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#but I was too small and bad at art to make content at the time lmao
awakenedevildays · 21 hours
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「alarms and compromises」 Art Donaldson x F!reader
you can read the other parts here!
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━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━
the alarm ringing loudly in Art's dorm room stirs you awake, your boyfriend's body under you is still sound asleep and you hurry to reach for the alarm to turn it off before Art can wake up and move on with his day.
You cuddle on him again, a content sigh leaves your lips, Art is just barely awake as he smiles to himself. He doesn't say anything, he just hugs you tightly and shuts his eyes again
The alarm rings again 10 minutes later and this time it's Art who moves to turn it off, "noooo stay with me" you whine and bring him closer to you. 
 "you know I can't baby, I have training" he says sweetly but you shake your head. 
"no you don't, you're confused".
Art laughs softly at your attempt to keep him in the bed, "you talk like you're not the one who reminds me when I have practice" he rubs his cheek tiredly.
"I didn't know that being a good girlfriend would backfire on me" you huff, but still your hand grabs his arm to turn him on his side and towards you, away from the edge of the bed, you make him wrap his arm around your waist while your head snuggles in his chest, your left thigh rests on his hip over his boxers.
"you are the best girlfriend but I can't skip practice... again, my coach will get mad" his left arms wraps around your shoulder and the other caress your thigh and ass lovingly "you're making it really hard to go, you know that right?" he asks.
"That's the whole point" you answer even if you know he is right and that he must go, but in your defense you didn't spend much time together in the last few weeks: with finals coming up and his tournaments it's difficult to have dates and you never felt as touch starved as you are now.
Art can feel the slight neediness in the way you cling to him, and he knows that it's been a while since you two had some alone time, he misses you too. He kisses the top of your head, "I promise, I'll make it up to you later, okay? I'll take you out anywhere you want, as long as you let me go now" he proposes and you seem to think about it. 
"fine" you reluctantly release his body and Art grins as you let go of him, he leans down and gives you a quick kiss on the forehead, "thank you" he says with a chuckle before sitting up on the edge of the bed, his arms stretching over his head and you watch as the naked muscles of his back stretch too.
He gets up and walks towards the closet to grab his tennis set before going towards the bathroom you close your eyes again, now his pillow in your arms to hug it. He comes out a few minutes later, fully dressed and ready for his practice. His eyes darts again towards his bed to see you hugging his pillow and a smile grows in his face as his feet carry him towards you, he sits back down on the edge of the bed and gently combs your hair with his fingers to get your attention, you look up at him with sleepy eyes and a pout on your face. 
He looks so good dressed in the red Standford shirt and black shorts, messy blond and curly hair kept under his backwards hat and his eyes still clearly tired from sleep.
"how am I meant to go when you look like that?" he teases as he takes the pillow from your arms to put it behind you.
"You're a bad boyfriend" you joke getting closer to him, your body curled around him makes his mind wander to all the things he's been missing the last few weeks and for a moments he thinks that he still has time to strip down and join you in the bed again even if he knows he can't. 
He laughs while his hand moves over towards your waist to caress it softly "hey listen" his other hand shows you his dorm key "I'll leave the key here so you can close the door when you get out, ok?" you nod. 
"I'll bring it back to you when you finish your training" you say as he leaves the small key on the bedside table. 
"Sounds good to me, I'll see you later?" his face close to yours and you nod, his lips touches yours, his minty breath on your lips makes you sigh even if the kiss ends too soon. 
Art steps back a few paces and looks down at you with a small smile: your body covered by his shirt and wrapped in his cover is almost too much to resist and he has to look away from you to get out of this damn room, "I love you" he says grabbing his tennis bag, you answer back immediately. 
"I love you too, have a nice practice! and tell your coach to fuck off" 
Art laughs loudly at your comment "I'll make sure to let him know you send your kind regards" he turns to look at you once last time "see you later baby" he says again and he closes the door behind him only after seeing your sweet smile.
He already knows he won't be able to get through the day without thinking of you in his bed.
━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━
Sooner or later I'll find the courage to write a decent smut, but today is not the day yet.
Advices, suggestions and reblogs are always accepted and appreciated!
Do not copy or repost.
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tellie-vision-art · 1 year
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I’m gonna be honest I lowkey want to draw Axel or maybe her with Priya but I don’t normally draw fanart and I am scared 😭
And also I would hate if people followed me explicitly for that BC I don’t normally draw fanart and I know it would be disappointing to see my OCs all the time. Like would any attention I receive from it be worth it if no one’s interested in my actual art rather than just the characters in it. Like there’s no demand for my art would anyone who follows me even care if I drew fanart 😭 it’s a double-edged sword
And like interacting with fandoms always ends poorly for me (Scream Queens bc harassment, Squid Game bc lots of gross people) what if I draw it and post it and the TD fandom gets ruined for me too somehow, I would die 😩 I fear interaction outside my target audience (followers and my friends) I suppose
#total drama was my first hyperfixation fun fact for you#but I was too small and bad at art to make content at the time lmao#but like damn what if I draw them and they look like shit in my style I would off myself#also tbh I headcanon Axel probably doesn’t care about shaving bc she’s too busy… surviving#and I don’t want to get roasted for drawing a woman with body hair 😩#I feel like also I want to give her a tooth gap I think her design would look aesthetically pleasing to me with it#I love her so much she was ROBBED#also she is trans and a lesbian she told me personally#if she told me to jump off a bridge I would with no questions asked#anyway random ship headcanon also: I feel like Axel is the one with the crush first#however her ways of showing affection are not necessarily seen as affectionate by other people bc she’s so intense#like i.e. I feel like she genuinely thought killing the squirrels for her team was a kind gesture#she just does not show things like kindness traditionally if that any of that even makes sense#THE POINT IS SHE’S SHOWING AFFECTION BUT PRIYA’S NOT PICKING UP ON IT BC SHE SHOWS IT WEIRDLY 😭#lmao I’m imagining her trying to gift her a knife (or saw!) bc she’s baffled at the idea of someone not having one for self-defense#SHE BRINGS HER (cooked obviously) DEAD THINGS LIKE A CAT 😭#she won’t get you flowers she will bring you military rations so you’ll have food when the apocalypse comes#maybe Priya even gets irritated by everything bc she’s capable of defending/doing things herself and she’s like#misinterpreting Axel’s shows of affection as her thinking she’s weak/incapable#and poor Axel wouldn’t understand what she’s doing wrong bc she is ensuring her survival! why is that not working!#Someone needs to help her but I can’t see her accepting help#but it would be funny to see someone suggest giving Priya flowers or smth and Axel’s like#why would I do that flowers just die wouldn’t you rather have a weapon for when the apocalypse comes#a strange way of showing affection but I think it would be CUTE#and it would be funny bc Priya would eventually show affection the normal way and Axel would not pick up on it at all#she would tell her she looks pretty today but what she REALLY wants to hear is I would trust you with my life during the apocalypse#the way to her heart is the apocalypse! she just tragically thinks it’s the way to everyone else’s as well#lmao I’m talking so much but it’s so funny to me#a disaster lesbian in her natural environment#they mean so much to me I saw them interact once and my brain was like yes this is it
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zooophagous · 1 year
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So why do you hate the advertising industry?
Hokay so.
Let me preface this with some personal history. It's not relevant to the sins of the advertising industry perse but it illustrates how I started to grow to hate it.
I wanted to be a veterinarian growing up, but to be a vet you basically have to be good enough to get into medical school. I do not have the math chops or discipline to make it in medical school. I went into art instead, and in a desperate attempt to find some commercial viability that didn't involve moving to California, I went into graphic design.
I've been a graphic designer for about seven or eight years now and I've worn a lot of hats. One of them was working in a print shop. Now, the print shop had a lot of corporate customers who had various ad campaigns. One of them was Gate City Bank, which had a bigass stack of postcards ordered every couple months to mail to their customers.
Now, paper comes from Dakota Paper, and they make their paper the usual way. Somewhere far, far from our treeless plain there is a forest of tall trees. These trees are cut down and put on big fossil fuel burning trucks and hauled to a paper mill that turns them into pulp while spewing the most fowl odors imaginable over the neighboring town and loads the pulp up with bleach to give it a nice white color.
Then the paper is put on yet another big truck and hauled off to the local paper depot, then put on another big truck and delivered to my print shop, where I turned the paper into postcards telling people to go even deeper into debt to buy a boat because it's almost summer. The inks used are a type of nasty heat sensitive plastic that is melted to the surface of the paper with heat. Then the postcards are put on yet ANOTHER truck and sent to the bank, which puts them on ANOTHER truck and finally into the hands of their customers, who open their mail and take one look at the post card and immediately discard it.
Heaps and heaps and literal hundreds of pounds of literal garbage created at the whim of the marketing team several times a year. And thats just one bank in one city.
I came to realize very quickly that graphic design was the delicate art of turning trees into junk mail.
And wouldn't you know it there are a TON of companies that basically only do junk mail. Many of them operate under the guise of a "charity," sending you pictures of suffering children or animals and begging for handouts and when they get those handouts the executives take a nice fat cut, give some small token amount to whatever cause they pay lip service to, and then put the rest of the cash right back into making more mailers. "Direct mail marketing" they call it.
Oh but maybe it's not so bad, you can advertise online after all. Now that there's decent ad blocker out there and better anti-virus ads usually don't destroy your computer anymore just by existing.
Except now when I search for the exact business I want on Google it's buried under three or four different "promoted search items" tricking me into clicking on them only to shoot themselves in the foot because I searched for the specific result I wanted for a reason and couldn't use those other websites even if I felt like it.
And now we have advertising on YouTube and on every streaming service, forcing more and more eyes onto the ad for the brand new Buick Envision that parks itself because you're too stupid to do it on your own.
Oh thats ok maybe I'll get Spotify premium and go ad free and listen to some podcasts- SIKE we have the hosts of your show doing the song and dance now. Are you depressed and paranoid from listening to my true crime podcast about murdered and mutilated teenagers? That's ok, my sponsor Better Help can keep you sane enough to stay alive and spend more money.
It's gotten so terrible that now you have content farms, huge hubs of shell companies that crank out video after video to get more and more precious clicks. Which if the videos were innocuous maybe that wouldn't be so awful except now you have cooking hacks that can actually burn your house down and craft hacks that can electrocute you being flung into your eyes at the speed of mach fuck so some slimy internet clickbait jockey doesn't need to get a real job.
It of course goes without saying that animals are also relentlessly exploited by clickbait companies that will put them in compromising situations on purpose to create a fake fishing hack video or even just straight up killing them for sport by feeding small animals to a pufferfish that rips them apart for the camera.
And all of this, ALL of this doesn't even touch how adveritising is the death of art in general. Queer topics, any kind of interesting art, any kind of sex or substance use topics are scrubbed clean and hidden at the behest of advertisers.
Sex education, a nude statue, topics such as racism or sexism or bigotry in general have tags purged or hidden from search, even life saving information about SDTs or drug use, because if someone saw that and complained then Verizon might sell fewer tablets and we can't fucking have that.
Conservative talking heads often bitch and moan that they're being censored on social media. The stupid part is, they're right! They are being censored! But it's not by a woke mob, it's by ATT and Coca Cola not wanting their adspace sharing screen time with their stupid fucking opinions.
However, they won't ever figure that out, because the talking heads they get their marching orders from like Tucker and Jones ALSO rely on the sweet milk flowing from the sponsorship teat and they aren't about to turn on their meal ticket so they have to come up with even stupider shit to say for the train to continue rolling.
I managed to rant this far without even getting into the ads I see for the beauty industry. The other day a botox ad described wrinkles as "moderate to severe crows feet" as if wrinkles are a symptom of a fucking serious disease! Like having a flaw in your skin is a medical problem that you need thousands of dollars of literal botulism toxin to fix! I was incandescent with anger.
Advertising is a polluting, censoring, anti educational and anti art industry at it's very core. It destroys human connections, suppresses human thought and makes us hate our own bodies. It ads no value, actively detracts from value, and serves no real purpose and I believe it should be almost if not entirely banned.
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danganrhys · 1 year
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i guess i should post an introduction :}
im rhys, im in my twenties (currently in university), and i was never quite able to shake my danganronpa phase (even though the fandom is pretty dead... at least compared to when it was at its peak a few years ago)
i do draw and reblog a lot of genderbend / rule 63 / genderswap / whatever-word-you-use-for-it. so if you dont like that feel free to block, i dont take it personally <3 alternatively, you can just block those tags
i also occasionally draw dr characters as furries / animals because humans are hard to draw... block and blacklist if you dont like, same as above ^^
here for a good time is all (and i didnt want to spam my main with reblogs anymore...) (on that note this is a sideblog! i like and follow from my main)
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tonycries · 4 months
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The Call - G.S.
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Synopsis. After an explosive fight with your boyfriend, you really should feel sorry about being swept up by the blue-eyed stranger at the club - but it’s so hard when he kisses you like that.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader, background Zenin Naoya x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, no curses! AU, Naoya gets cucked, Oggy & The Cockroaches cameo, NSFW, making out, cunnilingus, fingering, doggy, missionary, manhandling kinda, Satoru is taller, mentions of alcohol, pet names (doll, babe), oral sex (male + female receiving), Satoru is down BAD, cheating, I bully Naoya, car sex, overstimulation (male + female), swearing (I’m a pottymouth, sorry), exhibitionism if you squint.
Word count. 6.7k (being stuck on a farm really does that to ya)
A/N. BONJOUR BABYGIRLS, FIRST POST KINDA NERVOUS?? Based on The Call by Backstreet Boys. Art by @_3aem on X.
If you reblog, I’ll literally kiss you on the mouth (with your consent). <3
Cross-posted on AO3
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“Listen, baby, I’m sorry.”
He’ll see the marks.
“Jus’ wanna tell ya don’t worry. I will be late, don’t stay up and wait for me.”
He’ll know. 
Good.
Long fingers trail higher and higher up your thigh. 
Meeting his fiery cerulean gaze, the grip on your phone weakens - only one thought running through your mind right now. 
Satoru won’t let you get out of this alive.
Shit. How the hell did you even get here?
Hitting the club on a random Thursday with your friends means you’d geared up for a dead dance floor and some old creeps you’d have to fight off. 
Hey, it wasn’t perfect - but at least it would get your mind off of That Bag of Dicks. And the fact that it was your two-year anniversary with him today. AND the fight that led you to furiously text your groupchat demanding a night out. 
But, whatever, semantics. 
What you certainly did not expect was the crowd to be dancing in an uproar, and one white-haired man to be in the middle of it all. The creeps were still there - as always - but what did it matter when his electric eyes caught yours across the dance floor. Mouth curving up in a teasing grin as he kept gaze locked with yours.
Beautiful.
Wait. Ugh. You really needed to get a hold of yourself. 
Ripping your eyes away from this stranger’s, you check your phone - somewhat out of habit. 
0 new notifications. 
Well. Fuck it, you thought.
Downing your friend’s double shot, you mentally made a note to buy them a drink next time as you plunged into the dense crowd. 
Fuck Naoya. Fuck his mind games. Fuck his stuffy, exclusive family dinners.
And that uglyass e-boy hairstyle.
Maybe it was the Smirnoff, or maybe it was the music thrumming through your veins - all you knew was that the dancing bodies around you were magnetic, and you hadn’t felt this good in a long time. 
Yeah, this is exactly what you needed right now.
You’re moving your hips to the beat in all the ways your boyfriend wouldn’t appreciate. Running your hands over the top that stuck to you like a second skin. 
And that was when it happened. 
A hand grasps yours in midair. 
Ew, what the fuck. You’d barely formed that thought before you’re suddenly spun so that your back is pressed against the front of…a wall? A wall wearing such alluring cologne. 
No wait, that’s a person. Holy shit they must be some sort of gym rat.
“Hey, wanna dance on that table?”
You turn your head to snap at whoever this stranger speaking to you from behind is, partially impressed by his sheer audacity. 
But whatever curse or shout at the tip of your tongue died down when you saw those eyes from before peering down at you. Except, now that you were closer - almost intimidatingly so - you could truly appreciate what a breathtaking man he was. 
Ethereal white hair framing those incredibly blue eyes. And a small dimple at the corner of a grin, which moves as he cocks his head and leans down to repeat, “Wanna dance on that table?”
Dammit, you might have been ogling him for too long. 
The table in question was one fringing the dance floor, slightly battered from too much experience with drunk dancing. Yet, it didn’t seem like it would break down anytime soon - and your phone was tragically empty of any concerned calls from your boyfriend so…what’s the worst that could happen? 
“...Sure?” You answer, eyes still unmoving from his face. 
At most you’d just dance till you forget today.
And before you knew it, both of his hands rested softly on your hips as he carefully steered you through the crowd from behind. 
Upon reaching it, his long legs jump onto the table and he holds a hand out towards you - boyish mirth evident on his features and the surrounding crowd cheering in drunken camaraderie. Face slightly burning at the spectacle, you slide your hand once more into his grasp.
It should be illegal to be this good-looking and the life of the party.
This stranger had you belting out the lyrics of songs with almost-reckless abandon, hands ghosting your body as you two moved in sync. An unknown magnetism drawing you to each other like a moth to flame. 
You were most definitely the flame, you thought, with the way his intense stare left your skin burning. You felt your heartbeat banging against your ribcage in symphony with the strobe lights above.
He was towering in front of you now. An arm wrapping around your waist, and the other gently pushing away the hair from your face. Close.
“I’m Gojo Satoru. You can jus’ call me Satoru, doll.”
A large hand caressing your cheek now. 
“I’m-”
That was when you felt it. The incessant vibration in your skirt pocket that most definitely wasn’t the pounding club music - your phone. And you knew who it was. 
Shit, you lost track of everything. 
“...taken.”
The smile on Gojo’s face falters for the first time as he makes a noise of confusion.
“I’m taken. Sorry. See you around.”
And with that, you untangle yourself from his arms and make your way back onto the ground, weaving through the crowd that had formed around the table due to your guys’ little show. 
What the hell were you even thinking? Just because you were mad at your boyfriend doesn’t mean you don’t have one.
You look back and catch a glimpse of Gojo’s slight pout. 
Cute. 
But, your buzzing phone served as a reminder - now wasn’t the time to forget yourself. You came here to dance your worries off, not cheat on your damn boyfriend! Maybe you really should check out that couples therapist your aunt recommended…couldn’t be that expensive, could it?
A glance at your phone shows Naoya’s string of texts. A couple cuss words, some accusations thrown here and there - none of them true, yet you felt guilty as you made your way to the bar. 
He still didn’t call, but it’s a start, right?
Upon grabbing a seat at the counter, your friends excitedly rush to hear the tea. 
“Oh my gosh, WHO was that hottie you were up there on the table with earlier?”, they gasp and crowd around you eagerly. 
“Some guy named Gojo, but we just-”
One of your friends interrupts your explanation by tittering, “You know I always told you to leave that asswipe, Naoya. Glad you finally decided to stand up, girl.” 
The rest of your group make noises of agreement as you sputter your excuses, “What- NO. I told him I was taken. Either way, I know Naoya’s a dick but I’d never cheat on him!” 
You weren’t like that. I mean, he drives you mad but every couple has their moments, right?
“Well, are you sure you told him you’re taken?”
Your friend’s odd question makes you snap out of your little overthinking tirade, enough to turn to what the group was now looking at - or more like who.
Gojo was unmissable. 
A cloud-like beauty with locks of white, standing a full head above everyone else. But what jarred you the most was the look in his eyes as they locked upon you, like a man dying of thirst spotting an oasis on his last breath.
Well, shit.
“Not really in the mood to watch you two eye-fuck each other sooo we’ll prolly go dance. We’ll be nearby keeping an eye, though, so remember the signals, yeah?” you hear from your left.
You nod mutely as your friends leave you for a repeat of Heads Will Roll.
“We meet again, Ms. Taken.” 
You rip your gaze away from your friends on the dance floor to look up at Gojo. His stupid little joke startles a small laugh out of you. 
“Didn’t think you were one for dad jokes, Gojo.” you muse. 
“Please, call me Satoru.” he grins as he leans over the counter to order you both a shot of Baileys. “You’re an incredible dancer you know.”  
“Says the life of the party?” you laugh, turning in your seat to better face your interesting new friend. 
He conducts an exaggerated bow, bragging “What can I say? I’m quite great at everything.” 
Ah, the dramatic type.
“Now that just makes you sound sleazy, Satoru.” you tease, gratefully taking the shot from the bartender.
Despite the dim lighting of the club, you could make out the slight darkening of Satoru’s cheeks. But, before you could ponder that any further, he clinks his shot glass against yours and downs the liquor. 
Once you follow, he leans in closer to drawl “As sleazy as that boyfriend of yours?”. 
Goosebumps rise on your shoulders and you have to hold back a shudder - whether from Satoru’s deep voice in your ear or because of what he just said, you don’t question.
Raising an eyebrow, “What would you know about my boyfriend?”
You watch as Satoru’s eyebrows furrow slightly, a more serious expression taking over his face. “Oh, doll. You do know that your lil’ boyfriend is very popular with the ladies here, right?”
What the fuck? Okay, to be touchy is one thing but outright lying about your boyfriend is another.
You stare at Satoru blankly, unimpressed. Droning monotonously, “Ah, so you’re one of those guys that lie to pick up a girl, huh?” You see his eyes widen by the smallest fraction - clearly not expecting this kind of response. Then he throws his head back and laughs. The nerve.
Between cackles, “I’m not. But your boyfriend sure is.” 
And as you open your mouth to retort he plows on, “Nao-something, right? That two-tone-haired gremlin? Bumped into him last time I was here, he showed us a couple pictures of you, bragging about having a hottie waiting for him at home. It was almost heartfelt.” 
Satoru fishes his phone out of his pocket and fumbles with it before turning the screen to face you. “That was right before he started making out with some other chick, of course.”
And making out with some other chick he was. 
The picture was blurry - seemingly zoomed into the background of a group selfie - but it was undeniably your Naoya, only with the added detail of his tongue down some other girl’s throat.
This FUCKER. 
“...when was this?”, the words sounded foreign to your ears, as if spoken by someone else. But you knew from the way Satoru assessed you with slight concern that it was you who asked this.
“...last week.” 
Last week? Last week was when your boyfriend(?) was out of town for some alleged family dinner at the Zenin Estate. And the week before that as well. At this point, was any of it real?
“Another dinner, babe? Old man Zenin sure is stepping up with the family bonding.” you chuckle, as Naoya fixes his hair in the mirror.
“Yeah. Won’t be home tonight.”
“Staying at the Estate again? Ugh, well, stay safe. Love you!” you chirp as he flits out the door. Disappointed but, whatever, time to binge-watch those shitty rom-coms he complains about.
The longer you sat on that too-high seat at the bar counter, the longer things began lining up. His short fuse, the incessant texts, and most of all - his paranoia that you were cheating on him with any and every male in the vicinity. It was actually one of the things you’d blown up over before you left for the night.
“What? Naoya, babe, he’s literally my friend’s boyfriend. Why would I ever-”
“Oh yeah? Well I couldn’t tell cuz you’re such a fuckin’ slut. Y’know, going on dates behind my back and all.”
“It was a GROUP HANGOUT, I haven’t seen these people in ages. What the fuck is up with you these days- I literally love you and only you. Look - can’t we just celebrate our anniversary like usual, c’mon…”
“Just fuck off.”
Tears well up in your eyes. How could he do this to you? After two entire years? 
You felt so stupid. Your thoughts were running a million miles a minute, and it stopped on one - you were going to get revenge. 
Abruptly getting down from your seat, you turn without remembering to say so much as a goodbye to Satoru. Fuming, and mind filled only with thoughts of how you’d burn Naoya’s ugly, overpriced shirts. Or maybe you could even send his unflattering nudes to the Zenin family groupchat - that would give those uptight fossils a real kick.
Your thoughts of enacting revenge are halted only when a large hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you from heading for the club exit. Satoru’s ramblings hit you before you’d even turned to look at him.
“Look- I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out this way. I thought you two had an open relationship or something. Which - looking back - how the fuck would a douche canoe like him have ever convinced you to have an open rela-”
Out of the corner of your eye you spotted your friends worriedly making their way towards the two of you. 
You take a quick glance up at Satoru who was still in the middle of mumbling, “-shocked an e-boy bastard like him even pulled you in the first place.”
Fuck it.
Your body moved before your mind. You quickly shot your friends a thumbs up and tight-lipped smile that made them stop in their tracks, still slightly unsure. And with that, you grabbed Satoru and began dragging him to the exit, effectively cutting off his long-winded apology and/ or Naoya diss track.
Eyes firmly facing forward, you miss the mixture of delighted and scandalized expressions on your friends’ faces. The only thing distantly registering in your mind being the cold touch of Satoru’s wrist.
It was quiet outside. Your ears were ringing a bit from the chaos of the club, so you bask slightly in the serenity before Satoru speaks up from beside you, “So…changed your mind, Ms. Taken?”
Oh, right. You took a prize with you - and he didn’t even know your name, yet.
“Ah! Sorry- That was just on impulse, I didn’t mean-”, now it was your turn to ramble apologies for your hasty reaction. Just because you wanted to get back at your boyfriend doesn’t mean you should involve someone else in it!
After apologizing and giving him your name, you look up to see the twinkle in Satoru’s eyes. He seemed…amused?
“I did take you for a bit of a thrill-seeker after the table incident, but damn…”, he chuckles. “Well, now that we’re acquainted with each other, why don’t we give that lil’ boyfriend of yours something to really be mad about?” 
His words cause a shiver to run down your spine. What? 
He leans in close - so very close - and bats his long lashes, “That is what you dragged me out here for, right?”
Well, maybe you are sort-of the adventurous type. And maybe this is what your freshly heartbroken brain had concocted as revenge for your boyfriend’s betrayal - but wasn’t this too reckless, even for you? With what dignity you have left, you muster, “Once again, I’m so sorry for all of this. Let’s both pretend this never happened, you can head back and I’ll head…home.” 
“Where my cheating scumbag boyfriend is” is the part that goes unsaid. 
Satoru stays unmoving from his place in your personal space, defiantly staring right into your eyes, “You didn’t answer my question, doll.” he hums. 
It might have been the alcohol - or the way his lip curled oh-so-perfectly into a teasing smile - but you find yourself sighing out in defeat. “Fine. Yeah. That is what I brought you out here for but mind you it was impulse and-”
He has the audacity to look absolutely exhilarated at your response, cutting you off to muse “That’s perfect then, isn’t it? You get revenge on that cheating dumbass, and I get to fuck an absolute goddess.” 
