru wrapped his arm underneath you, spooning you.
“I’m sorry.” His breath was hot against your cheek. “I shouldn't have been snooping, especially when you were in rewrites.”
“I-It’s okay. I’m struggling with it; I want to be the best I can, ya’ know?”
“Mhmm, I know princess.” The warmth of his body had you relaxing. “Can I ask you a question?”
You turned your head and pressed your cheek against his. “Yeah, of course you can.”
“You’ve never had an orgasm?” His voice was so smooth and sultry, making you shiver. “Like ever?”
It was true; you struggled to reach the mythical ‘Big O’ since you started masturbating. You felt like you would get close, it was within grasp, but you would fall short. There was a time you thought maybe you did, but the fact you had to question yourself was the only answer you needed to know that you had, in fact, not had one.
“No, I haven't; I think my fairy cave is broken.”
Suguru’s chest rumbled as he laughed loudly, giving you a tight squeeze. God, he had it so bad for you. You were so innocent and cute; you had such a good sense of humor.
“I don't think it’s broken.” His statement had you rolling so that you were facing him. “You just need to explore it some more.” His hand reaches down gently, resting it on your ass. “I could talk you through it if you want.”
Tingles ran down your spine as he squeezed the fat of your ass. It was a mixture of relief and excitement that your reaction didn't turn him off from the night before. Your hands moved, gripping his shirt gently before biting your lip. You had tried so many times before, but Suguru—he knew what to do.
“I don't want you to talk me through it—I want you to do it.” Suguru’s dark eyes went wide, his pupils the size of pinpricks. “If you want to.”
Your best friend leaned close to your ear before placing a kiss against it, and he moved further down to your neck, his tongue past his lips, kisses and little licks over your sensitive skin. The sensation had you squirming, your pulse racing in your throat, and a shuddering sigh left your mouth. Suguru sucked on your neck as his hand groped and massaged your ass. Your body felt like it was kindling with fire, a low burn in the pit of your stomach as he continued to pepper kisses over your neck.
“You want me to make you cum?”
“P-Please.”
“I’d do anything for you.” He grunts gravelly into the crook of your neck. “I’ll make sure you know what an orgasm feels like. That way, your already amazing writing is more accurate.” Teeth grazed over the skin, leading to your shoulder, as one of Suguru’s hands slipped under your shirt, trailing over your belly. “Can I touch you?”
“Y-Yea—aah—” his hand groped your breast the second he heard ‘yeah’ leave your mouth. He gently squeezed it, massaging it between his long, thick fingers. His thumb gently brushed over the nipple with every squeeze. “Mmm—” you pressed your lips together as your eyes tailed down, watching his hand move underneath your tank top.
Suguru continued to kiss and nip at your neck, trailing kisses so gently over your skin; well, his other hand pinched and pulled at your nipple, rubbing the bud between his fingers. The way your body twitched and jerked underneath his touch had his cock throbbing hard within the confines of his sweats. The breathless gasps, the way you took your bottom lip between your teeth, gently gnawing at it, you look so fucking hot; he wanted to do more to see what other reactions he could draw out from you.
Suguru’s hand left your breast, slowly trailing down past your stomach before pressing his whole palm over your clothes-clad pussy. Being touched intimately for the first time had you jerking, eyes snapping shut. Suguru groaned, rubbing his hand over your pussy, feeling the warmth of your sex. You gasped as he pulled his hand away to his index and middle finger over your clothed clit. Your body jerked forward, your arms wrapping around his neck, hands sticking into his hair as he brushed over the sensitive bundle and the nerves a second time.
“Does that feel good?” Suguru asked, his mouth pulling away from your sensitive skin.
Your mouth fell open as your eyebrows knitted together. “F-Feels r-real good.” His fingers began rubbing against your clit in slow circles, drawing out a whine from your chest. “O-Oh fuuuck S-Suguru.”
“I got you~ I got you, don't worry.” His fingers rubbed faster, memorizing how you jerked and reacted, repeating the same movements to get you to respond more.
The intensity of everything was becoming too much for you to handle. It felt like your whole body was on fire, like a pot on the stove roaring to a boil. You needed more; you weren’t sure what, but you needed more of this, of Suguru. He needed to quench your thirst, to put water on the flames burning with every nerve of your body, and you knew that his fingers would be the only thing that could help you.
“I-I want more.” Your voice was so timid, making Suguru’s hand seize up momentarily. “Please.”
“You sure?” he asked, his voice dark and husky.
With a nod, you grabbed his wrist, bringing it up to the waistband of your shorts. “Yes, I’m positive.” You gently pushed his wrist down, allowing his fingers to slip under the elastic band. You could’ve sworn Suguru choked on his breath, his eyes widening in the low light of your bedroom as they glanced down to his hand that had breached your shorts.
Suguru wrapped his arm around you, holding you steady as his hand dipped lower, brushing against your slick folds. The initial contact has your head tilting back m as he groaned, feeling your delicate skin before rubbing at your clit gently. You gripped the fabric of his shirt, digging your nails into it. Your body trembled as you buried your face into his neck, whimpering against his skin.
“S-Suguru—”
“Is this okay?” Suguru moved slowly, carefully listening closely to your breathing and noting how you shook—memorizing each twitch, saving it for him to jerk off to when you fell asleep. All you could do was nod your head as you lost yourself in the pleasure. Seeing that you were doing so well, Suguru slipped his hand back further, his thumb rubbing against your clit before slowly sliding two fingers into you.
