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cherrychilli · 5 months

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Eddie Munson x AFAB reader, friends to lovers, mentions of nudity, brief mention of masturbation (m). Basically, Eddie finds you sleeping naked in his bed.

A/N: Idk I've had this idea in my head for too long now and I need to exorcise it out of me with this little drabble or I'll never be able to get on with my life.

Forest Hills trailer park wasn't your usual stop after clocking out of work but after the day you’ve had you don’t have it in you to wait for the next bus back to your apartment. Your place is 30 minutes away but the journey is sure to take even longer in the current downpour.

Staying over at the trailer wasn't anything new. A spare key was entrusted to you years ago and you made use of it on days like this to crash at Eddie’s for convenience sake. The key came with the promise that you were welcome to anything you needed even if both Eddie and Wayne were away – shower, food, an extra change of clothes, what have you, and you needed them all today.

With Wayne out of town for a few days and Eddie due back in two hours you sink into auto pilot, weary down to the bone from your shift. Maybe that’s why it doesn’t feel as weird as it probably should when you started to undress in their kitchenette, hanging your work clothes over the back of a nearby chair, rummaging through the fridge in your bra and panties for a quick bite to eat before heading for the shower.

There wasn’t much in it besides beer since Wayne hadn’t been around to stock it. Eddie always preferred ordering take out over getting groceries – something you were going to nag him for again when you had the strength to do so.

Cereal it would have to be.

You located a box inside one of the cupboards, tipping the wheaty, sugary contents straight into your mouth without bothering with a bowl and spoon. It’s not lost on you how similarly you’re acting to Eddie right down to the unruly state of half undress, wiping crumbs off your lips with the back of your hand. If you finished off with a belch it'd be like he never left the trailer this morning.

The messy mouthfuls of cereal prove enough to silence the toad’s croak of hunger that'd been gurgling noisily inside your belly, putting the box away.

Traipsing through, feet dragging, you threw your clothes into the washer next along with your underwear, completely nude now in the Munson trailer as you made your way to the shower – but not before reaching out for Eddie's Garfield mug that sat on a nearby shelf, turning it around so that the cartoon cat's lazy smirk no longer faced you. For your modesty.

You try to keep the shower brisk, not wanting to use up all the hot water but with the way it sprays down on your aching body, the steam and heat combo soothing your poor sore muscles, it’s so blissful that you have to keep yourself from nodding off right there.

You did make use of Eddie’s body wash, some spicy, woodsy smelling thing in a jet-black bottle but you didn't dare use the two in one shampoo that sat in their shower caddy. It might have worked fine for Eddie and his wild mane but you knew better than to apply the stuff to your own hair. Fortunately, experience had taught you to carry a travel sized bottle filled with your own shampoo whenever you stayed over, working over your locks in a lather scented with cranberries and vanilla.

Stamina depleting by the second, toweling off and brushing your teeth takes the last sliver of energy out of you. Eyelids slipping, movements sluggish, limbs feeling too heavy for your own body to hold up – you’re shutting down whether you like it or not.

Dropping the damp towel on his bedroom floor, you intended to change, you really did. You’d even picked out one of Eddie’s washed t-shirts and a pair of boxers out of the laundry and set them down at the foot of the bed to put on before you made yourself comfortable but that’s not what happened.

Still nude, you crawl into bed, seeking warmth and soft comfort, numbed down to a kind of tunnel vision with rest being your one and only goal.

It feels all the more natural because you’re used to sleeping naked in your own bed, much too tired to remember that you’re not in your bed, draping a blanket that doesn't belong to you over your spent body, surrendering to sleep seconds after your head hits the pillow.

It'd still been raining when Eddie returns later. Dragging himself through the trailer, nearly as worn down as you had been, shaking the excess water out of his hair like a dog trying to get dry.

The smell of your shampoo still lingering in the air tells him you're there, finding you curled up in his bed, all bundled up to your neck. The sight makes him smile.

It doesn't take too long for him to join you, following a similar routine – a quick bite with the addition of a beer and then a shower, only he doesn't skip out on clothing himself in his PJ's first.

If he’d shared the blanket with you he might have found out about your lack of dress sooner but as the gentleman that he can sometimes be, he pulls out a spare blanket from the closet so as to not wake you, prolonging the discovery. Being friends for so long meant that sharing a bed was never awkward even after you'd became adults.

That was until the next morning came.

