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#and you’re like ??? i have done nothing wrong
sugrhigh · 1 day
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TOUCH IT - ( c.s )
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REQUESTED**
summary- you and chris have never gotten along, despite your close relationship with his two brothers. you find out that’s he’s been messing with your love life behind your back, and all hell breaks loose. you both exchange many hurtful pranks, until you take it too far and chris shows up at your place
warnings- SMUT W/ A PLOT (enemies to lovers), virgin!reader x playboy!chris, cursing, you know the drill
a/n: it’s been forever, but i have returned!! thank you for waiting and i truly hope this makes up for my absence. to the nonnie who requested this im praying it meets expectations lol. my inbox is always open for reqs, comments, sweet nothings, etc <3
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your sniffles fill the living room, a pathetic sound that continues as you wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. well, it’s actually nick’s sweatshirt, and even though you’re getting your makeup all over it, he feels so terrible that he doesn’t mind.
“i don’t understand, you guys. why would he blow me off after we already went on three really good dates?” you question, voice cracking in hurt.
nick shakes his head solemnly, rubbing your arm to try and console you. “because he’s a fucking loser. i know it sucks, but i promise you this is for the best. now you don’t have to waste any more time on that dick.”
you just sigh. he’s right, but that doesn’t make you feel any less embarrassed. being stood up is a hit to the self-esteem, especially when you get all dressed up to wait around outside the restaurant like an idiot and have your best friends pick you up an hour later.
and after years of being on the sidelines, of watching everyone around you date and fall in love, you have to admit that you really thought something was growing. you thought it was your turn.
meeting wes was like a breath of fresh air, and after a few very promising initial hangouts, you figured this might finally be it. a cute guy with similar interests who actually seemed to like you.
but you suppose you guessed wrong.
“he was so sweet though, and that’s why i’m confused. the guy i thought that i was going out with would have never done that.” you reason, more with yourself than with him.
matt huffs from the other side of you, pushing his hair back on his forehead. “don’t cut him any slack. if he was even halfway decent he would’ve been open and communicated with you.”
another truth bomb that only further ruptures your heart. you know they’re trying to help, even though nothing about this is making you feel any better.
the whole thing is a disaster, though you should have known better. your entire love life has always been a mess. but each time you meet someone new and start to fall, you’re hopeful that it’ll be different.
“i just want to know what i did.” you mutter, sniffling again to try and stop your runny nose.
before either of them can respond, a loud bang erupts out from the kitchen and infiltrates the moment. you flinch, snapping your head in the direction of the noise just to meet a pair of icy eyes.
it’s chris, because of course he has to see you like this, at your literal lowest point. he’s got a small pot in hand as he stares you down, somehow managing to look both annoyed and indifferent at the same time.
“what are you whining about this time?” he asks, turning his back to you so he can set the pot on the stove and switch on the burner.
“be nice, chris. she’s having a rough night.” nick tells his brother, who doesn’t heed the warning in the slightest.
instead he just spins around to face the three of you once more, a small (but still smug) smile lighting up his face.
“oh, you had a date with that idiot wesley didn’t you? how did it go?”
chris poses it as a question, but you see right through him. his sarcastic tone indicates that he already knows how it went, considering your mascara is streaked under your bloodshot eyes and you’re in nick’s clothes rather than your own outfit.
but still, you find yourself giving him an answer, though it’s followed up by an interrogation of your own. “he didn’t show. you happen to know anything about that?”
he shrugs, reaching to open the pantry and grab some pasta. “nope.”
“bullshit.”
it flies out of your mouth before you truly think about it, but you’re kind of happy you spoke up for once. you know he’s hiding something, and you deserve the whole truth.
“what is that supposed to mean?” he narrows his eyes, like he’s challenging you to say more.
“it means you’re lying right to my face. what did you do?” you question further, even though you’re not entirely sure you want the answer.
chris gnaws on his cheek, trying to decide how much to tell you. and then he remembers that his brothers are in the room, and that he’d never be caught dead admitting to any sort of vulnerability, so his mouth starts running without a second thought.
“oh, that? yeah, i ran into wes the other day at the gym.” he shrugs simply, like that explains it all.
you rise to your feet, legs far ahead of your brain as you charge in his direction. “what the fuck did you say, chris?”
he’s surprised by your temper considering you’re usually so mild-mannered, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to stand down. instead, he straightens to puff his chest out, crossing his arms in a defensive stance.
“i told him the truth. that you’re a prude, and that you’ll never let him hit no matter how many amazing dates you go on.”
your mouth falls open and you stop in your tracks, just a few feet from him now. there’s no softness in his eyes; he’s completely shut down, focused on upholding the facade.
never in a million years did you expect him to throw your inexperience back at you as an insult, no matter how much you both disliked each other.
you’re pretty sure you hear both matt and nick gasp lightly from the living room, completely taken aback by their brothers brazenness. you can’t blame them. you’re almost not sure how to react, or what to say. almost.
“you’re gonna regret the day you ever fucked with me, christopher sturniolo. i can promise you that.”
and you kept that promise.
“are you fucking kidding me?” you hear him roar from somewhere upstairs.
you immediately smile, munching on your breakfast (even though it’s noon) in the kitchen. nick looks over from beside you with wide eyes, and then takes notice of your satisfied expression.
“what did you do?” he asks in a hushed voice as you hear chris come bounding down the stairs.
you shrug and turn to look over your shoulder at the man of the hour. he’s shirtless, hair tussled from sleep with his sweats hanging low on his waist, and he’s waving around a pair of his boxers. it’s one of the expensive ones that you know is now completely destroyed thanks to your doing.
“really? cutting out a hole in all of my underwear?” chris snaps at you, tossing them at your feet because he doesn’t know what else to do.
it’s a dick hole, to be specific. they’re completely in tact aside from the gaping space where it’s supposed to protect his manhood.
“figured it would help save time since you wanna fuck everything that moves.” you say, taking a satisfying bite of your bacon as you study him with a smirk.
nick lets out a laugh, because he knows that chris honestly deserves it after his asshole behavior towards you a few days ago.
you’d been strong, pretending it didn’t phase you as much as it really had whenever you were hanging out with them. but it was beyond messed up, and neither of the boys could understand why their brother would go to that extent just to sabotage your relationship.
“better than being a stuck-up virgin who thinks she’s smarter than she is.” he growls in return, and there’s a mean look in his eyes.
you know he’s trying to hurt you, but he’s once again tossing your innocence around like a dig, which is what offends you the most considering it’s a deep-rooted insecurity.
and you hate that he’s still being malicious while he looks so damn heavenly standing across from you, his bare chest heaving in anger. it makes your stomach flip uncomfortably.
you don’t know if you’re sick with rage or sick with desire.
definitely rage, right?
“i’d rather be selective than completely ran through.” you hurl another diss at him, which he just scoffs at.
“you think you’re so fucking clever, don’t you? how many other times have you snuck into my room while i’m sleeping?” chris questions, taking a singular step forward.
he’s towering over you as you sit at the table, but you don’t let it intimidate you like he wants. instead, you say the one thing that you know he won’t expect.
“how many times have you thought about taking me in there yourself, huh?” you accuse him harshly.
your words hang in the air, and the tension is palpable. his lips part in shock, and you watch the blush creep up his neck to his face because he can’t count on both hands how much he’s pictured you in his bed.
you’re also stunned by his reaction, but you try not to show it. you expected him to tell you how wrong you are, how he would never touch you in a million years.
but he doesn’t.
“jesus, what did i just walk in to?” matt grumbles as he trudges past his brother into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
chris answers before you can. “nothing, she’s just being insane.”
“i’m sure whatever she did was reasonable after that douchebag comment you made the other day.” he replies easily, and your heart swells at the fact that he came to your defense.
you know it puts your two best friends in a tough situation considering you’re constantly bickering with their brother, but it’s nice to know they have your back on this.
“fine. i don’t fucking need this from all three of you anyways.” chris’s frown deepens as he turns on his heel to head back upstairs.
part of you feels a bit bad as you watch him go, but the overwhelming sensation that takes over is pride. you finally fought back, and you may have actually ended it.
well, that’s what you thought anyways, but you find that you’re once again wrong.
on your way back from the triplets house two days later, you were honked at eight separate times. you started keeping track.
the first instance scared the absolute shit out of you, because you thought you were about to get into an accident or something. your hand had flown to your chest, a loud curse leaving your mouth as your other palm gripped the wheel.
and then it happened again, and again, and many more times after that. you were pretty sure there was something written into the grime on your back window, but you couldn’t read it no matter how hard you tried.
you’re enraged by the time you park at your place, tearing out of the driver's seat to go look. you pull out your phone and tap the flashlight on, illuminating the hidden message.
honk if u think im a SLUT
you press your shaky fingers to your mouth, completely embarrassed by the fact that you’d been driving around like this and by the fact that so many people had essentially called you a whore.
what a stupid prank, considering you had almost crashed your car over it. you grab a napkin from your center console and wipe it all away, grumbling under your breath about how much you hate chris the whole time.
the. you stalk into your little ground-level apartment, slamming the front door shut behind you. by the time you’ve kicked off your shoes and made it to your bedroom you’ve worked yourself into a fit.
you whip your phone back out and find yourself pulling up his contact despite how much you don’t want to hear his cocky remarks.
but it’s ringing regardless, and he picks up on the second one. he was expecting the call, anxiously awaiting your reaction because he knew it would piss you off enough to talk to him.
“hey.” chris says simply, smiling to himself as he leans back in the rolling chair in his room.
“you’re a fucking idiot, you know that? and also a raging hypocrite while we’re at it. am i a prude or a slut, chris?” you lash out immediately, pacing around your room because you can’t seem to sit down.
“you’re a slutty prude.” he replies, and you can literally hear the smirk in his voice.
“and you’re just a little bitch. you love to act like you’re so tough, but i think you’re the weakest person i know by far. always too scared to say what you really mean.” your words are sharp yet fluid, as if they’re coming from someone besides yourself.
there’s a pause, just for a brief second, and you wonder what’s going through his head. you don’t know what’s going through your own anymore.
the line crackles and he sucks in a breath, re-arming himself to continue this brawl.
“you want me to say what i mean? i think you love riding on your high horse, pretending that you’re better than everyone else. like you’re so pure. but really you’re just needy and desperate, hoping someone will come along and fuck you right.”
your mouth is suddenly completely dry, trying to process what he even means while also coming up with a quick response.
“you think about people fucking me a lot? or do you think about you fucking me a lot?” you ask a beat later, bringing back the conversation from the other day.
he feels the blood rush to his dick, which stiffens against his sweats from this kind of talk with you. he’s only ever imagined it in his dreams.
“you wish it was me, don’t you sweetheart? taking it slow, making you weak.” he mutters, and you feel yourself throb from his words alone.
you hate how much it turns you on, thinking about chris completely having his way with you. you can feel the butterflies erupt in your stomach, pattering through your gut and up to your chest.
“you gonna come do something about it or are you just gonna keep talking shit?” you call him out.
he sucks in a breath, completely hard now from your alluring voice and the context of your words.
there’s nothing he wants more than to sprint to your house and spread you out on your bed, to show you what real pleasure is all about. but there’s so many underlying problems, one of which is the fact that his brothers are best friends with you.
there’s a lot to ruin, even though he knows he already destroyed any chance of a real relationship between the two of you the second he met you. but still, being honest means things will change, and that scares him.
so he pulls the phone away from his ear and hangs up.
for a second you don’t even realize, and then the ending tone alerts you that he’s not waiting to respond, he’s just a fucking jerk. you can’t believe he ended the call so abruptly, like it didn’t phase him at all.
your legs are shaky as you throw yourself down into bed, ignoring the chill you still feel creeping across your body from the conversation.
he won’t get the last laugh. you won’t let him.
chris thinks about you the most at night. it’s hardest to get you out of his head when he’s alone in his room, just like he is now, watching tv to try and drown out his overactive mind. he hasn’t seen you in a few days, which is unusual, and he doesn’t like to admit it but he misses you.
you’re the reason he’s scrolling through instagram in the first place, aimlessly liking girls' photos just to try and convince himself that he’s interested in other people.
but he’s not. he hasn’t been in a long time, because he knew almost immediately that you’re everything he’s ever wanted, which was only confirmed as you continued to stick around. the thought alone was terrifying.
so he pushed you, and pushed you, and pushed you, ensuring that you’d steer clear of him. it just seemed easier, though it’s proving to be quite the opposite.
he’s just about to turn to video games for saving when his phone goes off in his hand. it’s a text from a girl he met over a week ago at a party, who had come back to spend the night with him.
and she’s asking if he has chlamydia.
the question is followed by a screenshot, which chris taps on immediately as his heart beats out of his chest. it’s a different message from some kind of bot number, alleging that he recently tested positive and she should see a doctor.
the sad part is that it looks pretty official, so much so that if he received the text himself he would probably believe it blindly. his face burns in embarrassment and irritation.
then another one comes through, from a girl he used to hook up with pretty frequently last month. by the time he responds to one person, he’s greeted by more messages from others.
five girls text him in the span of five minutes, which just adds insult to injury that they’re all questioning it too. but finally, they stop coming, and he’s pretty sure it’s over.
and now that he’s no longer focused on repeatedly putting the rumor to bed, he’s pissed.
of course chris knows it was you behind all of it, because who else would it be. he just can’t believe you thought of it, that you bested him at his own game.
there’s so much pent up energy in his body that he feels like he could run a mile. but he doesn’t. instead he jams his feet into his sneakers and orders a car, on a path of complete destruction.
you're midway through an episode of broad city when you hear a pounding on your front door, which you don’t expect. it surprises you so much that you actually have to take a second to calm your racing heart down from the panic.
you know who it is too, which scares you more. you weren’t expecting him to just show up like this, especially since it’s only been a little over fifteen minutes since your latest prank.
you were thinking maybe there would be an angry confrontation next time you went over to their house, but not right now.
the knocking comes again, louder and more impatient this time. you finally bring yourself to get off the couch, heading for the front door and squaring your shoulders as you go.
you swing it open a second later, and even though you expected him, you’re still troubled by chris’s expression. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so infuriated, so intense.
his eyes are dark as he stares you down, muscles straining and on display in his black wife beater. his entire face is flushed, and even though you know he took an uber here, it looks like he could’ve sprinted the whole way.
“do you think you’re fucking funny?” he seethes, taking a step toward you.
instinctively you move backwards, like two opposite ends of a magnet. chris raises an eyebrow, and you tilt your head.
“am i laughing?” you ask sharply.
“why are you messing with my life like this, huh? all because i made a comment to some dumbass kid?” he continues to rail you with questions.
you literally can’t help but just blink at him for a moment, completely at a loss over the fact that he sees nothing wrong with what he did.
“if you really believe that it wasn’t a big deal, you’re even worse than i thought.” you respond, voice quiet but lethal.
this time his anger actually falters, and his grimace turns to a slight frown. you’ve cursed him out plenty of times, but somehow this feels way more real. and it rips through him like a knife.
“yeah, i’m the awful one. you wanna know what wes was saying about you to his friends in the gym that day? he said that he was trying to fuck you for the roster, and that he was hoping to do it after your date so he wouldn’t have to see you again.”
he reveals this information rather bluntly. it just falls out of his mouth, and there’s no way to stop it, so he keeps going, “and then i told him all that stupid shit about you to scare him away, because i thought it was easier to keep hating me than to hear the truth about him.”
your jaw goes slack, lips parting even though you have no thoughts running through your head. or, more specifically, you’re having so many thoughts crowding you that you can’t pick one.