At your stunned silence, he quirks an eyebrow and continues, “Come on, you really think I didn’t see the way you were eyeing me up before getting on the dance floor?”
“Well, you’re kinda hard to miss.” you defend, face warming. ‘And either way, I’m still in a relationship, we could even try couples therapy…and besides - I don’t even know you.“ 
Satoru’s grin only seems to grow at each word that spills out of your mouth, he was getting impossibly closer to you. Surprisingly, you didn’t mind it as much as you think you would.
“Why don’t you?” he murmurs, eyes unwavering from your face.
“Huh?”
“Why don’t you get to know me?”
You frown at the question, heart still stinging from the revelation earlier about your boyfriend. “Last time I ‘got to know’ someone it ended up with him cheating on me after two whole years.” you mutter darkly.
The amusement drains from Satoru’s face and his eyebrows furrow as he rasps out “That prick doesn’t deserve you.” His eyes flicker briefly to your lips, he was close enough now that you could slightly smell the liquor from earlier mixed with his expensive cologne. 
It was so intoxicating.
Against the rational part of your brain, you feel yourself leaning into his presence. You challenge, “And you do?”
“Absolutely not.”, he breathes out. 
And - fuck - then you’re kissing him. Because how could you not? Your lips are drawn to Satoru’s own like two halves of a soul that have connected after eons. Unbearable to part. He breathes you in like you were the only thing tethering him to this world. 
A small groan wrecks the back of his throat.
Shit, maybe it was the other way around. 
Your mouth parts, letting his tongue slide in. Satoru tasted sweet - like Baileys and every fantasy of a suave Prince Charming ever. You think that maybe you could get drunk off of his lips alone. You distinctly register the strong arm around your waist pulling you to him, sliding your hand up his chest and into those angelic locks. 
His mouth curls into a smile against yours. “Having fun, doll?” he chuckles, each word punctuated by small pecks to your lips. He pulls back ever-so-slightly to bite and tease the skin on your neck. 
Against your will, a quiet whine rips from your throat. Satoru was everywhere. But it wasn’t enough. You tug at his silky hair.
He seemed to get the memo. Connecting his forehead with yours, Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body before resting it on your ass, squeezing it lightly. “C’mon, use your words.”, he sounds just as breathless as you feel.
Raising your neck a little higher, lips ghosting over his, you whisper, “Satoru…I want to fuck you.”
He huffs out a laugh before murmuring lowly in your ear - words meant for you and only you - “No, doll. I want you to ruin me.” 
Your thighs press together, he was going to be the death of you. Satoru catches the small movement and hums thoughtfully, “I got a lil’ place nearby. Wanna go?”
This was stupid. This was reckless. And you were going to do it.
Following your impatient nod, the both of you hurriedly walk the short distance to where Satoru’s car was parked. You share your location with your girls - just in case - before Satoru pushes you against the backseat door of his jet black Hellcat.
Lips connecting once more, he groans out, “Need you here right now.” sounding at his wits end, “Please, doll.”
Before you know it, the door is opened and slammed shut, and you’re sinking into the plush leather seat. Satoru is hovering over you now, dim street light illuminating the lust on his features. You looked into his darkened eyes, now hinging on a black that matched his car. The air was still. Waiting.
Then broken by the cacophony of the theme song to Oggy & The Cockroaches. 
Ah, how classy. 
Mentally cursing yourself for how out-of-place that joke ringtone was, you pull out your phone as Satoru backs up a bit. Your heart stops at the caller ID - “Naoya <3” - anger and guilt filling you.
“Answer it.”, you hear from above you. Satoru, who had looked at your phone screen while you froze, was now smirking devilishly. He kisses your forehead reassuringly, repeating “Answer it.”
Well…you’ve already come this far…
“Hello?” you stammer out, answering the call. 
Your heart clenches as you hear Naoya’s voice demanding to know where you are right now. But his words go in one ear and out the other as you pay more attention to where Satoru held you, letting him do as he pleases while he takes the liberty to trail his hands where your skirt was hiking up. You could feel his thumb rubbing circles into your thighs. Tease. 
“Hellooo, can you hear me? Haven’t you had enough of fucking feeling sorry for yourself??” Naoya’s grating voice snapped you out of your reverie. 
Right, you still had to deal with that.
“Listen, baby, I’m sorry.”
Satoru’s hot breaths were fanning your hair now. His fingers continue their dance on your thigh. Feathery touch too light for any sort of friction, but just enough to set your skin ablaze. 
“Jus’ wanna tell ya don’t worry. I will be late, don’t stay up and wait for me.”
He bends down to kiss the crook of your neck and you feel his smile against your skin. Devilish and dangerous. Angling your head slightly, a jolt of electricity goes through your body as you meet his intense gaze - one that makes you feel vulnerable and exposed, despite being fully clothed. 
The grip on your phone weakens - only one thought running through your mind right now. 
Satoru won’t let you get out of this alive.
Your heated thoughts are once again interrupted by Naoya’s nagging complaints. Usually, you would have simpered on the line, but right now consoling your boyfriend was the last thing on your mind. 
“Say again? You’re dropping out, my battery is low…Jus’ so ya know, we’re going to a place nearby.”
Naoya’s shrieks of profanity are loud enough for Satoru to hear as well. He chokes on a laugh, quickly muffling it in the valley of your chest. 
You have to hold back a yelp as his soft hairs tickle your nose. Evidently bored of all your conversation, Satoru’s hand finally slips past your skirt and begins playing with the hem of your lacy panty.
Shit.
“Gotta go-”
And with that, you quickly hang up the phone and let it fall to god-knows-where. Satoru immediately catches your lips again, “Thank fuck, e-boy bastard was about to make me lose my boner.”, he mumbles against them. He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses against your neck and all the way down to your chest. “Keeping me your dirty lil’ secret, huh?”
A mischievous grin makes its way to your face as you hum, “For now. Revenge cheating isn’t as fun when they already know about it.” 
You wrap your legs around Satoru’s waist to pull him closer, feeling the outline of his cock. He grinds against you, letting out low, strangled groans at the touch of your clothed core. Both of you knew it - he wanted you so bad. 
Satoru’s fingers were now rubbing against your folds through your panty, causing you to moan at the friction. He playfully nipped at your collarbone before looking at you with eyes that look like he wanted to eat you alive. 
“Let me taste you.” he breathes out. 
You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Urgently, Satoru wasted no time in helping you sit up against the door, falling onto his knees to come face-to-face with your dripping pussy. He licks a long stripe, hands tightly gripping your ass to hold you in place. 
Where Satoru was suave when kissing you, he was absolutely filthy when making out with your cunt. “Mm- Tastes s’good, doll.” he moans against your wet lips. You couldn’t hold back your groans of pleasure, his mouth making your head spin. 
Finally, his hands on your ass swiftly remove your flimsy panties - completely soaked with slick and spit. You reach out to take a hold of them, but Satoru redirects your hands onto his hair. “Use me.” he grins. Walls fluttering at how fucked out he sounds already, you almost miss the way he pockets your wet panties.
He dives back into making out with your pussy, Tongue pushing its way through your folds and tasting every inch of you with purpose. His nose keeps rubbing against your clit, and mewls rip from your throat to harmonize with the lewd squelching sounds from below. 
Satoru pulls back to admire his work, satisfied at the disappointed gasp coming from you. “Fuck- look at you. So pretty and dripping f’me. Gonna make a mess of my seats, doll?” he rasps out. 
“Shut up.” you whine embarrassed, pushing Satoru’s head to where you need him the most. He relishes in the rough treatment, rolling his tongue harshly over and over against your throbbing clit. 
“Shit! Satoru!” you yelp in ecstasy as you buck your hips into his face. More.
Satoru now uses two fingers to spread your cunt even more, admiring. 
He bullies a long finger into your wet pussy. His ice-cold ring rubbing the base of your folds in stark contrast with the hot vibrations of his moans on your clit. It was all too much. You squeeze around his head - which only seems to spur Satoru on more as he increases his pace. 
A second finger slides in, curling in unison to search for that spot inside you which Satoru knew would have your sweet moans singing louder. 
Ah, there.
“S’good Satoru. Fuck. Right there, don’ stop.”, you whine as Satoru fervently continues his attack on your cunt. 
You call out his name over and over again. Satoru was everywhere. Everything. And he was the only thing on your mind as you cum with a strangled gasp of his name; iron-tight grip on his hair helping you ride it out on his pretty face. 
While you descend from the heaven Satoru sent you to, he continues giving kittenish pecks to your pulsing cunt. Experimental licks making your thighs squeeze more around his face. He looked absolutely fucked out, eyes hooded and face flushed a delicate pink.
As the heartbeat ringing in your ears subside, you register that goddamn Oggy & The Cockroaches ringtone in the distance again.
Half-consciously reaching a hand out to feel it for it, you already know who it is before you take a look at the phone screen. 
Naoya <3
The exasperation must show on your face, because Satoru reaches out a toned arm and silences your phone before setting it down - all while still nose-deep in your pussy. He pulls away, the absolute mess of spit and slick still connecting him to you and covering his devilish grin. It makes your cunt throb once more. 
“Couples therapy is too expensive anyway.”, he rolls his eyes. 
You spot the very obvious outline of Satoru’s cock straining against his trousers. He looked painfully hard. 
God, you needed him.
Reaching out an unsteady hand, “Let me-” you begin before you were interrupted by his hands tenderly intertwining with yours for the nth time this night. His soft lips press a gentle kiss to them. And despite the lewd acts you two had been doing not even a minute before, this is what makes your cheeks heat up the most.
“I want you so bad, you wouldn’t even believe. But trust me, where we’re going I can have you however I want. Properly.” his words strained, and going straight to your pussy. 
And it’s the last thing said before he pulls your skirt back down and opens the door, only carrying you carefully to his passenger seat. “Safety first.” Satoru chirps, as he pulls over your seatbelt before closing the door and making his way to the driver’s seat.
Was he coddling you?
The drive to Satoru’s place is slightly rushed, his impatience showing in the way his fingers drum against the steering wheel. 
Fingers that were in you. 
Your cheeks burn as you try not to look behind and see the mess that you surely left on his overpriced seats. Whether from the blasting AC or from the prospect of what was about to happen, goosebumps rise on your skin. 
They stay prominent as Satoru pulls into the extravagant driveway of the type of apartment complex that you’d sneer at on a normal day. 
You feel very out of place at the gaudy entrance without panties under your short skirt. 
Satoru hands his keys to the valet before steadily making his way to you, pulling you to him with a strong arm around your waist. “Told ya I got a lil’ place nearby.” he drawls into your ear.
“Nothing too little about this place. Compensating?” you tease, and watch his eyes crinkle as he laughs. 
“Well. You’ll find out soon enough.” 
The walk to the elevator is rushed, and you two have to fight to keep your hands to yourselves if you didn’t want to permanently scar the sweet old couple riding it alongside you. 
Finally. Finally you reach his floor,
Penthouse, you note.
“Couples therapy is expensive” my ass! Does this guy run a drug cartel or what?
Roughly pushing you against his door, Satoru’s lips are once again on yours. He firmly grinds his erection against your core, massaging your ass in the process. 
Ah, you don’t think he’s compensating. 
A deep moan leaves Satoru as he feels the clenching of your naked cunt against him. You yelp when he moves your legs to wrap around his waist, effectively lifting you off the ground as if you weigh nothing. 
One hand steadying you, he quickly punches in the code to his door.
Even as he enters and kicks the door closed, Satoru’s lips don’t leave yours. He blindly turns on a light before pulling back to admire you. You felt like you were losing your sanity, “You’re stupidly good at this, y’know.” you murmur, uncharacteristically somewhat shy. 
He chuckles, removing your shoes before setting you down. Yet, your feet touch his cold mahogany floors for only a split second before Satoru has you in a bridal carry. “Save your praises for the bedroom, doll.” he chuckles out.
It’s a short walk to his room - or maybe Satoru was rushing - but his lips are on you as soon as your back hits the soft navy sheets of his king-sized bed. Maybe if you were in a clear state of mind you’d better appreciate the beauty of Satoru’s sleek interior décor. But right now you were only focused on the open-mouthed kisses he was leaving on your covered breasts.
“I have a feeling you’ll like me a lot less if I rip this off.” he tugs on the hem of your shirt with his teeth. 
“Duh. And you really talk too much.” you huff out in impatience and quickly discard your top while Satoru pulls off your skirt. 
He pecks you, hand reaching behind to unclasp your bra and leave you completely bare to him. “Not fair that I’m the only one naked.” your voice tinged with embarrassment as you start unbuttoning his shirt while he teases and pulls at your hardened nipples. Satoru lets you manhandle him to your liking, and manhandle him you did. 
You flip your positions so that you are straddling him, overpriced white button-up now thrown across the room. 
Holy shit, he really is a gym rat.
You kiss your way down the white happy trail on his sculpted body, squeezing his pecs and licking long stripes up his prominent abs. “Hah- yes. Please.” Satoru’s moans sound heavily, and it spurs you to make quick work removing his belt. Rivaling your impatience, he hooks a thumb under his trousers and urgently discards it. 
Yeah, definitely not compensating. 
Satoru is long, and flushed a pretty pink that matches his cheeks. His weeping tip makes the prominent vein along his length glisten in the low light. So perfect.
Mouth salivating, Satoru watches you with predatory eyes as you lean closer and closer. “Bigger than your lil’ boyfriend, huh?” he hums cockily. You roll your eyes and shut him up by spitting right on his flushed head. You kiss it slowly, relishing in the low hiss drawn from him, 
“Hngh- F-fuck, doll”. Pumping his base slowly, you take his head into your mouth. Bobbing at a steady rhythm that has Satoru’s eyes rolling to the back of his head.
“Fuck. So fuckin’ good. Keep- keep going.” Satoru moans. You hum around him in a way that has his hips bucking into your mouth. You could tell - he wanted to push you down like a fucktoy and chase his high, but right now he was completely under your control.
Nails digging into his toned hips, you take his cock in further. “Yes yes yes yes. Jus’ like that.” he whines, one hand grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail and the other gripping onto the bed sheets. 
It was messy. Drool pooling at the corner of your mouth, you gag on Satoru’s length as you suck it. Suddenly, his grip on your hair has you pulling off of his cock with a pop. 
His hand moves to squish your wet lips together in a pout, “Can’t have me finish before the main course now, can we, doll?” his gravelly voice drawls. 
In a split-second, Satoru flips your position to hover over you. His hands groping and admiring every inch of skin he can see. Eventually, his fingers find their way back to your cunt, “Such a pretty pussy. All f’me.” he spreads your lips teasingly before plunging inside - two fingers easily finding the spot from before. 
Ever the multitasker, he sucks and teases your nipples, switching between the two to give them equal attention. You writhe, the pleasure from every point becoming too much. “Ah! Hngh- Satoru don’ stop” you moan out. 
He adds another finger at a relentless pace, “Satoru! S- Toru! Toru. I’m close.” your words slur together as Satoru’s name falls like a prayer from your mouth. You were still sensitive from before, so it wasn’t long before you were cumming all over Satoru’s fingers with a final mewl. 
But you two weren’t done - far from it. 
“Need you so bad, Toru.” you breathe out, half-lucidly. 
Proud smirk on his face, Satoru quickly fishes out a condom from his bedside drawer. Through the hazy aftermath of your second climax, you hear him mumble sweet reassurances to you as he rolls you over onto your stomach. 
A soft caress of his fingers at your pussy and you feel his head rubbing your folds. 
Worriedly you breathe out, “Toru- it won’t-”
“Shhh, doll. I’ll make it.” 
You whine in both pain and ecstasy as Satoru bullies his thick cock into your cunt. “Oh god. S’tight. So fucking tight.” he gasps out in pleasure, starting to move in shallow thrusts that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
His large hand pushes down on your back, making you arch into his cock, the other starts incessantly rubs desperate circles on your sensitive clit. A few tears stream down your face from the sheer overstimulation. But it felt good - so good. Your moans grow louder as the pleasure starts overtaking the pain.
“More, Toru.”
“Oh yeah?”
Satoru’s thrusts get deeper and deeper, until he finally buries his cock into you as deep as it could go. Throaty groans spilling out of his mouth, he leans over and bites you at the crook of your neck hard, still slamming into you at an intense tandem. You yelped at both the new angle and the bite which was sure to leave a lasting mark.
Now, Satoru has tolerated many types of people through clubbing, your bastard boyfriend wasn’t any different. It was when he showed a picture of you that things got interesting. 
Perfect. So perfect. You’d be better off with someone else than that smug lil’ gremlin. Like him…
And when he saw you tonight dancing like that.
Satoru had to have you.
“Bet he never fucked you like this.” His every word punctuated by a hard thrust. Shit, you didn’t even want to think about him right now. Your walls flutter around Satoru’s thick cock, throaty groans leaving him as his toned arm grabs the headboard for some stability. “Pussy fuckin’ sucking me in just right. Hah- so good.”
Feeling that very familiar coil in your abdomen, you mewl, “Toru- I’m gonna-”, face burying deeper into his luxurious bed. 
Suddenly, the friction you crave so badly halts as Satoru pulls out to flip you onto your back with a playful smack to your ass. “Fuck. Wanna look at your beautiful face as you cum.” he mutters into your ear. 
Leaning down to tug on your breasts, he looks at you with deceivingly innocent eyes as he keeps up his merciless cadence. Your arms reach around his muscled back to dig your nails into the unblemished skin. It felt so animalistic, the way his heavy balls were slapping your ass, stimulating you just right. Your hips buck up to meet Satoru’s, causing him to let out a strangled moan “Shit, doll. Pussy made jus’ for me. I’m so close.”
“M-me too.” his fingers start their abuse on your clit once more, “Hngh- Toru.” you whimper. Overstimulated and senses filled with only Satoru, you finally cum, riding it out on his deep thrusts. 
Tears stream down your face as you come for the 3rd time tonight. 
“Fuck- FUCK. Yeah, cum on my cock, doll. Jus’ like that.” he moans out as your pussy clenches down on him, finally tipping over the edge as well. 
You feel Satoru cum in hot spurts into the condom, rasping your name over and over as if it was the only word he knew. 
He collapses onto you, careful not to crush you with his full bodyweight. As you both come down from your highs, he quickly removes the condom and hugs your sweaty body closer to his. You feel more relaxed than you have in ages. Moves veiled in exhaustion, Satoru nuzzles your hickies as a lover would. 
So he was a cuddler.
Giggling at the contrast from before, you lay there in a blissed out silence almost has you falling asleep. You take the moment to appreciate just how pretty Satoru in his post-orgasmic euphoria was. Cloudy locks disheveled, and lips a wet, rosy pink. His cerulean eyes were barely keeping open as he gives innocent pecks to your lips.
The serenity is disrupted by a familiar, unpleasant cacophony of vibrations near the edge of the bed where your phone had been thrown. The fucked out little smile on Satoru’s face grows as he realizes who it is. “Gonna answer the phone, doll?” he rasps out.
You raise a brow, “Why? Wanna give him a show?” you tease, not expecting the hum of agreement from Satoru. “Why not? Show him jus’ how I fuck you right?” he cocks his head, challenging you. 
Your knee brushes up against his half-hard cock, causing a drawn-out hiss from him. His hips lightly rutting into you, you watch in satisfaction as tears spring to Satoru’s half-alert eyes. From pleasure or overstimulation? Probably both.
Well, the score was You - 1, Satoru - 3. 
Might as well try and catch up. 
Round two, you guess.
You snatch your phone before it topples off the now-untucked bedsheets. 
Naoya <3 is video calling…
Pinning Satoru down, you scoot down the bed and hand him your phone, which he gratefully takes with a mischievous smile. Positioning yourself in-between his strong legs, you gently kiss his twitching cock, now painted with spit and cum.
The delicate tears in his eyes now track down his flushed face. Satoru lets out a choked out whine, bucking his hips and smearing his cum all over your swollen lips. 
And he answers the call. 
“Where- WHAT THE FUCK???”
Happy anniversary, you jerk.
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A/N. I don’t condone cheating but c’mon it’s Gojo Satoru.
Plagiarism not authorized.
2K notes · View notes
quaintii · 11 months
Text
Across the Street
Pt.3
Pt.1, Pt2.
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synopsis: Miguel calls you in once more for babysitting. He has a day off from work and something inconvenient happens.
content: 18+ MDNI - babysitting, DILF miguel, fingering, m!receiving bj, praise and degrading, dirty talk, spiccyy overall.
A/N: thank you guys for the support!! Love u all 💞
extra: art is on Twitter by kimmy_arts0912
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Miguel woke up to the sound of his phone burring on the bedstand, clicking the stop button.
9:04 a.m.
He slowly rose off the bed, rubbing his temples and heading to the bathroom. He took his time getting himself ready, it was never easy for him since he would regularly work for long hours but today was a day off.
He took a shower, shaving off his stubble beard with a mirror glued on the bathroom wall. He got out with a towel wrapped around his waist and a small one on his wet hair.
Soon as he finished changing, he went downstairs to drink some black coffee and eat some peppered eggs with bacon.
As he scrolled through his work emails on his laptop, he saw Gabriella at the corner of his eye. She stepped off the stairs, approaching Miguel and hugging his legs.
"Como dormiste, mi changa?" (How'd you sleep, my girl?) He let out a hearty laugh, ruffling her messy brown curls. His focus was now on Gabriella, carrying her with one arm while his other hand pinched her swollen cheeks.
"Bien, papi!" She said as she swinged on his arm. Miguel smiled and lifted her back on the floor, reaching for the chair for his daughter. He placed two plates, a small stack of pancakes with strawberries, butter and syrup while the other was a bowl of fruit.
"Make sure to eat all of it, mija. It's bad to let things go to waste." He spoke as he washed the prior dishes from last night, making him vividly relive the memory of his fingers in you. He couldn't shake the thought of you, he kept spacing out on your touch.
He snapped back to reality when he peered his eyes to his phone ringing, his wife. Well almost his ex-wife, the divorce was still in date for court but they went their separate ways months ago.
He wrapped a towel around his hands, drying them and answered the phone. "Hello?"
"I'm picking up Gabriella later today around 6."
Miguel's brows furrowed together. "What do you mean?!? This whole week is my time to spend with her. I have a day off today and tomorrow." He snapped back at her.
"What's the reason for the sudden change?! Im allowed to spend time with my daughter too." He was fired up but whispered into the phone so Gabriella wouldn't hear.
"She just got home a couple days ago, que te pasa en la mente?!" Miguel spoke. She scoffed into the phone. "You're more in love with your work than our own daughter."
"Well I planned a trip for the both of us and I already have everything packed for her. Relax, you'll get her back in a couple days, bye!" As Miguel was about to yell at her, she hung up on the phone.
"Pinche pendeja.." he muttered softly on his lips.
He was furious but had to remain calm to not raise Gabriella's suspicion of why her dad was breathing so heavily and palming his face with his hands.
After a couple minutes pass, he sat next to Gabi watching a cartoon show to ease himself down. He would then urge Gabi to go brush her teeth and change into something else rather than her unicorn pajamas.
Miguel decided to take Gabi to a new toy shop that just opened. He was still pissed about the call earlier but the thought ended up leaving his mind as his focus was now on his daughter's happiness.
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5:04 p.m.
It'd been a day or two since what happened. Miguel hadn't sent you a message to babysit Gabi, until this afternoon.
"Hey, can you come over to babysit Gabriella? That is if you're not busy with anything."
"I'll be on my way in 5 minutes, Mr. O'Hara."
"Perfect..thank you. Again, Miguel is fine."
You felt so queasy about stepping in foot back to his house but so excited. You wore a summer dress due to the heat emitting from the sky. The afternoon would always be the hottest time of the day where you lived.
You face the mirror to fix the messy curls that sprung up due to the frizz. You apply some lip liner, finishing it off with a red tint gloss.
5:12 p.m.
You knock on the door, patiently waiting. You hear a click and the door finally opens, the sun shined on his caramelized skin. He look almost jaw dropping.. with a slicked back hair look. Loose black fit pants with a loose button up shirt. His eyes gave off a smile smile and invited you in.
You looked around to find Gabriella drawing at the table.
"Hi Gabi!" You squeal and wave at her as she rushes into a hug towards you. "Yay! You're back!" She was eager to see you. "What are you drawing? That looks great!" "I'm drawing a forest with fairies and unicorns!" Her high pitched voice rang in your ears.
You lean in closer to look at her drawing, acknowledging it. You give her a sweet smile, she returns it back.
You step back and walk to the cabinets to get a glass of juice. Your body jumped when you felt a hand rubbing in circles on your ass.
Miguel grazed his hands on your shoulder, whispering near your ear and dragging you further to the kitchen. Gabi's back facing the both of you two, you felt his hot breath fan you; shivers down your spine and to your core.
"How have you been, muñeca? Te ves muy...hermosa." He husked in a low tone. Your breathing slowed down, worried to even peep a sound. "I missed you..was worried you wouldn't come back." His rough hands rub the soft skin on your hips.
His tongue teased your neck, sucking and softly nibbling on it. "N-not here Miguel..your daughter.." You whispered, trying hard to restrain your small whimpers. He hummed in your ears, nibbling on it before detaching himself as soon as he heard a doorbell ring.
Luckily the kitchen had the blinds closed so whoever was outside, couldn't see.
He sighed and you quickly headed to open the door, facing a woman. She had on black sunglasses to block the sun in her eyes.
"You must be the new babysitter right?" She questioned as she placed her purse on the island countertop. "Yes! I was recently hired by Mr. O'Hara, Ms.." You waited for a response from her. "Mrs. O'Hara." She spoke, she reached to grab Gabriella by the waist; a suitcase near the table.
You had thought that he was divorced, you thought pretty quickly to it maybe they just haven't had gone to court yet to fix their situation.
"Mom? Where are we going?" Gabriella prods her head at Miguel and you. "We're going to Disneyland!!" She squeals as she hears the exciting news.
Miguel sighed and rolled his eyes, knowing that she never really gave attention to Gabriella, just spoiling and bribing her.
Gabriella was brought down back to her feet, hugging you and her dad by the leg, waving goodbyes.
You helped her out with packing some of her toys upstairs. When you both finished packing up some extra stuff, you head downstairs, slightly peering your head to see Miguel and his wife whisper about stuff. Miguel's chest heaved as his hands ran through his hair, frustrated.
Gabriella prods her head at what you're looking at and you quickly distract her by asking her something.
"Did you grab all of your toys, Gabi?" "I think so," she said as she rubbed her head and headed towards the door.
The lady drank some champagne from the glass, eyeing you up and down, questionable about you. You were never this nervous, but you worried if she had known.