It’s not the stream of morning light brightening from a cool blue to a warm amber peeking in between the curtains that wakes Eddie, or even the tinny smack of his neighbor’s broken screen door gusting open just a few feet away from his bedroom window. It’s the warmth of your ass pressed flush against his crotch and his nose nestled in your sweet-smelling hair that pulls him out of a dream he wont be able to recall later if he tried.

He shifts closer, eyes cracking open, remembering the tiny bottle of shampoo sitting on the bathroom counter. Remembering the new toothbrush placed in the cup next to his own. Remembering the powder blue towel that neither he nor Wayne ever used laying on his bedroom floor.

And then he remembers that he’s not alone.

Oh...

And then he wishes that he was.

Panic snaps up like a beartrap around Eddie when he realizes he's hard – his thick, throbbing erection pressed right up against your body.

Growing clammy, cold sweat beads on the back of his neck but he’s in luck because you haven’t noticed yet, still sound asleep.

This close together, he knows the slightest movement could rouse you. But what was the alternative? Wait it out? Hope to hell his boner goes away? Fat fucking chance. Not when the soft swell of your ass and your body heat alone had him questioning how he could ever go back to his calloused fist after this.

Carefully, desperately, he tries to inch back without waking you but just as he feared, you begin to stir. Your back arches instinctively, seeking out his warm, solid frame even in your sleep.

Shit shit shit.

The covers slip as you shift, your bare shoulders coming into view, eyes starting to flutter open. With no other option, Eddie swiftly rolls on to his back, his hard on no longer pressed up against you but the problem persists.

“Oh, morning”, you greet him through a yawn, pulling an arm out to rub at your eyes, blanket slipping lower but the frantic boy hasn’t noticed yet, too busy whipping his pillow out from under him to place over his lap.

“Uh-hey. Shower’s free if you wanna go first”, he offers quickly, smiling hard, hoping to subtly usher you out because he's too afraid to get up and risk you getting a load of the tent in his pants if he were to go ahead of you.

“Thanks”, you yawn again, still occupied with rubbing at your sleepy eyes to notice your best friend's pale face turning beet fucking red in an instant as you clamber out of bed, blankets no longer concealing you.

Eddie doesn’t know where to look first. His eyes dart everywhere, every bare inch of you on display. So much soft, naked skin it’s making him short circuit.

His gaze eagerly travels over the slope of your breasts as they jiggle gently with your movements, taking in your soft nipples, moving down over your belly and hips, noticing a few new freckles and beauty marks there along the way to the soft curls between your legs.

His erection digs into the pillow, brain dangerously close to fizzing because he’d been pressed up against you like that all night and not even known it.

A shiver works its way through you, making you question why it feels so drafty in his room all of a sudden. You turn back to ask Eddie if there’s anything wrong with the heating, catching the shocked expression on his face.

Looking down, you're met with the sight of your nude body, breasts bare, no underwear. It's a good thing the occupants of the trailer park liked to mind their own business, even if sometimes you thought they did so to a fault because in any other neighborhood your piercing screech would have had everyone within earshot dialing up the cops.

The scream ricochets off the walls at an ear ringing volume, causing Eddie to jolt and lose his balance, falling out of bed while you leapt back in. Grabbing his spare pillow, you press one half against your chest and squeeze the rest between your thighs to shield yourself.

Now he slaps his hands over his eyes.

---

More than anything, you try so hard to push it aside. To pretend that it hadn't happened but it looms over you like a cloud on the brink of bursting with rain.

After three whole days of walking around eggshells around each other it's Eddie who breaks first.

"I can't stand this I don't know what else to do, Can we just talk about it please?"

“Eddie…", you sigh, a gentle warning.

"So what if I saw you naked? you saw my boner!...sort of. I mean, I guess that doesn't exactly make us even but it has to count for something, right? you're not alone in this"

You immediately set your wide eyes on the only other patrons in the diner to see if they’d overheard – two older women swapping pictures of their grandchildren over coffee and cheesecake. When neither of them take a pause in the middle of cooing about little Tommy's third Birthday or little Emily's first day of Kindergarten you redirect your attention back to Eddie.

“Eddie! Keep your voice down!”, you whisper shout at him from across the booth. "There are literal grandmother's here!"

He rolls his eyes. Not mean spirited, just unconcerned by the ladies and what they may or may not have overheard.