“i—okay, let me get this straight. instead of just being honest with me, you let me wait around outside a fancy restaurant by myself for an hour like a fucking fool?” you grill him, still somehow finding a way to be pissed off.
“i didn’t want to hurt you.” chris counters, taking another step toward you so he’s almost inside the doorway.
you stand your ground this time, staring him down defiantly. “don’t give me that bullshit, you’ve been tormenting me since the day we met and you know it.”
he shakes his head, a frustrated grunt leaving his lips. “why do you insist on misunderstanding me?”
“because you don’t make any sense! first you hate my guts, and now i’m supposed to just accept that you were supposedly looking out for me the whole time?” you throw your hands up in exasperation.
“i never hated you, y/n. not even for a second. and i know it’s not my place but he didn’t deserve to be anywhere near you, especially not after what he said.”
this absolutely infuriates you, and you place both of your hands in between your two bodies to shove him back onto the little patio. he’s stunned by your temper, but he only lets it show for a moment.
“what, and you do? you ever think about all of the shit you’ve said about me, chris?” you’re louder now, because you feel like you’re being made to look like an idiot.
he just approaches again, which sends you backing up into the apartment as he follows close behind. chris kicks the door shut and reaches out, one hand slipping behind your neck while the other moves to hold onto your hip, forcing you close to him.
“i didn’t mean any of it. i liked you from the moment i met you, and i hated that, so i took it out on you to try and keep you away. but i didn’t mean it,” he emphasizes, leaning in slightly so he’s practically breathing his words against your mouth, “let me show you.”
you can smell the musky cologne on his skin, trying so hard to ignore the shiver running down your spine from his proximity alone. your heart is beating out your of your chest and you briefly wonder if he can hear it.
“i don’t…i can’t trust you, chris.” you reply, turning your head so you can avoid his gaze, but he won’t let that happen.
he forces you to look back at him, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck so he can guide your head straight. chris watches your eyes grow wide, lips parting ever so slightly as your resolve continues to fade.
“yes you can, i promise. let me show you what i really think about you, please.” he begs, tilting a bit more so that his lips ghost over yours, testing the waters.
you haven’t been properly kissed in quite some time, and the desire to give in is so strong that you can’t fight any longer. so you lean into it, throwing your arms up so you can wrap them around his neck and pull him flush against your chest.
his mouth melts against yours, tentatively at first to make sure you’re comfortable. when you start to pick up the pace, kissing him with a newfound fervor, chris begins to let his tongue wander against yours more passionately.
then his hands slide down to grip your ass tightly, kneading the supple flesh with his fingers. you gasp against his mouth, an airy and delicate sound that makes his stomach twist. he’s been dying to hear that for over a year now.
a second later you feel him bite down on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and admiring the way the skin recoils as he lets go. you didn’t realize how much you would enjoy the mixture of slight pain and pleasure.
“tell me you want this too.” chris demands, lining his mouth up with your ear so that he can speak lowly.
normally you would protest, or insult him, or roll your eyes, but things have completely changed in the last few minutes. now all you can think about is how soft his kisses are, how you want to feel them all over.
so you nod with those doe eyes locked on him as he pulls away to study you, taking in your flustered state. “i want you to show me, chris.”
the sentence is music to his ears, and he can’t believe this is actually finally happening. you break your grasp on his neck, taking a step back so you can slip your hand into his.
you lead him down the hall toward your bedroom, heart thumping against your ribcage with each step you take. you’re nervous, but you also somehow feel more comfortable with him than the few guys who came before.
and sure, you’d never fully had sex with any of them. but now you’re kind of glad you didn’t, so chris can be your first.
your room is a bit messier than you’d like considering you weren’t expecting company, especially not in this part of the house, but you don’t have time to fix it now. it’s not like he gives a single shit; the only thing he’s focused on is you.
the tiny shorts you’re wearing have started to ride up as you tug him along, which only grabs his attention more. chris gives your butt a light smack with his free hand before twirling you back into his side with the other, pressing a steady kiss to your lips.
you laugh slightly, because you can’t help it, which makes him smile against your mouth. it really does feel corny, but he doesn’t care all that much. for you, he’s willing to drop the tough guy act.
“are you sure about this?” chris asks as he pulls away, his forehead pressed against yours as he awaits a response.
you lean in to peck him swiftly again before speaking. “i’m sure, really.”
he nods once, guiding you a few steps backwards so you fall down onto your own plush bed sheets. for a moment he admires the way your hair fans out around you, the slight ‘o’ of surprise that your lips make, trying to capture a mental picture of the moment.
your fingers find the bottom of his shirt in an attempt to speed things up, wrapping the material into your fist and bringing him down on top of you. he braces himself, arms on either side of you while he nudges your legs apart so his knee is between them.
you let your hands grasp his mostly bare shoulders as his head dips down, pressing kisses to your cheek, along your jaw, the hollow area underneath your earlobe. soft little noises fall from your lips as chris finally reaches your neck, careful not to be too rough as he sucks on the sensitive skin of your throat.
he adores it and he wants to hear more, to make them louder. so his mouth trails to your collarbone, which is luckily on display since you’re in a tube top. and then he lifts his thigh forward a bit more, ensuring that his knee brushes right against your clothed heat.
your hips grind down against his muscles almost involuntarily, eliciting a real moan as your cunt throbs desperately. you rock your hips against him at a quicker pace, loving the pressure that's beginning to build in your stomach from the stimulation.
“mmm, y’sound so pretty.” chris grumbles against your body, tongue sloppily running over the now irritated areas.
it’s the first time he’s ever really praised you, and considering it’s coming from the person you least expected, it makes it that much sweeter.
he pauses, pulling his head up so that he can hover over you. his hands begin to slide underneath your top suggestively and you help him, wiggling the stretchy material over your head.
you toss it to the floor, chest fully on display as the cold air rushes over your hardened nipples. a long breath passes by his lips as he takes you in, his dick straining against his sweats now as you gaze at him bashfully.
“quit staring.” you complain, though your voice holds no conviction.
“you make it hard not to.” chris shakes his head with a smile, leaning back down so that he can brush your worries away with another brief kiss.
this time you can feel his hard-on pressed against the inside of your thigh as his mouth searches yours, sloppier yet somehow sweeter this time around. his hand dances across your hip and up your side, moving higher and higher until his fingers are grazing over one of your exposed breasts, stopping to massage it roughly.
your back arches, rutting your chest into his grasp as you groan against his lips. chris pulls away, tiny smirk morphing his features.
“aw, you like that baby?” he goads, spreading his other palm out against the previously untouched mound of flesh, squeezing your nipples between his fingers lightly.
you can feel the wetness pooling at your core as he stays poised between your legs, continuing to tweak the sensitive buds in a way that’s deliciously enjoyable. you’re writhing under his hands, and he loves that you’re completely in his control.
but chris also knows that he can take you further, satisfy you more than you could’ve ever imagined. so he bows to your body, attaching his mouth to your throat and leaving several messy kisses.
his lips shift to brush against the area right above your chest, nipping at the skin lightly as he brings one hand back to grasp one of your tits. finally, he gets far down enough to flick his tongue across one of your nipples, his fingers pinching the other gently, swapping between them after a moment.
“fuck, chris.” you whimper, mind already becoming fuzzy from the carnal desire for more.
“god i love hearing you moan my name.” he admits before sucking the sensitive bud back into his mouth, toying with it a bit more just to drive you crazy.
he stays there for a moment as you both enjoy the dragged out foreplay. it’s a moment with you that he’s waited for for what seems like an eternity, and he wants it to last as long as possible.
and as much as he would like to linger in this spot forever, chris is craving even more of you. the tent in his pants is still growing from all of your beautiful noises and expressions, but he’s only worried about making this the best experience for you.
so he carries on, trailing down the valley of your breasts, wetting the area as he continues. he presses several slow kisses against your stomach, in a straight line leading directly to the waistband of your cotton pants.
you watch as he looks up at you through his long lashes, pupils blown out in lust. “can i take these off, pretty girl?”
“please.” the roles are reversed and now you’re the one begging him.
“so needy.” chris drags the ‘y’ out slightly as he simultaneously does the same thing to your shorts, careful to tug your thin and soaked panties with them.
the air rushes over the slickness that’s already developed, and you instinctively close your legs. you’ve never had anyone actually go down there, just a guy who stuck his hand in your pants to finger you—very poorly, if you’re honest—during seven minutes in heaven well over a year ago.
so it makes you a little self-conscious having him this close. he’s quick to pry you apart again, fully lowering himself to the floor of your room so he’s face to face with your pussy.
“can’t believe no one has ever seen you like this, you little tease.” his voice is low as he starts kissing your inner thigh, working his way in, “wanna taste you so bad.”
he’s growing closer to where you need him, and you throb when you feel his lips graze the innermost part of your leg. chris blows one singular breath right across your cunt, which shocks you slightly, before pressing a soft open-mouthed kiss to your clit.
you feel your legs tremble a little bit in his palms, your hands automatically going to tangle in his hair. a long whine escapes as his tongue works across you, and you can literally feel him smile in satisfaction.
the fact that it’s his mouth making you squirm like this, that he’s the only one that’s ever gotten to eat you out, is something he’s currently taking a lot of pride in.
he lightly teases your entrance, moving back and forth from that and sucking on your pulsing clit. it makes you grip onto his roots tighter, grinding down onto his face slightly as you moan his name again like a prayer. he swears he could cum in his pants right now, without you even touching him.
“you’re so fucking sexy.” he purrs against your cunt, the vibrations sending another tiny jolt through your body.
you can feel how hot your face is, how tense your stomach has become, and you can’t bring yourself to find any words. that is, until his fingers glide across your clit, rubbing over it lightly as you throw your head back against the mattress.
“holy shi—oh!” your voice catches in your throat midway through your sentence as he suddenly slips a finger inside.
a lewd noise escapes your throat once he does so, and he begins to pump it slowly. you’re finding it nearly impossible to keep your hips planted on the mattress, so he guides your leg over his shoulder and digs his nails into your skin to keep you still.
you rock your pelvis forward, connecting with his hand harder now as you chase the sensation, listening to the wet sounds of him gliding in and out of your cunt. chris adds another one of his slender fingers inside of you, and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to contain some of the desperate noises you’re making.
his own cock is pulsing as he continues, admiring the way your tits jiggle as he picks up his pace, the way your hair is slightly matted while your mascara collects under your eyes. he knows you want more just based on the way you’re bucking to meet his fingers, but he wants to hear you say it.
“is there something you’d like, sweetheart?” he asks, pressing another open kiss to your overstimulated clit.
you look down at him, meeting those pretty blue eyes as he awaits an answer, and you feel yourself shiver in both anticipation and from the current excitement.
“more, chris. i—need you.” you finally manage to get it out, voice pinched as you speak.
“what do you need, huh? you gotta tell me, use those words.” he demands further, and even though his taunting makes you shy, you realize you’ll have to answer if you want him to continue.
“need you inside me, baby.” you plead breathlessly, and he lets out an involuntary groan at the use of the pet name.
he didn’t expect you to play into the dirty talk, and at this point his erection is begging to be set free, to have you wrapped around him. so chris slows his fingers to a stop, leaving you feeling empty as he removes them.
a pout takes over your features as he stands up, placing his fingers in his mouth so he can suck your wetness off of them. it’s ridiculously racy, and it leaves you clenching around nothing as you wait for his next move.
“wanna be buried in this pretty pussy so bad.” chris growls, reaching to yank his wife beater over his head.
his chain bounces against his collarbones as he throws it away half-hazardly, tugging his boxers and sweatpants down to his ankles a second later. your eyes widen slightly as his dick springs free, slapping against his stomach as he steps out of his clothes.
precum dribbles out of the tip, which is angry and red from desire. you’re completely in a trance, staring as he takes himself into his own hand, pumping a few times so he can spread the slick around.
he notices the way you’re studying him in amazement, one corner of his mouth turning upward. “d’you want to give it a try, princess?”
your heart leaps into your throat, and even though you’re scared, you really want to learn how to make him feel good too. so you nod silently, extending your hand toward his cock, hesitating once you’re close enough.
“spit in your palm, wrap your fingers around it and then stroke, just like i was.” he instructs, so you suck in a breath and do as you’re told.
your newly-wetted hand closes around the bottom of his shaft, and he hisses out a curse as you start working up and down, squeezing the sensitive skin timidly. your thumb runs over his slit and he lets out a low moan, fucking himself into your fist.
“a-ah shit, just like that.”
you adore the admiration, unable to contain your smile as you apply some more pressure. his head is tilted back to the ceiling, eyes screwed shut as he enjoys the brief handjob. but chris can already feel the orgasm building, so he stills your movements by placing his fingers over your own.
your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “was it bad?”
he shakes his head immediately before he settles back down on top of you, bracing himself on his forearms as he leans in for a kiss. the taste of your arousal still lingers on his lips, which you surprisingly enjoy way more than expected.
“no, if anything it was too good. i would’ve finished from that alone.” chris admits against your mouth, which makes you feel insanely content.
“can’t have that, can we? not when i need you to fill me up.” you reply in a sultry tone, and if you didn’t know any better you would think that the comment made him blush.
“jesus, you can’t say shit like that to me.” he grumbles, moving to run his tongue along your jaw as his hand wraps around your throat.
chris squeezes the sides of your windpipe lightly, rutting his hips upward so that his dick slides against your drenched folds. the warmth from your center immediately causes his breathing to become labored, and you whimper as you feel his tip nudge your swollen clit.
“are you ready?” he pants into your ear, and you mumble a few pathetic words of confirmation to spur him on.
with that, chris uses the hand that was previously on your throat to line himself up at your entrance, looking up to catch your eye again. he pauses for a moment, so you give him a nod of encouragement.
“tell me if it gets too uncomfortable.” he says, intertwining his free fingers with yours so you have something to hold on to.
then he slowly starts to push himself inside, beginning with just the tip as your eyes screw shut. the stretch is painful at first, like you’re being split wide open by the sheer size of him, so you focus on your breathing as your grip on his hand tightens.
inch by inch he fills you up, until finally his full length is being gripped by your plush walls. you wince at the agonizing pressure, your nails digging into his back as he waits for you to adjust. you’re already clenching around him involuntarily, and he lets out a long groan.
“you alright, baby?” chris questions a beat later, concern laced in his voice.
“yeah, i think so.” you reply quietly.
“keep breathing, i’ll take it slow.” he promises, trying to comfort you as best he can.
you just nod, still latched onto his shoulder while his thumb strokes the back of your hand. his other palm clutches your hip, steadying himself as he begins to move in and out. you choke on your breath, doing everything you can to ignore the overwhelming ache.
it’s a feeling unlike any other, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck to keep from crying out. slowly but surely he picks up his rhythm, rocking into you sensually as you finally begin to transition into the pleasurable part of the experience.
a moan falls from your lips, muffled slightly by his skin. it surprises the both of you, and it makes chris flush, completely aroused by the fact that he’s the first guy to ever make you feel this way.
“doing so well, taking it all for me.” he says in a whiny tone, shifting to give you a kiss as he marvels at how tight you’re squeezing him.
the pressure in your stomach from earlier comes back, building as chris begins to snap his hips a bit quicker. gasps escape your throat on loop every time he plunges back into your cunt, and he grunts from the feeling of you enveloping his dick.