She averted her gaze back to Gabi, holding her hand and the suitcase near Miguel. "Bye papi!" Gabi squeaked as the door behind her closed. Miguel waved non-stop til he couldn't see her anymore.
He laid his elbows on the countertop, tilting his head sideways back and forth. "Everything okay?" You walked up to him.
"Yeah.. um..it's just.." He hesitated to tell you. "Oh, don't worry! It's fine you don't have to tell me, Mr.-.. Miguel." He sighed angrily, "No no, it's just that..this week I was supposed to have Gabriella. She comes unannounced, not even a heads up that she would take Gabi with her."
As he vented more of his frustration, he felt relief by letting it all out. You were open eares with him, softly patting his shoulder blades to ease him.
"Wow..that's really messed up. Do you have custody of Gabriella, if you don't mind me asking." You spoke softly.
"Yeah, I do. We haven't had the court fully decide yet, it's coming up in a couple weeks. I just hate how she's nowhere fit for her to be actually caring for Gabriella." He sighed and took a big sip from the champagne bottle.
You hummed in return, heading to the snack closet for something to ease him up. "Want some snacks?" You asked. Miguel gets up and walks towards you.
You tip-toed to reach a cardboard box full of gummies, until you felt your body shivering to the touch of his hands around your waist later reaching your bra.
He wraps his arms around you, his touch becoming a bit more daring this time.
"You're very tempting. It's difficult to resist you right now..."
Miguel smiles at you and whispers his words. He then places his lips on yours again, his kiss passionate and eager. He wraps you as tight as he can, his hands roaming your hips.
"Oh, I would love something sweet. Don't you?" He murmured on your neck. His hands pushed your dress up, caressing your plush skin. "Mr. O'Hara-.."
You felt a sharp slap to your ass. "What did I say? Llámame Miguel.." (Call me Miguel)
He placed a hand on your chin to face him, kissing you softly. The second kiss seemed more like hunger.
"Get on your knees for me, cariño." He husked in a low tone, you obediently listen and laid your knees on the cold marble floor. He caressed your face once more, "Good girl.." The praises that came out his mouth made your cheeks heat up, your blood pumping to your pooling cunt.
Miguel's face lights up with pleasure, his eyes staring at you seductively as you kneel down in front of him. He watches your movement as you kneel, breathing slightly heavier. The way you look at Miguel also makes him feel good.
"Mm..."
Miguel's hand then reaches down and he grabs your head, making you look up at him.
"Open your mouth..."
Miguel moves his hand down to one of your shoulders, moving his thumb along your collarbone and then along your cleavage.
"Open wider, muñeca..."
Miguel's smile grows more and more as he sees you opening your mouth. You see his hand moving around your lips, just touching your face sensually here and there. Miguel's eyes never leave yours, and you find his stare to be both attractive and also exciting.
"Mm... Good.."
Miguel's eyes move down to your tongue and then back up to your face. He starts to whisper in your ear, his voice going slightly deeper.
"¿Como se siente esa boca, chiquilla?"
Miguel's breath slows, clearly aroused. He stuck in two fingers into your mouth and you hollowed your cheeks softly as you sucked on them for a bit. He went deeper, making you gag continuously, he took his fingers out licking them clean.
Your eyes landed on his bulge, palming it with your hands, rubbing it harder each time, pulling groans out of Miguel.
You begin to remove his pants by unzipping it and pulling down his boxers, his hard cock slapping his abdomen. The red brownish head was practically fuming for your touch.
You part your lips, laying your tongue out and licking the pre-cum streaming down on his tip. You try fitting all of his cock in your throat but you can't so you stroke the rest of him.
His eyes drop down to your face, his eyebrows furrowed together, savouring the delicious feeling of your tongue around his cock. You bobbed your head faster when your throat relaxed, being able to take in more of him. You clench your inner thighs together to feel some relief on your swollen clit.
His breathing becomes shallow the more he becomes impatient. When you looked up at him with small teary eyed..
He loses it.
He needs and wants to feel more of you, he slammed his cock deeper down your throat. The squelching sounds and low groans of his voice made you whine but it was muttered by his cock in your mouth.
You dig your nails into his thighs to keep yourself steady, you feel like you've ran out of oxygen. But you couldn't care less.
"Puta madre..." He whispers.
The feeling of him driving you absolutely mad, his grip on your scalp tightening with every thrust he took. The aggression shocked you, but you couldn't move since he took complete control of your mouth.
His cock pressed harder into your throat, making you gag on and on while tears streamed down your face. Your flushed out face drew him to his final straw.
His hips snapping against your cheeks, the slapping sounds echoing. The feeling of your fingernails digging deep into his skin, your muffled moans clenching harder around his cock whenever you hollowed your cheeks, made him lose his control.
"F-fuck...you're so good...such a pretty little slut aren't you? So fucking good f'me baby..." He scowled.
You kept muffling mhm's as he would praise your touch on him. His hips began stuttering, his thrusts slowly becoming slower as his cock became more and more sensitive with every warm touch of your tongue around him.
He held both sides of your face in a firm but gentle grip, abusing your throat to catch his orgasm. "I'm c-coming..mhmmf..mierda..." He whined.
His massive body shook with his imploding orgasm, he shoved his cock to the back of your throat and shuddered as his cum was hot and sticky on your tongue.
The moment he pulled out, he angled my face to his, towering over my frame. "Swallow it f'me." He spoke bluntly.
Miguel removed your mouth off his cock, his erection still hard and pulsing. All he wanted right now was to be inside you but he had different plans for you. He was going to return the favor back to you now.
You let out a few coughs to catch your breath and swallowed just like he asked. Bittersweet taste left on your tongue.
"Eres tan buena y hermosa, ma." (You're so good and beautiful, ma)
"Llevantate, amor." He panted on your neck.
He grabbed you by the shoulders and lifted you up, resting your quivering ankles on his broad shoulders. His fingers stroking and prodding at the wet stain on your underwear, his cold touch setting you on fire.
"Let me touch your pretty pussy, amor. Déjame ver ese bello coño.." (Let me see that pretty pussy) He tore your underwear off, the cold air washing your cunt makes you shiver. He lightly slapped your folds to see your face contort and furrow.
Suddenly, his hot tongue flicked your wet folds, and heat swirled in your stomach, your clit throbbing. Your skin burned to his touch as he reached for your perked nipples, rubbing it with his hands and whenever he would pinch your nipples, you would jerk forward; making his nose hit your clit.
"M-more Miguel.." You begged, your cunt clenching around nothing left you feeling empty and so needy. Your fingers wrapping around his brown curls, gripping onto them dearly as his tongue lapped on your clit.
"You're doing such a good job f'me, mi amor. Keep moaning my name like that. Fuck.." He groaned into your cunt. He slid into another finger and the feeling was too much for you to handle.
"M-miguel.." Your pants filled with wanton and lust. Your body jerks forward as he slid a finger inside you, your eyes impossibly rolling back to the back of your head as you choked on your moans, mumbling his name as he continued to eat you out like a starved man.
"Mirame, corazon. Keep your eyes on me, yeah?"
You felt too much and too little all at once, it wasn't enough for you but you felt like you were about to get thrown off the edge as his fingers started pounding you deep inside your velvet walls. You kept twitching and trembling, your back arching off the wall as your body hopelessly writhed for him.
Your nerves began stuttering, going numb along with a knot starting to untie. Miguel wouldn't stop sucking on your folds, his nose nudging your clit. His eyes never left your face, he loved seeing how you responded to his touch.
You started feeling a fire pooling low in your abdomen, your heartbeat pulsing faster than before.
You started losing composure whatsoever, when he slid in another finger inside. He didn't stop lapping on your sopping cunt, your pussy clenching around his fingers made his cock ache for your walls to tighten around him.
"It's t-too much.. m-miguel please mhmgf..fuck!" You sobbed and wailed. Your tears wouldn't stop, his fingers plunging in deeper inside your swollen cunt.
"You can handle it, doll.. I know you can." His ears relished the wet squelching sounds and your sweet little moans. You tugged harder into his hair as you felt a wave crashing down, the dam broke which released a leg-shaking orgasm. Fire sprinted throughout your body, the feeling of it taking over your mind with nothing but his fingers and tongue on your cunt.
Your orgasm came in flooding in and electrified every nerve in your body. Your vision fading to black. Your throat welled with moans and mewls, as you kept blubbering incoherently.
Miguel devoured you without mercy, savoring your juices as it ran down his chin. He kept you steady by holding you tight on your hips as you wiggled non-stop, shaking and writhed under him.
You loved drowning in helplessness of the pleasure as it surrounded you by the waist, leaving you breathless, shaky, and light headed.
You became almost feverishly whimpering since Miguel would still suck on your clit, tenderly. He finally removed himself from your folds, smirking at you while caressing your flushed out face. "Te ves bella así, muñeca. Eres mia..que no?" (You look beautiful like that, doll. You're mine, right?) You nodded as your orgasm finally came to a stop. He rested your ankles back to the floor, holding you up by the waist so you wouldn't succumb to the floor.
Just when he was about to tease you with his cock slowly on your folds, you both hear a ding from the door. Keys ring through your ears and the door creaked open. Heels clacking on the hard floor echoing around the spacious house, heading upstairs. The both of you quickly start to dress up quickly, you knew exactly who this was.
"Miguel!! ¿¿Dónde estás?? Do you know where the monster high dolls are?!?" A woman voice yelled upstairs. Miguel gave you a quick peck on the lips and a wink.
"What is it this time?" Miguel's voice responded back to her. "Gabi forgot her stupid toys..anyways just tell me where they are. She won't stop crying and I need her to shut up."
Miguel refused to give into his emotions and snap back at her so he gave off a small response to her.
"They're in the hidden basket under her bed, the lock is in the bedstand drawer." He answered, looking back at you tip toeing to the door.
You sent yourself off by going back home quietly and hurriedly.
Miguel was once again incredibly frustrated for the intrusion.
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A/N: it's 12:31 am rn, gonna have the best sleep ever. I finally finished it! Leave any feedback, always room for improvement, thank you guys!! (Sorry for the ending once more 😭😓, I promise to make part 4 hella dirty and long)
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Taglist: @thedevax @missussmorales @mxtokko @roronoaslover @livytofine @lolaiitip @luvstuffies @sweetirilly @avatricu @minnbinn @rqdior @migueloharasgirlfriend @t-sillay @brittney69 @honeycovered-bandaids @whatdudtheysay @tuskjohnny @spideys2cute @mushy-mushroom04 @yuki9912 @yumeeesss @noyasanify @ewan-tef @ilonasthing @lia-77 @migueloharaluhver @notsussybaka @woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction @usagijoestar @itzsab @gh0stcatss @ihateuguys @nyoxklo @xstormstriderx @bontensbabygirl @jroshtssn @realalpacorn @toecurlingstories @lunamoonbby @amberpanda99 @minihorizons @kathleenisdaraptor
4K notes · View notes
yawnderu · 7 months
Text
Mine — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
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Art by @ave661!
Synopsis: knowing he couldn't provide you with the life you wanted, Simon breaks things off with you. Two years later, you come back to base with a baby that isn't his.
Content: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, established relationships, breeding, erotic lactation, romantic love making, praising. No beta we die like Roach.
Ghost always knew his lifestyle would forever be considered out of the norm. A soldier who risks his life every single mission, a man who has built an entire plethora of enemies in multiple countries should never even bother settling down, yet why does it hurt to bad to see you come back to base with a baby that isn't his? It was his idea to break up— not wanting to destroy your dreams of wanting a family in a gated community, even when you reassured him living together as soldiers wouldn't be an issue at all.
"Say 'hi, Simon'." You tell the baby you're carrying, the tiny thing wearing a bear onesie is looking up at Simon, pure curiosity in her eyes. She simply babbles, short arms reaching out to touch his skull mask. To your surprise and to his heart break, he leans down so your daughter can play with the hard plate of the mask, not worried at all about her breaking it.
"She looks like you." He said with a choked voice, trying his best to sound calm. He doesn't even dare look at you, his gaze focused on the tiny girl you're holding.
"Dada!" She babbles out while touching his mask and Simon's eyes immediately go towards you, soul almost leaving his body in fear of seeing disgust on your face, yet all he sees is a bashful smile adorning your pretty features. He holds in his breath, eyebrows furrowed under the balaclava as he waits for your response.
"Astrid, that's—" You begin and she interrupts, one of her tiny hands barely being able to hold one of his big skull gloved fingers. "Dada!" She insists, louder this time. There's only 3 words the little girl can say including 'Dada', so you're not all that concerned about her seeing him that way.
"Sorry, she—" You get interrupted once again, this time by Simon.
"It's okay." If being delusional and pretending this tiny thing is his daughter helps him deal with the heartbreak making his chest hurt, he doesn't mind. The girl clings to Simon's neck and you lean closer, giving her a questioning look. She never liked being held by anyone but you, often crying whenever friends tried to hold her.
"This might sound strange, but..." His gaze shifted from you to the child, heart melting at the little girl holding onto the neck of his jacket for dear life.
"Can I hold her?" His voice was hoarse, hands almost shaking from all the emotions that hit him at once.
"Of course." Your warm smile reassured him, gently passing him the baby. He supported the back of her head with his hand, easily dwarfing her entire skull, yet being so delicate with his touch you could swear he thinks your daughter is made of glass.
Simon felt light headed as the little girl was slipped into his arms, fitting perfectly in his hands. His eyes lit up when he looked down and saw her soft, chubby fingers wrap around the chain of his dog tags, a small smile forming under the balaclava. He brought her close and cradled her, heart thundering in his chest at holding this lovely girl you created.
"Dada." She pointed at him with her finger, looking back at you as she squeezed his chain with her free hand. You could swear you saw one of his eyebrows lifting in amusement under the mask, the same cocky look you know too well.
"Maybe she wants me to be her daddy." He teased you, cradling the baby delicately in his strong arms, shielding her from any danger. He was instantly smitten the second he saw her, content to have your permission to hold her even after all you both went through.
"Don't be so smug about it, bastard." You playfully roll your eyes, leaning your head on his shoulder to give your little girl a kiss on the forehead, her hand holding onto your hair softly the same way you managed to teach her after one too many times of having your hair pulled by the tiny creature.
"Mama." She attempted to pet your hair the same you taught her how to pet a cat, albeit her tiny limbs moved much sloppier and with surprising strength.
"I think it's sweet." He said with a cheeky smirk, the pain in his chest going away more and more the longer he held your daughter. He was secretly hoping to get a reaction out of you after almost two years of not being able to tease you.
"You can tell her no all you want, but if she wants a dada, she's got one." As if to prove his point, he pointed with his eyes to the girl in his arms, the child reaching out towards Ghost with a giggle. His fingers tickled the baby gently, making her laugh even more. You look between Simon and the baby, a fond smile on your lips when you see just how easily they get along, the pupils in his brown eyes fully dilated as he looks down at her.
"Look at her." Ghost spoke softly, one of his skull gloved fingers running down the length of her short hair.
"She looks like an angel." He looked down at the child with nothing short of raw adoration, gaze drifting back to you, taking in the sweet moment of your body leaning against his while you both fawn over the infant. You hesitantly move away from his shoulder after a few seconds and he gives you a questioning side eye.
"I've got a meeting with Price, let me—" You reach out for your baby and he looks down at you, gaze softening.
"I can babysit for you." He offers with a hopeful look in his eyes. How can you deny anything to this man when he's holding your little girl as if he would die for her no questions asked? When those big brown eyes are looking down at you, the moisture in them clear as day? You nod your head, offering a warm smile as you give your baby one last kiss in the cheek, accidentally tickling her and making her giggle even more.
"There's a few baby bottles in the fridge, just run them over hot water for a few seconds until it's warm— but not too warm." He nods his head as you give him instructions on how to take care of the baby, listening intently. He doesn't have the heart to tell you he knows how to take care of a child— he babysat his former nephew many, many times before. He doesn't even realize he dissociated until you gently pat his shoulder, walking to Price's office.
"You and me, yeah?" He asks your baby who simply giggles in return, tiny hands going back to play with the hard plate of his skull mask.
The meeting took much longer than expected, catching up with Price and talking about your possible return to the 141. It isn't until three hours later that you go back to your quarters, heart in your throat when you turn on the lights.
Ghost is laying on your bed, civilian clothes on with a hoodie covering half of his upper face, your baby safely secured on his chest. You don't have the heart to wake them up, instead grabbing your phone and snapping a quick picture, making sure not a single feature of his face is seen for his own safety and privacy.
The change of lighting slowly wakes him up, offering you a tired smile before his eyes close again once he realizes it's just you. You take off your boots and turn off the light, sneaking into bed with your lovely baby and... your ex.
It feels too natural to even think much about it, one of his arms instantly wrapping around your shoulders to bring you closer, head resting on his chest along with the tiny offspring. He drifts off to sleep soundly with his two girls and for the first time in a long time, he's able to get a full night's sleep, not being woken up by his violent nightmares.
Weeks pass as Simon spends more and more time with you, your new contract signed the same day you had a meeting with Price, though he's not putting you on any missions yet until they figure out who will take care of your daughter while you're away. Today Gaz and Soap asked to take her out, claiming they wanted to buy some new clothes for her since she's growing up fast.
"Hey, big guy." You greet Simon, who seems to have relocated to your quarters for whatever reason— the man literally spends his whole time there and you don't even question it anymore, simply assuming he wanted to spend more time with your daughter. You know details here and there about his family, though he was never clear about the full story. You sit down next to him and he nods his head in acknowledgment, too busy looking at his phone.
"Can I buy her this?" He points his phone at you, showing you a website selling pajama pants for babies, the ones he's showing you are grey and have a skull pattern all over. You playfully roll your eyes, nodding your head before laying down next to him, head laying on his chest while you look at his phone, browsing the website together.
"You don't have to buy her things, you know?" You take a few seconds to admire his unmasked features iluminated by his phone—the soft jawline, thin pink lips, high nose and skin around his eyes that always seemed to be tainted with eye black no matter how well he washed it off.
"Telling me what to do, Sargeant?" He teased, raising an eyebrow at you and being an asshole jokingly just to make you laugh. It only earns him a slap on the arm, phone dropping right on his face. He turns his head slowly to look at you and you can recognize the look in his eyes— you try to run away but he holds you down, fingers already tickling your ribs as you laugh and struggle, trying your best to get out of his grasp to no avail.
"Pause." You kick and scream, laughter escaping your lips due to the tickles. As soon as you speak he stops, looking down at you with a tender look in his face. You gasp for air and he takes the chance to look down at your lips, so close, so inviting...
"I saw that." You tease and he jokingly pushes your head into the pillow, laying down next to you with an arm wrapped around your waist. You giggle at the remaining feeling of the tickles before laying back down on your side, hand absent-mindedly tracing patters on his defined, clothed stomach. You don't know when you both started becoming so close again, yet the comfort is always welcome in the turbulent life of a soldier.
"When's that lot coming back?" He looks down at you, longing mixed with curiosity. Truth to be told, he knows the boys will keep your baby safe, but he wants to have her right back where she belongs— in his arms.
"Like... two hours, I think. If they don't find anything too distracting. Don't worry, I made them take a jacket for her in case it gets cold." He would never tell you he was the one to put the baby jacket in the car because they all forgot.
"Good, good." He sighs, looking up at the ceiling, deep in thought. It's quiet for a few minutes, both of you finding comfort in the silence before he speaks again.
"Are you planning on having another one?" He asks curiously, gaze drifting down towards you, doing his best to hide the longing and hope in his tone.
"Maybe." You keep in simple, eyes staying closed as you trace patterns on the muscles of his stomach, feeling them flex involuntarily at your touch.
"Why? Interested on having a family with me now, Simon?" You tease, an eyebrow raised at him as you finally open your eyes. He seems to be thinking about it for a few seconds before hesitantly nodding.
"Bullshit." You sit up, looking down at him with a mix of confusion and hope.
"S' the truth." He plays it off casually as if he didn't confess being ready to do the same thing that broke both of you off two years ago. He pulls you back down to his chest, fingers gently massaging your scalp. You can hear his heart beat fast, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows the knot in his throat.
You stay quiet, unsure of what to say. It's too much all at once— knowing Simon actually wanted to settle down with you bringing a mix of anxiety and fear to both of you equally. He never had a normal family, and though deep down he was scared of being like his father, he already proved to himself he can be gentle and tender, the same way he is with your daughter.
His hand slowly drifted down from your waist to the curve of your ass, softly squeezing it while looking at you for any signs of hesitation. He finds none, and instead sees you leaning closer and closer until your lips crash, the passion of two lovers who never got over one another present in the kiss.
Clothes are discharged all over the room with no care at all, the quarter walls bouncing off with a mix of your moans and his low groans, a pillow under your hips while he fucked into your cunt, slow and deep thrusts making the tip of his fat cock slam into your willing cervix.
"Gonna look so fucking pretty with my kid." He whispers into your ear, breathy groans leaving his lips as his thrusts slow down, making love to you rather than just fucking you for a quick nut. One of his hands cups your cheek, forcing you to look up at him.
"Tell me. Tell me how pretty you'll be all swollen with my baby." You hesitate and he kisses your lips gently, gaze tender while he looks down at you, thrusts hitting deeper and deeper each time as he waits for you to speak.
"I'll look... so pretty—fuck— with your child." You manage to speak out between whiny moans, the way he's looking at you with pure love and adoration is all you need to confirm he does find you attractive. Truth to be told, it's difficult being confident after glint through something that permanently alters your body, yet he's looking at you like you're even more beautiful than before. In his eyes, you are.
"That's a good girl." He praises, hips rutting faster against yours as he drove himself deeper and deeper into your cunt, the nasty squelching sound every time he goes hits it hard making this even more exciting. He holds himself up with his elbows, large hands cupping your tits while he pops one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking on it like a starved man finding shelter.
"These tits are gonna be so big too." He murmurs, swallowing the milk coming out of your tits with no hesitation. His hand gets busy with your other nipple, gently pulling and squeezing the sensitive bud, not minding the milk squirting all over. It's too good to be true— your body changing so much to keep your baby healthy and soon enough, it'll change for his baby too.
"So fuckin' perfect, baby." He praises, eyes closing as he focuses on how good your wet walls are wrapping around his unprotected cock, tongue swirling around your nipple before he latches onto it again, drinking the sweet milk coming out.
"This cock's all yours." He lets go of your nipple, face seeking shelter on the crook of your neck as his thrusts get sloppier by the second, embarrassingly nasty words coming out of his lips like prayer. You're the only one allowed to ever see him like this, to have him in any possibly way. He doesn't even care how he's promising you the world, offering all of himself to you without having any doubts.
"Everyone's gonna know you're mine, love." He whispers into your ear, voice hoarse and full emotion, hips stuttering before he buries himself all the way into your cunt, cum splurging out directly into your willing, fertile womb. He keeps himself inside, caging you in with his strong arms into a protective embrace, wanting to make sure not a single drop of cum is wasted.
"All mine."
2K notes · View notes
bluesidez · 2 months
Text
GymRat!Miguel Part 3
content warning: small food mentions, a little suggestive at parts so MINORS BEWARE, sexual tension?? 😗, insecure thoughts about a plus size body (may or may not be triggering for some), a few mean girls, college party, alcohol, drugs, mentions of throw up like once, a bad look for sororities (sorry, y'all are probably very wonderful people)
word count: 3.2k (NOT A DRABBLE WTF 😭) not proofread, if you see a mistake lmk
GymRat!Miguel's workout playlist is here! I had to stop myself from adding more songs because it’s already so long lol. I didn't even include any cool down songs.
Prev | Next ✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist
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GymRat!Miguel who wakes up without having to hobble to the bathroom for once. No morning wood because his dream of you was soft this time. You two were cuddled up on a couch with the world’s most fluffy blanket. He smiles to himself as he drags his feet to the bathroom. It was if dancing clouds and bubbles were floating around his head.
GymRat!Miguel who’s able to sit and chat with Ms. Beatrice longer today because his class doesn’t start until that after noon. He compliments her on the egg sandwich from the other day and she squeezes his cheeks when she thanks him as if he were a baby.
GymRat!Miguel who tinkers in the engineering building as he waits for lunch. He joined the small but mighty robotics team as soon as he found out there was one. There was a fighting robot division, and he needed to figure out the problems with his team’s robot sooner rather than later.
GymRat!Miguel who spots you at the student center having your lunch. He wastes no time to grab his food and book it to your table. He calls your name before he gets there, not wanting to startle you. You smile when you look up surprised to see him there.
"Can I join you?" he says, trying not to seem out of breath with how fast his heart is beating.
"Yeah," you say, arranging your things around. You push your computer to the side as he places his burito bowl on the table. "I'm finally getting to see you outside of lab."
In his mind, he takes a note of you being in the student center at this time. He wants to make eating with you a routine thing.
"What were you watching?" he asks, trying to curb the rush that your presence has on him. He opened up his bowl and started to mix his food, waiting patiently for your answer.
"This is a little embarrassing but," you pause to dump one of your nuggets in sauce. "I was watching someone explain the downfall of Chuck E. Cheese." Your voice gets softer as you finish your sentence, eyes avoiding his gaze.
You were so cute. And it's almost as if you've never met him, the ultimate nerd.
"Nothing wrong with wanting to know why more and more locations went from five animatronics to one. Or how they started to sell their pizzas under ghost kitchens," he says, taking a bite from his bowl.
You looked at him and your smile grew. Miguel could only think 'there she is. there's my girl.'
The two of you chatted about everything from malfunctioning Chuck E's to your classes to your food. Miguel was through the roof.
GymRat!Miguel who offers to carry your art portfolio case for you to the art building. Anything to extend your time together. Plus, why should you have to hold it when he's here? He holds the doors for you and presses the elevator buttons before you can even think to.
GymRat!Miguel who really loves when the elevator door closes and he can look down at as you talk away. Just for those few seconds, the outside world is quiet and it's just you two. In another world, he'd kiss you before the doors open. In another world, he'd tilt your head up and have you look at him when you speak, he wanted to read your eyes too.
You're staring at him expectantly, eyes reminding him of baby deers. He tilts his head at you, wondering why you're staring at him.
"Miguel the door is open. We have to leave before it closes," you say.
He's instantly broke back to reality.
"Right! Sorry," he says, heat rising on the back of his neck. He steps out and holds his hand in front of the opening so that the door doesn't close you.
"Thank you," you say, a giggle under your breath.
Miguel has done some pretty embarrassing things when it comes to you, but he didn't think it would bleed into when he was actually in front of you.
In this world, he needed to not give you the creeps. Get it together.