“Nngh!” You gasped out, pressing your lips against Suguru’s neck as you mewled. “Sugu~! Sugu~!” Your walls were beginning to flutter and convulse around him as he slowly curled his fingers in.
Feeling your hot breath against his neck, how your lips gently traced unintentional kisses over his sensitive skin had his cock throbbing hard. Suguru pressed into you, rubbing his hardening cock against your thigh. He slowly began thrusting his fingers in and out of you, wet squelched flooding the room as he rubbed your clit harder.
“I want to make you cum Princess.” He snarled against your cheek.
The vulgar words had you clamping down harder on his fingers. Your body was getting hotter, from your toes to your pussy, all the way into your stomach. That coil from a few nights before began tightening, coiling deep inside you. The intensity had you tugging on Suguru's shirt.
“S-Sugu~ f-feels intense a-again—Ah oh fuck it’s l-like before.” There was a twinge of uncertainty and fear in your voice. “I-I—”
“I know it's weird, but just let go. I got you—it’s going to feel so fucking good in a second.” His fingers moved in and out of your tight, wet heat faster, drawing out more gasps from you. “Trust me.”
“I-I do feel good, b-but—” Suguru hooked his fingers up, moving them in a come hither motion, causing your legs to shake. “Fuuuck! Oooh fuck!”
“God, you sound so good,” he whispered so softly you couldn't hear him over your moans. “So good.” Suguru had dreamed about doing this to you for so long, to have you underneath him, showing you how much you meant to him. It was a dream to have you clinging to him, gasping his name.
“Sugu—Suguru—” You could feel something coming; it was intense, making your toes curl. “S-Sugu—I-I—I think—!”
“That’s it~ that’s it, let go~ you’re gonna cum.”
His fingers pressed into the sponge spot inside of you. The pressure of his fingers and his thumb rubbing your clit had you seeing stars. You screamed into his neck, shutting your eyes tight as your thighs clamped around his hand. The pure fiery pleasure had your whole body and pussy convulsing as you cried out loudly, so loud Suguru heard your neighbor hit the wall with a ‘shut up.’
Suguru couldn't care; he wanted you screaming his name. He groaned as he felt your slick on his fingers, slowing down to help you ride out your first orgasm. "Shhhh, shh—princess, don't be too loud~" You panted heavily against his neck, tears in your eyes as the last waves of pleasure washed over you.
“Oooh fuck.” You wheezed out as Suguru gently pulled his finger out of you. “Oh my god.” As you rolled onto your back, Suguru quickly slid his fingers into his mouth, sucking your cum off with a satisfied growl. You tasted sweet with a tang of citrus; it was addictive. God, what would he do to taste it firsthand?
As he pulled his fingers out of his mouth, you rolled back onto your side and stared at him. Suguru smiled cocking an eyebrow at the almost unreadable expression on your face. “Yes? Can I he—eeegh!” Your hand brushed over his hard cock, catching him off guard. “W-What are you doing?” you say up on your knees, cheeks flushed with post-orgasmic glow and determination.
“I-I've never seen a man cum! A-And seeing that you offered to help me, c-could I watch you jerk off? O-Or maybe if it’s okay, could I touch you? Y-You’re hard, right?”
Your bluntness and straightforward request left your best friend gaping at you. You wanted to touch him? God, this was like two dreams coming true. But as much as he wanted to have your hand on him, he was afraid he’d blow his load the second your fingers wrapped around him. So he's going to have to compromise for now.
“How about I jerk off, and you can wrap your hand around me?”
“Okay! Um! Let's start.”
You sat back on your heels, swallowing hard as Suguru pulled the sheets off his body. You could hear your pulse pounding in your ears as you watched your best friend sit up, resting his back against your headboard, dark hair falling over his shoulder with every movement. Why were you so nervous? It was just Suguru’s dick, just your best friend, who just made you cum your brains out. Nothing about this should make you anxious! He was helping you! This was research!
But your research had your pussy throbbing as Suguru hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his pajama pants and pulled it down. When he did, his thick erect cock bounced, landing against his stomach with a hardy thump. It was heavy and thick, and it had you pressing your thighs together. The tip was a deep, dusty, rose color, dribbling out a clear substance from the tip. His shaft was tan; thick veins ran up and down as it twitched.
“Oh—” you whispered, taking in his well-trimmed pubes, admiring his happy trail that went from the bottom of his belly button down to the base of his cock. “Oooh fuck.”
“Yeah—” Suguru groaned, tilting his head to the side as he watched you with dark, knowing eyes. He saw the way you looked at him, your gaze lingering on his cock. “this is it.”
Suddenly, it became crystal clear why he had so many romantic partners. He was thick and big. You’re sure it would hit every place inside you that would feel good. Wait a minute, not you, his previous partners! It must’ve hit all the right places inside of them. It probably felt so good. Like how his fingers felt pressing that spot inside you. His cock had the perfect curve that would hit it just right.
“You good there? Did your virgin brain malfunction?”
In a way, it did, but you wouldn’t acknowledge that it had. “W-What!? No, of course not!” your eyes started to burn with a visible flush. “No.” Suguru just laughed breathlessly.