“oh my god.” you whimper pathetically, positioning your hand on the back of his neck so you can pull yourself in to meet his strokes.
he loves that you’re taking more control, that you’re truly starting to enjoy yourself. he can feel himself growing closer to the edge, and it doesn’t help that you’re now clenching around him every time he bottoms out.
but he holds on, letting go of your hand so he can bring it between your bodies, brushing two fingers over your clit. you practically convulse in surprise, your pornographic moans filling the room as he rubs tiny circles against the sore bud.
“shit, chris!” you cry, and you can feel the band in your stomach getting ready to snap.
“let ‘em know, princess, tell ‘em who makes you feel this good.” he slides his fingers against you quicker, plunging so deep now that he’s tapping your cervix with every pump.
“i’m—” you don’t even have time to finish your sentence before your abs tense up, legs uncontrollably shaking now.
you lean into the wave, letting it wash over you as you find your release. chris is close behind, shuddering as his thrusts grow needy and sloppy. then you feel him twitch, his hot cum mixing with your own as it pours out from his slit. he eventually stills a few seconds later, both of your chests heaving as he slowly slides out of you for good.
he rolls to his back, slumping beside you so that both of your arms are pressed together as you each regain your breath.
you’re scared to speak first, terrified really, so when you hear chris clear his throat you’re thankful that he’s breaking the silence.
“that was…you’re so…fuck, you’re just perfect.” chris fumbles with his words, and you glance over at him with a small grin.
“i’m really glad it was you, chris. thank you.” you press a sweet kiss to his cheek, and this time you’re positive he’s blushing.
“i’m glad it was me too.” he confesses as his arm snakes around your waist, pulling your back to his chest.
it’s a comfortable feeling, being held by him, and it’s one that you want to enjoy forever.
“to think, we could’ve been doing that this whole time.” you rag on him a little, unable to remain completely serious.
he buries his chin in your neck, breath tickling your ear as he responds. “good thing we have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”
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moonstruckme · 11 hours
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hi lovely! can i request sirius taking care of sick reader?? where he's really sweet like total fluff!!
have a good day/night!!
Hey gorgeous, thanks for requesting! Hope you have a good day/night as well <3
Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 940 words
“Can I just say,” Sirius says, leaning against the bathroom wall, “that this is the grossest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s a testament to your hotness that I’m still attracted to you right now.” 
You laugh, and it makes a bit of water come out of your nose, splattering into the sink. Though the bathroom mirror is fogged up from the hot shower you’ve just sat in, you have an idea of what you look like right now, and you’re inclined to agree that it’s a miracle anyone could find you attractive like this. 
You’re wearing the same bathrobe you’ve been in all day plus a fabric headband to keep your half-damp, frizzy hair away from your face as you bend over the sink, trying to flush out your sinuses with salt water. Your face is flushed and dry, your lips chapped, and your nose turned an agitated color from tissue overuse. 
“Are you sure?” you ask Sirius, taking another tissue from the nearly empty box. “You could leave me, I wouldn’t blame you.” 
You blow your nose. It makes a gratifying, horrendous sound, and Sirius’ mouth pinches. 
“Charming,” he mutters, but moves closer to you. “No, I’m afraid I’m in for the long haul, sweetness. After I catch whatever it is you have, no one will have me anyway.” 
“A cold,” you remind him, wincing as you wipe your raw nose. 
“Sure.” You don’t turn around, but you can practically feel the uplifted eyebrow directed at your back. “You done with this part for now?” 
You hum, letting Sirius take you back to bed with a hand curled in the fuzzy material of your robe. For someone who gripes about how sick he’s going to get so often, he sure hasn’t been holding back on the physical contact this past week. He pushes you down onto your bed, settling in beside you. 
“I know it’s good for your snot or whatever,” he says, low enough you think he might be talking to himself, “but I don’t like you sitting in that hot shower when you’ve still got a fever. I’m freaked you’re gonna pass out on the bathroom floor, and we both know my reaction time isn’t quick enough to keep you from cracking your head on the tile.” 
“I’m not gonna pass out,” you sigh, though you do let your eyes slip closed, succumbing to the exhaustion that seems to find you every time you stop moving since you’ve been sick. 
“Mm,” Sirius hums discontentedly. You hear him twisting the cap off of something, and when you open your eyes he’s reaching for your face. You stay perfectly still as he cups your cheek in one hand to steady himself, using the other to smear vaseline onto your chapped nose. 
You sniffle. “I could do this myself,” you say quietly. 
“Obviously,” Sirius murmurs, “but I haven’t been much help, so let me have something to feel like I’m contributing, okay? I promise I’ll ask you to do tons more when it’s my turn to lay around.” 
“You made me soup.” 
“That was a box mix, babe. When I’m sick, I’m going to want chicken noodle made from scratch.” 
You want to point out that chicken noodle soup isn’t all that difficult to make, but you stay quiet. 
You wonder if Sirius can feel your heartbeat with his pinkie tucked under your jaw like this, if you’re giving yourself away. It’s always nerve-wracking having someone this beautiful look at you, worse when you know you’re not exactly at your most winsome yourself. But Sirius’ touch is nothing short of adoring as he soothes the cold jelly onto the burning parts of your nose. He’s looking at you with a tenderness you wouldn’t have been able to picture when you first met him and yet suits him perfectly, gray eyes gone soft and quiet like the sky after a storm. 
They flicker up to you, catching something in your own expression. “What’s wrong?” 
What’s wrong is the unbelievable fondness of his thumb as it coasts down your cheek, the way he blows lightly on your freshly moisturized skin once he’s done with the vaseline, cooling it. The gesture is half teasing and half sincere, evidence of a thoughtfulness he doesn’t often show and almost never admits to. You think that if you were to tell James the other boy would probably bug your room with cameras to try and catch it on film. 
Sirius brushes a piece of hair behind his ear. “Does something else hurt, baby?” 
“My eyes,” you whisper, pressing your fingertips to the skin underneath your eyes to show him. You can actually feel your sinuses crackling when you apply pressure. “They sort of ache.” 
He makes a terribly lovely cooing sound, stroking your cheek and bending to press a kiss to your forehead. “Be right back,” he promises you. 
You close your eyes as he goes into the bathroom. There’s not much point in keeping them open when your boyfriend’s not here to admire. You hear cabinet doors opening, the faucet running, and then your mattress dips again. 
“Keep your eyes closed,” Sirius murmurs, settling a warm rag over your eyes. 
You sigh, the relief is so instant, and you hear him chuckle quietly. 
“God, I love you,” you say. 
“That feels rather conditional,” he replies. “Would you love anyone who warmed up rags for you and made soup out of a box?” 
“I think the real question is, could I love someone who I say ‘I love you’ to and they don’t say it back?” 
“Fickle.” Soft lips press to your cheek. “Love you, sweetheart.” 
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highvern · 2 days
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Green Light
Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader
Genre: smut, hint of fluff at the end
warnings: making out, blowjob, ruined orgasm, minor breath play? (hoshi feels his dick in reader’s throat)
Length: ~3k
Note: well here we are again in 2 days later. thank you @gyuswhore for suffering with me for this. this can be read as a stand alone but is much better after reading part 1 below
series m.list: Houdini [s]
m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
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First dates are something you’re well versed in.
A guise of mindless chatter over dinner, pretending to be interested in the minutia until patience runs thin and someone not so subtly confirms their roommates aren’t home. You know it, you embrace it, and you’ve done it many times.
What you aren’t used to is being tricked into a first date after already getting to the good part.
It’d been a long week of texting that led to teasing another meet up but incompatible schedules and demanding friends kept anything from coming to fruition. 
When Soonyoung asked if you wanted to watch a movie, you assumed it was just an excuse to get you back in his bed without crudely requesting a repeat. It's a Saturday night and well past appropriate hours for anything else. When he asked for your address, you assumed he was already out and was trying to be accommodating. When he said he was waiting downstairs whenever you were ready, you thought he was planning to take you back to his place which worked out because with only ten minutes to prepare, your room resembled a disaster zone you’d rather not have a witness too.
But then he drove fifteen minutes in the opposite direction of his street, and you realize maybe all your assumptions were wrong.
At a red light, the blinker’s rhythm drives you to speak up.
You whip around from the window to face him. “Are you kidnapping me?” 
“I don’t think it counts as kidnapping if you came willingly,” Soonyoung says, turning left when the signal allows.
“That doesn’t matter if you lured me under false pretenses.”
“I asked if you wanted to watch a movie, that's what we're doing.” 
“But your apartment is the other way,” you say like he isn’t aware.
“You know, they have these buildings with huge screens and all they do is play movies there. Really fascinating stuff. Oh, and look! There’s one.”
He pulls into one of the spaces near the back and throws the car in park before exiting without another word. A movie theater. You might as well be on Mars. 
Trailing behind, you stand dumbfounded while Soonyoung pays for tickets and popcorn like this is something normal to do on a Saturday night. For most people it would be. Maybe it is for him. He seems like the date type, even if looks like he rolled out of bed seconds before picking you up. 
You’re wearing sweatpants with nothing underneath for the sake of planting in his lap and watching him fawn over your boobs again, not to sit in a theater for two hours surrounded by whatever weirdos are hanging around this late on a weekend. The thick fabric doesn’t give anything away but you might as well be naked with how exposed you feel. 
Even in the dark, he keeps up the charade; eyes forward, hands to himself except when his fingers brush yours in the popcorn bucket like some corny romcom. He pays attention to the trailers while you stare like you’re witnessing a car crash playout in real time.
When the actual movie starts, Soonyoung lifts the arm rest out of the way, pulling you as close as possible with an arm around your shoulder. He doesn’t even attempt to hide the move in some cheesy stretch, just brings you into the heat of his side like it's normal. You sweat where he presses tight through your clothes. 
You don’t even know what movie is playing except there's some evil guy trying to take over the world while some other guy runs around in spandex trying to stop him and Soonyoung seems to find it fascinating. He’s choosing superheroes over getting laid. If it didn’t bruise your ego you might find the humor in it.
The theater isn’t crowded, not for a Saturday night. Only two other couples sit spread apart in the rows below. They’d have to turn 180 degrees to see you and Soonyoung and even then the high backs on the chairs would hide anything overtly scandalous. 
So you wait until the soundtrack rises to a crescendo just in case anyone becomes alert to your plans. You’ve never sucked dick in public but the idea of Soonyoung struggling to stay quiet while stretching your throat raw is too alluring to ignore. 
And with the way he spreads his thighs, it might as well be an open invitation.
Your hands start at his knee, just the barest amount of weight so he doesn’t scream like a horror movie character. The muscles jump under your nails but not a peep. You don’t even care that you’re staring at Soonyoung head on, completely abandoning the film in favor of watching for his reaction.
A tilt of your chin puts you level with that spot on his jaw you claimed last weekend. There isn’t proof you were there but the way he whined your name from a few harsh rakes of teeth is burned in your brain. He smells great and the warmth rolling of him lulls you further in until your mouth is at his neck.
The barest graze of your lips has Soonyoung jumping but he doesn’t stop you, just curls the arm around your shoulder tighter. Taking advantage, you trail soft kisses in an attempt to make him pliant. 
“What are you doing?” he whispers.
A languid kiss to his pulse. “What does it feel like I’m doing?”
“Like you’re trying—oh.”
The hand at his crotch is snatched away before you can convince him to let you slip beneath the waistband.
“You’ll get us kicked out.”
“Only if you can’t stay quiet,” you argue.
Someone below shushes you two sharpley. You want to throw the bucket of popcorn at their head.
“We both know I won’t.” Soonyoung whispers into your hairline, pinning your hand beneath his against your thigh. “Just wait until later.”
“Seriously?” you scoff.
You’d leave but Soonyoung drove and you don’t want to wait in the cold for an Uber (your bank account doesn’t support the idea either). There is also the promise of getting what you want later that keeps your butt firmly planted in the worn upholstery until the credits roll. You even manage to find interest in the last twenty minutes, and are a little disappointed when the lights come up, only because Soonyoung has been holding your hand, and the stroke of his thumb atop your knuckles isn’t the worst feeling in the world.
When the lights come up and the screen freezes on the final frame, Soonyoung stays planted. Which means you stay planted because where would you go? Something about a post credit bonus scene he wants to see. Maybe he’s into edging.
When the employee tasked with sweeping the sticky, soda stained floors starts circling your row with palpable annoyance, you two finally get up and leave.
“Did you like the movie?” Soonyoung asks, making a face against the cold slapping against your faces as you exit the theater and head to the parking lot. 
“Yeah, it was fine.”
“Next time you can choose,” he says. “Superhero stuff isn’t my thing but I thought it was a safe pick.”
Next time.
Absolutely, under no circumstances, would there be a next time. Because if there is a next time then Soonyoung definitely thinks this was a date which isn’t something you do. Ever. Especially not with guys that may or may not have a tiger fetish. 
You open your mouth to correct whatever silly fantasies are swirling together in his head but stop short. Maybe it's his fingers knotting themselves back between yours or the optimistic smile splitting his face but it feels cruel to crush something so innocent on the asphalt like a cigarette bud under your heel. He’ll figure out your game eventually. No point in racing him towards the conclusion before he’s ready. 
At the far corner of the parking lot, away from any prying eyes or ears, he crowds you into the side of his beat up Jeep. 
“So… it’s later.” His eyes lock on your mouth, eager to indulge in what you offered so readily earlier like you haven’t changed your mind. 
You haven’t but he doesn’t have to know that. 
“Yeah, kinda tired now.” You feign a yawn to hide a smirk at the drop in his features.
“Really?” he drops but tries not to be too obvious. “I can take you home if you want.”
“Yeah, unless,” his ears perk up at the tone. “There's something I should stay awake for.”
There is. It's heavy against your thigh where he has you pinned and makes your mouth water.
Getting into the backseat has you feeling like a teenager again. Clumsy with an elbow bent at an odd angle and your legs tangled as you slip over the center console. The floor is a mess of clothes and other random shit you don’t bother taking a closer look at because Soonyoung’s lap makes a decent seat.
You’re folded in half just to prevent getting a concussion because the roof is low but it's a good excuse to bite along that spot on Soonyoung’s neck that's been tempting you all night. It tastes like satisfaction. 
The cab is silent except for the sound of kissing with too much tongue and all the noises he eagerly supplies like he wants you to make fun of him. Breathy whines and sharp whimpers as he gropes your ass. A hand aids in grinding you against his crotch while the other slips up your sweater.
“You haven’t been wearing a bra this whole time?” he cries.
“Nope,” you hum, nipping at his earlobe to feel his cock twitch against your ass. “Wanna know what else I’m not wearing?”
Something along the lines of ‘I’m gonna pass out’ comes out in a rush as he rushes to discover how wet you’ve been since he picked you up. 
“Oh, fuck.” He groans from the slip of your folds across his fingers. 
“Should have let me suck your dick inside.”
“I know.” 
“Would you have let me?”
“I would have fucked you in that theater if I knew you weren’t wearing panties, good god.” 
A shift of hips lets you pull his cock out from the confinement of his pants. You can’t really see much but the outline with how dark it is, but he’s hard as steel and leaking. Your mouth waters for a taste.
Getting to your knees on the floor proves more challenging than it should. There’s no room so you're forced to balance between kneeling and crouching with a bony knee digging into your ribs. The bathroom would have been far better for this, consequences be damned. Too late now.
“Your car is too small for this,” you say before taking a quick lick at the swollen head peeking through your fingers.
“Never — shit — had any complaints before.”
“Do you fuck a lot of girls in here?” 