And then, even though no one’s paying either of you any attention, you lean closer over your half-finished key lime pie, one hand shielding the side of your face like you’re trying to avoid getting recognized by an ex who’s just walked in.

"I'm so embarrassed...please can we just drop it?", you plead, voice hushed.

He gives you this look of mild incredulity. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Trust me", and the inflection in his tone almost gives him away, prompting him to double back immediately.

The last thing he wants is for you to feel more uncomfortable than you already do. So he doesn't need you to catch on that he's got every moment of your unintended strip tease memorized. Or that he likes to replay what he's since thought of as the best 10 seconds of his life over and over again when he's fucking his fist in the shower.

“I just mean that it's nothing to be embarrassed by. It could have happened to anyone. Who among us hasn’t napped in just their birthday suit before, am I right?” he finishes with a slight wince, knowing none of this is exactly helpful.

And you know he’s only trying to be nice in his own, sweet, bumbling way but you still feel terrible.

"I don't know if I can shake this feeling", you cast your eyes down, looking too close to despondent for his liking.

"Listen I- I don't know how to fix this but I want to. Please just tell me what I can do and I'll do it, okay?"

God, he's sweet and it makes you feel a little flustered being on the receiving end of that gentle stare, needing to shift the mood lest you drown in all that earnestness pooling in his eyes.

It's moments like this that call for a bad joke to cut the tension, right? some momentary and well meaning deflection before you're ready to address the matter at hand again.

Letting out a half hearted laugh, you make your best attempt to inject some humor into the situation.

"I don't know. Maybe it might help if you got naked too", you nervously scraped your fork against the buttery graham cracker crust of your pie, dislodging a few golden crumbs.

It was so very clearly a joke. At least you had thought so. Eddie? not so much.

His brown eyes go wide, looking scandalized, his voice coming out a little more quite than you're used to.

"What?"

"I mean, I showed you mine after all", you tried again in a cadence that was wholly unserious but once again, he fails to catch on.

"You want me to get naked for you?"

You should correct him and you mean to but before you're able to do just that, something about the way he's staring at you makes you want to match his seriousness. The fact that he didn't say no right away strikes you as weirdly intriguing.

"You don't have to", you clarify, adding, "It's just that – well, you asked and I think it could maybe help? to really get us on even ground?”

The words that come out don't feel like you own – foreign to your ears even though they're said in your voice, with your own lips forming them and your own tongue curling around every syllable.

What the hell am I doing?

Eddie pauses. Seconds drag on like nails on a chalkboard as he taps a ringed finger thoughtfully on the edge of his empty plate smudged with faint traces of cream cheese and lime zest.

"Fine. On one condition", he leans back, arms crossing over his chest, smiling wide and megawatt bright.

Oh my god is this really happening?

“...Yeah?”

"You're going to undress me"

---

Part two? who knows. Certainly not I.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things smut #eddie munson x reader

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leqonsluv3r · 8 days

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husband!leon kennedy

—re!4 husband leon x pregnant!wife!reader, a headcanon list

based on this one-shot request

masterlist taglist

an: decided to give you guys this hc list since you guys liked the oneshot so much, giving you guys a little peek of what happens after the oneshot. i’m finally moved and currently unpacking at my new place, i’ll be working on requests and opening them back up soon. hope you guys enjoy, pls reblog and like if you do <3

husband!leon who buys you all the food your body deserves. anything for his wife and his growing baby inside of you.

husband!leon who helps you plan and decorate the nursery for your child. he’s just happy he gets to be a dad, especially with you involved.

husband!leon who drives you to all of your doctors appointments, always having tears pool in his eyes whenever he sees your guys growing child on the ultrasound.

husband!leon who always lets you pick whatever you want for dinner, even if it’s not something he wants. as long as your happy and you get what you want.

husband!leon who massages your swollen feet after you complain how much they hurt. rubbing your calves and legs just to make sure your comfy. he wants what’s best for you.

husband!leon who rubs your belly when you both are laying in bed together, pressing kisses to it and talking to the unborn baby. he knows the baby can’t fully hear him yet but he’s too excited.

husband!leon who helps you pick out stuff for the baby to wear after you find out the gender. cute little onesies and footies, stuffed animals and whatever else your heart desires. only the best for his wife and his baby.

husband!leon who hangs up all the ultrasounds up on the fridge like a kid displaying artwork, he likes watching his baby grow. he’s still having a hard time believing he’s a father even if the evidence is right in front of him.