GymRat!Miguel who is ecstatic that you still want to come work out with him. You all plan to meet that Friday. You don't know what you want to work out, but you say you're excited. Miguel has tonight, Wednesday, and Thursday to plan the perfect workout for you.
Should he go buy a bottle so he can make you a smoothie? Or should he offer to buy you a smoothie afterwards? Do you even like smoothies? Maybe he should invite you to breakfast. Would you want to eat right after you worked out? You needed to eat to make sure you can speed up the healing process though....
GymRat!Miguel who waves you goodbye when it's almost time for your studio class to start, mind filled with so many questions.
Your friend turns to you immediately when Miguel is gone.
"And who was that?" she says, eyes shocked.
"He's a guy from my lab. His name is Miguel," you say, grinning in your hands. You felt like kicking your feet in the air, but alas, no time.
"He's super hot. Like, seriously," your friend says, moving her taboret next to her workspace. "I would hit it. Constantly."
"Please stop talking," you say, laughing along. "I'm not even sure if he goes for girls like me. I'd rather not get my hopes up." You wanted to keep yourself in reality and falling for Miguel might put you too close to the land of delusion. You figured that Miguel was just super nice, especially after you two worked so hard for that lab project.
Your friend stops and looks at you, she slams the liquin tin on the table and puts her hand on her hip.
"First of all, those "types of guys" love big girls, so don't give me that. Second of all, are you not seeing how he looks at you. He's giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes, like, ever." She picks the liquin tin back up and starts scooping aggressively at the sides. "You gotta be more confident! You're gorgeous, anyone with a functioning brain can see that."
You stand there stunned, shocked at your friend's outburst. "I am confident!" Partially true. "I just...don't want to be hurt."
"I understand that, but have you even asked if he likes you or not?"
You shake your head no.
"Exactly. The night is still young," your friend says, pointing her palette knife at you. "And if you don't go for it, I will."
"Oh my god, shut up," you say, throwing a crumbled shop towel at her. You still kept her words in the back of your mind, storing it for later.
GymRat!Miguel who paces in front of the campus gym, waiting for your arrival. He got up extra early and gave himself a pep talk in the mirror. It wasn't a date, per se, but he felt that it could lead to one if he played his cards right. He decided to just invite you out to eat, figuring you would bring your stickered-water bottle.
GymRat!Miguel who spots you before you even call his name. He waves, smile taking over his features. You wave back, and it isn't until you're ten steps away that he finally takes in your full outfit. Another two-piece that was going to be the death of him, the only thing was that this was in the flesh. He cursed under his breath before you got closer, brain short-circuiting at the fabric hugging your skin.
"Ready to go?" he asks, forcing himself to not look at your body and to look at your face.
"Yeah! I'm a little nervous but I'm ready to work," you say, following him to the door.
He opens the doors for you, "Nothing to be nervous about. You're in good hands."
He brings you to his locker so you can put your bag in there, not wanting anyone to snag your belongings.
You guys start at the track, walking a lap as a warm up. Usually Miguel would do a lap or two of jogging, and as much as he wanted to watch you bounce, especially on him, this was a beginner workout. He didn't want to scare you with how intense he can get. While walking, you guys chatted about little things. Miguel tells you how wasn't nearly this big four years ago, ensuring you that the path to get here can be hard. You tell him that you just want be healthy, not caring if you lost weight or gained muscle. Miguel was secretly happy to hear this because he liked your body the way it was, but he would roll with whatever you were feeling.
GymRat!Miguel who helps you stretch. You both sit on the floor and face each other with your feet touching. Miguel saw how much smaller your feet were compared to his and his heart fluttered. His mind was filled with a million voices rambling off new things about you.
"She's focusing so hard"
"How can a gym outfit be so hot"
"She's so close to me when we do this stretch"
"Her hands are so warm"
"Maybe I should have stretched her from behind too"
That last thought gets Miguel to move you guys to the next part of the routine. How is his head always in the gutter?
GymRat!Miguel who starts you off with dumbbells, giving you the 5 lb weights to start. He starts you off with a few shoulder and arm exercises, giving you tips and praise along the way. His touches linger on your arms as he corrects your form, watching your body intensely. His constant "good"s, "one more''s, and "uh huh"s hit you right in your core. You're thankful that you're out of breath and heated from the workout, otherwise you would have melted before him.
GymRat!Miguel who pulls out all of the stops, using the heavier weights for his sets. He screams on the inside when you cheer him on. You clap at the end of one of his harder sets, happy that he pushed himself. He bows in silly way, sweat dripping down his face and laughing at your actions.
GymRat!Miguel who spots you while you use a heavier weight to do squats. You wanted to go for the 15 lb weight even though it was your first time doing weighted squats. He didn't want you to fall over, so he stood behind you and held his hands in the air by your waist as you went down. He knew that he was supposed to be focused, but he couldn't help but to glance at your ass a few times. God.
GymRat!Miguel who ends off your workout with the bikes, you guys making it a small competition. He stands and cycles, watching as your jaw dropped. You started to stand but got a little scared and gave up quick. Miguel couldn't have that. He stopped moving and got up to be by your side.
"You got it! Don't be scared," he says, watching you work.
"I literally can't do that," you say, cycling a little faster.
"Sure you can! Try it, I'm right here," he says, encouraging you.
You fight your fear and stand up and cycle. "Oh my god," you say, breaths coming out hard.
"That's it, that's it," Miguel says, voice warm as he praises you. "You're doing so good. Keep going."
You push until you can't anymore, Miguel cheering at your side.
GymRat!Miguel who guides you to the showers after your workout. It sucks that he can't be in there with you. His imagination can only get him so far.
GymRat!Miguel who waits for you to come out of the bathroom, ready to ask you to go for smoothies and breakfast. He hopes you say yes.
GymRat!Miguel who is in awe again at how you look. How many two-piece sets did you have? How does he survive them every single time? He mutters up the courage to ask you if you wanted to go get smoothies, adding on that he would pay. You glow and say yes, stating that you love smoothies. He's soaring.
GymRat!Miguel who brings your food to the table, two wraps and two smoothies. A protein shake for him and a fruit smoothie for you.
"That was a really good workout today. You definitely put me to work," you say, unwrapping the straw to stab it through the top. You hum at the flavor as you take a sip.
"Good?" Miguel asks, and you nod your head with your thumb up. "I'm glad you liked the workout. I was excited to have a partner."
"A partner? Why didn't you invite us to join?"
You both look up to see a few girls standing by the checkout counter. Miguel notices them as the sorority girls from his literature class. They walk over to your table, eyes twinkling as they take in Miguel.
Miguel chuckles awkwardly, not knowing what to say. He didn't think he had to deal with them outside of class too.
One of the girls look at you and goes, "Oo are you a personal trainer?"
You're taken aback, eyes scanning between the girls. You're about to open your mouth to respond but Miguel gets to them first.
"No, we're workout partners," he says, snapping at the girl. "And we're kind of having a conversation right now so is there anything else that you guys want to say?"
The girl cowers a bit at Miguel's words, laughing as if he told a joke and twirling her hair. The leader of the pack turns to Miguel, "Sorry about that. We wanted to see if you could come to our party tomorrow night. It'll be super fun and we would love to see you there."
A party? Miguel hadn't gone to one since he moved on campus. He always wanted to experience a college one. He turned to you and saw that you just tapped at your phone, not looking to the girls.
"I'll go if I can bring her," Miguel says, tapping his foot against yours. You look up, shock in your eyes,
Some of the girls slump, and the leader tightens her smile, "Fine! That's cool. I'll send you the details later."
The girls walk off and you stare at them, eyes squinting.
"They're an interesting bunch aren't they?" you say, continuing to eat your wrap.
"Right?" Miguel says, turning back to you.
GymRat!Miguel who comes to your dorm, ready to walk you to the party. He knocks on your door, a little nervous. He had on a nice top, the top open a little bit and a thin chain around his neck. After a while, you opened the door and gobsmacked him again with your outfit.
"Wow," he says, standing in the door like an idiot.
"Is it bad?" you ask, body glowing.
"No, you look amazing," Miguel says. "Ready to go?" He holds his arm out, softly smiling at you.
You nod and intertwine your arm through his.
GymRat!Miguel who takes in the atmosphere, frat guys yelling by a pool table, a few girls dancing with red solo cups, some people making out on the couch.
For Miguel, it was a lot.
He turned to you, yelling to ask if you wanted a drink. You say yes and you both make your way to the kitchen.
There, you both are met with the sorority girls crowding the kitchen. Some of them are passing some pills around and others are chatting by the island. One of them looks up and sees you guys lingering by the entrance.
"Miguel! You made it! Come on have a drink," she pulls him closer in the room. "Want a xannie?"
"I'm good," he says, handing you a cup of Pink Whitney. You take a sip and turn your nose a little bit. You might have to suck it up to get through the night.
"I'm so glad you made it. I have something that I've been meaning to show you," she says, batting her eyes. She convinces him to follow her up the stairs.
Miguel yells over his shoulder that he'll be right back.
You stand in the kitchen, fingers tapping against your cup. You felt a little silly and out of place. You didn't know anyone else here and the people were cliquey.
You joined a few games of beer pong, trying to enjoy yourself, but you couldn't help but to think about Miguel.
You dance a little, joining some random girls in the middle of the room. The music is ok, but you were just trying to have a good time. After an hour or so, you get nervous. Miguel hasn't been back in a while.
You head back to the kitchen, thinking maybe he could be in there.
"If you're looking for Miguel, he's probably deep in a bed right now," one girl giggles as she comes up beside you, grabbing another drink.
"What?" you say, eyebrows furrowed.
"Yeah girl, why else would he be gone so long? I tried to go up there and the doors were locked. Just text him tomorrow."
Your hand grips your cup tighter, watching as the girl goes back into the thick of the crowd.
You decide to wait a little longer, scrolling on the same three apps back to back for another hour. You look at the time again and the 3 am stares back at you mockingly.
You figure that he's really not coming back down and open your Instagram to give him a text.
“Hey Miguel! I’m gonna go ahead and go back to my dorm. It's getting pretty late."
You walk back to your dorm, arms wrapped around yourself to brace from the cold.
GymRat!Miguel who finally makes it to a bathroom that's not occupied with some one hovering over the toilet. He feels out of it. Throwing back a few too many shots. He was trying to get back downstairs but there was always someone there to pull him back, offering something.
A shot? Sure.
A pill? No.
A game? Maybe.
The girl who brought him up there tried her best to get in his pants, but if he was being honest, he didn't even remember her name. Or any of the names of the girls that came in afterwards. He declined every one of them, just wanting to get some air.
He was able to check his phone.
3:35 am.
He sees your message and feels sick. He runs downstairs and out the door, the cool air sobering him up a bit.
"Fuck," he says hands to his head. He squats and texts you back.
"I am so sorry. I got caught up. Did you make it back safely?"
It was so late, there was no way you would respond. He fucked up.
He texted Gabriel, maybe his drunk mind pushing him to seek help from his little brother.
"So if I invite a girl to a party and leave her what are the chances that she will text me back? :((("
"Dude. It's almost 4am. And where is this so-called game that you have? Ik you're not asking me about anything"
"Gabri :(((("
"I'll be honest, she's probably blocking your number. IF she even has it lol"
Yeah. He fucked up.
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dividers by: @yeribbon 🩵
a/n: Miguel's gym playlist is such a jarring difference from my own gym playlist. 😭 I left you guys with an extra long addition today because I have soooo much hw that's piling up and it's tearing me apart.
As always, leave a like and reblog. Leave comments please. 🥺 I want to see your reactions! Let me know how you feel. 🩵
taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting @flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02 @jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies @samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu @urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe
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jellyfiishatr · 1 year
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Being friends with them!!
a/n : just some friendly hang out sessions with the great spider four >_<★!!
☆☆☆
Characters : Miles Morales / Gwen Stacy / Pavitr Prabhakar / Hobie Brown
content : headcanon / fluff / platonic / pure silliness
☆☆☆
Miles Morales!! (Small Ganke mention!!)
☆ study sessions with these two ofcourse
☆ ^and by study sessions I mean Miles is doing work and Ganke's been done and has been playing videos games since you came over to their dorm
☆ Miles asks for help with English, and you ask for help with whatever you're missing
☆ if not study sesh, then definitely out and about spray painting a new wall
☆ ^I can imagine late night talks with him after he's finished a piece are very heart to heart, he loves to speak his mind to you and hopes you do aswell
☆ I can imagine you meeting his parents are a little nerve wracking since he's mentioned that they didn't like ganke or Gwen
☆ so you tried to be as respectful and kind to them as you possibly could (probably also kissing up to them idk I would too)
☆ if you also do art, you guys compare drawings and give eachother advice on what you need to work on
☆ ^definitely the type to steal your notes and draw in them during class
☆ ^will also steal said notes for a week and forger he has them till your banging on his door in the middle of the night before your assignments due and those notes are very much important to you
Gwen stacy!!
☆ it took a long time for her to actually consider you a friend, a lot of the time you just stayed following her and talking
☆ ^anything you said in those few months prior to her considering you a friend, went through one ear and out the other
☆ She's definitely a teaser, making fun of you in a friendly manner
☆ movie night, or weekly sleepovers at one another's house is a must with her
☆ ^she says she's into horror/action but is really into romcoms, she won't admit that outloud though
☆ I feel like she's really bad at cooking so teaching her how better her cooking skills has definitely happened once or twice
☆ ^she loves when you make her lunches, she usually buys you lunch for the next two days in return
☆ when she's playing the drums you usually sit right outside her window with headphones because she's likes to have her room shut off
☆ ^but she still wants to hang out so she makes you wait outside for about an hour till she's done and has you back inside for dinner
Pavitr Prabhakar!!
☆ Study sessions pt2!
☆ he's a straight A, top of the class student. He doesn't really need to do homework because he does it in class
☆ he does help you with yours though, especially if you're failing
☆ early morning walks, he's an early bird and makes you walk with him because "It's good for the mind!"
☆ if you're not an earlybird, you're grumbling the entire walk about how it's a "weekend" and how "you do this everyday pavitr" and how "you need to stop making me do this"
☆ he doesn't understand whatever you're trying to say and pushes you lightly the rest of the walk (that last part definitelywasnt written by pavitr, no definitely not)
☆ he loves to rant about his girlfriend, talking about how they sneaked out and went on a late night walk that week
☆ if you have an s/o you're definitely talking about them with pavitr, telling him all about them
☆ he's definitely a dog person, he always has a dog following him no matter what
☆ you guys are walking to school? There's a dog right behind you. Hanging out at his house? There's a dog right outside his bedroom window. LITERALLY IN SCHOOL?? A DOG HAS WALKED IN DURING THE MIDDLE OF CLASS AND SAT DOWN NEXT TO HIM WHILE THE TEACHER WAS AWAY
☆ ^everyone think he just has some sort of dog treats on him always but it's really from just recognizing his face from him always feeding them, such a sweetheart
Hobie Brown!!
☆ draws on your hand a lot
☆ ^you always have faded sharpie on you no matter what because of him
☆ you tease him for his accent constantly, saying "pip pip cheerio," or "ello luv." In the most horrible accent ever
☆ You have to go to protests or big government events with him, whether you're political or not he's dragging you along
☆ Always has little trinkets for you everytime you hang out
☆ hang outs in an abandoned building are a daily thing
☆ ^he's probably made you carry a big couch for him to put in a new hang out spot because he said he "knew a place."
☆ he did infact know a place
☆ the playlist guy, he's the one with fire songs to hype everyone up at rallies/protests
☆ knows how to design, outfits, or banners whatever. He knows how to do it right
☆ you'll always have heart to heart conversations with him, early in the morning, mid-day, or late at night
☆ if you ever bring up the topic, "you think we're friends in another universe?" He just looks at you and nods (I've mentioned this before in my hobie hcs)
☆☆☆
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mochiwrites · 3 months
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couldn’t help writing a lil thing from @plumadot’s arts (linked here and here!)🥺👉👈 third life scarian possessed me so hard I broke out of my burn out for this reblogs would be really cool and awesome okaythankyou
——————————
“And how are preparations for Doom Day going, my good sir?” Scar’s voice is a light sound behind him, tone cheerful and inquisitive all at once.
Grian turns around from where he’s knee deep in sand, a small hole dug out in front of him. Scar comes to stand beside him, red eyes staring down at him. His gaze is soft, far too soft for a man who’s meant to be anything but.
With a soft noise, Grian pushes himself up to stand while dusting off his hands. He leaves his shovel in the ground by the hole. His wings flutter.
He hums, surveying the area. He gazes at the holes of sand, where the tnt will be set down, at the place where a bunker will be built. “Not bad, I’d say. I think this place’ll be ready by tomorrow or some time ‘round then.”
Scar whistles, moving to casually wrap an arm around the green life’s shoulders. “Amayzin’!” His lips lift in a smile. “Man, those Dogwarts guys won’t know what hit ‘em!”
“That’s if this trap even works, Scar,” Grian mutters, unable to hold back the bitterness in his voice. His traps have hardly worked all game, and he’d be lying if he said he isn’t worried about this one failing too. “It has to,” he says, brows knitting together, “there’s too much riding on this one.”
His eyes trail over to Scar, who doesn’t seem to share his worries.
“Aw, c’mon G,” Scar starts as he pulls the other toward him. He tugs so that Grian’s facing him, their faces a few inches apart. Grian can feel how warm Scar is this close, can see the way his chest rises and falls. “I have total trust in you and your trapping skills. So relax a little, yeah?”
Grian frowns at him in turn. Speculation and trust aren’t good enough when up against his fail rate. He needs one hundred percent certainty. But he can’t just test this one. It’s a one time pull. “Scar—”
Careful fingers grab his chin, rough and calloused from the harsh conditions of the desert but still far too careful. Red names aren’t supposed to be careful or gentle, and yet here Scar is.
“I trust you,” Scar says again, and Grian doesn’t think this is how things are supposed to go. It’s not the first time he’s had this thought, and he’s sure it won’t be the last (provided they both survive this, that is). “You really do worry too much.”
“One of us has to while you’re off gallivanting around without a shirt on,” Grian grumbles while reaching for the edge of Scar’s cloak. He holds onto it, fingers digging into the fabric.
Scar lifts a playful brow at Grian’s comment, “Does that mean I look good while valligaggling?”
Grian snorts, the action laced with too much affection. “That’s not even a word, Scar,” he replies with a little laugh, one that makes Scar’s grin widen.
“It’s close enough,” the man hums in answer, their faces moving closer. His hand drops to Grian’s elbow, the other drawing him in closer by the waist. Red eyes flutter shut as his breath ghosts over Grian’s lips. “And it made you laugh.”
“Your priorities are seriously mixed up,” Grian’s voice is hardly above a whisper as watches as Scar draws in closer.
Their lips meet seconds later, chapped and warm. Grian stares at Scar’s face, the way the creases in his forehead smooth over and relax. He looks so content, a funny feeling to express when the powder keg is seconds from exploding.
It hardly takes any time at all for Scar to deepen the kiss, raising his hand from Grian’s elbow to hold the edge of his jaw. His thumb settles too close to Grian’s throat, yet not an ounce of fear runs through him. His eyes shut as he presses his lips back against Scar’s, a bit more pressure than the other applies. He catches Scar’s wrist in his hand, and his grip is a little tight at first (too tight for a green name). He has to remind himself to loosen his hand, but Scar never gives a reaction.
He simply angles Grian’s chin up slightly, hand shifting to cup his cheek. His fingers tangle in his hair, brushing against his ear.
It’s kind of a shame they’re blowing up the desert. He wouldn’t mind sharing more kisses with Scar out in the open chilly air like this.
Scar kisses him like he’s something fragile, something precious. He kisses him like he’s afraid of breaking him, and really it’s laughable how gentle he is with Grian. His eyes say he shouldn’t be.
(Ironic then, that Grian is wearing more red than him.)
It’s with a soft sigh that Scar pulls back, setting their foreheads against one another. So easily, so fluidly, he holds Grian’s face in both of his hands, one of his thumbs brushing along his cheek. There’s a fond smile on his face, and Grian feels a little dazed by the sight.
“Gri,” Scar says quietly, a moment shared for only the two of them, “I need you to know, I—”
Some kind of alarm rings in Grian’s head, and he knows he cannot let Scar finish that sentence. Panic runs down his spine like electricity, zapping him. He sets his hands on Scar’s front, gently pushing back as he turns his head away.
“H-Haha, we’ve wasted enough time, haven’t we?” he questions, some kind of desperate attempt to change the conversation. “We have a war to prepare for, remember?”
He doesn’t watch Scar’s face as he turns away, unable to face it. He turns his back to Scar, wings twitching behind him. Grian purposefully looks down at the sand before him, reminding himself of what he’s meant to be doing. “We, uh, have much to do still,” he says, trying to focus on anything but Scar. “I mean, unless you want me to lose my first life!”
Grian goes to say more, but two hands land on his shoulders, stopping him. He jumps just slightly, startled. Yet it doesn’t last long as he feels Scar’s warmth against his back. “…Scar,” he mumbles.
Arms wrap around him proper, holding him close. He feels Scar bury his face in his hair as the smell of lilacs and poppies flood his senses. “Just a little longer, okay?” the red name murmurs so softly.
Let me hold you for a little longer.
Stay with me for a little longer.
Pretend this’ll last for a little longer.
How selfish, Scar is. Grian looks down at the sand below, its mocking grains. He grabs hold of Scar, keeping him right where he is. “…I’m not going to die, Scar.”
“Promise me.” Scar’s arms tighten around him, giving away how much he needs Grian to stay alive. How much he treasures Grian, both his partnership and company.
Grian squeezes him. He supposes he’s a little selfish as well. “…I promise.”
Scar lets out a shaky breath, burying his face further into Grian’s hair.
They don’t move for a little while. A gentle red name and a green name clothed in far too much crimson. Together they stand, selfishly.
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arminsumi · 9 months
Text
Breakfast fluff
G. Satoru — さとる
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NOTE : pls ignore errors i have neither slept nor proofread this 👍 i'm just craving breakfast so bad rn which is funny considering i hate cooking breakfast lol
SUMMARY — waking up to Gojo making breakfast and fussing over the kids on a typical Sunday
CONTENT — domestic fluff, just a wholesome morning with hubby Gojo
🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)
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It's a very early morning. The sunlight through the sheer curtains is soft. You take your time getting out of bed, soaking up the enjoyable softness of the blankets and pillows. Though you're quick to miss the warmth that you usually wake up to. Blinking awake and going into the bathroom, Satoru hears the soft thumping of your footsteps down the hallway and smiles to himself.
Satoru's not usually an early riser, in fact he usually stays in bed with you and locks an arm around your waist when you try to leave. But it's a Sunday morning, and Sunday mornings were special. Because it became a tradition to go down to the bustling market, clutching the week's savings in his hand, and buy thick bacon and eggs. The freshest kind.
You and Satoru were living in a bare bones apartment with sparse money, as two young "parents" with three tots under your wings. Somehow, you two made it work, even though there were struggles you smiled through them and never strayed from each other's sides. He'd often work the night shift, and come home at ungodly hours so tired that he melted into your body like a sick child, aching for your affectionate touch.
While you lazily carry out your morning routine in the other room, the kids crowd around Satoru as he stands in the kitchen — trying desperately to balance the chaos of entertaining Yuji, Nobara and Megumi while simultaneously cooking up breakfast.
And he cooks breakfast with such meticulousness. He considers it an art form. There's a remarkable swiftness in the way that he wields a kitchen knife to cut the bacon block into strips, and a talent in the way he cracks open eggs with one hand.
" Nobara, Yuji, what are you yelling about ? "
A little voice whined, " Nobara bit me ! "
" Nobara, don't bite Yuji. " Satoru lectured softly, eyes focused on the food cooking in the pan.
" I only did it because he tried to take your sweeties out of the pantry, dad ! " she reasoned.
" Don't eat my sweeties Yuji, you can have some later today — smell this ? Daddy's cooking up yummy breakfast so don't spoil your appetite, okay. You're gonna love it. "
The bacon and eggs crackle and pop in the oiled pan, sometimes so loudly that it makes Megumi jump in fright.
" Gumi, don't stand too close to the skillet. " Satoru warns, placing a hand on his head of messy bed hair and ruffling it, causing it to look even more unruly.
A steamy breakfast aroma wafts down the hallway and satisfyingly fills your lungs. You can hear the four of them chattering and Satoru's interspersed mini-lectures.
You look at them from the doorframe, Yuji and Nobara run out the other way into the interleading sitting room.
" Who's that peering 'round the corner ? " Satoru playfully teases, his voice bringing you warmth.
" Maaa. " Megumi groans and trots over to you, giving you as big of a hug as his little body could manage.
You comb your fingers through his hair, fixing up the mess that Satoru's previous ruffling caused — as usual.
And he flashes a look behind him at you, winking like a cheeky flirt. His smile is so big because of how purely happy the sight of you makes him; especially with that bleary-eyed morning face. You look so cozy, it makes his heart lurch to see you wearing his oversized t-shirt.
" Hey ! You didn't give me a morning hug ! " Satoru pouts and complains to his son.
Megumi groans. With a small encouragement from you, he quickly dives in for a rushed and almost shy hug. His arms wrap around Satoru's legs. And like the menace your husband is, he ruffles Megumi's hair to ruin again — making the boy groan annoyedly and break the hug.
" Ugh, daaad stop. Mom just fixed my hair. " Megumi grimaced, promptly running away when Satoru smiled down at him evilly — because that smile was the one he made before going in for tickles. And tickles from Satoru? They were devastating, truly.
So little footsteps thump out of the kitchen and the two loud voices that have been sounding from the sitting room become three loud voices. You notice how Megumi's accent takes after Satoru's rather than yours, and it warms your heart.
You approach the stressed, apron-clad chef and immediately he turns around to engulf you in an energetic kiss and embrace.
" You're burning the bacon, dad. " you giggle, face squishing into his torso.
" NOOO — shitshitshit. " he mutters under his breath, lips tingling from that tasty kiss he just snatched off your lips.
" Language, 'Toru. " you murmur at him, arms wrapping around his slim waist. You give him butterflies and then he loses all composure, causing a burnt disaster in the pan. The eggs are crusted brown, the bacon is glitterring as it sizzles a deep color.
Automatically, you go around the kitchen collecting and preparing plates and cutlery for the meal. The clang and clash of plastic reminds you that today is a big deal; you and Satoru were going to go out and use the rest of your weekly savings on new kitchenware.
Stopping for a moment to amire the attractive view of your husband's physique from behind, while he rather chaotically shovels the cooked contents of the pan out onto the serving plate that you slide next to him.