He curls in half on the next squeeze, like he might cum already. A reply fizzles on his lips for a few seconds but every time he gets settled to answer you up the stakes; tapping his cock against your tongue until a fresh taste of precum rewards you, raking your nails over his thigh, jerking him off into your mouth. Soonyoung doesn’t blink in fear he’ll wake up and it’ll all turn out to be a dream.
When Soonyoung looks on the verge of spontaneous combustion, you let him speak. 
“Why?” he sighs. It sounds suspiciously like a laugh. “Are you jealous?”
The idea of him fucking other girls flashes a bolt of something in your veins. Annoyance he’s even capable of thinking of anyone else while you’ve got his dick in your hand, maybe. Jealousy isn’t something a guy you’ve hooked up with once should even be able to hint at. 
“Tell me when you’re close.” The playful tease is long gone from your voice. “And not when you’re already cumming or you’ll never see TamTam again.”
Eyes squeezed tight, he releases another harsh groan. This time to the roof because you’re already tonguing against the raised vein on the side of cock. “Fuck, okay. I can do that.”
You swallow him back down easily. Something in his tone stokes the desire to break him; make him cry from getting his dick sucked in the back of his car in an empty parking lot like a loser.  It gets you wetter knowing how eager Soonyoung would satisfy that urge if you bothered asking. 
He squirms when your nose meets the wisps of hair at his base, cock wedge deep in your throat because you like to show off and know he’ll worship the ground you walk on for it.
“Holy shit.” 
One of his hands sneaks along the back of your neck. Just the weight, probably for his own comfort more than anything else. The idea of him fucking your throat makes you clench. 
You tell him as much when you come up for air.
“You can’t just say shit like that.” Soonyoung moans with a rut through your fist. “Fuck.”
“Why not?”
The innocence in your voice is beyond deceitful. You could probably walk him straight into cumming his pants with words alone. But you wait for an answer while lapping at the tip like it’s candy, staring right up at him through wet lashes. 
“Because,” he winces, hips bucking up from another dig of your thumb. “Your mouth—hmmm.”
You give your thighs a break by rushing up into his space for a kiss. He isn’t shy from taste his own spend in your mouth, hands hot up the front of your shirt once again now that the angle allows. Cruel for the sole purpose of seeing him crumble, you tug off your top and rub his cock against your nipples until he paws at the seat for a crumb of comfort.
“Fuck, oh my god. Where did you—”
He only trails off when you bring his hand to your throat, waiting for him to take firmer hold. You see the light leave his eyes. Mind blank because the offer is too sweet to comprehend. 
You suck him back into your mouth, slowly working down until the curve of his hand circles the bulge in your throat. The odd angle doesn’t lend any comfort but you blink away the dampness at your eyes because Soonyoung is rambling again and its music to your ears.
“Oh! —Oh, shit. That's, wow.” he pants with a gentle squeeze. You aren’t a fan of being choked under regular circumstances but something about how appreciative he is encourages you to treat him with uncharacteristic indulgence. 
“Okay okay, shit, I’m close.”
But not after what he’s put you through tonight.
His hips curl up in a failed attempt as you pull away, desperate to keep the heat of your mouth for a few more seconds to no avail. The only relief you grace him with is a tight squeeze at the head just in case he was closer than he let on. 
You sit up and wipe away the mess of drool and precum from your chin, reveling in the open mouth shock Soonyoung appraises you with. “You can take me home now.”
“But…” he makes a pointed gesture to his cock, soaked and painfully hard in his lap. Maybe you’d feel bad for him, but that's only if he didn’t deserve what you’re doing.
“Call one of those other girls that doesn’t complain to take care of it.”
The drive back to your apartment feels infinitely long in the thick silence. Soonyoung’s eyes are all over your body, probably trying to gauge just how pissed you are. If you give him an inch he’ll take a mile. So you stay quiet and find entertainment by picking at the nonexistent dirt under your nails. 
“Well…this was fun?” Soonyoung supplies as he pulls up to the curb in front of your door.
You don’t even respond. A click of the seatbelt and latch of the door announcing your exit as you beeline for the stairs.
You want to stick to your guns and let him suffer for the comment earlier with blue balls. But you also want to drag him into your room and punish him by proving you’re the best he’ll ever have. You only manage to make it two steps from the car before the latter part wins. 
Spinning around, you throw the door open with enough force to startle Soonyoung. “Are you coming?” 
“Really?” 
“Unless you wanted to go hom—” you turn away. 
“Nope, let's go.” He doesn’t seem to believe the offer. But disbelief doesn’t keep him from jumping up at the offer, cock still straining against his sweatpants and the seatbelt is off with the next blink.
He rounds the hood swiftly, corralling you up the few steps that lead to the front door in haste to finish what started in the back seat. You trip in your own eagerness, lips welcoming his with a lewd lick at the seam that would make your elderly neighbor keel over.
“Soonyoung,” you hum. 
“Hmmm,” he growls into the kiss, pressing you flat against the front door. “Love when you say my name like that.”
“Good to know,” you laugh. “But you left your car on.”
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Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie
@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire
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@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos
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Anyone but me
Insecure!Logan x Fem!Reader
warnings: Cursing, Insecure Logan
A/N: Here’s something short, I wasn’t gonna post since today makes 10 years since my grandpa passed but I didn’t wanna make today abt me. Enjoy.
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Another race. Miami had been another race this season that has been shit for Logan. Why was something always fucking it up for him?
First they gave him shitty cars, then whenever they did give Logan a somewhat good car, he wasn’t driving it the way he should, then they gave away his car to Alex after he crashed his. Now he had to retire the car because KMag decided to crash into him?
It’s almost lil the universe is against Logan and his time in Formula 1, which might I add is utter bullshit.
Logan hasn’t been the best driver and I knew that, but I didn’t fall in love with him because he’s a formula 1 driver, no, I fell in love with him because he’s always been there for me even when he was going through his own problems and has never once complained about it (him being a famous driver was just a perk).
Logan and I have been together for just over 2 years which means I’ve seen the best and worst of his career, but right now after he got hit at his home race was heart wrenching.
I stood by the tv screens that showed his camera footage live from his car and my hands shot up to my face when I saw the impact of the crash. The crash wasn’t what made my heart shatter for him though, no, instead it was the live radio feed from him to pit that I was currently listening to.
His groans of pain and the tremble in his voice asking if he did anything wrong was what hurt. He was so worried and scared that he fucked up something whilst driving that he didn’t pay attention to whether or not he was hurt.
They replayed that crash maybe a dozen times and each time felt like it stung worse than the previous one before it. I watched as they got the track clear from any debris and brought Logan and the car back to the Williams garage. The look of red eyes and tear stained cheeks was the sight I was greeted with.
I would’ve done anything to take his pain away in that moment. Hell, I would do anything to make sure he never felt pain again. But unfortunately, I can’t. So I had to suffice for the next best thing, comforting him.
I walked over to him and the second he turned and saw me walking over with a somber look on my face he rushed into my arms, pulling me into a tight embrace before absolutely sobbing.
The team around us walked off allowing us a moment of peace while I comforted my boyfriend. His face was in the crook of my neck as he shook with violent sobs and I rubbed my hands up and down his back trying to soothe the ache in his heart.
“Logan you did amazing, it wasn’t your fault. I’m so proud of you. You’ve come so far, I love you so much” I whispered in his ear as I kissed the side of his head.
We stayed like this for a moment, as Logan continued to sob I continued to try to soothe him and murmur sweet nothings in his ear with more small kisses on his head.
After a moment or two, I felt Logan pull away before he looked me in my eyes. I could tell he wanted to say something.
“What happened, Baby?” I whisper as I bring my hands up to his face to wipe his tears away
“I don’t deserve you.” He whispers, his voice breaking again as he moves my hands from his face
“Lo, don’t” I say, tears of my own springing in my eyes
“No Y/N/N, please. I don’t deserve you. I’m not good enough, you deserve to be with someone who wins and makes podiums. Not me, someone who finishes last or doesn’t finish at all.” by the time Logan was done berating himself, I was the one sobbing.
“Logan Hunter Sargeant. Stop talking like that. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me. There was before you, during you, and I never want there to be an after you. I have never loved anyone more than I love you. My heart is so filled with happiness and you’re the reason. You’re the reason I’m still alive today, I have the best life right now and it’s because of you. So please don’t break my heart because you feel like I don’t deserve you, because I never want to live without you. So unless you’re unhappy in our relationship, we are not breaking up. Are you unhappy with us?” Tears were falling like waterfalls from both of our eyes.
“No, I love you too much. I just don’t want you to be with a loser like me” My hands shot up to his face and I made him look at me
“Stop it, I’m not leaving you. I’m staying with you whether you win 100 grand prixs, 1 or none. I’m here until the Lord takes me from this earth. I promise” I said as I placed a sweet and sincere kiss on his lips before we rested our foreheads together
“I’m here always and forever”
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Leather. || Jeff x reader. Jeff is feeling insecure about his scars, but you're always there to cheer him up. **Reminder that my Jeff did not give himself his smile scars, they were given to him by his bullies.
It wasn’t the first time Jeff had found himself in this situation. Standing in front of his mirror, contorting his body to look at all of the scars covering him, his hands tracing over the leathery flesh of his burn scars, occasionally drifting across the torn-up flesh of injuries he’d accrued since working for Slender. 
His hands would always end up working their way up to his least favorite scars, the smile carved into his face unwillingly. The scars that haunted him the most every time he looked into the mirror were the root of his physical insecurities. It hadn’t helped him that past partners had always taunted him with cruel remarks at the end of their relationships about how terrifying, disgusting, and unattractive they made him appear in their minds. Words that have cut far deeper than any scar and made Jeff resent himself for his outward appearance. 
When he started dating you all that time ago, he’d been just as worried that you’d feel the same way about his scars, that you’d grow to be fearful of him and his scars. Of course, you’ve never done anything to indicate those sorts of feelings to him, in fact, you’ve been nothing but comforting about his scars, always reassuring him that you loved him the way he was, that no scars would ever change that. He had begun feeling more confident in himself as the two of you continued to date, but that didn’t stop him from having mornings like this one, where he was standing in front of his mirror, disgust and misery etched into his face as he looked over himself.
That was how you found him. He hadn’t made his way down for breakfast yet, and you’d grown worried for him, heading upstairs and peeking into his room. You’d found him pinching at one of the larger burn scars on his arm, pulling and pushing the skin around, upset with the texture it developed from the severity of the burn. Time seemed to pass slower as you watched him from afar, sympathy overtaking you as you gathered the confidence to speak to him. 
“You look handsome as always, Jeff. I’ll say it as many times as I have to, that you’re the most attractive man I’ve ever been with.” Your words are quiet as you creep up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your cheek into his back. He tenses for a moment before relaxing back into you. 
“Yeah, sure,” he snorts at himself as he leans onto his counter, “handsome except for the scars.” You make a noise of protest at his words, creeping underneath one of his arms so you can look at his face.
You cup his cheeks with your hands, running your thumbs over his smile scars in the way that always causes him to tremble, the scars that he hates the most, and it’s then that the tears he’s been holding in decide to flow out. His brows squish up in that sorrowful expression you’ve grown familiar with as he blinks through the tears. He shakes his head at you before you even speak, his mouth trembling as he presses his lips together. 
“Jeffery…” Your whisper of his name convinces him to look at you, and he wants to punch himself for causing you to cry as well. 
“There is nothing wrong with you. I signed up for this relationship knowing full well about your scars, and they never bothered me because they’re a part of you, and I love you. I love all of you, even the scars and burns.” You run your fingers over his skin, tracing down the same leathery path that he had earlier, caressing his burns with more affection and love than he thought they deserved.
You reached up once more to cup his cheeks, pulling him down so you could press an adoring kiss to his lips, before moving to press kisses to the scars upon his face. You kissed your way down, peppering every scar in sight with affectionate kisses, causing Jeff to grow more and more flustered as you went. When you finally finished, it was his turn to grab your cheeks as he strongly pressed his lips into yours, shaking as he held you close, not wanting to let you go. 
“They really… really don’t bother you?” His voice was timid as he pressed his forehead into yours, and the smile you gave him caused him to fall into you even more with how much you melted him.
“Of course not. Never once have your scars bothered me, Jeff. I fell in love with you already having those scars, and I’ll continue to love you all the same.” He nuzzles his head against yours as he holds you, his arms squeezing you tightly to him. 
Jeff had always hated his scars and hated himself for having them, but… with you by his side, perhaps he could grow to love himself a bit more. With all the comforting kisses and caresses you constantly showed his scars, it was hard not to wonder if maybe there was nothing wrong with them after all. With you, all other voices of cruelty and harm fell into the background, and he finally allowed himself to feel at peace in his body, scarred or not. 
As he pressed you back into his counter, his lips claiming yours with a deep, adoring passion, he decided to at least try to accept himself with them. After all, he couldn't allow himself to hate something that you so affectionately cared for, that would be unfair to you, the only person he'd ever loved this much.
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vampqueen777 · 16 hours
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Summary: After a stressful week, you and Chan decide on a relaxing movie night, which turns into something more.
Chan x virgin!Reader
TW: afab reader, oral and fingering (f receiving), implied creampie, loss of virginity, slight choking, rough sex, reader is shy
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It’s been a long week. Work has been running you ragged. From deadlines to meetings to presentations, you’ve barely been able to take the time to care for yourself. Something that your boyfriend, Chan, wasn’t too fond of.
Luckily, you were off the rest of the weekend, and Chan decided it was a perfect time to pamper and spoil you. Tonight, the plan is simple, order in and watch a movie. You both decided to re-watch the Deadpool movies since the new one will be out soon.
Since you cuddled up with Chan for your movie date night, he has been running his hand back and forth on the skin of your lower back, below your shirt. It makes it so hard to focus on the movie, and you find yourself fidgeting to get some friction where you needed it most.
You were a virgin and nervous as all hell. You’ve been in this position with Chan before, but you haven’t gone any further. You want to, but your nerves keep getting the best of you. What if you mess up? What if you don’t make him cum? How do you even bring it up?
Your brain is all over the place. The movie has pretty much become background noise for your thoughts.
By now, the food has been devoured, and the two of you are halfway through the second Deadpool movie. Chan can tell you aren’t fully paying attention to the movie, most likely still thinking about work. Little did he know that work was the last thing on your mind at the moment.
Chan really just wanted you to have a relaxing weekend after the week you’ve had. Luckily, he knows a few more ways to get you to relax.
He began letting his hands wander a bit more. Kneading and massaging your thigh, trying to get you to relax, but when he feels you tense even more, he begins to think he's made you uncomfortable.
“Baby? Are you okay? Am I making you uncomfortable?”
You can’t find it in you to answer, so you give a quick shake of your head. This causes Chan to raise his eyebrow, looking at you questioningly. He reaches for the remote and pauses the movie, sitting up to look at you properly.
“What’s going on? And don’t say nothing.” Chan pushes.
At that point, your cheeks are burning with embarrassment at getting caught in your dirty thoughts. You find yourself burying your face in his chest in an attempt to hide. This only worries Chan more. You're aren’t the type to hide things from him, so when you hesitate to tell him what was wrong, his mind thought of the worst-case scenario.
“Baby? You’re scaring me. Please tell me what’s wrong. Did I do something? If so I’m sorry, and I can fix it. I just need-” Chan rabbled. Hearing the worry and panic in his voice has you snapping your eyes to meet his, and you’re quick to reassure him.
"No! No, baby. It’s not you. I promise. You haven’t done anything wrong, and you have nothing to apologize for.” You say, quickly. Chan lets out the breath that he didn’t even know he was holding. Just relieved that he hadn’t upset you.