husband!leon who will go down on you because you can’t even touch yourself, making you moan and whimper. he knows the hormones make you more susceptible and more horny, he doesn’t mind one bit. knowing he’s the one that gets to ravish you when you’ve been pent up.

husband!leon who loves the fact that he can still fuck you like your not carrying his kid, practically crying on his cock as he pounds into you, rubbing your swollen tits and pressing kisses all over your body, caressing your belly. he knows you love it, giving each other what you want.

husband!leon who is the king of aftercare, especially when your pregnant. he helps you take a bath afterwards. giving you bubbles and even going so far as to getting in with you and massaging your back.

husband!leon who watches you struggle with the simple tasks you used to do before you were pregnant. if you need something from a shelf because it hurts for you to reach, he grabs it for you. if you can’t stop crying over the most simplest things, he hands you some tissues and holds your hand. he’s supporting you the whole way through this because you need it.

husband!leon who lets you lay on the couch on days your not feeling the best, letting you watch whatever your heart desires. even if it’s something he can’t even stand like the bachelorette or some bad reality tv show.

husband!leon who watches you open presents for the baby shower. your happy, opening little onesies and gifts from your guys friends and family. watching your mom cry happy tears when you open her gift; your stuffed bear from when you were a baby.

husband!leon who watches you hug your mom, stuffed bear still in your hand and tears pouring out of your eyes. he knows that you have been dealing with a lot going through this pregnancy and he’s just happy that your getting some joy out of it.

husband!leon who lets you have whatever weird craving your wanting. even if it’s pickles and frosting or peanut butter and graham crackers. he lets you have whatever you want, within reason, letting you have the cravings that make you and the baby happy.

husband!leon who when your doing the dishes, your water breaks. he doesn’t think first, he acts. he gets the bag that he’d packed and grabs you. he’s nervous but he’s doing his best to push his own nerves aside and get you and the baby to the hospital.

husband!leon who practically speeds down the interstate to get you to the hospital on time. weaving through a couple cars and speeding, all the while your hand is squeezing his in death grip as he just tells you to breathe through the contractions.

husband!leon who gets you to the hospital in one piece, your hand almost breaking his where he holds it. letting the nurse guide you into the delivery room to get you prepped for labor. your eyes are wide with pain and nerves, leon just keeps standing next to you, holding onto your hand and pressing kisses to your head the entire time.

husband!leon who watches as you push, push, and push over and over again. your doing so great and he’s so proud of you, being able to bring a life into this world, he’s never seen anything like it. he just rubs your back, the doctor kneeling in between your legs and helping the baby come out.

husband!leon who watches as the doctor tells you the babies almost here, your exhausted frame trying to push the baby out the rest of the way. he mumbles praises into your hair and ear, telling you that you can do it. you can push the baby out, you can get through this.

husband!leon who watches you do the final two pushes, the doctor helping the baby come out. leon hears the small cries before seeing the small baby being cradled in the doctors hands, his eyes watering at the sight. he looks over at you and sees how exhausted but happy you are, your eyes watering just like his.

husband!leon who watches as the nurse cleans and swaddles your guys baby, bringing it over to you. your eyes crying big tears. the baby looks just like the both of you combined, having your eyes and his cheeks. he sits gently next to you on the bed, rubbing your head. he admires you and your guys baby, how beautiful it is. how you did it, despite you thinking you couldn’t, he knew you could.

husband!leon who gets to hold the baby for the first time while you rest, talking to the baby in soft whispers, the babies only soft coos in response. “i’m your daddy, yeah…yeah, i’m your daddy…” he murmurs and watches as the baby wraps the tiny hand around his finger. “so cute…so cute…” he smiles as tears leak down his face.

husband!leon who days after you’ve healed from having the baby, you all three get to go home. leon goes from room to room with the baby, showing it its nursery and giving it a tour, even if his child isn’t going to remember this. he does it all the same.

husband!leon who changes his first diaper in the days following, who does it with pride. knowing that all his practice of learning the past nine months are going to use. he lets you rest and sleep whenever you have time in between feeding and bonding with the baby.

husband!leon who loves that he’s a husband and a father, he gets to watch his child grow. he gets to have that luxury and it wasn’t something he always thought was possible. and with you, it’s more achievable and he loves you even more for that if it’s even possible.

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improbable-outset · 28 days

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📄 𝐈𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.8k (help???)