“I'm just teasing you, come here, I’ll show you what it looks like when a guy cums.” Your eyes slowly drifted back towards him, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of him stroking his shaft. His hand moved silly up and down, smearing what you could only assume was pre-cum over himself. “Fuccck.” he grumbled, “I’m so hard, I-I'm probably not going to last long.” That was okay with you. “You can wrap your hand around mine.”
With his invitation, you placed your hand over his moving your arm up and down as he stroked his cock. He didn’t go all the way down to the base. Instead, he focused his attention on the head of his cock. Each time, he stroked his cock, his head tilted back against the headboard as his legs spread. The muscles in his upper thighs constricted with each jerk. He looked so fucking good, like some sex god.
Seeing him in such a state had you trying to match his movements as best as possible and attempting to keep up with his steady but jerky pace. Your eyes wandered to where his shirt pulled slightly up, just enough for you to see the bottom half of his abs that were clenching with each stroke that focused on the head of his cock.
While his movements utterly entranced you, Suguru’s eyes were drawn to you. The way you took your bottom lip between your teeth, how your eyes roamed over him, focusing on the muscles in his stomach, before trailing back towards his cock. Your presence was enough to have him dribbling more pre-cum out. Suguru straightened his legs out, toes curling as his hand moved faster up and down over the head of his cock. He had it down so bad for you that it was going to be enough to send him over the edge.
“Oooh fuuuck~ fuck fuck fuck~” he growled through gritted teeth. “Fuck yeah.”
Fuck, oh God, he looks so good. Watching him pleasure himself had you feeling warm and fuzzy deep inside. He was really into jerking his hand up faster, squeezing himself hard. He looks so fucked out of his mind, and you were sure if you could see your face, your expression with mirror his. There was something about watching him getting off that had your pulse racing in your pussy throbbing, your shorts were already wet enough, and you could feel more slick coating them.
Moving your hand with his wasn’t enough. Biting down on your lip, you pulled his hand away. “Hey, what ar—aah—” Suguru’s head lolled back as you wrapped your soft hand around him, jerking your hand up and down at the same pace he was going.
“O-oooh.” You were not expecting it to be as velvety smooth as it was. The feeling of his cock in your hand had awakened something in you. You leaned over him, resting your free hand on his upper thigh. Stroking your hand over his cock up and down faster and harder, squeezing it like he had done to himself.
Suguru threw his head back against the headboard, hissing through his teeth as his eyes watched your hand move up and down over him. He had the scenario so many times in his head and his wet dreams when he would stroke himself until he would cum all over his hand. The final push was to feel you touching him with such enthusiasm.
“C-Cummin! Fuck! I’m cumming Princess!” Spurts of thick white cum shot out of his tip, lashing out over his stomach and his T-shirt. It wasn’t all like a hose; it was small ropes, for it to be exact, that lashed out over him and your hand. “A-Aah!” His whole body jerked his abs, clenching as his eyes rolled back, and you continued jerking your hand, milking him for all you could.
“W-Wow, tha-that was hot.” at the sound of your voice Suguru shot his hand forward, grabbing your wrist, stopping you from continuing to move over his cock. “O-Oh, sorry—“
“N-No, you’re okay, just sensitive.” He grunted as he let you go, allowing you to pull your coated hand back.
You both sat in your bed, traces of your orgasm coating both of you as Suguru came down from his high. Silence filled the open air between you, but it wasn’t at all awkward; instead, it was thick with tension, sexual tension. A tension Suguru was familiar with while the feeling was alien to you. Part of you wanted to reach out and kiss him, but something inside you prevented you from moving forward. Because this wasn’t a relationship, this was just your best friend helping you when you were struggling. It was nothing more than that.
Seeing as you were the only one capable of functioning, you got up and headed into your bathroom, grabbing a warm wet rag to clean you both off with. “Thank you for letting me do that.” You whispered as you cleaned off your hand before gently handing him the rag. “That was very informative, and I think it will help me with the pages. I’ve been struggling with it.” Suguru stared blankly at you, taking in your words as he wiped his cum off his stomach and shirt.
“Of course, I’m glad I could help you out.”
“Uhm, so do you wanna go to bed?”
“Yeah—yeah, that sounds good.”
“Awesome!”
After snatching the rag from him and tossing it in the bathroom, you crawled back into bed with your best friend. A man you had known since your childhood who you had grown up with. The two of you had been through thick and thin together, always there for one another no matter the circumstances.
As you lay down on your side, Suguru wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against your chest. You couldn’t help but wonder if you both had crossed the line tonight. Or if you had taken a step towards a new chapter of your relationship? Those questions could wait until morning because you were only concerned about how good it felt to be wrapped in his arms, listening to his heartbeat as you both drifted to sleep.
Forever Tag List:
@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks
Tag List (TO BE ADDED AGE MUST BE IN BIO)
@lemonintrovert01 @spankmydepression @renttheannihilator @witchbybirth @missmuffinr @lialia3945 @theobsidianempress @aquasan29 @toffeebrat @aussiemeerkat @chimichangagirl @zoroisminty @spankmydepression @em-aizawa @gojosimp26
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ladycaramelswirl · 1 day
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I love you more
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Ahhh it’s finally done! This is my first ever fic so it’s a little clunky, but I hope you like it💕
Summary: BAU reader and Aaron are married. What happens when she wakes up in a different past than the one she knows?