“Whew, good. But is there still something on your mind, right?” Chan asks.
Damn. You’ve been caught. Quickly, you try to think of a way out of this without embarrassing yourself. Chan, being as observant as always, notices this.
“Babygirl, you know you can tell me anything. If something is going on, I deserve to know so we can work through it.” Chan says softly. You know he’s right, but you still have no idea how to bring up the topic of sex. In that moment, your brain decided that the best way to tell Chan what had been plaguing your mind was to just blurt it out.
“I think I'm ready to have sex with you.” The words coming out so fast that you weren’t sure Chan even heard you. But he did. And he froze. Did he hear you right? Were you sure? What if he hurt you? His mind was racing just like yours moments ago.
You take Chan’s silence as apprehension and try to mend the awkward moment. “I-I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m sorry if I made-” Your words have Chan snapping out of his daze, and he is quick to stop your rambling.
“No, baby girl. Don’t apologize. I was just shocked, that's all. I mean, are you sure? I don't want you to feel pressured or like we have to rush into anything. I'm okay with waiting.” Chan reassures you.
“I’m sure. I’ve been thinking of it for a while now, I just didn’t know how to bring it up.” You inform him. Chan stares at you, trying to find any hint of apprehension, but he finds none. After a brief moment, Chan leans in to kiss you. You welcome it, opening your mouth to allow Chan’s tongue to snake in.
Before long, the kiss turns passionate, and clothes are strewn across the apartment as you both make your way into the bedroom.
Chan has you pinned to the bed, peppering kisses down your body before settling between your legs.
“Can I taste you, baby?” Chan asks, looking up at you. You shyly nod your head. Your nerves are high. You worried you don’t taste good or you’ll mess up.
Chan could read your worries easily. Taking your hands in his and interlocking your fingers, he silently reassures you. You take a deep breath and nod your head again, telling him you're ready.
That was all the confirmation Chan needed to start eating you out like a mad man. He couldn’t get enough. You were so sweet. So perfect and the noises you were making were nearly enough to make him cum immediately.
It felt so fucking good. You could feel your high quickly approaching, pleasure drowning out your nerves. Your finger snake their way into Chan’s hair, trying pulling him even closer but resulting in a deep groan coming from Chan. That was enough to throw you over the edge.
Once Chan is pleased with how he’s prepped you, he pulls away and removes his fingers. He watches your pussy clench around nothing over and over before he gently rolls you onto your stomach.
Chan settles behind you, resting on the back of your thighs. "Ready, baby?" He asks. You give him a shy nod. "Okay. Deep breaths. Relax." He says calming as he starts to push in, slowly.
The stretch is painful, and you struggle to stay calm and relaxed. When Chan feels you tense up, he stops. "Shhhh, you're okay. Just relax." He says, soothing you.
He gives you a moment. Once he feels you relax again, he starts pushing in again. You put all of your energy into focusing on your breathing and trying to stay relaxed, but as the burn intensifies, you find yourself tensing again. Chan is quick to notice and pauses again. "Easy baby. You can take it. You just have to go slow. We're halfway there." He says calmly as he massages the tense muscles in your back.
Soon, you find yourself totally relaxed again. It's like his praises have put you under some sort of spell. You barely even notice that he's pushing in again. It isn't long before Chan finds himself buried to the hilt in your heat. You're so tight and warm around him. All he can do is groan as he tries to remain still. You, on the other hand, are completely overwhelmed by the fullness you feel.
It takes you a while to adjust, but Chan, being the gentleman he is, waits patiently. He just continues to massage away all your tension while whispering soft praises.
"See, I told you you'd be able to take it." He says, peppering light kisses down your neck and shoulder.
You move slightly, trying to get more comfortable and find yourself whimpering at the pain.
"It hurts." You whine to Chan. "I know, baby. It's okay. It's normal for it to hurt a little your first time. You're okay, I've got you." Chan says as he continues to layer kisses over your skin, trying to soothe you as well as ground himself. It's all he could do to not pound into you like a mad man.
After a short while, the pain begins to fizzle out. "Okay, I think you can move." You tell Chan, once again relaxing your body.
Slowly, Chan pulls out, and you find yourself hissing into the pillow. Chan just shooshes you as he slowly pushes back in. He repeats the motion, leaning over to take one of your hands in his as his other hand rests on your waist.
Once he feels you relax more underneath him and he hears your whimpers morph into moans, Chan picks up his pace a little.Pleasure begins to spark like electricity all over your body, but there is still a tinge of pain.
"How does it feel, baby?" Chan groans out. He is doing absolutely everything he can to keep a slow, steady pace for you, but he's slipping.
"It still hurts a little, but it's starting to feel good." You tell him honestly through whimpers and moans you fail to hide. He hates how you try to stay quiet but knows you're shy, and it's your first time, so he will let it slide for now. Chan leans in close, trailing kisses up your neck and to the sweet spot behind your ears. He lets out a deep groan as he feels you clench around him.
"Want me to make it feel even better?" He whispers in your ear. You fail to stop the moan that spills out of you as you eagerly nod your head, leaving a cocky smirk on Chan's face.
"Lift your hips a little." He demands, and you're quick to comply. The hand that was resting on your waist snakes its way down between your thighs and plays with your wetness, gently strumming your clit, leaving you gasping.
That did it. That broke him. He couldn't hold back anymore. "Say red if you want me to stop, okay." Chan says, clenching his jaw. You quickly nod, letting out a faint yes. Chan tucks his knees closer to your body before he begins bucking wildly into you.
The room is filled with the rapid sound of Chan's body connecting with yours and your louds moans that can no longer be contained. Chan was right. This feels amazing. You don't even know why you were so nervous to do this anymore.
Chan chants praises and groans, and he pounds you into the mattress. He keeps a constant and steady rhythm on your clit. It isn't long before he feels you clamping down on him with a scream of his name. It takes everything in him not to cum on the spot. He wants more, he needs you to come again.
He quickly pulls out, making you hiss, before flipping you on your back. He's back inside you, pounding away, before you even have a chance to comprehend the position change. Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you hook your feet around Chan's waist, trying to pull him deeper.
Chan lets out a growl as he snakes his hand up to your throat, squeezing ever so slightly. Your eyes widen as they meet his, grabbing hold of his wrist. He's watching you so intently, looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he's met with a look of total bliss on your face as you clench so hard you nearly push him out.
You're quickly approaching another high and Chan has no intention of slowing down until you cum again. Chan is close too, trying desperately to hold off, to finish with you. He's a babbling mess of praises and groans. You're so close to the edge, just needing another push to send you over. You use your other hand to cover your mouth as you feel like you want to scream in please. This pissed Chan off. He ripped your hand away and held it above your head.
"Don't do that. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel." Chan grunts. You comply, and you're sure there will be a noise complaint in the morning.
"F- Fuck, baby. You feel so good. You're gonna make me cum! Please, please baby. Cum with me. Cum." Chan babbles. That's all you needed to hurtle into a mind-numbing orgasm, taking Chan with you.
For a few minutes, the room is filled with the sound of your combined panting as you both can down from your highs. Chan slumps forward, releasing your throat and wrists and supports his weight on his elbows.
"Are you okay, baby? Did I hurt you?" Chan asks, loving tucking some hair behind your ear. You look at him with a tired smile. "No, baby. That was perfect. Thank you." Chan giggles."My pleasure, baby. Let's get you cleaned up, then we can cuddle."
He slowly pulls out you, and you both wince with the overstimulation. Chan tells you to stay put as he gets off the bed and heads into the bathroom. You hear the water running and wonder what he's doing.
Closing your eyes for a moment, you try to calm your rapid heartbeat and slow your breathing. You suddenly feel something warm and wet touch your inner thigh, making you jump. You open your eyes to find Chan wiping up the mess you've both made between your thighs with a warm cloth. Still so sensitive and now growing sore, you whimper in discomfort. Chan soothes you. "I know, baby, look at this mess. You did so well for me." Soon, you're all cleaned up. Chan throws the cloth in the hamper before tucking you under the blanket and crawling in next to you.
"I love you, Channie." You say tiredly. Chan can't help but giggle at how cute you are.
"I love you too, baby. Always."
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kyonix-sparkles · 2 days
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Pairing: scaramouche x gn!reader
Word count: 0.6+
Warnings:| oral fixation(reader has it), stimming?(can be taken as such), sucking on fingers, reader is stated to have sensory issues, reader is said to go into a sort of little headspace(bare with me people 🥲), modern au!
//This is based off a weird roleplay I was doing with ai last year don’t question it//
You always hated things for the way they felt, or the way they sounded, smelt, or even tasted, and if you're feeling extra sensitive the way things looked. Scaramouche’s hands though, no matter what he did they were always soft, like the porcelain of woods just always soft and smooth. Life was always hard with your oral fixation, never having something to suck or bite on, not having something cold or spicy enough. To avoid you being overstimulated or anything like it scaramouche bought things you said usually helps with it, so; lollipops, suckable candies, strong mints, just about anything spicy you liked and extra ice traps to keep stocked up with ice if ever needed.
But you just replaced the ice trays, your eating your last lollipop and you ran out of any other candies you could even possibly have same with the spicy foods and you didn’t want to tell scaramouche because he’s your boyfriend and you know him, well more like your scared of him reacting how your patents did yell at you for eating up everything for no real reason. So now you’re sitting next to him, burnt out and needing to stim but once more having nothing to stim with. You leaned on your boyfriend who was hunched over reading a book. He could tell by your sigh something was wrong to he gently patted and played with your hair before asking
“What’s wrong dove?” You exhaled long after his question before finally speaking up, “I need to stim but I’m out of everything..” he sat up, genuinely shocked “really..?” You once more burnt out, too understimulated to care you nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me I could’ve bought you more in advance..” “..whenever I told my parents they’d get mad..” scaramouche was a little offended and hurt by this, “dove I’m not your fucking parents” he said with his usually snappy tone. “Why are you yelling at me? okay, I’m sorry..” he sighed now realizing you're understimulated. He got an idea but y’all haven’t tried it before, but he doesn’t have any spare change as he needs it to help save up for a car so he can get to and from work easier. “Dove, I have an idea okay?”
You almost perked up, “hm?” He offered his fingers, the two middle ones pressed together while his pointer and pinky finger were outstretched. “Here suck on my fingers..” you blushed a bit, more so out of embarrassment than anything due to this catching you so off guard, and you’ve never sucked on anyone’s fingers. You stampered to get your response out so he rolled his eyes and sighed. “Just suck.. I don’t care.. do what you need to to feel better..” you blinked before taking his two middle fingers in your mouth and starting to suck on them. The sanded wood of his fingers made it so that they were just right for you and your texture sensitivity. From this point on he just continued reading, almost as if you weren’t sucking on his fingers as a means to stim. After a few minutes you laid on his lap and continued your autistic behavior and your boyfriend didn’t mind at all, once every few minutes he’d kiss your head and continue wherever he left off before he finally asked.
“You okay little dove” you were in a smaller headspace due to feeling safe, and due to work you haven’t done it in who knows how long. It did take scaramouche a minute but when he realized he kept quiet and let you do you, it’s not often you get to do this for yourself. You soon fell asleep and once he was done and you stopped sucking on his fingers he eased you into talks shared bed and tucked you in before joining you, kissing your head and cuddling you.
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lace-coffin · 2 days
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could you write something with Bubba Sawyer who's dating a s/o who is chubby(and ftm if that's all right) and they dislike how their body looks. It would be amazing if this included smut.
Bubba Sawyer with a ftm!chubby!Reader who’s feeling insecure (NSFW)
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I use he/they/she for bubba in my fics btw!
Both you and bubba were bigger guys, both having a soft layer of fat cushioning your body to paw at and whisper sweet nothings into on warm Texas mornings in bed. You loved Bubbas body, big burly and hairy, thick arms to carry farm equipment and to hold you when you need protecting from the harsh outside world. You wouldn’t change a thing about your partner.
So why couldn’t you extend that love to yourself? It wasn’t like you disliked fat people, your beautiful girlfriend was fat for Christ’s sake, all soft curves and smooth edges you couldn’t keep you hands off so why did you feel so gross about your own body? You adored it on bubba but on you it just all seemed…wrong. You didn’t always feel this way, some days were better than others and you’re working on accepting and loving your body but it’s such a struggle on days like these.
work around the homestead finished for the day you practically jump bubba once he’s kicked off her boots and wiped the sweat from her brow. Squealing in surprise and making a soft ‘oof’ noise from the impact they return the affection, sliding their thick arms around your middle and placing a soft kiss onto the crown of your head. There’s no missing the way you squirm in discomfort, shrinking under his touch and pulling away almost as if burned.
Instantly your partner is checking you over. Did she do something wrong? Are you injured somewhere? are you feelings sick? Placing their hand back onto your stomach they whimper, worrying you might need a trip to the doctor, the nearest one is so far out too..
Giggling a little at their motherly instinct you remove his hand from your stomach, guiding her hand and lacing your fingers together, pressing a kiss to their knuckles.
“I appreciate your concern honey but I’m not sick so don’t go worrying yourself about that”
Bubba lets out a relived breath, glad to know you won’t be needing to be hauled into the truck and driven out of town to the nearest doctor but if that’s not the issue then what..? Cocking their head to the side they sign “please tell me?”. If signs could have a : ( emoji you’re convinced it would be tacked on the end. She looks like a wet cat in the rain, sick with worry.
You sigh and relent, not wanting to admit what you’ve been dealing with but wanting to scare your partner even less. Seeing your reluctance he squeezes your hand in encouragement, prompting you to go on. Taking a deep breath and releasing you start.
“I haven’t been feeling good about my body, I’m usually fine with how I look but right now it just freels…gross. Like my skin doesn’t fit the way it should and my fat is sitting all wrong. I just don’t feel very handsome right now.”
The look that passes over your partners face can only be described as pure heartbreak and confusion. Shes thinks you’re the most breathtaking man in the world so why..? You’ve had bad days sure but never pulled away from him like this.
Seeing the expression plaster itself on their face in time real time makes you scramble to explain.
“It’s nothing you’ve done! I’m just having a shitty day, been feeling weird and out of it…I’m sure I’ll be ok soon”
You’re not sure whether you’re trying to convince bubba or yourself.
Nodding in understanding she signs again.
“How can I help? I love you”
“Love you to big guy! Just uh, do you mind if we hang out in our room today? I don’t really feel up to seeing everyone at dinner.”
Humming in agreement you make your way up the stairs, bubba squeaking out an embarrassed noise as you slap his ass that’s just sitting in front of you. It’s too tempting not to. She doesn’t take that lightly, grabbing you by the waist (once you reach the landing, they’re not trying to break both do your necks.) and slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You kick and struggle but you’re easily overpowered, not that you don’t love it, but what’s life without a little fight?
Bubba tosses you onto the bed, giggling at the way you bounce before landing. You spread your arms with an amused look and invite them to join you. Wasting no time he crawls into your arms, mask unfastened and slung to one side. Earlier into your relationship it had taken a lot of trust and work on both ends to get them comfortable enough to unmask around you but now it’s like it never mattered in the first place, you’ve made him feel so loved and worthy without the mask it makes her wonder why she was ever so adamant on keeping it on.