" Ah the bacon is saved. . . " he breathes in relief.
The sizzling food finds its home on plates. Satoru steals a quick kiss.
And then another. And another and another until the two of you zone out for a moment and feel like you're just two teenagers again, stealing lovey dovey kisses on your way to morning classes, of course his lips always caused you to be you late to everything back then.
But before you and Satoru can completely intertwine like lovers, there's the common interrruption of Yuji's wailing coming from the sitting room. You and your husband exchange those parental sighs and smiles, before you head into the other room to fix the little commotion. Poor Yuji complains to you through teary eyes that Nobara bit him "for being annoying" and Megumi is just wandering back into the kitchen to help his dad serve up breakfast without him even needing to be asked. He was just a sweet boy like that.
And it's a good meal. One that hits all the spots. You wish you could have more, even though Satoru did put from his plate onto yours throughout the meal. It's a caring habit of his that you never realize until after you've devoured everything. You pay him thanks with a tasty kiss, and he smiles into it like he always does.
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bambikisss · 4 months
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To make an album: K. HongJoong
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(Bambi's ver!) Producer bf HJ X Famous singer reader
'To make an album, you need three things: a studio, a mic, and a damn good producer'
📙: You have been on the rise since your debut album almost 4 years ago. Now, your millions of fans are demanding a full album from you and the company is on you about finishing it before the deadline, giving you one big choice: who will produce your album?
⚠ : Unprotected sex (always wrap it up and keep it safe), Mentions of past poor producers, Sex in the studio, Multiple rounds, recording sex, car sex, use of handcuffs (reader), L bomb, use of mirror, Spanking, HJ calls reader names (baby girl, slut, puppy, baby), Slight Dumbification, slight degradation, pussy obsessed HJ, basically smut with barely plot, Producer HJ (whole warning)
🎶: Mushroom Chocolate - Quin ft 6lack, Lil Freak - Usher, Take Me -Miso, Gorilla - Bruno Mars
Bambi's notes: SO what happened was that I got carried away because producer HJ is a version of him I will NEVER get over lol. Smut with semi plot, not really.
TAGLIST: @teez-the-time @yawnzshit @sugarnspice630 @sarah-55213 @certifiedmoa @scarfac3 @woohwababes @doritochoi @wisejudgedragonhairdo @yourfatherlucifer
ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY | REBLOGS + COMMENTS APPRECIATED | buy me a coffee?
'Y/N L/N is set to release her long awaited full album in two months. Fans have been waiting for a full album from her since her debut almost 4 years ago. What kind of sound do you think she'll go for? Please let us know via social media at-'
"Alexa, turn this off." You ran your hands through your hair as you walked through your large apartment, your feet padding against the floor as you entered the kitchen. It was far too early to hear anyone talk about you, even if it was positive.
You raised to the tips of your toes as you grabbed your coffee bag from the cabinet, the dim morning light lighting the kitchen for you as you began to make your morning coffee. You had a long day in the studio ahead of you and knew you couldn't get by without any sort of caffeine.
You were at the top of your career after debuting 4 years ago. You had gained millions of fans and had put out award-winning singles and mini-albums. You even went on a sold-out tour a couple of months back.
However, while you were more than content with your singles and mini-albums, your fans had been getting vocal about wanting a full album from you, just like when you first came onto the music scene. You had put it off for as long as you could, not finding the process of making the full album interesting enough to hold your full attention. Plus, the producer who produced your debut album was an asshole, which made you unwilling to make another one. But, the company was now placing their foots down, not releasing any more of your music until you presented them with a full album.
You jumped lightly as you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back to rest against his chest. You relaxed at the feeling of his lips pressed against your cheek, a small hum leaving his lips as you rubbed his arms. You tilted your head back to admire the man who held you close, his dark brown hair still a mess from sleep. His eyes scanned your face as if you were a piece of art, the corners of his lips curling up as you smiled back at him. It felt like such a sweet moment between you and him, forgetting all about your problems.
"Did you make enough coffee for the two of us?" HongJoong's deep, sleep-laced voice made your smile grow as you loved how he sounded when he just woke up. You nodded, leaning forward to check the pot before turning around in his arms to face him. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he placed a sweet kiss onto your forehead, his hands resting on your hips as he did so. "Good. How's the last 4 tracks of your album coming along?"
You frowned as he mentioned your album, placing a kiss on his lips as you tried to shut him up about it. It was bad enough that all the fans and the company were constantly asking you about it, you didn't want your boyfriend to ask you about it too, especially before your coffee.
HongJoong only chuckled at your attempt to silence him, pulling back to look down at you with knowing eyes. He knew you'd rather forget about it, but he wanted to help, especially since the company had their eyes on you. "Baby, you can't just kiss me whenever you want to shut me up, you know?" He laughed.
"I wasn't trying to shut you up, but I don't wanna talk about the album right now, baby." You smiled, moving to lean against the counter as HongJoong moved to grab you and him a mug for the coffee. He chuckled again, filling your mug with caffeine before sliding it over to you, a smile on his lips as he said "But we should talk about it, especially with that deadline you have coming up."
You took a sip of your coffee as he returned to stand in front of you, leaning against the opposite counter with a comforting smile. HongJoong knew about your past producer who treated you poorly when you were putting out your debut album. He had met you right afterward, so he understood when you didn't want anything to do with him unless it had to do with music. But, as time went on, you and him grew closer. Now you two had been dating for 2 years.
"Y/N, baby." HongJoong tilted his head to meet your gaze, offering you a comforting smile as he took a sip of his coffee before standing back up straight. Only when he is sure that he has your full attention does he ask "Did you find a producer yet?"
You hadn't. You had been writing and recording demos all by yourself, choosing to put off picking a producer till the very last second. You didn't know any other producers you trusted with a project like this. You shook your head, meeting your boyfriend's eyes over your coffee cup as you said "I'll probably just take whoever the company assigns to me to produce this."
To your surprise, HongJoong's eyes lit up at your words before he said "Well, let me produce it."
You narrowed your eyes over the mug of coffee at your boyfriend, trying to see what he meant by that. At your sharp and questioning gaze, he placed his mug down on the counter before saying "I'll produce your album." You and HongJoong had only worked on two other songs together, those two songs doing well on the charts and even winning awards. However, you wanted to keep your relationship and your music separate, but HongJoong wasn't having that. He placed his hands on your waist, a small pout on his lips as he asked "do you not have faith in me and my skills? I know what it takes to make a good album, you know."
"What do you need, HongJoong?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest as your boyfriend smirked, his hands moving to your thigh, his fingers playing with the edge of the large t-shirt you slipped on after your many rounds with him last night. His fingers slowly dragged up the sides of your thighs, small goosebumps being left in his wake as it moved underneath your shirt, cupping your ass as he spoke with confidence ''To make an album, you need three things: a studio, a mic, and a damn good producer''
You were no longer paying attention to his words, his lips grazing yours as he placed a small kiss onto the corners of your lips, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he pressed his chest against your folded arms. HongJoong lips dragged against your cheek to your ear, his hands moving up the small of your back as he spoke into your ear "plus, think of all the fun things we can do in the studio. I know you like riding me while I produce"
You bit your lip at the memory of you riding him in his studio while he tried to focus on producing: you had been missing him while on tour and was on break for a week when the company asked him to produce a song for Yunho. You had been begging him to just take an hour's break and come home to fuck you, but he was very insistent on finishing the song that night. He responded to your needy texts with a simple "If you want me that badly, you better come and get it."
"You were so wet for me, babe" You shivered as he placed a kiss onto your neck, his hands now moving back down to your ass, his finger dipping underneath the panty fabric to tease you before he whispered again "I remember that I had to cover your mouth while I bent you over my keyboard because you were so goddam loud, moaning and whining like a bitch in heat."
"HongJoong" you whispered, the desire in the air making you forget what the conversation was even about. You closed your eyes as your panties snapped back against you, his hands soon moving to grab the sides, teasing you by pulling them down slightly before snapping the fabric back against you. HongJoong smirked at the sight in front of him, his cock pressing against his thin boxers as he repeated his process a few more times till your hands were gripping the countertops. He had you right where he wanted you.
You closed your eyes as he leaned in close to your lips, hoping he would take mercy on you and just kiss you. You were soon filled with disappointment as his hands left your body, opening your eyes to see his proud orbs. He placed one of his hands underneath your jaw, making sure you kept your eyes on him as he said "just think about it, baby."
You sighed silently as he let go of your chin, grabbing his coffee cup before walking away to begin getting ready for his day. You took a deep breath, hoping to calm down as you looked outside your apartment windows. You pressed your legs together as you felt your wetness pool in your panties, your boyfriend's touch having lingering effects on you.
You thought about ambushing him while he showered, but your phone buzzed with a text from your manager, letting you know that she was on her way to pick you up and take you to the company so you could work on your album. You bit your lip, realizing that you had an hour to go get ready.
Today was going to be a long day.
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"No, he called me a bitch for not wanting too much autotune in my songs"
Your manager ran a hand through her hair as you denied another producer, sitting across from you in the meeting room at your company. She had a whole stack of worthy candidates to produce the album that you had worked with in the past, but you turned them all down. You had bad experiences with all of them that you didn't want to think about when you were working on an anticipated album.
Your manager called for a break so she could find another list of possible producers, sighing as you shot out of your seat and made your way to the doors. She called out to you before you could leave, a motherly look on her face as she said "Y/N, you have to let someone produce this album. You can't keep putting this off."
You nodded, walking out of the room silently. She was right, you couldn't keep putting it off, but you didn't want just anybody touching your tracks.
You ran your hands through your hair as you walked through the long hallway, looking for a practice room for you to record another song you had written. Maybe you could release an album full of demos?
Before you could enter the room, your eyes fell onto your boyfriend's studio down the hall. His door was covered in stickers that his visitors had placed there when they worked with him. The familiar feeling from this morning returned as you made your way to his studio, hoping to just get a glimpse of your boyfriend. You carefully opened his office to see him working on a track, his headphones snug on his head.
You smiled at the sight of your boyfriend producing, bouncing his head to the beat of the music while his fingers added to it. He was in his element and you found it incredibly sexy. You bit your lip as you closed the door behind you, making your way to him carefully as he continued to produce, not noticing you till you placed your hands onto his shoulders. His eyes glanced over at your manicured nails, smirking when he realized it was you.
He let your hands drag up his shoulders and neck, carefully taking off his headphones as he saved the track, knowing that he wouldn't be getting back to it for a while. He turned his chair around, looking up at you as you moved to his lap, both of you sighing as your warm, clothed pussy pressed against his clothed cock. He watched as you began to grind down against it, craving any sort of friction you could get. He gently grabbed your hips, helping you as he placed kisses along your neck.
"Did you think about what I said this morning?" He hummed against your neck, his tongue peaking out to lick your sweet spot, making you purr out "Hmm, what did you say this morning."
Your words were met with a bite from him, tsking as he pulled back to look at you, his hips meeting yours as you both ground against each other on his chair. "Don't tell me you didn't pay attention to me, baby. Or, were you distracted by something?" He played with you as he looked up at you, chuckling at your already fucked out looking state. He gently patted your cheek, licking his lips as he asked "Were you distracted, baby?"
At your nod, he let out a soft "aww," his voice laced with faux care as he unbuttoned your jeans, leaning down to place a kiss on your stomach as he looked up at you through his eyelashes. "I'm sorry baby, I'll make sure not to touch you when I'm talking to you"
You knew he wasn't really sorry, your hands running through his hair as his hands slid into the back of your jeans, pushing them down as much as he could. HongJoong loved it when you got distracted by his touch, loving the sight of you trying to remember what he was talking about while he picked you up from his lap, smirking at the wet patch that was on his own jeans.
"I was talking to you about me producing your album, baby," he said, unbuttoning his jeans as you took off your jeans and shirt, now standing before him in nothing but a thin thong and bra. You let out a playful "Oh? Were we really?" as you turned around, bending over as you pulled down your panties. You made a show out of it, smirking when you heard your boyfriend's breath hitch. You bit your lip as his hands made contact with your ass, his hands massaging the globes of your ass before he stood behind you, his cock slipping in between your thighs, making you moan softly.
"Yes, we were talking about me producing it. You need to learn to focus, babe." He hummed, pressing a kiss to the bottom of your neck while his hands moved up your sides slowly to your hair, his fingers making a ponytail out of your hair. Once he was satisfied, he kicked your legs apart further, making you lean forward to place your hands onto the couch he had in his studio as he spit down onto his cock, his spit coating the head of his thick cock before slowly pushing into you.
"Oooh, that's it baby" he groaned deeply, closing his eyes as your wet pussy welcomed him back in warmly. HongJoong couldn't get enough of your pussy, always wanting to be balls deep in you whenever he could be, even if you two of you weren't fucking. He swore he felt his brain turn off as he began to fuck you, his eyes shut tightly as fucked you. You gripped the couch as he fucked you, his cock stretching you out perfectly as you moaned into the couch. At the sound of your muffled moans, he pulled on your hair, tugging you so your back was arched, your head no longer on the couch as he drilled his cock into you.
You tried to keep quiet as he praised you through your moans, even lifting one of his legs to the couch so he could drill his cock deeper into you at an angle. He had you seeing stars in no time, panting out his name and moaning as he fucked you.
HongJoong soon pulled out of you, making you whine at the loss of his cock and back your ass up to where you thought he was. You were met with a hard spank to your ass, making you moan as your boyfriend dropped to his knees behind you, kissing your puffy pussy before whispering "hush baby, lemme taste you, then you can ride my cock till I fill you up."
You moaned at the thought, your moans only growing as HongJoong's tongue licked your pussy, flattening his tongue against you before sucking on your lips. You reached behind you to grab his hair, pulling him closer to your pussy as his hands gripped the flesh of your ass, spreading you for him to eat you.
One of the things you loved about him was how loud HongJoong got when he ate you out: you could vividly hear every time he sucked, licked, and spat back into your pussy. You bit your lip as he moaned lewdly into your pussy, his secret desires and your praises being moaned into your wet pussy, the vibrations making you shake. After one long lick, he pulled back, helping you to stand up (more like he held you while you leaned against his body) before leading you to his chair, sitting down on it before he pulled you down onto his lap.
You instantly knew what to do, sinking down on his cock with a pleasure-filled sigh. You began to grind down as his hands returned to your hips, guiding your hips to spell whatever he wanted. "You still haven't answered me, princess, come on." Your eyes snapped to meet his dark ones, your bottom lip quivering as you tried to remember what the hell he was talking about.
HongJoong tsked at your fuzzy memory, shaking his head before saying "I know you're in heat, baby, but you should at least be able to remember what I just said. Don't tell me my cock is stopping you from thinking." He leaned forward, biting your shaking bottom lip as he began to fuck up into you, pulling back as you moaned loudly, tossing your head back as he clicked his tongue. He suddenly stopped, smirking when you began to whine and try to move again, his grip on your hips tightening, warning you. "Look at me, baby, meet my eyes."
You did as you were told, his head falling back against the head of his chair as he opened his legs a little wider to make it more comfortable and to firmly plant his feet against the floor. "Tell me, baby, what were we talking about?"
Your brain once more short-circuited as his thumb began to rub small circles on your clit as your thought, your boyfriend's lips soon wrapping around your nipple as you stumbled out "You producing my album?"
"There we go, baby" HongJoong praised, helping you resume riding him as he fucked up into you. He watched as your face contorted to show pleasure, your head now tossed back as you eagerly rode his cock, making him moan. "That's my smart baby, huh? She may be a slut in heat, but she knows what's important, right?"
"Yes, yes" you moaned, HongJoong lips returning to your nipple with a soft "good girl." You let his words motivate you to move faster, no longer even registering that you were in his studio in the company with an album that was due soon. Nothing else mattered when he fucked you so well.
"Hmm, so what about what I said this morning, baby? Are you going to make the right decision and let me produce your album?" He hummed against your breasts as he moved faster, watching as you bounced faster to match him. He could tell you were about to cum and that he was getting close too, his own moans growing to match yours. It made him glad he soundproofed his studio that morning.
You nodded at his words, desperate to agree to whatever he wanted so you could cum, his lips crashing into yours as you both came. You held him close as you both kissed, your tongues locking in the kiss as you both ground against each other, both of your cum mixing and leaking out of you onto his cock, balls, and even a bit on the chair. Once you both had calmed down, you placed your head onto his shoulder as you took a deep breath, your eyes closed as HongJoong turned the chair around to face his setup, his hands running through your hair as he whispered "Whenever you're ready, baby, we can get started recording the tracks. We got an album to make."
Yes, the two of you did.
______________________________________________________________
"Looks like you found your main producer, huh?"
You smiled as you held your glass of champagne, turning to look at your boyfriend. HongJoong was across the party with his own glass of champagne, his custom-fitted dark purple velvet suit against his body while his freshly bleached hair was styled perfectly. He was talking to someone else, but with the feeling of your eyes on him, he suddenly made eye contact with him.
Throughout the whole album-producing process with him, you both had not been able to keep each other's hands off each other, fucking multiple times all around his studio.
"Yes, I did." Your eyes drank in the way HongJoong leaned against the wall, his eyes doing the same as walked around that night. HongJoong couldn't wait till the two of you got home, excited to rip off your short, dark purple dress that hugged your body perfectly. His eyes moved up your legs and thighs, his body heating up knowing what was between your thighs. He felt like he could pounce on you at any minute, not caring if everyone watched as he fucked you on the table. In fact, that was on his bucket list.
"Baby?" You turned around to see HongJoong now behind you, his lips still puffy from the make-out session you two had in the hallway 30 minutes ago. "I think it's time we go, Y/N. The party is winding down and I have another surprise for you at the apartment." A surprised "Oh really?" left your lips at his words, not expecting him to have a surprise for you waiting at the house. Before you could try and ask for hints, HongJoong's hand interlocked with yours, pulling you from the party. You tried your best to keep up with his fast walk as he walked outside, unlocking the car you and he shared before he opened the back door. You looked at it with confusion, HongJoong's only response being "Get in the backseat, baby. It'll all make sense later."
You sat in the backseat as he climbed in the front seat, the car ride silent as he sped home. You bit your lip as your eyes fell on your boyfriend's hands as they gripped the steering wheel, his veins popping out from how tightly he was holding it. Your eyes moved from his hands up his body, noticing how fast his chest was rising and falling. Your eyes soon looked into the rearview mirror, meeting HongJoong's hard gaze. You hadn't noticed that he was looking at you throughout the car ride, biting your lip as you spread your legs, giving the mirror and your boyfriend a perfect view of your soaked panties.
When HongJoong glanced into the mirror once again and saw your new position, he swore he almost pulled over right then and there. He smirked, glad to see that you were just as horny as he was for you. He reached back to touch your knee as his other hand stayed on the wheel. His eyes never left the road, but his voice let you know that he was still watching you.
"Why don't you run a pretty finger up your panties for me, baby? Tell me how wet you are for me" You did as you were told, dragging your fingers up your clothed pussy, shivering at how your panties stuck to you. "You're so wet, aren't you baby? Just a few more minutes, then we'll be back home. I'll take good care of you, I promise, just keep yourself wet for me."
You nodded, feeling a jolt of excitement rush through you at what was about to happen.
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"Joong, please" You closed your eyes as HongJoong ripped open the door to the car, his knees meeting the floor of the car in an instant at the sound of your voice. HongJoong has made you touch yourself over your panties constantly, not letting you give yourself any relief. He parked in a spot in the parking garage that was hidden from everyone else and from the security camera, making sure that no one could interrupt you two. He closed the doors behind him as he cooed at you, promising to ease your pussy's ache as he placed kisses along your inner thighs, moving closer to you.
He soon hooked his fingers into your ruined panties, tugging down the fabric. He had to pause when he saw a string of your arousal connect with the panties, making him look away to ensure that he didn't cum in his pants. He wanted you to have all of his cum, not wanting to waste a drop.
He finished removing your panties, placing the fabric into his pocket before he took in a shaky breath; it wasn't out of nerves, but to control himself. He spread your legs as wide as they could go, biting his lip at the view of your spread pussy. "Such a wet and naughty pussy. Did you want me as much as I wanted it, baby?" You nodded as he leaned in, licking a long, slow stripe up your pussy. Both of your loud moans mixed in the car as he repeated his motion, slurping up any more wetness that leaked from you with urgency.
HongJoong soon sped up, his licks moving faster as he pushed a finger into you, curling it as his tongue played with your clit. He loved watching how you rode his tongue and fingers when he ate you out, wanting more of him as he drowned in your pussy. He licked up his wrist, catching more juices before his tongue replaced his fingers, making your hands rush into his blonde hair, your back arching against the car seat as you came and squirted. HongJoong moaned loudly, cussing as he cleaned you up. You lay limp against the seat as he finally pulled back from your pussy, moving up the seat to stand in front of you.
"Talk to me, baby. Let me know you're still here with me" he cupped your face as he spoke, his thumbs rubbing along your cheeks as he waited for you to come down. When you finally nodded, he smiled before pressing a small kiss to your forehead. "There you are, baby. You came so much for me."
You smiled at his praise, reaching for his cock that was now pressing against his velvet pants, HongJoong's hand gently grasping your wrist to stop you. "Not right now, baby, not in here. Lemme move the car closer to the elevator and take you up to the apartment." You pouted as he got out of the car to move to the front seat, meeting your eyes in the mirror as he said "trust me, baby."
You trusted him as he moved the car to park in front of one of the elevators before helping you inside. When you both finally made it inside the apartment, you had to pause at the doorway.
The apartment was decorated with tons of flowers and heart balloons, led candles were lit all around the place. It looked so romantic. You turned to HongJoong as he locked the front door and removed his shoes, an obvious smile on his face as he walked past you. "Did you do all of this, Joong?" You followed him into the living room, smiling as he finally faced you with a smile on his face. "Of course I did. My girlfriend put out an album despite not choosing me two weeks before it was due" You rolled your eyes playfully as he pulled you close to him, smiling as he placed a kiss on your cheek. "But, I did this to show how proud of you I am, Y/N. I mean that."
You smiled as he kissed you again, the kiss this time sweet as you cupped the back of his neck as he began to lead you down the hallway, stumbling with you into walls. When you both finally reached the bedroom, the kiss had intensified to the point where your tongues were caressing each other. HongJoong pressed you roughly against the door, his hands moving around your body before he ripped down the front of your dress, shoving his face in between your tits as he picked you up. You moaned his name as he carried you to the bed, laying you down on it with ease before he pulled back, standing up.
For the first time that evening, you saw HongJoong's desire in his eyes fully. He looked at you as he began to unbutton his suit, commanding you to watch when you tried to move closer. His eyes drunk in your sprawled-out body on the bed before he removed his jacket, making his way into the closet that was adjacent to the bed. You kicked your heels off as you watched HongJoong toss the velvet jacket onto the floor carelessly before he roughly separated some hanging clothes. He leaned into the clearing he made before he took out a dark blue box that was covered in stickers and had a ribbon on it.
That dark blue box was your and HongJoong's sex box. HongJoong called it 'Joong's box', a play on Pandora's box. Inside the box contained anything either one of you had bought to use during sex, having decorated the box so if anyone saw it, they wouldn't think anything of it.
When HongJoong turned to exit the closet, the two of you made eye contact for a brief moment, and you felt your body shiver. He looked so far gone, not even recognizing the depth of desire he had for you. He gently removed the ribbon as he approached the bed, his thumb flicking off the top of the box as he stood in front of you. He smirked as he looked through the box, picking what he wanted to use on you tonight before he placed the box down onto the nightstand.
He moved you to your knees, allowing your hands to run up and down the fabric of his pants before you began to unbutton his pants, eager to get a taste of him as he fiddled with the box. As you pushed his pants down his thighs, your eyes zeroed in on his cock as HongJoong soon pulled out something from the box, placing them on the bed before he moved to grab the box top. You took the opportunity while he put the box back to see what he took out, moaning softly at what he picked out.
Sitting on the bed next to you was a black cannon camera and a pair of fuzzy red handcuffs. You bit your lip as he returned, picking up the camera to inspect it. "I think there's enough memory in here for tonight, don't you baby? I mean, we are celebrating."
You watched as he positioned the camera on the nightstand to get the perfect angle of you and him before pressing record, leaning down to give you also a sweet kiss. His lips gently rolled with yours as he kissed you, taking all the air from your lungs as he held the back of your neck, keeping you in the kiss. His hands slowly moved down the back of your dress, dragging the zipper down with him as he did so. "Are you going to be good tonight, Y/N? Say it loud enough for the camera to hear, baby girl."
"I'll be good for you, HongJoong. I'll always be good for you" you moaned as he bit your bottom lip, a proud smirk on his lips as he pulled back. "Of course you'll be good for me, baby. That's all a dumb puppy in heat like you wants, huh? Just my cock pleasing you?" HongJoong watched as you nodded, pushing down his boxers with a proud smile lacing his lips.
"Yeah? Come get your cock then, baby. I know you've been craving it since we got home." You rushed to give his cock a few pumps as your tongue dragged along his tip, gathering his precum on your tongue as he leaned over to grab the camera, holding it in one hand as another hand went into your hair, pushing you down onto his cock. You and HongJoong closed your eyes as you began to bob your head, your hand pumping what you couldn't take as he tossed his head back, offering you praise through his moans. When you couldn't meet his eyes, you looked into the camera, doing whatever it took to hear him curse and moan your name.
HongJoong tossed his forward, forcing himself to watch as you bobbed your head on his cock. He then leaned over to place the camera back on the nightstand before the hand that was in your hair pulled you off his cock, some of your saliva mixed with his precum dropping from your lips as he tilted your head back. He smirked at the sight before leaning beside you, grabbing the handcuffs while you pressed kisses to the side of his face, desperate for him.
"Place your hands behind you, baby." You did as you were told, looking up at him as he handcuffed your hands behind you, stopping you from being able to feel him. You whined softly, about to complain when you felt a sharp sting on your ass, the spank echoing in the room as HongJoong hissed "Shut it."
You nodded as he eased you down on the bed so your head was hanging off the edge while the rest of your body rested on the bed, his hands moving to knee your breasts as he positioned his cock at your mouth. "You shouldn't need your hands to take my cock baby. No, baby girl, you're a pro." He moaned as he pushed into your mouth, gripping your breasts as he began to fuck your throat. You gurgled around his cock as he used your mouth, your hands gripping the sheets as he continued to speak.
"No, my baby is a slut. My baby knows how to take some cock, especially when it's mine. You even made a whole song about sex with me, didn't you?" HongJoong asked, his voice now deeper than usual as he pulled out of your mouth, looking down at you with dark eyes.