A/N: for the sake of the story Aaron and Haley get divorced some time in early S2. Reader joins in S3 and her and Aaron start dating during beginning S4. If anyone’s curious it’s a friends to lovers where he’s already in love with her before they start dating. I might write that too if anyone’s interested. sorry if there’s any typos 🙇‍♀️ (girl dad Aaron inspired by all the Ellie Hotchner writing by @ssahotchnerr)
Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, ANGST lol, no happy ending (TBD I may write a part 2), no use of Y/N. My love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation and it’s very evident here. Don’t come for me. SFW.
(Feel free to stop reading at the point where they fall asleep if you don’t want to read angst).
———————————————
Sunlight streams into the room, waking you up. You turn to the side to see Aaron already up, smiling. 
“Good morning, Mrs. Hotchner.”
You giggle. 
“Good morning, husband.”
His smile widens and he gives you a small kiss. It had been a little joke between you both on the day after your wedding, but it had stuck, becoming a part of your routine every morning. You both love it because it reminds each of you how happy you were on your wedding day, and how much you appreciate being in each others life. It’s been a year and a half since your wedding, and almost 4 years since you started dating. You move around each other seamlessly, every step of your morning routine in sync. You both brush your teeth and then he makes coffee while you make breakfast. Jack comes down the stairs and you all eat together. After breakfast, he will wash the dishes as you make sure Jack has everything for school. Today though, as you meet Aaron’s eyes over your coffee, you know he’s thinking of your last case, a family annihilator who targeted families as they ate together. You both had trouble sleeping after coming home last night, but as he squeezes your hand, you are profoundly grateful for the simple gift of being able to drink coffee in the morning with the love of your life. 
“I love you”, you whisper, not wanting to alert Jack to why you both look a little sad.
“I love you too”, he whispers back.
“I love you the most!”, Jack shouts and you both smile. The two of them argue about how each of you loves the other more as you finish breakfast. Aaron picks up Jack and you all end up in a big giggly hug. 
“How about we all agree that all of us love each other the most?”, he asks. Jack ponders for a moment.
“Okay”, he nods. “If you love me can I have ice cream?”
You burst into laughter as Aaron frowns, trying to hide his smile.
“Nice try buddy, but no ice cream before school.”
Jack pouts as you tell him to get his bag for school, but the ice cream is forgotten as you ask him some questions about his friends that he enthusiastically answers. He continues chattering on until he’s dropped off at school.
“Bye!”, he yells before running out of the car to meet his friends.
——
You give each other a quick kiss while still in the Quantico parking lot. You’ve both agreed to keep things professional at work, including a rule about no PDA in the office. But yesterday’s case must have rattled Aaron more than you thought because he grabs your hand in the elevator and squeezes three times. I love you. You squeeze three times back, which is how the elevator opens to you holding hands smiling as you look into each others eyes. You hear a squeal and both startle, dropping your hands, but not before Penelope takes a photo. 
“I am making this your new computer background! I have a criminally small number of photos with you two. You’re so professional all the time, you wouldn’t even know that you’re together”, she pouts.
“Penelope you took like a hundred photos at our wedding”, you laugh.
“And there are rules about workplace conduct”, Aaron reminds, which causes her to blush. Derek walks past you three to whisk Penelope away.
“Leave mom and dad alone”, he whispers loudly while grinning, clearly meaning to let you both hear the office nickname for you two. You roll your eyes at him and smile at Aaron before heading to your desk, greeting the others good morning. You barely have a chance to sit down before JJ calls you all into the conference room for a briefing on a new case. You grab your go bag and head to the jet. The local police department has called you late and the unsub’s already starting to devolve, making mistakes everywhere and leading you all to finding him within a couple of hours after landing. He gets shot while getting apprehended which means there’s no interrogation either. You all pile back onto the jet, the pilot letting you know that you’ll be back at Quantico in an hour. It feels wrong to go home on time. For all that death to be part of a regular 9 to 5 work day. Catching the unsub is supposed to mean a success, but it’s tense on the jet. You’re still reeling at the attitude of the local police department. They were insistent to do what they could to keep the BAU off the case and made it clear you had only invited because they were forced to by the mayor. You wonder if they had called sooner, that maybe some of the victims would still be alive. If he wouldn’t have killed his last victim when the police had ignored your profile and approached him with force instead of sympathy as you had recommended. You’re pretty sure everyone on the plane is thinking it too. You lift your arm into the air and gently nudge Aaron’s up too. Spencer catches your eye and his arm is also already halfway up, knowing exactly what’s coming.
“Last one with their hand in the air buys the first round tonight”, you say and immediately everyone’s hands shoot up except Rossi, who looks mildly annoyed.
“I would have bought a round for everyone anyway”, he shrugs.
Emily scoffs. “Grandpa’s a sore loser”, she says under her breath which causes you all to crack up. The air immediately feels lighter and everyone starts joking again, debating the fairness of your hands up game. You grab Garcia before leaving Quantico and all head to the bar down the street. Her bubbly chatter makes everyone laugh and you can’t help but feel pleased. The job was tough mentally, and you always tried to make sure the team was doing well. Satisfied that everyone was cheerful again, you decide to leave after the first round, but Aaron pulls you to the dance floor before you can even order, which gets you grins from other members of the team. You laugh as he spins you around.
“Damn Hotch got moves”, Derek shouts.
“If my wife looked like that I’d beg her to dance with me too”, Emily smirks.