Sweet kisses between the two of you quickly turn heated and rougher, tongues gliding over eachothers messily, muffled moans caught between bitten lips. Thick fingers trail down your body, dipping below the hem of your shirt, teasing the soft plush skin there and asking permission. You wiggle under his hold, the fingers playing with your shirt ticklish, and give them a nod of confirmation. Wasting no time Bubba wrestles your shirt over your head only to be met with your binder, she gives a less than excited groan at the extra layer, signing “arms up”
You snort in response “yes mother” you reply sarcastically.
An unreadable look passed over his face, devolving into a smug smile.
“Mommy?” They sign out
“Hey, whatever you want, cutie” you joke back, helping them tug your binder off and taking a well needed deep breath. Delighted as always his hands fly straight to your plush stomach, grabbing handfuls in appreciation, fingers trailing along the happy trail peaking from your already damp boxers.
Suddenly hit with an idea, your partner pauses, snapping their head up to meet your questioning eyes.
“Can we try something new please? I have an idea..” she signs out shyly
Never one to turn away from a new experience you agree, nodding and squeezing his hand. You wriggle out of your boxers and throw them to the side, they can wait until later.
“I trust you” you smile back, giving them the go ahead to get started on whatever they’re planning. Humming in agreement he takes himself out of his boxers, already hard and happy to continue.
“Well hello to you to” you giggle, giving them a quick stroke, causing them to groan and buck into your hand. Huffing she readjusts herself, you spread yourself open for him and close your eyes, waiting for the delicious stretch of her inside you, but it never comes.
Slipping open your eyes in confusion you let out a surprised yelp as your boyfriend’s thick cock is slapped onto the plush surface of your stomach.
Bubba pauses for a moment, meeting your eyes as to ask for permission to continue their ministrations.
“Go ahead handsome, I’m happy to see how much you enjoy my body.” You smile back, leaning your weight onto your elbows behind you, keen to enjoy the show.
With one final nod he begins to thrust again, wet cock slipping over your soft tummy. The noises from their mouth are downright sinful, little gasps and moans making you squirm in your spot.
“There’s my good boy, hm? Gonna cum for me?” You lull out, a lazy smile on your face.
Your words of encouragement push them over the edge, with one final moan they release onto your stomach, warm and sticky.
“Fuck, you like it that much baby?” You giggle, petting Bubba’s hair, who’s now collapsed onto your dirty tummy in a panting mess. You receive a muffled groan in response. You’ll take that as a yes.
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bluepixiedream · 3 days
Text
Okay okay I’m currently writing ‘Good Dogs Only’ chapter 2 BUT I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA I CANT HOLD BACK. I NEED TO VENT IT OUT.
IM VERY EXCITED
OKAY HERE WE GO
Cw: violence, language, blood, cursing, and kidnapping. Kind of a dark fic? Viewer discretion is advised.
Picture it:
Cute, pretty innocent reader who works hard at their job, enjoys their nice home that’s located outside of town, your flower and small vegetable garden that you spend hours on to make it more lively, all sorts of books on your living room shelf (quite obviously doesn’t get many visitors due to the adult nature of some of these books) and occasionally binges Doctor Who. Normal. Peaceful. Nothing out of the ordinary.
After work one day, you head to a small market for some dinner supplies which includes a pot roast, a meat cleaver and a bottle of rum. Unbeknownst to you, a stranger hides in the backseat of the car while you’re inside and you are none the wiser. Throwing the items in the passenger seat, you head on home. Music blaring. A lit joint between your lips and the wind in your air. Friday night and you have a hot date with a few toys and a new book that should have arrived this afternoon. Everything was perfect.
A light pops up on the dash and anxiety slams into you like you can’t imagine. What was wrong now? Could you make it home? How much would this cost? Before, you weren’t high enough and now you were too high. You wanted to curse yourself.
Pulling over as quickly as you could, you decide after a minute to check all the doors and make sure everything was okay. Before you could take off your seat belt, a plastic bag is placed over your head and tightened.
Panic and adrenaline floods you as you struggle to breath. Your hands, that immediately went to your neck to relieve the pressure, release and attempt the poke a hole through the thick, unforgiving plastic. You think that this is it. This is how you die. Pathetic and alone. Murdered of all things.
But thankfully you tear through and air hits your screaming lungs. Without thinking, you wrap a hand around your brand new meat cleaver and begin swinging behind you. Somehow managing to get out of your seatbelt, you continue your brutal assault until you're sure you killed your attacker, or at least, knock them out.
You're breathing hard. Everything is covered in the attackers sticky, cooling blood. You can’t even cry. Completely shocked at what has transpired these last few minutes.
Not knowing what to do, you start driving home again. Music off. Windows up. Fear stinking up the air. The drive home had never been longer, nor quieter.
Pulling to your house, you open the garage door and drive in, refusing to get out until the door shuts completely. You hear the man, their attacker, groan in pain and you kick it in high gear. Grabbing a dinning room chair and some rope you had hoped to use for private time, you use what strength you have to pull him in the chair and tie him like you’ve read over and over again in your BDSM books. You tightened the ropes as much as possible before stopping. The man is trying to wake, but can’t. Blood is drying against his head and bruises are blooming across what you can see.
Leaving your car door open, you grab your groceries and, in a complete and utter daze, turn off the light and head inside.
Once inside, you wash your hands before starting dinner. Halfway through with zero thoughts in your head, the attacker is awake and screaming at you to let him go. That he will kill you. You will suffer greatly for what you’ve done. You don’t do anything until dinner is put in the crockpot and you take a quick shower to get rid of the rest of the blood.
What to do, you think. Do you call the police? Wouldn’t they wonder why you didn’t call immediately? Why take him back to your place? Is that weed they smell in the car?
Would they release the attacker? Would the attacker come back for you to finish the job?
You can’t think. You can’t deal with this. What should you do? No family to turn to. You can’t get their coworkers involved, that’s just wrong. You have nobody.
You remember a bar near the other side of town, near an empty field. It’s normally filled with military people, bikers and gangsters. A “neutral place” so to speak. Nobody fucks with each other and they got booze, music and sometimes ladies who paraded themselves. It was a haven for them.
And a perfect spot for you to go and find a person to help you…deal with this situation.
Changing clothes and almost feeling a bit better, other than the man screaming if you listened hard enough, you decide it’s time. You stop at the garage and realize you can’t take your car, wait for a cab to pick you up a block away. Before you leave, you tell your attacker that you are getting help.
You don’t clarify what help you're getting, or for who. For the attacker, or for the attackee.
The cab drops you off a few blocks away from the bar and happily accepts the cash you hand them. It’s getting dark, the lights from the bar illuminates way and the big man who is watching people come and go waves you in. He thinks it’s definitely not the your scene, but who is he to say otherwise?
People fill the bar. Some are playing poker. Others are sitting at the bar and others are in booths having secretive discussions. You can’t help but feel eyes on you, clocking you, a shark drawn to blood. You try to not look around too much before going up the bar and ordering two shots of vodka to calm your nerves. As soon as they arrive, they’re both immediately knocked back, side by side. You order two more and start to feel comfortable enough to look around.
A few men in leather jackets playing pool glance at you but they go back to playing. A few people covered in tattoos and dark clothes stay to themselves in a booth closest to the door and the other booth holds four men who were obviously military. One man had mutton chops and a beanie. Another was beautiful with dark skin, full lips and a baseball cap. The third had a Mohawk and a lazy smile to whatever mutton chops had said. The last, and the one you figured out was staring a hole into you, was a complete enigma. Built like a tank and scarier than the boogie man, a black mask covered his whole face as a sewed on skull mask covered the top part of his face. His eyes were dark, and latched on to yours immediately.
Hands sweaty and nerves shot, you throw back the two shots once more before gathering the courage to walk up to the big man in a skull mask.
Apart of you rips you to shreds. How stupid you were. You already had one psychotic maniac in your garage and here you are, walking up to another one, possibly.
Nobody at the table was ready for you to walk up, as suddenly the atmosphere changed as all four eyes locked on the new arrival.
The 141 was use to people staring at them, whispering about them, wanting them. It was completely different when someone actually walked up to them. And especially being as…innocent as you were. A cute flower shirt stating “Carrot On My Wayward Son” with blue jeans and sandals didn’t exactly scream “intimidating!”. You had everyone’s attention.
But especially Ghost. Who clocked you as soon as you stepped in and didn’t stop as you drank and took inventory of the crowd.
It was exhilarating.
“Can I get you a drink?” Was the first thing you said and it was directed at Ghost. If you could scream at yourself, you would. No introductions, no “sorry for interrupting” or “I hope you guys are having a good night”. Immediately going for “do you want a drink and take me home?”. This wasn’t you.
Neither was almost beating a man to death, so you were finding out new things about you all the time.
You didn’t pay attention to the rest of the guys, who looked wildly at each other. This was NOT what they had expected but they stayed silent. Many people didn’t approach Ghost but here you were.
He stayed silent as well, taking note of your facial expression and watching as it fell. Taking his silence for rejection. Before you could apologize and turn around, his voice came out from the mask and if you survived this whole ordeal, you would beg him to read a manual so you could masturbate to it later.
“Bourbon. Kentucky.”
A smile laced your lips as you nodded and turned around to order it for him. He decided rather quickly that he liked your smile and wanted to see it more. Ignoring the rest of his team, he got up and silently followed you up the bar. You snagged a place by the wall and waited as the bartender completed your request.
You couldn’t ignore the behemoth of a man standing next to you and you couldn’t stop your face from warming up as you realized how close you two were standing.
“Not y’r usual scene, luv?” His voice vibrated through you. Addicting. You chuckled looking up at him.
“That obvious?”
“Dead give away.” His gloved lightly touched your shirt, but you could swear he just set it on fire. You couldn’t help but also blush at how ridiculous you must look. You laughed at yourself.
“I guess I didn’t see what I put on before getting here.” You tried explaining lamely, suddenly thankful the bartender chose to drop off his drink.
“Put it on my tab. ‘ers too.” The way he said it made your argument die on your tongue. Of course you could pay for it, but how could you say no?
You could see him pull his mask up and you found the bar to be interesting, desperate to give him privacy.
He would be lying if he said that didn’t make his cock hard. Look at you. Being so obedient and so polite. Fuck, it was gonna kill him. After his mask was back on, you turned back to him, losing yourself in his dark eyes.
“Thank you.” In your head, it was confident and stern but in reality, it barely came out a whisper.
“Wha’ do ya need, luv?” Getting straight to the point, and it brought you back to why exactly you were here in the first place.
You weren’t here to flirt with guys in skull masks. You were here because you were in trouble and you needed help. You couldn’t help the broken inhale or the way you chest shuddered. Ghost clocked all of it. Suddenly, his dark thoughts became even darker.
Something was wrong with his little luv and he wanted to fix it. No, he needed to fix it.
“I’m…kind of in a bind. And I don’t know what to do.” He hummed at that. He glanced back to his table before meeting your eyes.
“Your place or mine?”
~
You explained you didn’t drive here and asked if you should get a cab. He declined, stating he’ll take you both. Giving him directions to your place, you couldn’t help but be surprised at his vehicle of choice: a black Harley. You should have guessed but it still made you stutter. He looked over at you with your wide eyes and eyebrows near your hair line and laughed. Deep and velvety and it grew a flower inside of your chest that you couldn’t explain away.
“Scared, luv?” Ghost chuckled, fixing to put his helmet over your head. “Hang on tight.” Watching him mount his bike should be considered illegal, and you couldn’t help the clench of your thighs as you took in this specimen.
It had been way too long.
He turned on his bike as you got behind him and hanging on to him tightly, he began the ride back to your house. Your prison. You soaked in his warmth and the way his muscles contracted against your chest. He was all muscle and it had been too long since you felt muscle. You wished the drive was longer, so you could pretend that maybe you actually went to the bar looking for fun, and you really did pick up a guy and now you were headed back to your place to see how far you would go. You could actually be normal.
But all dreams end and yours ended rather quickly as he pulled up to your driveway. You waited for him to kill the bike and tell you it’s okay to let go. He does after a moment. He didn’t want you to know how good it felt having you wrapped around him. Like you belonged there. Like you belonged with him.
Tearing the helmet off and shaking your head, you hand it back with a small ‘thanks’. You both stared at each other before his eyes left yours to look over at place. Jogging your place to memory. Now he knew your address, and if you thought he wasn’t coming back, well, you would be sorely mistaken.
“Cute place.” His voice melted you and you couldn’t help but give him genuine smile. You did appreciate his comment, you had worked hard on your yard and house. This was yours. You wanted to make it perfect.
You begin walking to your front door as your heart went into overdrive. You feel like you should turn him away. You should get a rain check. You wanted this guy to come back, not help you with this. You didn’t want to scare him away. Before you knew it, both of you stood in the front door as you dug in your pocket for your house key. Finding it quicker than later, your hands shook as you unlocked the door. Before you could do the logical thing and stop him from coming inside and discovering one of your deepest and darkest secrets, you swing the door open and step inside.
It was quiet, thankfully, as you allowed this hunk of man to walk in after you and close your door.
Ghost didn’t know what to expect. You still haven’t told him what issue you were having and his mind was going wild. Was it a boyfriend issue? Landlord being a prick? Stalker who couldn’t get the message?
Looking over your house, he thought it was too fucking cute. Maybe you had a rat issue and didn’t have a man to help you out. Of course, Ghost would help you out. And you two would be discussing payment later after it was done.
He took in your soft yellow lights filling the room. An older episode of ‘Doctor Who’ playing silently as his eyes took in your posters that covered your walls. Some of them were older movies. A few he recognized, like ‘The Thing’ by John Carpenter and ‘Legally Blonde’ with Elle Woods. He had Johnny to thank for having control over the TV one night in the barracks and he didn’t want to admit that it caught his attention more than not.
Your bookshelf caught his eye next as he took in your collection. A few were a book series that he didn’t know but they looked fantasy in nature, and others were one offs and some horror books scattered around but one that caught his eye and made him turn back to you was: ‘How to tie up your partner properly and 99 other things BDSM related.”
He couldn’t help the smile, even if you couldn’t see it.
“In a bin’, yeah?” Your cheeks violently heated up as you realized he clocked your books and saw one that must have peaked your interest. You crossed your arms and laughed, heading now towards the kitchen to stir the crockpot, to keep yourself busy.
“Sorry about those. I don’t really get much company. They’re just for looks. Like gag gifts.” You tried to explain. Ghost followed you and took in a big whiff of what was one of the best things he's ever smelled before.
Look at you in your perfect little home, not scared to go to a bar filled with bad men, approaching him like it wasn’t a death sentence and respecting his privacy while he drank. And fuck. The food smelled delicious. You were perfect. Absolutely perfect.
“‘t’s okay, luv. You give me whatever’s cookin and I’ll get you in and out of any bin’ you want.” You thought he was still lightly making fun of you. You couldn’t be further from the truth. You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. Your heart was thumping thinking that the garage was too quiet. Was the man sleeping or did he escape? Was he waiting for you to check on him before attacking you again? Would this new man actually help?
Did you make the worst mistake of your life?
Deciding no time like the present, you needed advice and sooner the better, you stood by the door, less than a foot away from Mr. Tall, Dark and Sexy and took a deep breath in.
“I was hoping you could help me with this. Help me…navigate. I don’t know how to explain it, so I wanted to show you first and then tell you, if that’s alright?” Your voice started off strong but got quieter as time went on. Ghost suddenly became rigid and aware of his surroundings. He couldn’t think of what could possibly be behind that door that you so desperately didn’t want to show him, but had to. You needed help. And you found him.
It didn’t matter what was behind that door. Of course he would help you, sweet thing. And then he would eat dinner with you, then fuck your brains out and while you were sleeping, install some security cameras before asking you out on a proper date.