Near the end of producing your album, you had chosen to get inspiration from your many nights in the studio with your boyfriend and write a bonus track. When HongJoong heard it, he fucked you all around the studio in one night. To say HongJoong liked it was an understatement.
You nodded as he turned you over onto your stomach, cupping your jaw as he fed his cock into your mouth, resuming his rough pace as he moaned. "Wrote a whole song surrounding getting me cock, didn't you, baby? Fuck, and when everyone hears it, they're going to wonder who you're singing about, not knowing that you were on your producer's cock while you sang about riding it."
You couldn't help but moan louder at his words, grinding down against the bed for comfort. With the sight of you grinding against the bed, your moans, and his own words working him up, HongJoong pulled out to cum all over your lips and chin with a loud moan of your name. You gently licked your lips as HongJoong calmed down, his still hard cock pressing against his stomach as he finally opened his eyes to look at you. He smiled at the sight before his thumb moved along your lips, cleaning you off before he grabbed a towel, wiping off your face fully.
HongJoong uncuffed you before he got on the bed next to you, his hands helping you move to your back as he slowly pushed into you. You whined, wrapping your legs around his waist as he leaned down to place his elbows onto either side of your head as he met your eyes. His eyes we not as dark as before, but softer as he slowly moved his hips. His hands soon intertwined with yours as he began to rock his hips to meet yours, placing small kisses around your face. "I know you're tired baby, just one more for me, ok? God, you're so perfect."
"One more" you purred against his lips, making him moan at your true fucked out state. He nodded, moaning against your lips "yeah, one more for me, baby. Fuck, I love you."
You felt your heart swell at his words, whispering that you loved him too as you both got lost in each other. HongJoong pressed his forehead against yours as he moved, pressing small kisses to your nose whenever he could before he moved to stuff his face into your neck. He felt his body heat up as he felt his climax approached, his breath now short as he let out a broken moan of your name as if he was calling out to you.
"Y/N...baby, I'm so close for you, I love you so goddam much" he moaned, moving to see your face as he moved faster, wanting to watch you fall apart. "Say my name, baby. Say my name while you cum for me. Let everyone know who you love"
"HongJoong," Your eyes rolled back as you came, your name leaving HongJoong's lips as he came with you, his hands slipping from yours to hold your face in a deep kiss as he shook. You wrapped your arms around him as you both rolled over onto your sides, the kiss slowing down to simple pecks. You both panted against each other's lips, holding each other as you both slowly came down.
HongJoong was the first one to move, standing up to go grab a towel before returning to you with shaky legs, both of you laughing when he fell onto the bed. He gently cleaned you up, whispering more praises to you and your pussy before he pulled you to his chest, rubbing your sides.
"So, you love me, huh?" Your question made your boyfriend of two years blush before turning away, making your smile grow. You moved to place your hands onto his shoulder, making him face you once more before you said "I love you, HongJoong. I wrote a whole damn album about you, so don't be the one getting embarrassed"
Your words made HongJoong smile and laugh, nodding before pulling your back down into his embrace, smiling at you snuggle into him. "How do you think your album is doing on the charts right now?" He asked, grunting as he stood up with you in his arms, carrying you to the bathroom. You hummed against his shoulder, shrugging as he placed you on the toilet before going to turn on the shower.
HongJoong handed you your phone as he went into the bedroom, letting you check while he gathered shower stuff. When he returned, you had a bright smile on your face. "Number one everywhere and trending. Everyone is complimenting me and the producer."
Your words make your boyfriend laugh, placing the towels, lotion, and clothes onto the bathroom sink before he aimed the black camera to face the shower, making you smirk. "Why'd you bring the camera in here, baby?"
HongJoong smirked as he helped you to your feet, walking back into the shower with you as he said "I'm help you get inspiration for your next album. That's what a good producer does, baby. And, you're lucky, because you have one of the best helping you. Now, make sure you're loud enough for the camera baby, this all might be useful for another secret track."
Bambikisss | 2024
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felmonth · 7 months
Text
(Edited and slightly better developed! Will be updated until further notice)
Hey, neighbors! I am alive! XD
AAAAH! I finally managed to finish Tom's sheet, but for Au "Actors," the author of this AU is @frillsand. I've been wanting to create drawings related to this AU for a while now, and there are still comics that I want to share.
Wally won my heart -cries- 😭💘, of course, haha. I'll be sharing with you all the comics that come to mind regarding this AU.
WARNING: Before proceeding, this may contain sensitive content, you have been warned. I hope you enjoy the extended blog and the extra mini-comic to lighten the mood.
Well without anything else to say about it...let's start with Tom Unlucky, the stylist!!
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Tom Actor's Story:
In a town called "Titirilquén," Thompson (Tom) Lucky grew up alongside his mother and brother Jack Lucky. They depended on each other for everything. They didn't own a television, but they would find TVs on in stores where mostly there were news and interviews with celebrities. Both of them dreamed of becoming actors inspired by the experiences shared by those celebrities on television. Their school further fueled their interests, as it offered a theater subject and a variety of art-related courses.
At school, Jack exhibited a captivating personality in his school theater performances, earning admiration from everyone. However, Jack felt uncomfortable because nobody paid attention to his brother, who was also improving with each performance and costume. Therefore, Jack decided to involve his brother in everything to make him stand out just like himself...
Over time, the school grants Jack a special scholarship that involves working in one of the largest studios in Titirilquen despite being very young. This news greatly delights Jack, so he mentions it to his brother about this opportunity to become what they wanted to be at that time. Unfortunately, those who gave Jack the opportunity were very disappointed when he brought Tom to work with him, so they reluctantly accepted Tom only because Jack requested it.
When Jack was not around Tom, they assigned him different tasks than what an actor should do, completely deviating from the agenda that Tom had planned for the week. This led him to become overloaded with tasks, but he didn't complain because he thought it had to happen when living the life of an actor.
Jack and Tom were the first young actors in the Titirilquén studio. They initially performed in a few presentations for a museum, and then the director decided to create a program with them. Both did their best until they became somewhat more known thanks to the news in their town, and Tom was no longer as ignored as when he first joined. They reached a broader audience, leading them to want to learn more about the people in their town. So, they started learning sign language and refining their voices for musical sections to begin a small program aimed at families.
Both were directed by the same assistant, "Ron," but due to unforeseen circumstances, he had to retire because he had to move to another country for another job opportunity where he could earn more money to support his family. They had a new assistant, a woman named "Cherry," and from this moment, problems arose. The new assistant was serious and easily stressed when the director had to tell her what to do. As a result, she left the job of directing to the two young actors.
This assistant was starting to have too many problems with the brothers, she envied that both brothers mentioned the previous assistant's actions. However, they did not say this with bad intentions but rather so that he could do his job well, since the director was demanding regarding what should be on the schedule of both brothers. Over time, the work environment between them improved, but something was missing in the assistant's life, the brothers did not say many things to her or chat with her, but instead spoke only among themselves.
One day, Cherry overheard a conversation between the two brothers about the previous assistant. Cherry misinterpreted this as a threat to her job and felt worthless to both brothers. He decided to come up with a plan with his fellow students. The plan was to put one of the brothers in a problematic situation so that she could do something to help them and get recognition for it because according to her, the brothers did not value her.
The chosen target was Tom, as Cherry considered him weak and incapable. After finishing his singing section of the show, Tom left the studio to take a break and have a drink.
He noticed that his co-workers near a restaurant were calling him to chat, Tom without noticing any suspicion in them, approached them with great joy, because he admired what his co-workers were doing in the studio.
And being recognized and starting a conversation by them was a great joy for Tom, since he always lived underestimated as just a simple doll who cannot stand out among humans.
Unfortunately, there were ulterior motives. While they were talking to Tom normally, they took him behind the studio, which looked like an alley, and there a cruel scare developed. These coworkers mentioned negative things when they entered the alley and Tom felt uncomfortable by his coworkers' sudden mood swings. He tried to back away, but was easily caught. While saying negative things, they gradually destroyed parts of his body, including arms, legs, wrists, and fingers. They showed no concern for the little puppet's screams and fear because, to them, he was just a doll that couldn't feel pain, or so they claimed, they made fun of him for being too dramatic when he screamed.
When this situation came to an end, the group of companions left, leaving him alone, Tom remained on the ground, crying without understanding how the situation took such a sudden turn. Just a few moments ago everything was fine and now he was helpless on the ground, motionless. He could only see the cotton sticking out of his body and his limbs outside his body, he could only move his head at the moment, he felt completely useless. He prayed that his brother would find him and help him, but then Cherry appeared, pretending to be worried about Tom. She helped him in this terrible situation and took him to the emergency tailoring service.
Now, with Tom recovered, he was mentally depressed and shattered. He looked at his stitched-up body and felt very insecure about venturing into the streets inhabited by humans. He didn't want to go through a similar situation again, so his only support rested on Cherry.
Tom was immensely grateful to her for helping him in this terrible and stressful situation. After a few long minutes of silence, he told his assistant that he didn't want to continue his acting career. This surprised Cherry, but she said nothing and just listened, offering ideas. She felt quite good about helping Tom in these moments of stress. She informed the director about this decision, and of course, he was very concerned and saddened, especially when Tom requested not to inform his brother.
When Tom was discharged on the same day as the accident, he didn't want to go home because a thought crossed his mind: he had always depended on his brother and was only causing him problems. So, with a heavy heart, he decided to distance himself from his brother. The assistant supported all of Tom's ideas, including the idea of complete separation. She was happy that Tom depended on her, so she found him a job outside the country without consulting him.
From Jack's perspective, after the accident, he found it strange that his brother didn't appear on the show. He asked the director why there were sudden changes in the program and why his brother wasn't there. The director decided to be tough with him, saying they hired him and not his brother. He gave Jack new rules for the new direction of the show. Jack was devastated by this news. He considered quitting his job but thought better of it; he wanted to see his brother at home.
When he arrived home, there were no traces of his brother or his belongings. He tried calling him, but there was no phone coverage. In his desperation, he contacted the authorities to inquire about his brother, but they only started working after at least two days of being missing.
This situation was stressful for Jack and his mother. They were very worried and considered various possibilities of what might have happened. Tom decided not to tell them anything when offered a call by the authorities and declared that he wouldn't return home. His family was concerned because they heard a weak voice through the phone, but it was all they could do as the studio was too secretive with the information.
Both brothers remained separated for a long time. For Jack, nothing was the same without Tom, and the show looked depressing. Despite this, he maintained a forced smile for his audience. Children asked a lot about his brother, leading him into deep depression.
Tom, moved to another country, working in a new studio as a stylist. He adopted a fearful, anxious, and panicked attitude, afraid of everyone. To distract himself, he overloaded himself with work, trying to maintain composure by breathing deeply. He couldn't stop thinking about his family, and he knew what he was doing wasn't healthy, but he wanted to stay away for a while.
Well, that's roughly the story. It's long, but I feel that now it's better understood than before. Thanks for staying to read and loving Tom Actor! -cries-
Curious facts about Titirilquén today:
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Lately, I've been hooked on a series called "31 minutos," so I included some things from that series. I highly recommend it, it's in Spanish, but there are English subtitles available. Titirilquén is from that show.
Titirilquén doesn't have hospitals because literally no one gets sick there. However, there are places like Mrs. Juanita's service, who takes care of the damaged puppets in this town.
Titirilquén was a town of only puppets but tired of being anonymous and as an unknown town, they decided to include people in their town, building a civilization, the negative of the town only benefits the humans that its own puppet inhabitants.
Facts about Tom:
(Jack's data was deleted to create his respective sheet)
He is 27 years old now.
He speak spanish but he learned English thanks to Cherry.
He is very naive, and that works against him, as he decides to trust everyone.
He has a puppet friend in this studio and his name is Lulu but he affectionately calls him "Wolfy"
When he first arrived at the studio, the studio people confused him with Wally, so since that day, some just call him "Pink Wally." (This is due to his height, skin tone and hair shape, so Tom changed his look to messier hair to not look like Wally)
Tom is a very good worker, but he always hides after finishing his work and doesn't get distracted by anything while working. If a human talks to him, he ignores them, but if it's a puppet, he takes time to chat.
Despite hiding, he is found by children, most of whom are human.
He misses being an actor but is very afraid.
Alongside his brother, they worked on a children's educational program called "Sing until Counting to 3." They taught children songs that included sign language. However, when they leave, the program is completely forgotten by the director.
Tom and Jack are not the same height, Jack has to bend down to hug and talk to him.
Tom usually wears makeup, always in pink or fuchsia, which is his favorite color.
Tom often sees little due to his poor eyesight, so he sometimes needs glasses to see clearly, but he usually doesn't use them because he finds them unnecessary.
Tom has fallen in love with Cherry due to her concern for him (friend, realize...).
As you can see, Tom is afraid of humans, and you rarely find him crying in studio places where people don't live, or even paranoid. If you find him in this situation, make him feel comfortable because he is completely unstable at that moment.
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People consider him strange and curious because he often hides and is fearful, and they don't understand why he behaves like that. (It doesn't mean he avoids bad situations with the studio's humans; some of them respect the puppets, while others decide to hate them.)
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Tom in this Au has a human brother, in the style of muppet protagonists. His name is Jack Lucky and they are both very close and have achieved many things together by working as a team. Jack is very attentive to his puppet brother, caring for him and trying to understand him as best he can.
Will Tom manage to become an actor again? Will his life improve? Will his brother Jack locate him after a long time? Will Tom continue to call himself unfortunate? Find out in the next episode... *Felmonth bids farewell to the viewers watching the video.*
NOW, COMIC! YAY!!
Title: "First unlucky day"
Reference movie: "White Chicks"
I don't know what Janet's design is like, I didn't find any reference, so I made it with what I found.
And well that was all, I hope you liked everything, I did the best I could and as always if there are questions ask without problems.
Bye byeeee!
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Extra: It is assumed that in this unplanned part, Wally told Tom "Consider yourself unlucky for working with me from now on." (No canon for me xD but extra)
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Bye uwu)/💐
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Note
Your stories and images are beyond incredible. My favorite blog on tumblr BY FAR. Truly incredible work. I guess it’s kind of selfish, so absolutely so absolutely no worries, at the very least I got to tell you how much I appreciate and love your content. But I’m a short, nerdy, thin, art student in college right now. I’m tired of being in the closet, I’m tired of being a push over, Im tired of being weak and submissive, I’m tired of being a virgin, and I wanna change. Maybe you could help with a story by turning me into one of those jaw dropping beautiful confident men that you make the pictures of, I would very much appreciate it. But no worries if you can’t, I just love your content!
Confidence
Nathaniel sighed quietly, as he came over his hairless stomach. Of course, he had to be quiet! The dorm walls were paper-thin, and he certainly didn't want the guys from the neighboring dorm rooms to hear him. He looked at the website once more, with the story and the hot buff men before he closed the incognito browser tab and proceeded to clean himself up.
When he looked into the bathroom mirror, he sighed again, but this time, it was a sigh of sadness. There really wasn't anything remotely impressive about him. He was thin and weak, and pathetic really. If it wasn't for his lack of boobs and his sorry excuse for a dick, he could very well pass as a woman. In fact, he had been mistakenly called "Madame" more than once, and one time, he had even been asked "how his transition was going".
No, Nathan was a cis man, just not a very impressive one. He was gay, of course, and loved to look at 'real' men while jerking his small cock. Most of the time, he fantasized about some hairy brute rough-handling him, pushing his face against the bed and fucking his tiny ass into submission. However, even though the thought was exciting to Nathan, he even more wished to *be* such a man. The rational part of Nathan knew that both fantasies would not happen anytime, though. It was physically impossible to just *become* a 'real man', and it was impossible for Nathan to even admit to anyone that he was gay. So, he would probably just stay a closeted virgin forever - doomed to masturbate to some kinky stories he was so embarrassed about that he only dared to look at them from an incognito browser tab.
He sighed a third time when he crawled into bed. Perhaps someday he would accept his fate.
Nathan was already almost asleep when he heard the firework starting outside. Right. It was New Year’s Eve. What a way to start the new year.
The next morning, Nathan was feeling a bit better. Of course, his deep-rooted unhappiness still lingered within him, but Nathan decided to try and enjoy the day. He liked new year’s days. Everyone usually was at home after having celebrated the whole night which meant that the world outside was very quiet. Not much happened on New Year’s Day.
Nathan decided to go to a nearby cafe. There, with a steaming mug of hot chocolate next to him, he got out his drawing utensils and looked around the place. There weren't too many people. An older couple sat together, the man reading a book, and the woman reading a magazine, while an elderly lady sat at the counter. She was probably the owner. However, there was one more guy, a young adult like Nathan, who sat on a nearby table all by himself and was playing on his phone. He had his chair tilted back a bit, stabilizing himself against the wall and rocking a bit. He had earphones in his ear, so he was probably listening to music while doing so.
Nathan's first instinct was to draw the old couple, but then he looked at the other young man again. He looked a bit like one of those men from the internet, the kind that Nathan would fantasize about. Just a bit. The other man wasn't burly and muscular and assertive, but instead he had a lean, fit build. Nathan was a bad judge of character, especially without having spoken to the person in question, but the young man didn't look particularly assertive or dominant either. So, all in all, not too much like the men Nathan longed for on the internet. But still, he had a certain charm to him. Nathan liked the fit, lean body and the aura of positivity the man seemed to exude and wanted to capture that on paper.
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Nathan began sketching the man, while occasionally looking up, making sure the man wouldn't notice. However, it was hard to keep his eyes off the guy. Every now and then, he would laugh a bit or make a funny face when watching something on his phone, which Nathan couldn't help but find very attractive.
He was just working on drawing the man's hands, when Nathan suddenly heard someone address him.
"Hey, what are you drawing?" The voice didn't sound rude or unfriendly, but plainly interested. Still, Nathan flinched visibly. The attractive man on the other table had removed one earplug and turned towards Nathan.
"Uh, sorry?" stuttered Nathan, not quite sure how to react. The guy pointed at Nathan's drawing pad and smiled: "You're an artist?"
Nathan could feel the blood rushing to his face. The drawing pad was tilted towards Nathan, so his unvoluntary model could not have seen what exactly Nathan was drawing. He could - no, he should - just lie and tell him he was sketching something in the room. But he just couldn't think of anything and the time for a good answer was running out. Almost involuntarily, Nathan stuttered, with his head red like a tomato: "Uhm, yeah, kind of. I was sketching you, actually."
The guy laughed a short and friendly laugh: "Really? Cool! Can I see it?"
Nathan could feel his heartbeat quicken, and his face got even redder. This was so embarrassing! But he couldn't very well refuse now, could he? So, he placed the pad flat on the table, just as the guy came over and sat himself down on Nathan's table.
"Oh wow!", he sounded impressed. "You're really talented! It's like looking into a mirror."
"Thanks" - Nathan hated getting compliments. Not only didn't he know how to react to them, but he also found them mostly fake. He was an art student, but he wasn't that good really, at least in his own opinion. In the dictionary, there was probably a picture of Nathan right next to the entry for "Imposter Syndrome".
"But why are you drawing me?" Although Nathan had feared that this question might come up, he didn't have a good lie to answer it. It was almost as if his mouth was acting on its own, when Nathan heard himself stammer: "Uh, eh, it's because I... I find you quite handsome actually. Good-looking I mean."
Nathan wished for nothing more than to be swallowed by the earth here and now. But to his big surprise, the guy just laughed again and said: "You think so? Thanks! The name's Oliver by the way." Oliver had, apparently, much less of a problem taking a compliment.
"Nathan." said Nathan and started to relax a tiny bit. However, the situation suddenly got even worse, when Oliver continued, in the same light-hearted voice. "Nice to meet you, Nathan! Are you into guys?"
Nathan froze solid. He hadn't expected that. And even worse, the answer was, of course, yes. But there was no way he could say that, was there? So, instead, he just stared at Oliver with his eyes wide open and a deer-in-headlights look.
"I mean, I'm gay - are you as well?" Oliver explained. "With the whole drawing dudes and all."
Nathan's brain had stopped working properly, so he couldn't help but nod and mumble a faint "yes".
Oliver's smile broadened and he said: "Really? Cool!"
Nathan's mind was racing. He had just admitted his homosexuality. To a complete stranger. Out of the blue. He didn't plan to come out that way, it just... happened.
A moment of awkward silence radiated from Nathan, but, thankfully, Oliver salvaged the situation pretty elegantly.
"Listen Nathan, I'll have to run now. But are you free tomorrow around 2? We could grab a coffee and you could show me some of your drawings if you like."
A spark of bravery, completely foreign to him, awakened in Nathan and he answered: "Y-yes. I think I would like that."
Oliver smiled another of his broad smiles. "Awesome! Let's meet here then tomorrow!"
With that, Oliver nodded at Nathan and left the cafe, putting in his headphone again while humming happily.
Did that really just happen? Nathan looked from the unfinished drawing towards the cafe door. Did he really just... got invited to a date? With a handsome guy named Oliver? Nathan wasn't sure whether to be happy or not. On the one hand, it was a miracle, a once in a lifetime opportunity. A cute and hot guy was actually interested in him! But on the other hand, there was no way he could make a good impression. How desperate had that Oliver guy to be to actually ask *him* out?
A small voice in his head insisted that he could just not show up tomorrow and avoid the whole disappointment. But the spark of bravery was still there, and Nathan fought down the feeling. No, he was going to show. If it turned out to be a disaster, he could still flee the scene - it wasn't like Oliver knew literally anything about him.
Nathan quickly packed his things and returned to his dorm room. Once he arrived, he noticed that he was completely covered in sweat of fear. His shirt showed wet spots under his arms and felt cold to the touch. Disgusted, Nathan immediately went for a shower. Only there, standing under the hot steamy water, Nathan could appreciate what happened. He got *asked out*. On a *date*. With a *guy*. Yesterday he had been certain he would die alone and lonely but then, today, he got *asked out*. Was this really a thing? Did it really happen?
He wasn't sure. He had a hard time believing it. Perhaps the whole thing was just a weird dream? A figment of his imagination. But no. The half-finished drawing was proof enough that Oliver really existed.
When Nathan exited the shower cabin, the whole bathroom was covered in steam, blinding the mirrors. Perhaps this - or the spinning of his thoughts - was the reason that he didn't notice that his hair had changed. Instead of his usual medium length brown-ish hair, he now sported a much shorter hairstyle - in a much darker color, almost black. Be it as it may - Nathan had other things on mind than checking his hair. He spent the whole afternoon and even the evening researching on how to make a good impression on a first date.
The next morning, Nathan slept in, which was pretty unusual for him. His whole frame felt weird, when he crawled out of bed. It wasn't too late, either - he had a comfortable 3 hours until the date. When he passed the bathroom mirror on his morning routine, however, he stopped for a moment. Something was... off about his face. His hair. It looked kind of... different?
Nathan stared at his reflection for a few seconds, straining his mind. Somehow, the shape of his jawbone seemed unfamiliar. And was his hair always that dark, almost black?
Finally, he shook his head. No, he was just seeing things. Of course, that was as it always had been. After having finished his bathroom business, Nathan went for a shower and prepared himself.
An hour later, he stood in front of the mirror, trying out a bunch of outfits and felt slight panic rising inside of him. None of his clothes fit very well, it was like he was cursed! It wasn't that his shirts and pants were much too big or much too small, but for some reason none of his clothes really felt comfortable. Both his favorite shirt and his usual jeans felt somewhat constricting today. Finally, Nathan just put on an outfit, and left his room.
When he entered the cafe, Oliver was already sitting there, two coffee mugs in front of him. He smiled, waved and gestured for Nathan to join him.
"Hello, Nathan!"
"H-hi." said Nathan, his nervousness returning.
"Here, I bought you a coffee!" Oliver pushed one of the mugs over the table.
"Thanks." Nathan was somewhat distracted by the ill-fitting clothes, and he could pretty much feel the nervous sweat practically pouring out of his pores.
"No problem!", said Oliver. "I was early, anyway. How are you doing today?"
"Fine." said Nathan and took a sip of his coffee, trying to hide his nervousness. He vividly remembered all the good advice he had read yesterday, but all that felt just impossible to him.
"So, you're an artist? What do you do?" Oliver asked with genuine interest.
"Well, I study art, I guess. I want to be a concept artist, you know, for games or movies or so. But, eh, right now, I'm just a student, and I'm not really that good."
"That's not how I remember it!" smiled Oliver. "Can you show me more of your work?"
Nathan nodded as he got out his sketchbook. Talking about his art was something he was comfortable with and allowed him to warm up somewhat over the course of the conversation. Oliver appeared to be quite a nice guy and had a lot of questions about drawing, so, Nathan, in turn, started to relax and talk more freely. He found out that Oliver was a veterinary technician and had a part time job at a dog shelter. That, combined with the fact that he was, in general, a really nice and positive guy, made him incredibly appealing to Nathan.
After the two had talked for a while, Oliver suddenly remarked: "You know, I really like your stubble! It really suits you!"
Stubble? What was he talking about? Nathan rarely needed to shave, but he had done so this morning, so, it was absolutely impossible that he should have visible facial hair. And yet, as he felt his chin, his fingers met with bristly short hair, so dense and long that there was no way he could have missed it this morning. Nathan found it strange, to say the least, but didn't want to make a scene in this situation. His spark of courage was a small candle flame now, as he just smiled while he felt his chin and said "Thank you!"
The two continued to chat a bit. While doing so, Nathan tried not to think too much about the fact that his clothes were, somehow, tighter than before.
Finally, Oliver's phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen.
"Damn, it's that late already?"
"What is it?", asked Nathan.
"Oh, the dog shelter. I have a shift soon, I need to go!"
Nathan sighed inwardly. He was really enjoying the date and didn't want it to end. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of Olivers hand on his. It felt... good. Good and strange, like the texture of his own hand was somewhat wrong, somewhat rougher than before. When he looked up into Oliver's eyes, he found the other man smiling.
"I really enjoyed this. You are a wonderful person, Nathan. We should do this again."
Nathan nodded. He didn't trust his voice right now.
"How about... tomorrow?", Oliver continued. "There's an art exhibition in town, perhaps you would like to go there with me?"
Nathan's heart jumped a beat. He didn't have time or courage yet to go to the exhibition and the prospect of seeing Oliver again so soon was wonderful.
"I would very much like that", Nathan replied and smiled.
"Great! Let's meet there, say at 5?"
"Sure!"