You ignore their teasing, swaying in Aaron’s arms and enjoying the scent of him mixed with his cologne and laundry detergent. It smells like home. He kisses your forehead, finding comfort in the smell of your shampoo, and the soothing feeling of your body against his. 
“Everyone’s in a better mood because of you. Thank you for doing this”, he says into your hair.
You shrug. “Everyone needed this, including me. It’s not a big deal, I like it when everyone’s happy. It makes me happy.”
He gazes at you in rapture before leaning down to take your lips with his, kissing you breathless. You’re a little dazed when you both pull apart.
“What was that for Mr. Hotchner?”, you grin. 
You think you could get drunk on the way he looks at you.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you so much”, he says softly.
You feel a little prickle of tears. “I love you too. I don’t know what I’d do without you either, so you’re stuck with me forever”, you joke, causing him to smile.
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
He leaves a kiss on your neck and you breathe out a sigh.
“Want to get out of here?”
“Trying to take advantage of me Mrs. Hotchner?”, he teases.
“Yes”, you giggle.
“Thank God”, he grins, pulling you towards the door.
“We’re going home!”, you wave at everyone who waves back, giving you both knowing smirks.
“Use protection!”, Emily yells, which earns her an eye roll from you. 
You walk over to your car and Aaron puts an arm around your waist.
“A little late for that”, he smiles.
You nudge his shoulder. “Did you only dance with me so I wouldn’t have to explain why I couldn’t drink?”
He gives you a little smile. “I danced with you because you’re beautiful. The fact that you asked me to help you keep it a secret was a fun bonus”.
The second you had seen the pregnancy stick change colour, Aaron had covered you in kisses. You were both elated. But telling people you were pregnant meant you would have to sit out from field work for a while and you loved your job. Aaron had been against it at first, worried about your safety, but you had come to an agreement that you would stop when you were ready, as long as you promised to take it easy. So you were keeping it a secret. But you both wanted to tell people.
“I think we should tell them soon”, you say. “At the rate she’s growing, people are going to figure it out anyway”
Aaron looks at you excitedly. “Yeah?”
“Yeah”.
He interlaces his fingers with yours and you drive home with you hands in each others.
When you get home you thank Jessica for watching Jack. He’s excited that you’re both home early enough to tuck him into bed, but he’s tired and his eyes are fighting to stay open.
“Good night Jack, I love you”, you whisper, kissing his forehead.
“I love you mommy”, he mumbles.
Then he hugs your stomach.
“I love you, baby”, he says.
You and Aaron melt, trying not to tear up. You were worried when you had first found out about your pregnancy, not wanting Jack to feel left out, but he had been so excited at the thought of having a sibling. After finding out that the baby could hear him, he had been chatting to her all the time. He was going to be a great big brother.
“I love you too daddy”, he says.
Aaron chuckles. “Love you buddy. Time to sleep.”
Jack nods off and you both quietly tiptoe out of his room. 
You get into bed and Aaron immediately puts him arms around you, pulling you to him. 
“How come he says I love you to you and the baby before me?”, he teases, rubbing his hand on your back.
“I guess he loves us more”, you joke. Aaron moves around so his face is near your stomach. 
“Hey sweetheart, your mom and Jack are teaming up against me. I’ll give you anything you want so promise me you’ll say Dad first instead of Mom or Jack when you come out okay?”
You smack his arm lightly.
“Stop bribing our daughter. And she’s going to say Mom first, right honey?”
Aaron smiles into your pyjamas. “It’s okay. I understand. I love your mom the most too”.
You pull him back up and rest your head on his shoulder.
“I can’t wait to meet her”, you whisper.
“If she’s anything like you, she’s going to be perfect”, he says.
“I hope she’s like you”, you tell him sincerely. You’d be lucky if your daughter was anything like her father. “I love you”.
You lie in each others arms, the last words you hear before falling asleep are a murmur of ‘I love you more’.
————————————
You wake up to the smell of pancakes. You smile, remembering you had told Aaron in the car last night that you wanted to eat some. You try to blink the fatigue out of your eyes and move towards the door. You recall a dream about him from last night that comes to you in flashes. It’s fuzzy, and you’re sleepy, which is why you don’t notice anything wrong until you step out and see the kitchen. Not your kitchen. And not Aaron in it. A smiling face startles you awake.
“Emily?”
“You woke up! I made pancakes, come have some”.
You stare at her. “When did I get here?”
She laughs. “You’ve been living here for like 2 weeks.”
What? “Seriously, how did I get here?”.
Her smile fades at the confusion on your face.
“You don’t remember?”
You shake your head and her brows immediately furrow in concern.
“You told me you were cleared for a concussion”, she mutters, sounding a little angry.
“Concussion?”
She forces you to sit down, frantically turning off the stove and grabbing you both coats. “Ok, we’re going to the hospital. I can’t believe you lied to me.” 
Lied? What the hell was going on?
“What? How would I have a concussion? Why am I in your apartment? Where’s Aaron?”, you ask, slightly panicked at this point.
Your words make her go still. She stares at you for a moment, but before you can say anything else, she grabs her car keys and starts pushing you out the door. She promises to explain later and, despite your protests, manages to get you in the car. She sets up the GPS and starts driving.
“Okay how much do you remember?”, she asks worriedly.
“I remember we went for drinks last night after the case, then we went home and went to bed. Why am I in your apartment? Why would I have a concussion?”.
She grips the steering wheel a little tighter and speeds up. You grip your seatbelt.