You had interested the beast when you walked in bar, and his interest has only been growing since.
“Go ahead luv, I got you. I’m ‘ere.” His voice shouldn’t have calmed you as much as it did, but you couldn’t stop the wave crashing over you. You trusted him and that was terrifying.
Unlocking the door, you swung it open.
The smell was the first thing to hit him.
Dried blood and sour piss wafting in and leaking into your home. The darkness was consuming and you couldn’t see a inch in front of you until you flicked on the light and your horror scene could be fully realized by the man in the skull mask.
Other than the small green car that had its back door opened with dried blood covering the seat, a small freezer near the back exit and a shelf full of canned goods, there was a bloody man, tied up with his head off to one side, either dead or passed out.
“I know what it looks like but-“
“Little dove, this is exactly what you think it looks like.” You expected him to sound horrified, or at least disgusted. Not…amused. It startled you but you kept your cool. Maybe this was his initial reaction. He certainly wasn’t expecting this, you assume.
You head to the freezer to grab a bottle of alcohol. Rum. Ghost closes the door with you three in the garage and walks to the tied up man. He takes note of his stained and soiled clothes, multi-day stubble and greasy hair. Ghosts gloves hand reaches out and grips the man by the hair, waking him up and forcing him to look at Ghost with a dazed look before all sleep vanished and what was left was pure rage. Ghost held out his other hand for the bottle, which you did as you were told. He quickly made do with the cap before pushing the man’s head back and pouring some in his mouth.
“How d’ you end up here? Honestly.” His voice dropped lower than you had heard it before. It was terrifying and made you realize how nice he had sounded before. How much you enjoyed that.
The man tried to turn towards you but Ghosts hand wrapped tighter around his hair, refusing to let him move an inch. “Not at her. Me.” He commanded and you realized quickly that this man wasn’t just a soldier but a leader. A commander in his own right. It was terrifying and yet, strangely, horribly turned you on.
It had been way too long, you completely decided.
He had gave you back the bottle which you took gently before standing away from the two, trying to stay out of the attackers eye sight, trying to listen to the man who was clearly in charge now. The attacker sneered, his lips curled back as he gauges the guy that held him.
“This stupid fucking bitch-” before you could put together what happened, the attackers head snapped back and he yowled in pain. Fresh blood spurting out from his nose as now he laid crooked and absolutely broken. Ghost didn’t give him a second before yanking him back to him, anger now littering his voice.
“Wanna try tha’ again without insulting my little dove?” You couldn’t stop the warmth from flooding you. When was the last time someone spoke about you like that? Protected your character like it was your job?
You were definitely going to call him after this, you thought happily to yourself in this middle of the chaos.
“Oh fuck you man. Your girl is a fucking cunt-”
Another hit and after that Ghost began walking away, beckoning you with his fingers, which you obeyed without a care in the world. The man was left to himself screaming and when the door closed on him, his screams were greatly reduced but still there if you listened. And you did. You stayed quiet, gauging what the newcomer thought. Ghost stayed silent, and inched his hand to the bottle that you held which you gave him graciously. He pulled his mask up to drink and you looked away again, but you could hear it pour down his throat and it settled something warm in you. Once he was done, he pulled his mask back down and gave you the bottle and you followed lead. The rum eased some of your anxiety, letting you feel warm as you pulled off your shoes and sat on your couch, waiting for him to join.
Ghost grabbed a chair before dragging it and sitting it directly in front of you, invading your space. You wouldn’t complain. Maybe he wasn’t close enough…
“So, luv. I was expecting some boyfriend issue. Maybe dirty landlord, or a fuckin’ rat. But kidnapping and torture? Well. If you didn’t have my interest before, you definitely got it now.” His accent was deeper and darker but you couldn’t say if he was angry or not. Your eyes dropped from his in shame and landed on his chest before his fingers lightly gripped your chin to lift them back to his. You gulped before you nodded. Fear soaked you through and through. You needed to tell him your story. You needed him to understand.
“Well, I was driving home from after work…”
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kayentokk · 1 day
Note
Hey :) How are you doing?
Okay so, i wanted to request a platonic father Aizawa in which he is out patroling and he finds his teen daughter doing something ilegal with her friends or something like that.
Please and thankss :)
A/N; I’m okay thanks for asking! Love this idea, I’ve gotten many requests somewhat related to this lately actually! I’ll be posting those throughout the week. Also sorry it’s taken me a while to get to this! 🥲 I truly believe Aizawa is a girl dad and a softie parent. 
Pairing; Platonic!Father Aizawa x Fem!Daughter Reader
Contains; a little ooc Aizawa, fluff, soft, drug mentions, reader is about 16-17 like mha characters, quirk-less reader, death mentions, bad friends, comfort
wc; 1,763
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You weren’t supposed to get caught. In fact, you didn’t even think you would. It wasn’t a big deal anyways, you only did it because you thought it’d be a way to relax with your friends. Plus, if you guys did get caught your backup plan was your father. It wasn’t like he was going to detain you…right?
Wrong.
You were very wrong to believe that your father wouldn’t take you into custody over a little weed with your friends. You just wanted to have fun! Besides, you didn’t want to be the ‘perfect heroes daughter’ who’s a buzzkill. Why couldn’t he understand that? 
There was just so much pressure that came with being the child to a hero. Your friends already joked about how you were too ‘good’ to do anything remotely illegal. Which is part of the reason you were in this situation in the first place. 
Of course he just happened to be patrolling around the alley you and your friends decided to get a little high in. That was just your luck, he didn’t seem mad though. So you thought he’d just tell you guys not to do it anymore, and move on. Nope. Leave it to Aizawa to want to teach you a ‘lesson’ all of a sudden. He was normally just a “don’t do it again,” kind of parent. Mostly because you had never done anything of this caliber before.
“Did you really have to bring me in?”
Silence.
“I mean come on, none of the other heroes care. They’re too busy thinking about protecting the city, shouldn’t you be too? Nobody cares about a couple of kids getting a little buzzed, besides everyone does it nowadays-“
“That doesn’t make it okay y/n.”
You’ve rarely seen him like this, so tense. He didn’t look angry, but you couldn’t shake the feeling you got that he was. It was almost….scary. 
So you resigned to a simple, “Okay, I’m sorry.” Were you really sorry though? Not that much, you still didn’t see the big deal. 
He let out a low grunt, “This is serious y/n, I know you think I’m making a big deal out of nothing,” well he said it first, “but you could’ve been seriously hurt.”
“Hurt? From getting a little high?”
“Criminals lace that stuff all the time, whether it’s with poison, more drugs, or whatever else they decide-“
“Yeah sure, but we got it from a trusted source-“
“And who’s that?” He said crossing his arms. 
Oops.
You decided it’d be best not to respond right now. Especially since the source wasn’t technically trusted, just another kid who got it from someone else. Who probably got it from someone else too.
Sensing your apprehension he decide to drop it, “we’ll revisit that later,” he said waving a dismissive hand. “I’ll drop you off at home, you’re grounded.” 
You internally groaned at that, grounded? That’s a new one, you were starting to really regret your decision. You should have just told your friends no, even if it meant being the ‘buzzkill.’ Then you remembered, your friends-
“What about my friends?”
“We’re working on calling their parents to come pick them up soon.”
“No!-“ you said sharply, “I-I mean, can’t you just let them off? Or something?”
“You know that’s not how this works, they are already getting off with a minor offense. The worst they’re going to get is their parents’ scolding.”
“Dad! You don’t understand-“
“I understand perfectly fine, a bunch of young kids wanted to ‘have fun’ and thought this was the best way to do it.”
Okay maybe he did understand, but not your side. He didn’t get that now you’d officially be the outcast, the top 10 ranked hero’s daughter who gets everyone in trouble. Does he get how embarrassing that is? 
“Come on, let’s get going.”
You stood from the chair leaving the comfort of being shielded, by the small desk separator, from your friends’ piercing gazes. They thought your dad would let you all off too considering the chaos the city’s currently in. 
You nervously waved and mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to them before rushing out the door trying to follow closely behind Aizawa. 
You guys didn’t speak the whole way home, you opted for silence mostly because it wasn’t that big of a deal and he just didn’t know what to say. You had never done anything like that before, or had he just never caught you? When did that start?
He remembered when you were little and you’d give your vegetables to stray animals so you didn’t have to eat them, or when you tried to sneak out at night and he caught you. But those were all pretty minor things, and he was only always concerned with your safety.
You’d never done anything this bad, and in terms of the worst thing you could do of course this wasn’t horrible but he still didn’t get why. It couldn’t have just been for fun.
He entered the house after unlocking the door and opening it for you. Before you could make it to your room, where you’d probably go to sulk, he decided he’d ask.
“Why did you want to do that y/n?”
You stopped and turned around to face him. He was standing in front of the door, and now that you actually took in his appearance he looked tired. His dark circles more prominent, eyes a light pink most likely from his quirk, and his black pants had small patches of dust that had been hastily patted off on them. 
You replied after a moment, briefly forgetting his question, “For fu-“
“And don’t just say for fun, because I know you and there are plenty of other things you would do for fun.”
You huffed resigning to just come out with it, “it was a bet.”
“A bet?”
“My friends bet me that I wouldn’t get high with them since I’m a hero’s daughter.”
“And you decided to take them up on that?”
“Yes, I know it was stupid okay?”
“I know you know, you’re smarter than that. So why’d you say yes?”
Why’d he have to be so persistent? “Maybe because I thought I’d finally get some friends.”
“What do you mean y/n? You do have friends.”
“No, I don’t. Momo, Tsu, and Uraraka only hang out with me out of pity, since you’re their teacher, if they even have time-“
“Pity? Y/n no they don’t, there’s nothing pitiful about you at all-“
You scoffed, “don’t lie. I get you’re my dad and all but be honest with yourself, truly honest.”
“I am being honest. I’d never lie-“
Guess you’d just have to spell it out for him then. “The only daughter you had killed your wife, was born quirk-less, and there’s nothing special about her!” You were shocked at the admission of your own feelings but kept going, “I don’t have a talent, I’m not exceptionally smart, I’m not breathtakingly pretty, and I can’t even make friends!” You listed raising a finger for each reason, “Now tell me what about that is not pitiful?”
After that question there was silence, and Aizawa was just looking at you. You hadn’t even noticed you were crying until the first tear slid down your nose crease and hit the corner of your lip. Before touching could even wipe your tear or register the sound of footsteps approaching you, you were being hugged. Fully covered by his arms, your head grazing the bottom of his chin where stubble had began to grow, face buried partially into his scarf. 
You heard high pitched wailing, which you hadn’t even registered was you until his hand began to rub up and down your back with quiet ‘shh’s to try calming you.  
“Don’t cry, it’s okay. It’s not your fault, none of it okay?” He began whispering in your ear.
“Your mom and I both knew the challenges she’d have if she gave birth to you. We were well aware, and she wanted to have you. She didn’t care if she’d die in the process, you are our child.”
He continued comforting you, and when you eventually calmed down he let go and gently pulled your face out of his chest so you could look him in his tired, red eyes. “I love you so much, and I’m sorry if I don’t tell you that enough okay? It’s my fault I’m sorry. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and you’re perfect. I mean that, I’d never lie. You don’t need a quirk, to be super smart, or have a special talent. You’re perfect to me, okay? And that’s all that matters. You’re important to me,” he said firmly. 
“Okay?”
You sniffled, reaching a hand to wipe your nose, “okay.”
“Hey,” he said turning your face back to his, “I really mean it, I’d be no where without you. And how could you say you’re not beautiful? I know I’m not the best looking hero, but haven’t you seen the pictures of your mom? You take after her, gorgeous. Nothing I’d ever change about you, I don’t regret anything.”
“Okay,” you said slightly unused to him saying these things, “I’ve never heard you say something so corny dad,” you said chuckling trying to lighten the mood. 
At that, he gave a small grin which faded when he remembered your earlier point, “And Ochaco, Tsuyu, and Yaoyorozu do like being your friend. Not just because I’m their teacher, trust me I’m more of a supervisor if anything. I let them figure most stuff out on their own. They wanted to meet and hang out with you. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit, you make friends just fine.” 
“I know, I know, it was just heat of the moment stuff dad.”
He let out a sigh of relief, hugged you once more, and pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead.
“I still have about another hour of night patrol, but I’ll stay here if you want me to?”
“No dad, it’s fine go.”
He looked at you once more as if saying, ‘are you sure?’ 
“Yes I’m sure I’m fine, it’s only an hour anyways.”
“Okay, call me if you need anything, I’ll be back soon,” he said headed towards the door.
“Okay,” you said starting to walk to your room. 
But just before he shut the door you dashed for it and started, “Hey! does this mean-“
“No you’re still grounded,” he said. 
And with that the door shut.
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@/cafekitsune for the divider!
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Shadow
Amelie saves Rolan from the shadows and then gives him a piece of her mind. SFW.
“Wait, is that Rolan? I thought he had better sense than that.” Gale said with an eyeroll as the group consisting of himself, Amelie, Shadowheart, and Karlach found him surrounded by two shadow-fiends.
Fuck.
What the fuck is wrong with him?
ROLAN, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!
It was a smaller battle than the one that just occurred at Last Light, but it still left all but Karlach with almost no spell slots left.
But that was of no consequence to Amelie.
ROLAN!!!
She hurried down the small hill, rushing towards him and Shadowheart. Please let him be okay. Please. Please.
“Gods damn it all. I can do nothing right---not a damn thing.”
“You’re supposed to be at Last Light.” She panted, staring at him like he’s mad because he is. WHAT THE FUCK?!
“I’m supposed to be saving Cal and Lia! Instead, I found myself cornered by shadow-fiends and in need of rescue. From you, of all bloody people.”
Biting back the urge to ask why her “of all bloody people”, she shook her head. “You were trying to help your family---you’re too hard on yourself.”
“Or not enough.”
The acid in his voice made her heart sink a little.
“I’ve failed Cal and Lia, again. Be on your way---I’ll return to Last Light…I know when I’m outmatched.”
Within moments, he was gone.
And Amelie had an urge to return to Last Light to give him a piece of her mind. “Let’s head back and get some more healing potions…then I need a long rest.”
“You and me both.” Gale snarked, stretching his back. “Gods, adventuring is not kind on the back, knees, and hips.”
The women laughed and nicely teased the wizard.
But her mind was preoccupied with another wizard.
***
“You can’t leave me alone, can you?” Rolan spat at Amelie, who after a quick bath and a change of clothes, found him at the bar and sat next to him. The children and most everyone else are in bed, so we’re kind of alone. Alone-ish. “Going to tell me I shouldn’t be drowning my sorrows?”
“I think,” she began carefully as she poured herself some water. “You should stay hydrated after drinking so much alcohol, Rolan.” She then grabbed a second glass and poured him some. “Here you go.”
He slammed the bottle on the counter, startling her. “I don’t need you pitying me. Haven’t you done enough?”
Something inside her snapped.
She turned suddenly and grabbed him by the shoulders to face him towards her. “You listen to me, you arrogant shit. That little stunt you pulled earlier could’ve fucking killed you. We are fucked, Rolan. We are so incredibly fucked, but I need you to stay here and stay safe, because I cannot lose another godsdamned person I lo—” Amelie shut her mouth and felt tears in her eyes. I lost Da. My mentor. One of my best friends. Uncle Ned. This journey has been nothing but death around every corner. Not you too. “I care about. So please, I am begging you, stay here.” She bit back a sob. “Please, Rolan. Please.” Before she knew it, her face was in her hands, her body wracked with sobs.