Oliver smiled his beautiful, broad smile, and stood up, leaving some money for the coffees on the table. Nathan too got up, but before he could leave, Oliver stopped him with a warm expression in his eyes. "You know, I really think I like you a lot." He said, and his hand touched Nathan's somewhat bristly cheek. Almost automatically, both of their faces drew closer to each other, until their lips met with the slightest touch. It was a chaste, short kiss, but Nathan could feel Oliver's lips smile when they broke apart.
"See you tomorrow!", said Oliver and left the cafe.
Nathan's knees felt weak, and his heart was beating rapidly. There were a thousand feeling, all happening inside him at once and Nathan needed a moment to sort through them before he was able to move again. There was a part of him that couldn't quite believe what just happened, but the biggest part was just euphoric. He basically jogged back to his home, full of a never experienced energy.
When he arrived in his room, his body was feeling even weirder than before. All of his clothes were way too tight. It was not just that he felt constricted, no, the clothes actually were much too small. He quickly got rid of them, noticing that, again, he had sweated like a pig. As Nathan glanced down on himself, he could almost see that his body was somehow different. Fitter, healthier. It was probably just his imagination, though, caused by his ecstatic mood. He briefly considered taking another shower but postponed it to tomorrow. There would be plenty of time and Nathan felt really glad and tired for today.
Nathan woke up from two different feelings the next morning. First, he felt itchy and sweaty all over his body and was subconsciously scratching himself in his sleep. Second, and perhaps even more importantly, Nathan was experiencing a severe case of morning wood. His manhood was rigid and pulsating under his sheets and was begging for attention. Nathan had a hard time remembering when he last experienced such an urgent urge to jerk off. He wasn't sure, but the memories of their kissing yesterday came to his mind as soon as he woke up, so, he couldn't resist closing his hand around his hard cock and started pumping. His hand felt rough and big, and Nathan couldn't be sure, but both length and girth of his tool seemed increased, too. However, Nathan could hardly concentrate on that due to the waves of pleasure washing over him.
It didn't take very long for Nathan to shoot a big load onto his stomach, with a moan. It was a big and sticky load, too, mixing with the little dark hairs on his stomach and chest. Nathan blinked in post-nut clarity. Hairs? He didn't have body hair.
Nathan got up quickly and went to the bathroom. Something about his perspective was off, too. It was like the ceiling was closer than it was supposed to be, and the ground further away. Once Nathan had used some toilet paper to wipe away most of the cum, he took a look at himself in the mirror. There was no denying that he looked different. He was definitely somewhat taller and broader than before. He didn't have a scale, but he was sure that he had gained quite some weight as well - not only due to the increased height and broader shoulders but also because his previous stickman-like appearance had been altered quite somewhat. All over his frame, a lean definition was visible, hinting at muscles even. His chin was covered in visible stubble and there was a bit of body hair visible, mainly on his chest and stomach as well as peeking out under his armpit.
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Speaking of which, as Nathan raised his arm to look at his pits, a certain smell reached his nose. A musky, manly, slightly sweaty odor that wasn't quite unpleasant but was certainly unfamiliar.
Nathan had a hard time wrapping his mind around what he was seeing. There was no denying he looked *good*. He just didn't look exactly like *himself*. And for some reason, this didn't bother Nathan quite as much as it probably should. He should be panicking or calling a doctor. People didn't just grow taller overnight or put on definition without working out. And yet, Nathan only felt a slight bit of curiosity and a weak impulse that he probably *should* work out then.
Nathan shook his head and went back to his bedroom. He didn't bother putting on clothing and tried to pass the time until afternoon. The only thing that he *really* regretted about his sudden changes was that his favorite shirt and jeans would definitely not fit anymore.
He ended up watching a bit of TV and browsing the internet, before he decided it was time to prepare himself. Finding clothes that would fit now proved to be quite a challenge, but in the end, he settled on a plain t-shirt and some cargo pants. He had bought both of them a number too big by mistake, which came in quite handy now.
Walking through the city was a strange experience. He felt good about himself and held his head high. Combined with the fact that Nathan's head was, indeed, higher than before, it was like seeing the city in a whole new perspective. Less looking at the ground and more looking straight ahead.
His new posture seemed to have another effect, too. Where before he had to avoid people, trying not to get in their way, now they seemed to be stepping aside for him, which was a foreign but not unpleasant experience.
Finally, he arrived at the exhibition and found Oliver already waiting for him. They greeted with a hug and a short kiss, both fully reciprocated by Nathan, and went inside. Although Oliver seemed to notice something was off about Nathan, he didn't mention it and apparently forgot about it quickly.
Today, Nathan found it much easier to talk to Oliver and brought up topics by himself.
The exhibition however was kind of a let-down for Nathan. Although he could judge on a rational level that the art presented here was really well-done and interesting, on a purely emotional level, Nathan found it mind-numbingly boring. The conversation steered away from the art quickly, and more towards personal matters, which was a relief. So, even though they didn't care much about the paintings around them, the two of them ended up wandering around the exhibition for hours, talking and having a good time.
During the date, however, Nathan was quickly experiencing an unfamiliar feeling. The company of Oliver was... exciting. Exciting on a sexual, primal level. Nathan's larger manhood grew semi-hard in his underwear quickly, so Nathan had to readjust himself more than once. At first, he was very self-conscious about it and tried to be as subtle as possible. However, with every push his cock needed in order not to be too obvious, Nathan actually cared less about who saw him readjust himself. He was a guy after all, and all big-dicked men had that particular problem from time to time.
Besides forming a bulge in his groin, however, his constantly semi-hard cock did one more thing: Nathan was leaking precum in his underwear. First, it was just a drop or two on an involuntary throb, but it quickly became more. His underwear was feeling damp before long, and a faint note of sexuality mixed into his still present smell.
After a while, Oliver even commented on it, in his usual upbeat way: "Hey, Nathan, I have to say, you smell pretty good. Are you using cologne?"
Nathan hadn't noticed his own smell too much. His first impulse was to apologize, but the burning campfire of courage inside of him quickly told him otherwise. Oliver didn't complain. In fact, he liked it.
So, Nathan answered with a grin: "Nope. That's just how I smell."
Oliver took another whiff of the mixture of sweat, dried cum and precum and smiled. "Well, I like it!"
Nathan wasn't quite sure how to react, and just said: "Thanks!"
The exhibition was closing down soon, and Nathan offered Oliver to accompany him to the train station, which he gladly accepted. When they parted, they kissed again. This time, it wasn't a small, timid kiss like before, but a long, sexual one that made Nathan's dick twitch like mad in the confines of his pants. Since their bodies were pressed closely together, Nathan could be sure that Oliver felt the movement against his own groin.
Only after they broke the kiss, Nathan noticed that he was now looking down on Oliver slightly. He could have sworn that Oliver had been slightly taller than him yesterday.
There was no telling on how the evening would have continued hadn't it been for Oliver's train to arrive just then. Before Oliver could board the train, however, Nathan grinned at him and said: "Dinner tomorrow? The Italian place downtown, at 6?"
"I would love that!"
They kissed again and Nathan watched as the train pulled out. Then, he went back to his dorm, whistling a happy tune. It didn't even occur to him that he had taken the initiative in asking Oliver out for a third date. The fire of confidence was burning bright inside of him.
When he came home, Nathan immediately stripped out of his clothes. Even the larger shirt had become somewhat tight. He took a short look at it. There was a wet patch under both arms from his constant sweating, and the t-shirt had adapted his smell. There was something else in the smell, though. At the chest region, there was a medium sized stain, machine oil from the smell of it. Nathan wondered briefly how he could have missed it this morning but then diverted his attention to more pressing matters. His cock was fully hard and was poking out from the waistband of his briefs. Nathan hadn't had an erection like that since puberty and, if he was honest with himself, the feeling was rather nice. Without hesitation, he closed his hand around his hard meat and gave it a few experimental pumps. A low growl escaped his mouth, and a shiver went through his body. He didn't want to go slow, he wanted to fuck. His mind was focused on the task at hand. He didn't even bother to close his curtains, as he went for it. Nathan was jacking himself off, fast and hard, growling and groaning, until he finally exploded all over his chest and face, shooting multiple loads of thick white cum everywhere.
As Nathan was catching his breath, the smell of cum was heavy in the room. God, he needed that. Ever since he met Oliver today. He wiped his face and chest with his discarded t-shirt and briefly considered if he wanted to take a shower. The smell emanating from him was rather strong now, but still, he didn't want to. Oliver seemed to like his body odor, and, if Nathan was being honest, he did so himself, too.
Nathan was woken by his alarm the next morning. As his mind came to focus, his hand reached for the smartphone automatically and dismissed the alarm. He yawned and stretched. He was really looking forward to today. Given, it was the last day before classes started again, but he was going to a third date with Oliver this evening!
When Nathan crawled out of bed and went for his bathroom, however, his body felt weird again. The muscles had become more defined over the course of the last two days and now, the whole body structure felt *strong*. The few hairs from before had become a small forest of body hair and the stubble had grown thicker. He still didn't feel the need for a shave, though.
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Nathan wasn't quite sure about the whole situation. Of course, he was enjoying the change. On the other hand, ... No, fuck the other hand. This was great, plain and simple. He finished his morning business standing up while peeing, which he usually never did. But right now, it just felt *right*.
After that, he inspected his wardrobe. He had half-feared that he would need to go and buy new clothes, but apparently, overnight his wardrobe had changed as well. It was filled with sturdy cargos or work pants as well as simple shirts and the occasional overall. Good!
His underwear choice had also changed. Instead of briefs or boxers, the drawer was now filled with jockstraps. That made sense, of course - only a jockstrap would set his large dick in the right scene.
None of the clothes qualified as "clean". Sure, they had been washed before they went into the wardrobe, but permanent grease or oil stains had permeated the fabric just as Nathan's manly stink - both marks no washing machine could ever erase entirely.
Nathan grabbed one of the pants and smelled it. He couldn't help but smile. This was his smell. This was *his* smell. His manly, sweaty, dirty, horny smell. He even felt his ever-present dick twitch a bit at the smell. Nathan wasn't sure if he would ever get used to this new reality. Or if this even was the final reality.
The hours passed quickly. Nathan was keeping himself busy, playing games or listened to music. Not once did it occur to him to draw something or even look at his art. This new him wasn't particularly creative, it seemed.
Nathan's mind wandered back to the date this evening. He couldn't wait to see Oliver again. In fact, he couldn't wait for more than that. It was a third date and Nathan wanted to go all the way with Oliver. He wanted to take his ass and fuck it into oblivion.
At around 5 pm, Nathan stood in front of the Italian place, waiting for Oliver. When Oliver finally arrived, the two men greeted each other with a passionate kiss. Nathan could tell that the kiss was having an effect on Oliver, as his breathing was quicker than usual.
They went inside and sat down on a table. Almost automatically, Nathan's legs spread wide, taking up space, establishing presence and, most importantly, giving his equipment the necessary space. The *old* Nathan would have sat with his legs closed or even crossed, in order to not draw any attention to himself. However, the new Nathan didn't want to draw *less* attention.
The two chatted a bit, with the main topic of the conversation being the menu, before ordering. When he spoke, Nathan noted that his voice had dropped an octave, making his voice gravely and his laugh a low rumble. When Oliver had chosen, Nathan summoned the waiter and ordered for the both of them, his lower voice full of confidence. For Nathan, it was a large meat pizza and a beer.
"You know, I have never seen you drink before", remarked Oliver.
"I don't usually", replied Nathan. "But I thought I'd have a beer today."
"You're not driving, are you?"
"Na, I'm here on foot."
Oliver smiled his usual smile. "I'm here by car, so if you like, I can give you a ride home afterwards."
There seemed to be some subtext to this offer, but it went over Nathan's head. Not that it was necessary, because he had the exact same plans, anyway.
"Sounds great!"
A couple of minutes later, their pizzas arrived, and the two dug in.
"I really like your style, Nathan." said Oliver after a while.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know, the way you dress. The way you talk. The way you act."
"Oh. Thanks."
Nathan thought for a moment before he added: "You know, I go by Nate these days."
"Nate, eh?", smiled Oliver.
"Yeah. Fits better, you know."
"I guess so. I like it a lot!"
"I like your style, too."
"What do you mean by that?", Oliver laughed.
"Just, the way you talk, the way you walk. Everything. You're cute, you know."
"Why, thank you!"
The conversation was definitely a lot more flirtatious than yesterday. When they had finished their meals, they didn't linger much longer in the restaurant but got into Oliver's car.
Nate proceeded to give Oliver directions to his home. However, at a certain crossing, he had to stop and think for a moment. He knew for a fact that his dorm was to the left. But he also knew for a fact that his *home* was to the right. Nate decided not to overthink it and directed Oliver to the right with a firm voice.
They didn't get very far from that point, when suddenly, the car stopped with a jerk.
"Damn, sorry!" said Oliver. "The engine is acting up again. It's probably too cold or something like that. I'll just try to start it up again."
When after the third try, the engine didn't start again, Nate laid a hand on Oliver's. "Let me try." he said with a confident voice and left the car. When he opened the hood, the problem became clear to him right away.
"The carburetor is a bit clogged, I'll unclog it real quick and we're ready to go."
While Oliver was staring at Nate in surprise, as the latter quickly and with trained skill removed a few parts and then, with a flex of his mighty arms, applied percussive maintenance to the part in question. After Nate had reassembled the engine, he cleaned his hands on his pants and got into the car again, filling out the passenger seat with his presence.
"It should work again for now, but I'll have to clean it thoroughly tomorrow. The thing is just old and worn down, it needs replacing soon. Just try starting the engine."
Oliver was still staring at Nate with a disbelieving look on his face. Finally, however, he tried starting the engine again, and the car did indeed start running smoothly.
"Wow, Nate, that was amazing! Where did you learn that?"
"What do you mean", grinned Nate. "That's what I do!"
Oliver stared at him for a moment. "Wait, you're a mechanic?"
"Yeah, sure, didn't I tell you when we met?"
Oliver seemed to think about it but then slowly nodded: "Yes, I... think so. Weird. I could have sworn..."
Nate shrugged and pointed down the road: "Shall we go?"
They arrived at Nate's place shortly after. He had a cheap apartment directly over the car garage where he worked. Nate did try to clean up a bit the afternoon, but the place still screamed "Manly bachelor" all over the place with the occasional beer can or jockstrap scattered around.
Neither of them had time to care, though. As soon as the door closed, the two kissed. It wasn't just a chaste, romantic kiss. This was a heated, passionate kiss, full of desire and lust. Nate took Oliver's body and pushed him against the wall, grinding their bodies together. Both were hard and their breathing was rapid. Nate's hands wandered up and down Oliver's body, squeezing and grabbing his body. His fingers were strong and forceful, and he squeezed the smaller man's buttocks and his dick with the same intensity. Oliver responded by moaning and pushing his groin against Nate's, humping him.
Suddenly, Nate broke the kiss. "Oliver, I... I want you. I want to fuck you."
Oliver didn't answer, but kissed Nate again, harder this time. Nate's tongue invaded his mouth, and the bigger man's hands were ripping Oliver's shirt and pants off him. Once Oliver's dick was free, it was enveloped by Nate's big calloused hand, and Oliver's breath hitched in his throat.
"Oh god, Nate, yes!" he moaned.
Nate had enough of foreplay, and he wanted to fuck, now. Without wasting any time, he quickly pushed his pants down and pressed his dick against Oliver's. It was massive, even compared to Oliver's not insignificant size. While Nate's balls were big and heavy, his cock was thick, long, and veiny, with a fat mushroom head. It was also rock hard, and the head was already drooling precum.
With one hand, Nate stroked the two cocks together, rubbing them and smearing the precum all over his dick and Oliver's. With the other hand, he pulled Oliver close and kissed him again, a long, sensual, passionate kiss, which made Oliver moan into his mouth.
The two stood like that for a while, but finally, Nate's need to fuck was stronger than anything else.
"Bedroom. Now!" he growled and dragged the smaller man with him. Once there, Nate simply tossed him onto the bed and followed quickly, his cock pointing up. He positioned himself on top of the other man and kissed him again, their tongues dancing in their mouths.
When the kiss broke, Oliver was panting.
"You really are a big boy, huh?"
"Damn right I am."
"Oh god, I need your big dick inside of me!"
"Yeah? You want me to fuck you?"
"Please! I've wanted to feel your huge meat in me for days."
"Fuck yeah. You're gonna get it."
Nate reached under his bed and produced a bottle of lube, which he applied liberally to his dick.
"You're ready?"
"Do it, big guy."
Nate placed the head of his massive cock against the tight pucker and started to push. Slowly but steadily, his dick invaded Oliver's ass.
"Oooooooooh god, Nate, yesssssss!" moaned Oliver.
The pressure around Nate's dick was unbelievable. Oliver was clearly tight, and the way his asshole was massaging his dick felt heavenly.
Finally, Nate's dick was balls-deep inside Oliver. Both were breathing heavily, and Oliver was moaning incoherently. Nate gave him a moment to adjust and then started moving his hips, first slowly, but increasing his pace quickly. Soon, he was slamming into Oliver's ass as hard as he could, pulling almost completely out and then thrusting back inside the smaller man.
"Fuck yeah! You like that? You like my huge dick pounding your tight little ass?"
"God, yes, Nate, fuck me, fuck meeee!"
Nate was groaning and growling, a sound that came deep from his chest and made Oliver moan even louder.
"Oh shit, Nate, I'm so close! Don't stop, please don't stop, don't st- ooooooooh gooooooood!"
Nate felt Oliver's muscles clamp down on his dick, and that sent him over the edge. He buried his dick as deep as he could and shot a big load of cum deep into Oliver's guts.
The two of them collapsed on each other, spent but happy.
A lot had changed for Nathan in this new year. He had gotten a new body, a new job, a new identity even. But most importantly, he had found love. Nate the manly mechanic sighed. If he were to describe his feelings, looking into the future, there was only one fitting word: Confidence.
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I actually generated a ton (okay, 50) of images for this story. If you want to check out the alternate versions of the different stages of Nathan/Nate, check out my tip jar, where I posted them!
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foreveralbon · 5 months
Text
“my model, my inspiration, my muse, my everything” - ln4
pairing: lando norris x reader
in which lando becomes a stranger’s muse and more
word count: 3.5k
content warnings: swearing, i am not an art girlie so very limited (and crappy) descriptions of artworks enjoy!! <3
masterlist
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lando doesn’t want to be there. sure, he’s never going to turn down an invitation to go to the club with oscar and the rest of the team, but is he always going to want to be there? not really.
because between what felt like a shit sprint, an even shittier race and the shittiest weekend he’s ever had with the car in qatar, he’d rather be at home, wallowing in his own self pity, half asleep while watching friends reruns. but things don’t always go his way, so being dragged out of the hotel by oscar and the others to a club he doesn’t want to be at against his will seems quite on brand for lando norris. 
he’s decided to make the shadows his hiding spot, sitting at the corner of the bar where he can drown himself in enough shots and self-pity that it could rival charles’ mood after a dnf with ferrari. he makes it through five shots, seven songs, and manages one pathetic rundown of the race in his head before two bodies slide up to the bar beside him. he’s known max too long to not be able to tell when his best friend is to the left beside him, so he instantly assumes pietra’s to his right.  
“p,” he says, not turning to look at the girl. “do you reckon we can-”
there’s a small pause before an uncertain, “me?” is said in his direction. the unfamiliar voice has him raising his head to see a girl who is definitely not max’s girlfriend staring back at him. it takes him an extra second to register that it’s a very pretty girl staring back at him. 
it probably must be the alcohol giving him a boost of unexpected confidence because it takes just the smallest of glances at her before he’s blurting out, “can i buy you a drink?” 
he can hear max sputter behind him because where the hell did that come from, lando? yeah, definitely the alcohol. 
but her eyes can barely hide her amusement and she can barely contain her giggles, a bubbly laugh that’s music to lando’s ears. “i’m sorry, but i don’t even know your name.”
with his cheeks tinged pink, the man holds his hand out. “i’m lando.”
her grip is strong in his, the rings on her fingers cool against his warm skin. “y/n. you don’t look like you’re having too much fun, lando.” she jerks her head toward the exit, turning back to him with a smirk that has lando’s insides melting. “how do you feel about ditching?”
her hand never leaves lando’s as he tells max he’ll call him when he gets the chance and then she’s leading him out the bar and onto the main street. he finds himself questioning whether he should trust some random girl he just met to take him around in a foreign country but the voice of reason in his head shuts up when she looks up at him with a smile that instantly has his knees weak and his dimples on full display. 
maybe this weekend might not end so bad after all. 
— 
they converse over sodas and shawarma because nothing else is really open at that time of night in qatar, and with every passing minute of their “date”, lando finds himself more intrigued by her than he ever thought could be possible. 
maybe it’s the way her hair falls over her shoulder when she leans forward to listen to him and give him her utmost attention. or it could be the way her eyes soften whenever she makes him laugh. maybe it’s the way her lips curve up into the most beautifully cheeky smile whenever he says something so out of pocket that it makes her head drop down as her shoulders shake with silent laughter. 
“so, what do you do?” 
her question comes as a surprise to lando. not that he expected her to really know, but qatar is a small country and he wouldn’t think much would happen at the same time as the doha grand peix. 
“i’m a formula one driver,” he says. 
“that is so cool,” she gasps. “i wish i could have a cool job like that. i’m an artist, and i guess there’s not much to say about that. i’m in a bit of a slump though, that’s why i came to qatar, for inspiration.”
“and have you found any? inspiration, i mean.” 
“not yet. but if you want, maybe you can be my muse.”
he just laughs and moves the conversation along, but his mind doesn’t stop racing, keeps screaming, yeah, maybe i can. 
— 
lando decides it quickly: he’s had y/n for two weeks and he would go to the ends of the world and back for her. 
after their late night date in qatar, they exchanged numbers after finding out they both live in london, under the promise they would see each other again when they were both back home.
since then, they’d spent hours messaging each other. lando talks about his driver friends, his childhood in karting and his favourite places to visit. she talks about her art, university and her favourite foods to eat. she makes him promise her that he’ll take her all around the world, and he makes her promise him that she’ll never make him eat any foods with fish.  
he tells himself it’s not normal to feel like this, to tone it down a little bit. when, really, all he wants to do is just giggle and swing his legs like a little schoolgirl with a crush. 
“guys, i’m in love,” he announces two weeks later, falling onto the couch of oscar’s driver room in the austin gp.
“are you now?” oscar muses, pushing lando’s legs from off the couch so he can sit down beside him. lando throws him a snarky look but continues talking when he realises the aussie’s on his phone and paying him no attention. 
“no, seriously. her name’s y/n, she’s from england too. she’s funny, kind, smart, talented, artistic. she’s a painter and all that.”
“a painter?” oscar looks up. “where’d you go that you met an artist?” 
lando quickly fills oscar in on the last two weeks, from leaving the celebrations early to their nightly conversations. he even mentions her creative slump, how he’s trying to help find ways to inspire her. 
he doesn’t register the look of affection oscar’s giving him, but when he does, he stutters to a stop. “oi, why are you giving me that look?” 
“i’m glad you’ve found someone, mate.” he stands up and heads toward the door before stopping slightly. “just don’t fuck it up, yeah?” 
the door swings shut behind oscar and lando slumps back onto the couch, a smitten look on his face. “me too, mate. me too.”
and when his phone lights up with a photo of her smiling face taken the night they met, he’s never felt more lovestruck. 
— 
lando asks her to be his girlfriend over the phone in oscar’s driver room in texas. he could’ve sworn his heart doubled in size hearing her laugh out the sweetest chorus of “yes” he’d ever heard in his life. 
he spends the next four weeks leading to the winter break on the phone with his girlfriend - his girlfriend! - and his first day off on a plane to see her. she greets him at the airport, practically jumping into his arms when she sees him.
from the moment he gets her in his arms, he knows he’s never going to let her go. and he quite literally doesn’t the first few days. his hand is glued to her thigh in the car, his arms wrapped around her shoulders or waist whenever he can get behind her, or he’s got a hand in her pocket as they walk around. it’s only until she has to go to art studio that she manages to peel him off her.
“listen, lan, baby,” she says between the kisses he presses onto her lips, “i need to go now, but i’ll be back to pick you up later.”
“but i don’t want you to go,” he whines. she presses her palm to his cheek lovingly before walking out the front door of his london home and leaving him alone.
but true to her word, she’s back a couple hours later, urging him into the car, and when he asks where she’s taking him, she simply says somewhere.
it doesn’t take long for them to pull up in front of a small building, and he doesn’t question it when she tells him to close his eyes before she takes his hand and leads him inside.
“promise me you’re not looking, lan.” her own hands now cover his eyes as she guides him through the building.
“promise, love,” he says.
it’s not until he feels her hands moving away and the creak of a door swinging open that he opens his eyes and is meant with a paint-splattered room full of used and empty canvases. but then she turns his attention to a certain corner of the room, a display of canvases stood on easels staring back at him - it takes a moment for him to notice that it’s his face staring back at him. multiple portraits of close up shots, to him on the podium, to even a formula one car going around a corner of the track.
“i have an art exhibition coming up and i didn’t know what to do, but when i saw you, i just knew i had to paint you,” she explains, following him closer to the paintings. she lets him brush his fingers across the fabric, watches him trail every detail along the curve of his painted faces, the glint of his p2 trophy from his podium in brazil, the shape of the car - max’s, he realises. he tears his gaze away just as she continues talking.
“i know it’s not a lot, and it might seem a bit creepy because i did go through pinterest for a bunch of good photos of you, and i took screenshots of you whenever skysports showed you on screen. but you’re just so pretty, and i really, really wanted to paint you and-” she registers the look he’s giving her, arms crossed, head tilted to the side as his face stretches into a smile so big his eyes squint. “why are you looking at me like that?”
“you think i’m pretty?”
she scoffs and pushes him back, a laugh bubbling out of lando’s mouth as he grabs her wrist and hold her to him. she loops her arms around his neck before saying, “you know, i almost forgot why i loved this.” she pauses, and he gives a look, prodding her on. “but you’ve reminded me why. it’s like being with you makes the world seem different. brighter. better. happier.”
lando wishes he had his camera, wishes he could be a painter like her just so he could capture the pure joy in her eyes and keep it forever, because even if her face in that moment was the last thing he saw, lando’s sure he would die a happy man.
he doesn’t know what to say, so he just kisses her instead, letting her know all he was trying to say with that one sweet motion. and when he rests his forehead on hers, he grins cheekily and says, “looks like i became your muse after all, huh?”
the gallery is bustling with noise as he pushes past the double doors into y/n’s art exhibition four months later. four months of late nights and long days, multiple stress breaks and even more mental breakdowns. though most of the work took place during the winter break, lando wouldn’t have traded it for the world, because no matter how he spent it, there was nothing better than being by his girl’s side.
oscar stands to his right, a woah of appreciation escaping his lips as they take in the gallery.
paintings in shades of orange, pink and yellow hang along one wall - her perception of him watches everyone from its place on the wall opposite. oscar and lando stand tall in their own separate large frame, and it’s hard to miss the signature colours of mclaren, but dimmer, almost warmer, a style lando would recognise anywhere as y/n’s having spent so long around it.
the way everyone marvels over his girl’s artwork is music to his ears and he can’t help but flush when people recognise him as the man in the portraits.