“Oh my God, Emily slow down”, you yelp.
She ignores you and pulls into the hospital parking lot, dragging you towards the ER. She flashes her badge at a nurse.
“Emily Prentiss, FBI.” She gestures at you. “She’s an agent. She hit her head yesterday and now she’s having memory problems. I think she has a concussion.” 
The nurse nods and asks you both to wait a moment. She gives you a form to fill out and Emily takes it. You look at her, exasperated.
“What’s going on?”
She looks tired. “We didn’t go out for drinks yesterday. You hit your head taking down an unsub. You told me you were cleared by the EMT, and you’ve been staying at my apartment since…”, she looks pained. “… for about 2 weeks because you’ve been a little… reckless lately.”
“Reckless?” If anything you’ve been more careful because you’re scared you might hurt the baby. “I’m not reckless.”
Emily stares at you in disbelief.
“You walked into a dangerous situation without backup. Look, I know things have been hard with Hotch-“
“What?” Why would things be hard with Aaron? “Aaron knows I wouldn’t do anything unnecessarily”, you tell her. 
Her eyes cloud in sympathy and you stare back, confused. Ok, well Aaron would be upset if you had stormed in without backup. But he knew you were capable and even mad, would still respect your decision. Right? You’re about to start interrogating her for answers when a voice interrupts you.
“Emily?”
You look up and all the blood drains from your face. You’re thankful you’re sitting down because you’re certain you would have fallen over. Emily squeezes your hand before standing up and greeting the owner of the voice.
“Hi, Haley, what are you doing here?”
You try not to look like you were seeing a ghost. Standing in front of you was a woman that was supposed to be dead, except she was very much alive. And also staring at you. She gives you a wave. Your brain somehow sends a signal to your arm to do the same.
“I just finished a checkup. I’m about to leave”, she says.
The two chat a little before Haley is called away by a nurse. You stare at the back of her head until she disappears. 
“You okay?”, Emily asks quietly.
You don’t even know how to answer. You glance down at the form Emily had left on her seat and blanch at the numbers on the top.
“Emily, what day is it?”
She looks at you worried.
“Wednesday.”
“The date. The full date”, you croak.
“Wednesday, 16th December 2009.”
You grip the chair. No. It was 2012. 16th December 2012.
“What day do you think it is?”, she asks softly. 
 You close your eyes and take a deep breath. It’s a prank. Some kind of prank. But you open your eyes and Emily is still staring at you. And suddenly your dream from last night comes back to you. You in Aaron’s driveway picking up some pictures from his old house to use for a surprise. Seeing Foyet walk in with Haley and Jack. Sneaking into the house and waiting for Jack to leave and shooting Foyet. Haley screaming as his blood splattered all over her. You silent as you watch the life leave his eyes. Aaron running in, hugging Jack and consoling Haley as she cried. Them leaving together. Him being on leave to spend time with them and you giving him space. Him bumping into you at a coffee shop after not speaking to you for 3 weeks. You running into the building with a deranged unsub without backup a few hours later. You feel it all like you were there. Not a dream, but memories. Each one filling you with agony and dread. You feel sick. You need to see Aaron.
“I have to go”, you tell Emily. She protests, telling you you need to get checked out, but she can tell from the haunted look in your eyes that you remember everything now. She nods, helping you to catch a taxi. You’re on autopilot as you give the driver the address to Aaron’s old apartment. The ride is a blur and you barely remember being in the elevator or knocking his door. You’re in a haze until he opens the door. The immediate guilt in his eyes and the sinking feeling in your stomach is sickeningly real.
“I need to talk to you”, you say, your voice shaking. He stares at you before opening the door wider, letting you in. You move towards the sofa but neither of you sit. Silence stretches out between the two of you. You need to say something. You need him to tell you this isn’t real. But you don’t know how to behave, how to be around this version of him that isn’t your husband. What do you say to the man who doesn’t know he was the father of a child that doesn’t even exist? He runs a hand through his hair and looks down at his feet. You continue to stare at the empty space beside his head. Before you had moved into your house, there used to be a picture hanging there of you, him and Jack. Now it’s just a blank wall. He breaks the silence first.
“They’ve offered me retirement.”
Your Aaron hadn’t told you like this. He had told you he was coming back. You suppose there’s only one reason he would tell you.
“You’re going to take it.”
It’s supposed to be a question, but you know him too well.
“I have to. For them.”
Every moment of what was supposed to be the rest of your life dies before your eyes. You’ll never have your sleepy good mornings. Never hear him call you his wife, never get married. Never hear Jack calling you mom, never sit down and eat with your family. They weren’t your family anymore, you remember. They were Haley’s. You want to scream. At the universe? At him?
He just thinks he’s breaking up with his girlfriend, you tell yourself. That the Aaron in front of you has barely even been in love with you for a year. He doesn’t know that he has any memories of your life together to miss. But he must see the devastation in your face because you see the shame etched in his. You watch his heart breaking at the thought of hurting you. As he sheds a tear, you instinctively bring your hand to his cheek, wiping it away with your thumb. He rests his forehead on your shoulder and you move your hand to the back of his head.
“I don’t know what to do”, he says, his voice breaking.
You feel your own tears fall down your face, warm. He doesn’t see them.
“You do”, you whisper back.