She did not expect to feel a hand on her head. She also did not expect his other arm to wrap around her thick waist.
“Shh, please don’t cry. I’ll have the bloody water, you damnable woman.” He grumbled, and Amelie could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll stay, but you must…you must get them back safe and sound, do you understand?”
Nodding, she sniffled as she lifted her head.
She did not expect to see what many would describe as a touching look on his face as he handed her a handkerchief. “Now, dry your tears. A young lady such as yourself shouldn’t be crying over me.”
As she wiped her tears, she stopped for a moment and blinked. “Why?”
The question dumbfounded him. Well and truly. “Why what?”
“Why shouldn’t I cry over you?” She placed the handkerchief on the counter and stared at nothing across the bar. Because you’re wonderful and I like you… “You’ve survived being in the Hells all while keeping Cal and Lia alive and well. You stayed at the Grove, even when you so desperately wanted to leave…all to protect them. Because you stayed, the children are alive. They’re alive, Rolan. Because of you. You even did quite possibly the most stupid thing ever by venturing into the Shadow Curse by yourself because of your love for your siblings.” Turning her head suddenly, she once again faced him, a desperate look on her face. “How could I not cry over a person like that? Of course, I would…and have cried over you.” She offered him a tired smile. “I should go to bed. It’s been a long day, and tomorrow will be even longer.” As Amelie rose from the stool, Rolan also stood, as stiff and awkward as they come. But so adorable. “Goodnight, Rolan.”
He watched her trudge towards the staircase (I was given a room last night at Isobel’s request) and squeezed his eyes shut. “Why is tomorrow going to be long?”
Without looking back at him, she sighed. “Because we’re going to Moonrise Towers tomorrow, and I intend to find and free the prisoners.” She stopped and took a deep breath. “I’ll get them back. I promise.” No matter what. Make sure Shadowheart has Sanctuary prepared.
“I want to believe you,” he said softly. “I need to believe you.”
Amelie, more quickly than he thought considering how tired she was, descended the stairs and hugged him. Yeah, I did it. I needed to do it. And he needed it. So it’s fine. Rolan stood (somehow more awkwardly) but after a minute or two he wrapped his arms around the half-elf. “What does your heart say?” She whispered, holding him gently.
“I-I don’t—”
“Don’t think. What does your heart say, Rolan?”
He finally relaxed and shared in her embrace. “They will be back safe and sound. I trust…I believe in you.”
Never in a thousand years did Rolan expect her lips to briefly touch his cheek before she blushed and went upstairs to her room.
And the next day, some time in the late afternoon, Cal and Lia arrived at Last Light.
After thanking her profusely, his heart leaped at a realization that hit him like the metaphorical ton of bricks as she greeted one of her companions.
He was in love with Lady Amelie Wildheart.
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Vampires x Reader Misunderstanding
[Hey, back to bug people again in this fandom. This is basically a set up of one character saying, “As my partner,” and the other interrupts, “We’re partners?!”]
Strauss- There were many things that Strauss thought were unlikely, if not totally impossible, to be. One of them was that he would gain deep, personal feelings for someone. That was why he was more than interested in how you were doing in these troubled nights. You had shown him elements of himself that he did not even know existed, as well as being one of the few that could tell him outright when he was doing something that you thought was foolish. He in turn would do the same for you. Which was why he had made sure that he had time to talk to you privately tonight. It wasn’t anything huge that you had done wrong, nut you were starting to develop some habits that were concerning to him. Once the two of you were alone, he thought over his words carefully, as he always did. “As my partner, you-“
“I’m your partner?!” You interjected before he could say anything else.
He’s confused as you are now. Of course you’re his partner. True, he never said as such verbally, but he also thought the fact that he had let you get closer to him than anyone else he had ever known showed that fact clearly. However, after this, he does try his best to be sure to express his feelings for you more clearly.
Gary- The two of you had actually gotten into an argument. Neither of you could remember about what it was about originally, but it was one of those unfortunate situations where there were many things you had both been meaning to talk to each other about, but had not done so in a healthy manner, so it was all coming to the surface now. Gary was more than over the whole thing and snapped, “I would think you would be more willing to see my side of things as my partner!” Before he could say the rest of his argument you interjected with a confused, “We’re partners?”
The mood in the room immediately changed.
Shit! Had he read the feeling between the two of you both wrong? Of course, you weren’t actually that into him! He was just a lonely creature living in the sewers, making relationships where there were none out of desperation.
However, when you assure him that despite the initial confusion you do actually want to be his partner, he immediately switches to denial. He can’t stand not looking suave in your eyes. Of course he knew that you wanted to be his partner. He knew that before you even did! That’s why he said what he did. He wasn’t worried about it at all! Shut up!
Abrams- The two of you were walking around town when you saw something that you liked. He seemed to pick up on this, and before you could even think to say that you liked it, he was in the store and back out, placing it in your hands.
“Uh, thanks. But you didn’t have to buy this for me.” You mumbled out in embarrassment as you were wondering how much you were eyeing this thing if it was clear that you wanted it so much. What you were hoping the most is that he didn’t thing you were trying to hint at him to spend money on you.
“Yes, I did. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t spoil you? Besides, it’s been awhile since I’ve been able to do that for a partner.” He stated somewhat point blank, but with a hint of caring for people that knew how to pick up on the subtleties of his voice.
“Wait, am I your partner?!” You question a few seconds later after what he said had sunk in.
“Of course, you are.” He confirmed. He spent the rest of the night thinking over things between the two of you to try to find where the confusion came from. He wanted to be sure nothing else was confused between the two of you, of that you felt pressured to be with him if you really didn’t want to be. Most of this he keeps to himself though as he doesn’t want to seem unsure or indecisive to anyone, including you.
Andrei- He was confused to say the least. Though, his proud Tzimisce would never let those emotions show on the surface. Here you were finally with him, and it seemed like you wanted to be anywhere else. You were going to be so much for him, a person to confide in, someone to help him in all his endeavors, basically his right hand in everything. If that were to be the case, then he would need to figure out where this attitude of resistance was coming from.
“You must understand, little one. Such behavior is unbefitting of someone I intend to elevate to the position I have planned for you.” He tired to reason with you.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked me.” You spat angrily at him.
Did… did you not get the many gifts that he had left for you? He wasn’t able to give them to you personally in most occasions, but there should have been little doubt that they were indeed from him. They were all so finely crafted, how could you not know how he felt about you? Perhaps, gift giving simply was not a love language that you reciprocated or even understood. No matter. There was plenty of time for him to more properly express himself to you now that you were both together. And, you would be together for a very, very long time.
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hella1975 · 9 months
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basically threw away £20 on my nails today so was already getting weird bc i apparently cannot be normal about money and then my paycheck came through just for my manager to have knocked off 11 hours worth of pay. so naturally i am crying in a dark room about it
#this is such a girl moment wdym you’re crying about your fucking nails. couldn’t explain it to you if i tried#im just an utter FREAK about money and then for my payslip to get fucked as well. whyyyyy would you do that#im not built for the working world truly idk how sensitive people do it bc i am NOT im tough as shit 99% of the time and i STILL can’t deal#just give me my fucking money it’s not fair 😭😭😭 i worked hard 😭😭😭#and the dumbest brattiest part of this is that the thing that tipped me over the edge is that my mum didn’t offer to pay for my nails#like how ridiculous and spoiled is that but still i was so so angry at myself about fucking them up and it’s £25 to get them done tomorrow#and I’ve worked so hard for her this summer and both days I’ve been in town I’ve got her things#like nothing spenny but I’ve just thought of her and got her things I know she’d like just to be nice#and £25 is NOTHING TO HER AND SHE DIDNT EVEN OFFER 😭😭 she even joked it off#she was like ‘your dad would offer to pay if he was here but I believe in lessons’ GIRL FUCK YOUR LESSONS I WANT MY NAILS DONE 😭😭😭#why am i actually in tears over this. this is so silly. now all my money is fucked and im going to be the skint one when we go to dublin#AS USUAL. even though i worked hard and clocked the hours it still got fucked bc im fucking. cursed#im aware im being dramatic and this isn’t even about the amount of money i have atm i promise this isn’t some desperate bankruptcy claim#like for once im actually fine money wise it’s just all been FUCKED and my dates are now FUCKED bc i have to wait for next paycheck now#and it’s so unfair bc usually things go wrong for me bc im DUMB and mess it up LIKE MY NAIL APPOINTMENT#but for work and dublin i literally planned it perfectly and did the hours and it still didn’t work#like what is WRONG with me. i hate being an adult i need a sugar daddy ive had enough#the message I sent my manager…. scathing…. ik his scared of confrontation ass is panicking. give me my fucking MONEY#hella goes home
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puppyeared · 10 months
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footnotes arent enough I need you to talk to me like im fucking Amelia Bedelia
#this isn’t about anything in particular btw. I just have to add a lot of memos when I’m doing things because some things are done a certain#way and it isn’t explained well in the instructions. like my mom has instructions on her baking recipes right#but when it says stuff like add dry ingredients to wet ingredients it also means you don’t dump it in one go you add it slowly by portion#this is probably why I find videos and demonstrations the most helpful when I learn something. like I almost always ask someone to show me#how they do it because there could be something they do that’s already second nature and wouldn’t really be considered in an explanation yk#I don’t think I’m an exception either. when the rice is done cooking I divide it into 4 quarters to bless it#but there are a million ways to divide rice and it makes me think that one persons way of doing it or not doing it all is just as valid#theres also technically no wrong way to divide rice afaik. this means either all ways of dividing rice is safe or valid until we find some#universally terrible way of dividing rice. until that happens nobody really thinks about specifying HOW you divide the rice#source: I have anxiety starting and doing things for the first time because I got way too many people yell at me NONONO WHAT ARE YOU DOING#THATS WRONG while I’m in the middle of doing the thing. I would rather have people think I’m either very stupid or overly specific#than go thru the panic inducing fear of ‘YOURE DOING THIS WRONG OMG WHY DIDNT YOU ASK AHEAD OF TIME THIS WILL BE FUCKED UP FOREVER’ 🧍#nothing wrong if you don’t give something a second thought because you’re so used to it. but I can and will ask about it and I don’t think I#really should feel bad about it if I don’t know enough to dispute it. idk#the other way around I try to be as specific as possible and word things in a way that people who might not get where I’m coming from will#understand. but the problem with that is my explanations tend to be lengthy and I lose them either way 🗿#Im. trying to work on that using examples and stuff because they seem to work the best#but if I could write everything down on a word doc and beam it into your melon that would save both of us time and embarassment#im rambling the short version is I have adhd#yapping
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arthur-r · 1 month
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as usual i am up late into the night planning my future when i should be: getting a good nights sleep so that i even have a future!!
#i have work in seven and a half hours. so i should really be getting to bed#BUT i officially made my final definitive degree plan!!!! i mean not the actual classes but all the requirements i have to meet and how!!#(in order to earn: history and information science double major. with certificates in material culture and classics)#and i’m genuinely excited for every single class i have to take except for human-computer interaction#just cause i know it’s gonna get overly technical in ways that won’t quite apply to my future#anyway every single other thing i’m gonna do is very cool and exciting. so everything is good really#but i should be sleeping. and i’m not. as usual 🤧#idk wish me luck!!!! i’m so hyped about my degree plan though#i’ll go into more detail another time. i’m very excited#ANYWAY goodnight!!!! can’t be so busy planning my future in library science that i DONT GO TO MY SHELVING JOB#kind of important to actually go to work for the library that employs me….#and then i might go see a first-printing roget’s thesaurus!!!! or i’ll sleep. we’ll see#followed by lunch with GUY WHO IS THE WORST KILL HIM WITH HAMMERS#(there is nothing really wrong with me he just keeps kind of being mean to me and also expecting me to fall in love with him. but like#extremely passively and not manipulatively it’s just like. hey buddy you’re doing this friendship wrong….)#anyway then i have a class and after that i have an hour to rest. and then a phone call and then a lot of homework#(ten page paper draft due in a week and a half!! so it’s time to start writing the actual body of it)#and then i sleep for a LONG time and then work again on saturday. and then sleepover with somebody i have a crush on??#and then be normal all day on sunday and do a little more paper writing. and programming homework. and whatever else#and then keep up with the slog for three weeks!!!! and all of a sudden it’s summer!!!!#projects left this year: material culture paper (entirely unstarted. but may research the thesaurus and just win!!!!)#history project (draft due the monday after next and real paper due a week after classes end)#one more programming assignment where i adapt my recipe doubler project (probably. it’s getting stupid at this point but it’s what i got!!)#and a programming test in two weeks and then the final a week after that. then no more programming#and then i just have my weekly latin tests and a latin final on may 5th. and then EVERYTHING IS DONE#ok i got this. sorry for walking through my schedule in the tags it’s how i remember what’s real#can’t believe my fucking partner just kind of walked out on me there hello???? like. we should be powering through finals together#but i’m genuinely better off without him so i guess it’s just whatever. trash took itself out or something??#anyway. i’m so regular. and i have work in the morning. and i’m going to sleep#thank you world. goodnight
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pastel-rights · 2 months
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And then I finally end it off with some doodles of them… they make me feel things.
#ringmaster doodles#sona art#( they’re very much the theme of. love in the face of the neverending march of time. )#( being immortal and knowing you will outlive the man you love because someone else deemed he unworthy of eternal life. )#( he may still have tens of thousands of years left. sure. but you know that those will go by and he’ll disappear in the blink of an eye. )#( and you’ll sit there on his death bed. wondering why did things end up like this? )#( wondering what you did wrong. and if you could have done something different. you’ll always ask yourself. )#( if he lives a life of happiness and comfort or did he live a life as gruesome and miserable as the wars on earth? but you won’t know. )#( and the more you think about it. the more you realize it. how nihilistic he was. and how he never seemed to smile even in the good times.#he always seemed to have a frown or a scowl on his face. he always seems bothered and unhappy. )#( so you wonder if it was something you did. because you know you aren’t perfect. you’re hardly good. )#( you wonder if he’s mad at you. maybe he was. but he doesn’t have the heart to stay mad. )#( and that’s love in the face of adversity. knowing that no matter how bad it gets. he loves you as you love him. )#( and you wonder why he never smiles. because he truly never does. and so you ask him. honest and true. )#( and he tells you there isn’t anything worth smiling for. nothing in this whole world. )#( but he smiles at you. it’s always small. and it’s always brief. )#( but that smile. that smile means love. )#( that hug. as flimsy as it may be. that hug means love. )#( of course. he isn’t affectionate. if anything. he detests it. he hates physical contact of any kind. you’ve noticed. )#( which is a shame. you love your hugs and your kisses and your hand holding. )#( but even if he doesn’t like it. he lets you do it. because it makes you happy. )#( and you learn that when you’re happy. he’s a little less miserable. )#( of course. not all love is equal. and not all love is fair. )#( the love from a lover and the love from the father can never equate to one another. )#( no one will love you in the same way a father or mother loves you. in the same manner. no one will ever love you the way I do. )#( because my love will remain with you. long after I disappear. )#( and as bitter as the idea of my own existence coming to an end is. knowing I did all of this for. essentially nothing. )#( that I’ve gone through all this pain and suffering and hardship just for it to all amount to nothing. for it to be fucking useless to try.#I get to die knowing that you’ll always love and be loved. and that’s enough for me… )#( … maybe there is something worth smiling for after all. )
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