“young lando norris,” someone booms from behind him. he recognises y/n’s art professor emerging from the crowd and greets the older man with a firm handshake.
“sir! good to see you,” lando says politely.
he gestures around him. “your girl’s done well, lando.”
lando nods. “she has. i’m very proud of her, i always knew she could do it.”
“have you seen her yet?”
“no, i haven’t, actually. i came with oscar, so.”
the older man ahhs, giving him a knowing smile. “well, don’t let me hold you up. go get her.”
lando leaves them with a gracious nod, moving through the crowd to his girl, all the while accepting handshakes from supportive friends and small wishes of “congratulations”, “well done” and “tell her we’re proud of her”. he finally spots her, hair pinned to perfection and dress perfectly hugging every curve of her body, making small talk with a well-dressed couple in the corner of the room.
he catches the exact moment she realises he’s there, revels in the grin that splits her face as she excuses herself. it’s barely a minute between that moment to when she’s barreling into his arms, head furrowing in the crook of his neck as she mumbles, “you made it.”
he presses her tighter to his body. “i wouldn’t miss this for the world, love.”
their moment short-lived though when someone kindly taps on her shoulder. y/n pulls away from him and, with one glance at the woman, turns back to him. “i have to go make a speech, but i’ll be back right after.”
he lets her go with a quick kiss to her lips and forehead and never takes his eyes of her as she makes her way through the crowd to the front of the room, his cheeks flushing when she catches sight of him and blows him a quick kiss. he feels oscar come up beside him, handing him a glass before resting his now-free hand on lando’s shoulder, muttering a low, “simp.”
shut up he shoots back, just as y/n taps the microphone in her hand once, twice, getting the guests’ attention.
“hello everyone, i just wanted thank you all for coming out here tonight. it means so much to me.” she pauses for the ‘you’re welcome’s’ before continuing, “i know i’ve already addressed everyone here and said my thank you’s, but i’d like to mention two more people. oscar, who was patient enough to pose for me for one of my paintings. it means the world to me, thank you, osc.
“and to lando, the boy who inspired me to do all this. if you don’t know who he is, just look around, you’ll find him, he looks really similar to the big guy on the wall.” a chorus of laughter rings out. “without you, lan, i couldn’t have done any of this. thank you for sitting there on facetime so that i could sketch you because i was scared i wouldn’t do you justice from memory, thank you for bringing me takeout when i was stuck in the studio late at night, hyper-fixating on the smallest of details and so much more. i love you, so so much.”
and as the crowd erupts into applause, he just raises his glass in the smallest of gestures to her, and whispers, “anything for you, baby.”
it’s later that night when they’re both in the comforting darkness of their room, still tipsy off too many glasses of champagne and each other. he runs a hand through her hair, her naked body warm against his. they’re already so close he can’t even tell where he starts and she stops, but he needs to be closer. he tugs her toward him, bringing her leg over his hip and tucking her face in the crook of his neck before wrapping his arms around her torso. 
“lando, i can’t breathe,” she laughs, but she still furrows closer to him. 
“it’s a great way to go, don’t you think?”
“mmm, the best way.”
“baby?”
“yes.”
he knots his hand through her hair once more, pulling her away from his neck and forcing her to look at him. “you know i live for you, right?”
“do you?” her voice is incredulous, like she can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. 
“only you, because of you. no one else.”
she’s quiet for a moment, only the sound of their even breaths filling the room. and then she’s pressing the softest kisses to his face. his eyes - “my model” - cheeks - “my inspiration” - nose - “my muse” - and then his lips: “my everything.”
“i love you, lando.”
“i love you, too, baby.”
“only me?”
her voice is small and muffled and he can’t help but laugh. “yeah, darling, only you.”
author’s note: helloo, firstly, thank you soso much to @disneyprincemuke for encouraging me to finish this mwah <3
secondly, i don’t normally write fics, i mainly write other original works and my main genre is normally thriller and suspense so this is very far off what i normally write. feedback is so appreciated so please don’t hesitate to critique :)
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tasteleeknow · 2 years
Text
º.☆・ ⇢ HURT/COMFORT WITH SKZ
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genre: fluff, angst. content warnings: insecurities, depression, jealousy, fear of the dark, accidental injury, minor illness, alcohol use, driving anxiety word count: 4.6k (500 each)
a/n: my first ot8 post as a little thank you for 2k! i appreciate you so much both for reading and leaving feedback. hope you enjoy this too!
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CHAN — his insecurities are getting to him
“But…you said we could go today…” you mutter, struggling to keep the disappointment from your voice. You’d been looking forward to this day all week. Your boyfriend had promised you’d finally go to the art exhibition in the city. It would be ending soon and then it would be gone forever. 
Your boyfriend looks up from where he is hunched over his desk, where he had been scribbling something in a notebook. “I just can’t today.” 
“Is it work?” 
He looks back at the paper, pen halted. “No.” 
“What’s so important that it has to be done today?” 
“Go with Hyunjin instead.” 
You take a step back, caught off guard. “What?”
“Hyunjin likes art, I’m sure he’d be stoked to go with you.” 
You instinctively look down at your phone, having just texted your roommate minutes earlier. “Yeah, he probably would. But I want to go with you.” 
Chan stands from his desk, keeping his back to you. You watch as he fiddles with his pen for a moment before dropping it and finally turning to face you. “Do you really?”
You frown, walking over to him and adjusting his necklace where it had twisted around his neck. “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I want to do something with my boyfriend?” 
He’s quiet for a moment.. Most of the time he just speaks, letting whatever he was thinking out—no filters or barriers. You loved him for it, for speaking his mind so freely. These moments when he was clearly preparing his words before voicing them are rare, so you wait. You wait, knowing he was taking a moment to gather his thoughts and that any interruption would throw him off track. 
“Do you ever wonder if someone else would be better for you? If we don’t…click as well as we should?” he finally says, eyes cast down. 
You drop your hands from his necklace, the one you’d gifted for his previous birthday. “No,” you answer without hesitation. “Do you?” 
“Can you…think about it for a moment… before answering. It’s important.” 
“I don’t need to think about it. I’m being honest. I’ve never wondered that and I’ve never had any doubts about you. About us.” You watch as his brows draw together, clearly lost in thought again. “Have you?” you ask him again. 
“I wonder…if someone like Hyunjin might make you happier.” 
You glance at the desk, where the notebook lays open—his scribbled handwriting filling the page. “Have you been feeling bad again?” you ask. 
He looks over his shoulder, following your eyeline. He takes a step back to close the book. You step up to him, trailing your hand up his chest to rest over his heart. “It’s okay, I wasn’t trying to read it. I just…want you to tell me when you’re feeling bad. So I can be here for you.” 
He takes a step away from you, your hand dropping from his chest. “But that’s the problem. I’m always having these episodes; days where I don’t want to leave the house or where I feel so low I feel like I bring you down with me.” 
“Why are you writing?” you ask, a flicker of panic crossing his face at your question. “I’m not asking what you’re writing. Just why you’re doing it.” 
“Because…it…makes it better. Helps.”
“You’re working on it. You’re doing things you’ve been taught will help you get better and that’s why it’s not a problem. You love me and I love you and we are working on ways to be better people because we love each other. Right?” 
“I do… want to be better for you,” he says, pressing his own hand over his heart. 
“And for you?”
A small smile crosses his lips. “And for me.” 
You match his smile, stepping close so you can wrap your arms around him. “I love you now and I’ll love you when you love yourself too.” His arms tighten around you. “I can’t wait,” you finish. 
MINHO — you’re afraid of the dark
“400,” you announce, grinning at your boyfriend across the table.
A grumble of thunder distracts his attention to the window behind you before he looks at you again. “Why the fuck is it 400?”
“I own all 4,” you say, pointing to your monopoly cards.
“This game is stupid.”
“It was invented as a critique of landlords and capitalism, it’s meant to be stupid.”
“Be a nice landlord and give me a free pass.”
“No. Pay up.”
He grumbles, slapping the money in your palm just as your apartment goes dark. You yelp, dropping the paper money and reaching blindly across the table until you feel your boyfriends arm.
“Blackout,” he says, stating the obvious. He stands from the table before you have a proper grip, leaving you stranded. You stand, feeling around the table for him.
“Where are you? Minho?”
“Just getting my phone,” he replies, already sounding much too far away.
You reach out into the darkness, relying purely on your memory of your apartment to navigate. “Come back, please. Minho! Please.”
“Boo,” he whispers, right at your side. You grip his arm, too relieved to be mad at him for attempting to make you jump. The screen from his phone lights up his face, then he turns on his torch.
“I’m gonna find some candles, you wanna stay here?”
“No.”
“I can get your phone? Won’t be dark.”
“Wanna come.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Poor baby.”
“Shut up.”
You keep your arm on his as he leads you through to the kitchen, standing right by him as he crouches down to dig through a drawer. You hold the torch for him until he stands, holding a few candles and a matchbox.
“Where do you wanna set up camp? Are we finishing the game?”
You shake your head.
“Bath?” he suggests.
“In the dark?”
He holds the candles up. “Come on.”
He leads you to the bathroom and you’re forced to let go of him as he sets up the candles and leans into the tub to turn the water on. You turn to look behind you occasionally, the pitch black hallway making you feel uneasy.
Minho’s breath tickles your neck as he comes to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Would you like help?” he asks, fingers moving to fiddle with the buttons on your jeans.
You look up at the dark doorway. “Could you... shut that?”
He kisses your cheek then moves around you to shut the door as you pull your clothes off. The room is barely lit, the reflection of the candles in the mirror making the small bathroom seem much bigger. He pulls his shirt over his head as he approaches you.
“You’re alright, I’ve got you. Yeah?” You nod and he leans around you to turn the water off. “Hop in.”
You lower yourself into the warm water, watching as your boyfriend removes the rest of his clothes. You shuffle aside to make room as he joins you, lying back so his head rests on the soft neck rest you’d bought him for christmas. He hold his arms up, beckoning you onto him. “C’mere.”
You climb over him, pressing your chest against his and resting your head on his shoulder—just above the waterline. His arms wrap around you.
“Good?” he asks.
You close your eyes, surrounded by warmth. The darkness feels far away. “Mm, good.” 
CHANGBIN — he accidentally hurts you
It was an old injury, so old you’d only ever mentioned it in passing once. You’d get a twinge in your wrist occasionally but apart from that, you practically forgot about it yourself. That’s why when your boyfriend challenges you to an arm wrestle, you don’t hesitate to say yes. You were equally competitive, you challenged each other to silly little games constantly. 
“You’re not gonna let me win?” 
“Have I ever?” 
“Fair.” You settle yourself over the counter, opposite him. He presses his palm to the smooth surface, offering an example for you to mirror. He grasps your hand in his, pulling you over the counter a little more so he can press a kiss to the back of your hand. “Ok, ready,” he says, allowing you to resume your starting position. 
“What’s that?” you ask, pointing over his shoulder with your free hand. As soon as he turns his head you start, pulling with all your strength. You manage to get him halfway down to the counter before he stops you, easily turning the tables. He puts more strength into it than he needs to, thrown off by your headstart. A sharp pain runs up your arm as your hand slams into the counter. 
You pull your hand back to your chest, cradling it against your body as you scrunch your eyes shut—waiting for the pain to dull. It’ll pass, it’ll pass… you repeat to yourself. A soft touch on your shoulder alerts you to the fact Changbin has moved around the counter to your side. “Just a sec,” you mutter, unable to speak properly until the pain has dulled. 
“Let me see,” he says, sounding stoic. He sounds so calm that you’re completely caught off guard when you look up at him and see his eyes watery. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him cry. It’s so shocking it distracts you entirely from the now dull wrist pain. 
You let him lift your hand gently as you watch his face. “Can you move it?” he says, inspecting your skin as if tracking down the source of your pain would remedy it. 
“Yeah, it’s fine. It’s just that old injury flaring up.” You pull your hand from him easily, the hold he has on you so gentle it offers no resistance. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. 
You lift his chin with your fingers, his gaze pointed towards the floor. “Was just karma for trying to cheat,” you say, a small smile on your face as you attempt to lighten the mood. 
It doesn’t work, your boyfriend's eyes fix on your wrist—his eyes reminding you of a kicked puppy. You give him no warning when you jump on him, wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands come to support you naturally, a reflexive response to the way you’d greet him every day. 
“Wasn’t your fault,” you mumble against his neck. “I’d forgotten about it too, honestly. S’okay.” 
“Does it still hurt?” 
You pull back from him enough to hold the inside of your wrist up to his mouth. His eyes flick between yours, confused for a moment. Then he brings his lips to your skin, pressing a soft kiss to your wrist. 
“Not anymore,” you whisper, offering him a small smile before replacing your wrist with your lips—pressing lightly against his. 
HYUNJIN — he thinks you don’t love him as much as he loves you
Your boyfriend was a hopeless romantic. You loved that about him, truly. The only problem was when you felt like you struggled to meet his expectations; when you didn’t express your love in a way that fit with his love language. He would wilt. 
“Jinnie? Please talk to me,” you encourage, lifting the blanket from your boyfriend's head. He rolls over to face the wall, ignoring you. You sigh, lying down next to him—resting your hands under your head as you stare at his back. 
“It’s okay,” he says, still facing the wall. “I love you more than you love me, I just have to…accept it.” 
You reach to grab his shoulder, forcing him to roll onto his back so you can crawl over him. You stroke his forehead gently, brushing away a non-existent lock of hair—a habit you hadn’t yet abandoned since he’d cut his hair short. “Stop saying that, it hurts me.” 
His brows pull together as his plush lips press together firmly. “You said you needed space.” 
“Yes, that is what I said. I didn’t say ‘I love you less than you love me’.” 
He looks confused but he shifts a little, bringing his hands up to rest against your thighs. “I’ve never wanted space from you. I want you always.” 
His cheeks are rosy and you can’t help brushing your thumbs across them, cradling his face in your hands. “If I had to see anyone else as much as I see you, I’d lose my mind. It’s because I love you so much that I ask for my own space so rarely,” you finish. 
“Do I bother you? Is that why you asked?” 
“Sometimes anything external irritates me. Anything. My clothes on my skin, a notification on my phone. I just need to be alone sometimes, completely. No notifications, no sound, no other person. Even you. Even though you’re my favourite person ever.” 
“Ever?”
“Ever, ever,” you smile, moving one of your thumbs to brush over his lips. You pull his bottom lip down gently, he’s much more relaxed now. “We are different people, hm? It’d be boring if we were exactly the same.” 
“Mm,” he agrees, pulling you down against him. You rest your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heart as you rise and fall gently with his breath. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Sometimes…I get…scared that you could never feel…as much as I do. So one day you’ll just…have had enough of me and because I know that won’t happen for me…it feels like…a clock is ticking down.” 
“You have to trust me. If you really love me, you’ll trust me when I tell you how I feel. I promise I’ll always be honest, hm?” 
“Yeah,” he says, the vibration of his voice in his chest against your ear. 
“I promise I love you,” you say, lifting your head to whisper against his lips. 
“I promise I love you, too.” 
JISUNG — takes care of you when you’re drunk
You stumble up the steps, fiddling with your keys as your friend drives away. You drop them just as the door opens, stumbling forward into Jisungs arms as you lose your balance trying to bend down. He catches you, holding you upright until you're steady. Then he bends down, snatching the keys and poking his head out to look down the street. 
“Where’s your friend?” 
You smile. “Left.” 
He frowns. “Before I opened the door?” 
You reach out to stroke his hair. “You look so cute when you’re worried.” You kick your shoes off, stumbling into your apartment until you find the couch. “What time is it?” you mumble, struggling not to fall sideways and sleep right there in the living room. 
Your roommate drops the keys in the little box near the door before following you, dropping to his knees at your feet. You reach to pet his head again. “You’re a good friend,” you slur, giggling when he frowns. He lets you pull the corners of his mouth up into a smile then he stands, holding his hand out to help you up. 
“Bed,” he says, grunting a little as he pulls you up—your legs practically jelly. You fall into his arms, resting your head on his shoulder. You almost fall asleep just trying to walk to your room, collapsing onto your bed the second Jisung releases you. You close your eyes, drifting in and out of consciousness as Jisung moves around the room. 
He’s leaning over you, trying to touch your face. “Sleep,” you mumble, attempting to push his hand away. He holds your hand down on the bed. 
“Just let me clean this off, yeah?” he says, attempting to wipe the makeup off your face. You relent, going limp to let him work. 
“Sungie?” 
“Mm?”
“You’re a good friend.” 
“You’re completely off your head,” he laughs. “Will you remember this tomorrow?” 
“Maaaybe.” 
“Maybe,” he repeats, the cloth against your face halting for a moment. “Did you…meet anyone tonight?” he asks, resuming his makeup removal service. 
“My friends,” you mumble. 
“I meant…ya know…like flirted with anyone.” 
You giggle, reaching for Jisung’s arm. “Do you flirt, Sungie?” 
“No.” 
“Whyy?”
“There’s no one I want to flirt with.” 
You pout, sitting up and squishing his cheeks between your fingers. “That’s sad, poor Sungie.” 
“I’m not sad. I’m happy.” 
“You are?” 
He reaches up to smooth down your hair. “Mm. I'm happy if you’re happy.” 
“What if I’m sad?”
“Then I’ll find what’s making you sad and take it away.” 
“You’re a good friend,” you yawn, falling back down onto your pillows. He leans down to press a kiss to your head. You reach out to grab his hand as he stands to leave. “Sungie?”
“Yes?” 
“Am I a good friend?” 
“You’re a good everything.” 
“...a good everything?” you mumble through another yawn, closing your eyes as Jisung intertwines your fingers. 
“Mm. You’re everything.” 
FELIX — you’re burnt out from uni/work
“What do you want for dinner?” your boyfriend asks gently. He’d been overly gentle with you all day, treating you like a cornered kitten. You loved him, but every question he asked you was wearing away at you. He’d suggested going to your favourite park, the colourful flowers and gentle breeze often did your mindset wonders. You didn’t want to get dressed. He’d put on your comfort film, the background noise was nice—but not enough to distract you from the heavyweight in your chest. 
“I don’t care.” 
“Pizza?” he asks, knowing it was your favourite—your go-to option when you were feeling low. You say nothing, closing your eyes and resting your head back against the couch. 
“Wanna go for a drive and pick it up?” Felix asks, making the decision for you. 
“No.” 
His gentle fingers trace across your knuckles, where you are gripping a pillow to your chest. You relax your grip. 
“I’ll order then,” he says, sounding a little dejected. You lift your head. It feels heavy on your neck. You fall into your boyfriend's lap, head resting against his thighs.  
“Thank you,” you whisper. His free hands come to your hair, stroking the strands gently just above your ear. 
“Anything you need?” 
“Just you,” you answer, closing your eyes again. The sound of the tv is the only noise in the room for the next 20 minutes, your boyfriend's fingers continuing their gentle ministrations in your hair. 
When the doorbell rings he lifts your head gently, replacing his lap with a pillow so he can answer the door. He’s gone not even a minute. That’s all the time you need for your eyes to fill with tears, suddenly completely overwhelmed. He places the pizza on the table then kneels by your side.
“Okay?” 
You open your mouth to speak, unable to get anything past your lips but an ugly sob. He jumps into action, lifting your head so he can resume his position on the couch. You press your face to his legs for a moment before lifting yourself to climb into his lap, wrapping yourself around him. “So tired,” you sob, his hand stroking up and down your back. 
“I know, baby. I’m sorry. I wish—I wish I could take it away.” 
“Don’t—” you heave in a breath, already struggling to breathe through your uncontrollable sobbing. “Don’t leave.” 
“Shhh. Not going anywhere, promise. Right here…just breathe.” His voice wobbles a little, prompting you to pull back to look at his face. “Breathe for me,” he finishes. His eyes are watery to match yours, his cheeks already wet from where his tears had spilled over. 
You bring your hands to his cheeks, attempting to wipe them away. “Please don’t cry,” you sob. 
He huffs out a laugh through his tears. “You cried first.” 
“I didn’t mean to.” 
His eyes soften, pulling your head back down to rest on his shoulder. “I know.” He lets you cry into his shoulder until your head hurts, finally lifting you from his lap so he can bring you a box of tissues. He takes one for himself. You take in the scene you both make, blowing your noses as your pizza sits cold on the coffee table. 
Felix looks up at you, his nose bright red. You burst into laughter, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his neck again. “What’s funny?” he asks between sniffles. 
“Just love you.”
SEUNGMIN — he comes home to find you sick
You’re faintly aware of a knock at the door, too unwell to even consider getting up to answer it. Instead you groan as you roll over, reaching for the bottle of water on the ground by the couch. You struggle to sit up, lifting your head just enough to sip from the lip of the bottle. The door opens just as you look across the room longingly at the fan, wishing you had the energy to turn it on and drag it over to blow directly in your face. 
“Oh, you’re home. Why didn’t you—” your boyfriend pauses, taking in your sweaty form sprawled out on the couch. “What’s wrong?” 
You’re suddenly overwhelmed, the exhaustion from looking after yourself all day catching up with you. You reach out towards him as your face crumbles, a sob escaping your throat. You don’t see him approach you, your eyes squeezed closed as you feel his arms wrap around you. He pulls you into his lap, guiding your head to his shoulder. 
“You’re sick? Why didn’t you call?” 
“You were busy,” you gasp between sobs. 
He’s quiet, letting you gather yourself. It doesn’t take long, you don’t have the energy to cry. When you’re quiet he speaks again. “What do you need?” 
“Don’t wanna be sick anymore,” you whine, knowing he couldn’t actually take it away but feeling much like you did as a child—begging your mum to make it stop. 
“I know,” he says, palm rubbing up and down your back. “What else do you need?” 
“Sleep.” 
He stands, lifting you with him. Your legs dangle, too tired to cling to him like you usually do. He lowers your legs to the ground briefly so he can hook his arm under your legs and lift you properly. You wrap your arms around his neck weakly, relying on him entirely to hold you against him. 
“Should’ve called,” he mutters, turning to manoeuvre through your bedroom doorway. He lowers you gently to the bed then disappears into your ensuite bathroom. You close your eyes, a small pained sound escaping your throat. 
A cold cloth presses against your forehead and your eyes flutter open to take in the worried face of your boyfriend. “Have you taken anything?” he asks. 
“This morning.” 
He stands quickly, leaving the room without a word. When he returns he’s carrying a bottle of water and a small cup. “Swallow these,” he instructs, sitting down at the edge of the bed so he can help you sit. You do what he says, swallowing each tablet individually with a mouthful of water. 
He places his hand at the back of your head to lower you back against the pillow. “Sleep.” 
“Can’t sleep without you,” you mutter. He pulls his shirt over his head then crawls up next to you, wrapping his arm around you so he can pull you into him. “Do you think it’ll be gone when I wake?” you ask, trying to focus on the warm pressure of his body against your back. 
“Definitely,” he answers, sounding completely sure of himself. You close your eyes as his lips press to your neck, drifting out of consciousness almost immediately. 
JEONGIN — you panic while learning to drive
You’d been putting it off for years, the anxiety of learning to drive completely overwhelming. It wasn’t until your boyfriend offered to teach you that you finally worked up the courage. He made everything enjoyable, every grocery trip felt like a fun day out if you were with him.
“You’re ready to go out on the street,” he encourages again as your hands grip the wheel tightly. You’d only managed driving around an empty carpark so far. It was late on a Tuesday night, the streets were practically empty. 
“I…don’t think I am.” 
“I know you are.” 
You turn to look at your boyfriend, his eyes shining behind his round glasses. You suck in a deep breath, attempting to loosen your grip on the wheel a little. You ease your foot off the break, rolling forward slightly before pressing the accelerator down slowly. Jeongin is quiet next to you, patient as always. 
When you reach the exit you slam the breaks on, suddenly panicked by the open road ahead of you. “We’re going left,” your boyfriend says, still sounding totally calm and confident. 
“I can’t.” 
“Yes, you can.” 
“I can’t, I really can’t.” 
He rests his hand on your thigh. “Baby? Hey,” You take one hand off the wheel to grasp his hand. “You got it,” he finishes. 
Your heart races in your chest as you grip the wheel with both hands again, a shiver running through your body. Jeongin talks to you as you turn out into the street, giving you calm instructions and gentle encouragement. It isn’t until a car pulls out and follows directly behind you that you start to really panic, their headlights shining directly into the car. 
“The car,” you mutter, panic evident in your voice. 
“Ignore them,” your boyfriend says. “You can turn left at the next street.” Your eyes keep flicking to the rear view mirror, another shiver running through your body. Then they honk and you break too fast, swerving to pull up the side of the road. The car honks again as they speed past you, leaving you gasping for breath as you try to stay calm. 
A hand gently rests over yours and you look up to the man sitting in the passenger seat. He pulls his hoodie over his head. “Want me to take over?” he asks. You nod, pulling the handbrake on and stepping out of the car. 
He meets you half-way around the car, pulling his soft hoodie over your head and helping you push your arms through the sleeves. He’d often give you an item of his clothing when you were anxious, the smell of him close to you calming your nerves. The fabric is soft against your skin and you press the sleeve to your face as you climb into the passenger seat. 
You’re both quiet as your boyfriend drives, your heart slowing back to a normal rate as you watch the world go by. It isn’t until the car pulls into an unfamiliar car park that you realise you haven’t been heading home. Jeongin presses a button to open the sunroof then turns the engine off. He gestures to the back seat and you climb over the centre console, your boyfriend following close behind. 
He lays himself across the back seat and holds his arms open, beckoning you to join him. You press yourself against him, head resting against his shoulder—his arms around you prevent you from falling off the seats. You have a perfect view up to the clear night sky, your boyfriend's soft breath tickling your skin.
“You did well,” he says, breaking the silence finally. 
You huff. “I freaked out.”  
“You overcame your fear and drove on the roads,” he presses his lips to your temple. “Proud of you,” he mumbles against your skin. 
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a/n: some of these are snippets from longer wips! may be seen again in longer form in the future...
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please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!
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