You know. That he loves Haley, but he doesn’t want to hurt you. That he loves you, but he wants to be a good father more. That their marriage had really only ended because of his job. You also know that you refuse to be with him if he’s in love with someone else. That you won’t be the reason Jack can’t have both his parents happily married under one roof. That Aaron deserves happiness with the love of his life, even if it’s not you. So you take a step towards him and allow yourself the comfort of being held by him one last time. You bury your face into his neck, and breathe him in. The feeling of his arms wrapped around you, and his smell, the two things that were once your greatest solace would now be the two things you would always wish you could forget. You want to stay here forever, to pretend that this was still the Aaron who loved you. But you put your hands on his chest, pushing your face away from the crook of his neck to look at him. You wonder if he remembers your life together - the future you would have had. If he knows there is a girl neither of you will ever meet. But he doesn’t look at you the way he used to. You feel, with a mournful certainty, that those memories are yours to die with. He presses his lips together, trying to blink his tears away. They fall anyway. You smile at the man who isn’t yours anymore.
“You love her”.
His whole body hurts at the certainty in your tone. Its agonising finality.
“I’m sorry”, he murmurs. You wonder what it means that you hope he doesn’t blame himself for your heart breaking. To you it just feels like pain.
“I know”. 
Your lips touch his in a farewell, the ghosts of a thousand kisses never to be dying between them. The words exchanged between two lovers from a lifetime ago feel heavy on your tongue. He would never hear you say them and you would never hear it back.
I love you.
“Goodbye, Aaron”.
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marigold-hills · 1 day
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june 4: wildfire | @wolfstarmicrofic | word count: 626
PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART • FIRST PART
Remus says: “take me to bed.”
Remus say take me to bed and Sirius remembers a trip to France when he was a child, the summer air during a drought, sharp and heavy and dense enough to blanket him, and then, a week later, watching a wildfire ravage through the forest. This is the spark, Sirius thinks.
He was safe within the Manor’s wards, but the fire was a savage, hungry thing and it ate the horizon. Sirius was a wild child then, and he is wild still, and the desire to go outside and feel the burn on his skin hasn’t changed.
“I’ve finished my dissertation,” he admits, not ready for this golden moment between them to end and coming clean about the little omission is easier than facing new thoughts.
(Remus says that’s amazing, Sirius. He says good job, congratulations.)
“And I… um… tattoo.”
“You got a tattoo?” Remus reads into the jumbled words, frowns, “why didn’t you say? You’ve been going on about it all year.”
Sirius is wearing an oversized Queen T-shirt he likes to sleep in. The hem is loose. Makes it easy to lift up above his torso. Down the middle of his breastbone, exposing more than skin: the sign of the alchemical Great Wolf and below it seven intricate moons, waxing and waning.
“You… you didn’t say that’s what you were getting.”
Remus doesn’t blink, not once. Takes in the ink like reading a book – top to bottom, careful eyes. Reaches out to touch each symbol in turn, one by one, his fingers holding the same reverence Sirius has seen in him when handling ancient texts. They’re keeping his place, marking where he is on the page. For one mad moment Sirius wants the mark to be permanent.
“Why, Sirius?” Remus asks as if Sirius knew the answer. He doesn’t say Pads or Padfoot or “you great big mangy dog” as he does usually, he says Sirius and that’s how they both know it’s important.
And Sirius wants to answer – wants to give the right answer - but he can’t because he doesn’t know. Only knows this: he was there, with the money ready, and the man with the tattoo gun asked what will it be? and out of the window, out of the corner of his eye, Sirius saw the moon and said: this. This is what I want to touch me for the rest of my life, this is what I want to carve into my skin.
And while the ink was being needled into him, it quietened the need he has to bite and keep, to hurt.
And now, Remus’ careful fingers meld it together and satisfy the part of him which wants to be soft and gentle, sweet.
“Sirius?” Remus prods when he doesn’t answer. Splays his hand so that it lays flat across the tattoo, and has Moony always had hands this large? Has the rough edge of his fingers, from years of using a quill, always felt like that?
It must have because this is Moony – their Moony, his Moony - but it couldn’t because Sirius never once has been rendered quiet by a simple touch before. There have been so many over the years, in the Shack, after Quidditch, in the Lake, at nights filled with nightmares. Always the same hands, and yet.
Sirius let’s go of the hem of his shirt and grabs onto the hand on his chest, presses it closer into his skin like he could push it through to touch his heart (it’s beating now, so fast, so, so hard). He wants more and he wants to understand, and he’ll give into both the urges. For as long as Remus will let him.
Remus, eyes wide, lets him.
NOTES:
This is part 4! There will be 30. I suggest reading in order for the full experience but they also should work as standalone.
Don’t do this in the library. If you must, I suppose 2am is a good time.
I’ve changed Sirius’ tattoo from how it was in the movies. Originally the symbol he has on the very top is for amalgamation and here I went with antimony because it signifies the great wolf and I like the idea of that. The symbols are actually very similar looking. If you remember part one, this one goes back to the dissertation he’s writing.
not sure if I should add smut to this. Thoughts?
@moon-girl88 @digital-kam @tealeavesandtrash @sweetstarryskies
(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged in next parts)
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thefirstknife · 23 hours
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I've only managed to complete 3 missions and read lore in the past 8 hours so I understand people being upset about errors, but I want to remind people about a few things:
This is not on purpose. The developers are not to blame. More likely than not they're going to be pulling unpaid overtime to monitor and fix servers. They do not want this to be happening either.
Some of this was to be expected with the amount of people trying to log in and play, so server overload is nothing new. It happens every release. It happens to other games too.
There's a slight chance this might also be a possible ddos, on top of all the people trying to log on. It reminds me of two confirmed cases of ddosing the game in the past year with the amount of errors happening. This isn't confirmed information, but it's a possibility.
Please take a break if it becomes too upsetting. Everyone is struggling to get on, but we're not in a race, this isn't a competition for who gets to finish first. We all want to play through the whole thing, but most players are struggling to play so you're not alone.
Anyway, from what little I've managed to play and all I've read, my conclusion so far is:
I am crying forever and I will never be the same.
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tiyanasfantasy · 3 days
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Marry Her Anway ❦.
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wussup yall !
i just wanna say i haven’t wrote anything in over a year, mostly due to no motivation, but I’m back! i lost my other account so I’m starting fresh! ion want you to have no high expectations, lemme get used to it again ok? sorry if this is bad 😩..!
buttt i was just listening to this song called “Rude” and i wanted to write a lil story based off of it soo here i goo.
Warnings: Language, not proofread (i think that’s all)
Ony x BlackFem!Reader
Enjoy ❦.
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you and ony have been dating for 3 years now. the two of you met during your freshmen year of high school but started dating during yalls senior year, and have been together ever since.
ony had met your family a few times before, they think ony’s a nice guy, i mean he has money, and makes sure you’re always safe and taken care of, and cares about your health, feelings and wellbeing. anyone who’s ever been around the two of you always says you compliment each other very well, your mother and the rest of your family loves ony.
well, everyone except your dad.
your dad HATES ony. why? he says he has a bad feeling about him, that he had bad intentions and he doesn’t want that “Weed selling thug” around his daughter. when you first brought ony home your father said “You’re not gonna last, i’ll give it a week before you’re crying and telling us he’s either in prison or cheated on you with some chick” long story short he’s a D1 hater
but to his surprise, 3 years later you and ony are still together, now 22 and 23 years old and still deeply in love with each other.
ony was very aware of your fathers dislike of him, that didn’t stop him from driving to his house on a saturday morning in the finest clothes he could find, and knocking loud and proud on his door. KNOCK KNOCk KNOCK
when your father looked out the peep hole and seen it was on the let out a groan and opened the door. “what?” he said with and irritation in his voice .
“g’morning sir” ony said with a big grin on his face. “i would ask to come in but-“ before he could finish he was cut off by your fathers voice “no, what do you want ? i don’t have time for this, i have things to do, where’s my daughter ?”
ony cleared his throat. “yns at her hair appointment, i wanted to ask you something tho, this is very important and i know you love your daughter a lot, so your opinion on this matters a lot.”
your dad raised his eyebrow at ony, motioning that he was listening.
“uh ion really know how to ask this but i know that your an old fashion man so uh..” ony pulls a ring from behind his back and holds it up to show your dad “can i… can i marry your daughter?”
as he was asking this question, your mother was walking by and was shocked by what she just heard and quickly ran over to the door and seen ony holding up a beautiful diamond ring
“Yes! Yes you can!” your mother said admiring the pretty ring infront of her husbands face.
meanwhile your dad stood there with a look of shock and disgust on his face. “he was asking me. and no, no you can’t. you’ll never get my blessing till the day i die, tough luck my friend, but the answer is no!”
your mom looked at your dad with a shocked look on her face “why you gotta be so rude??”
connie got tired of waiting in the car and came out to see what was taking ony so long “what’d he say?”
ony looked at connie and shook his head “man,he said no.”
connie looked over at your dad “that’s crazy man, whatchu say no for? you know how bad that must’ve hurt my man ego?”
ony looked over at your dad too “right, don’t you know i’m human and got feelings too?”
your dad rolled his eyes “i’ve been saying this for years, you’re no good for my daughter, i’m not gonna let you marry her then cheat and force her to go through more pain and a divorce”
connie mean mugged your dad “no disrespect pops, but ony been in your daughter since we was freshies, this guy got nothing but good intentions, i swear to you”
your mom nodding her head in agreement, seeing this made your dad scoff and shake his head “like i said you don’t have my blessing, if i don’t want you even dating my daughter what makes you think i’d allow you to marry her, the answer is no?”
your mother was standing there with her arms crossed shaking her head “you think i’d tell him he could if i tht out he had bad intentions?” your dad still feelings to remorse said “i don’t care, my answers no.”
“that’s fucked man, for real.” connie said.
ony just let out a dry laugh “Don’t worry bout it yall, im gonna marry her anyway” he said shrugging.
Connie laughed “that’s what i’m talking about” while your mother said “yeah, marry that girl!”
your father looked stunned as he repeated her words “marry that girl ??”
ony nodded his head saying “yeah, no matter what you say” he stopped and looked down at the ring one more time before closing the box and looking back at your after and saying “I’m gonna marry that girl, and we’ll be a family.”
ouuu girl yo daddy was soo mad, and his own wife was going against his word?? that bald headed ahh man was pissed baby, nobody cared tho, he walked back into the house mumbling under his funky ahh breath.
but that’s alll i’m writing tdy if u read this thank youuu and i hope you liked it (ts was mad corny no cap 😂😂) oh well ty for reading i love youuu!! kisses 💋💋 ! ❦.
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