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Married couple, Wife!Reader, burnout, overstimulation (not sexually), arguing, angst followed by fluff, kiss and make up, virginal fingering, kisses galore, EVENTUAL SMUT, pregnancy sex, bit of body worship (he loves your pregnant body) cowgirl position, sensory deprivation sex.

𝐀/𝐍: I poured my heart into this one, not that I don’t always do but this one in particular just hits closer to home. And yes it’s a vent fic so very very self indulgent.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re tired. He’s tired. There’s only so much stress you can withstand before you reach your tipping point. Luckily your husband is here to keep you grounded

It started off with a throbbing in your head and as irritating as it was, it wasn’t bad enough to disrupt your daily routine. But as the week rolled on, the throbbing sensation began to get worse.

You were becoming easily irritated and it didn’t help with the workload you had to tackle. Even Miguel noticed a change in your mood but whenever he would bring it up and ask you about it, you would deflect his questions and tell him you were fine.

You couldn’t bear the thought of burdening him when your struggles especially when he had his own responsibilities and duties to fulfill.

You knew that if you admitted the stress you were feeling, he would insist that you rest, which was the last thing you needed, especially with how much you needed to get done this week.

You tried your best to ignore the nerves that were stretching to their limits now, but it was proven more difficult with each passing day. You would feel a sense of dread as soon as you got out of bed, mentally bracing yourself for the overwhelming day you had to face.

Your mind was preoccupied now as you reached over the high shelf for the spice jar. Your stomach was jutted out with the new life brewing inside of you, making it harder for you to manoeuvre around.

Just as your fingers brushed against the jar you were after, a sudden voice tore through the room, snapping you out of your trance.

“¿Qué dije sobre pedirme ayuda?” Miguel called out before he went over and stood behind you to take the spice jar you were reaching for. “What if something fell on you?”

“I don’t need help,” you insisted, reaching over to reclaim the jar back from him.

Miguel arched his brow in mild amusement. “You’re struggling to reach the spices, and you’re saying you don’t need help?”

“I’m fine, I’m trying to make dinner,”

“I know I know. But I’m here now so you don’t need to do that tonight,” You knew he was trying to emphasise the fact that he willingly took the time out of his day just to be with you.

Normally, you would be beyond appreciative towards his gesture. With his duties back at Spider Society HQ breathing down his neck all the time, it was a rarity that you both had an evening together like this.

He would either be saving the city or in another dimension, and although you would still be able to contact him through your watch, it would never be the same as having his physical warmth with you.

But right now, you were driven by your stress and too wrapped up in getting the job done to be in the right state of mind and properly enjoy the night.

“Why not? I can still cook you know,” you resorted, pouring some of the spice in the pot before stirring the content.

“And yet, I don’t want you to.” He said firmly before he turned you around to face him and rested his hands on your growing belly, silently conveying his concern for your wellbeing. “Now go sit,”

As the food continued to bubble on the stove, you retreated from his touch defensively. His face twisted in confusion as you questioned, “Why the hell are you doing that?”

His face fell further at your change in tone, “Doing what? Touching you?”

“No, treating me like I’m a basket case,”

“I’m treating you like the mother of my child. You’re pregnant and over exerting yourself,” he tried to reason with you. You attempted to conceal how much your senses were firing right now.

You couldn’t tell if it was the aroma of the cooking that was making you slightly nauseous but you were starting to feel agitated.

“I’m pregnant, not paralysed Miguel. I’m fully capable of doing this myself,” you could see the frown forming on his face and he definitely picked up the hostility of your tone.

“I never said you weren’t capable but I don't want you doing too much,” he argued back, his voice growing more insistent, mirroring your frustration. He wasn’t going to let your stubbornness sway him, even if it did irk you.

You could feel the heat of your vexation rising in your guts. You hated being interrupted in the kitchen especially when you were making dinner. Even if you were tired, you were still going to stand your ground and continue until you were done.

Throughout the last few days there had been a build up of tension that you have been bottling up and you refused to talk about it with him, even if he did ask you about it.

You had no safe outlet for your emotions and now you can feel it taking a toll on your daily tasks. It was almost palpable and you couldn’t control the sudden outbursts you were throwing at your husband right now.

A small part of you knew that he didn’t deserve this harsh treatment you were giving him. But that meek feeling of self awareness was quickly overshadowed by your clouded mind that was skewing your thoughts, unbeknownst to you.

Out of bitterness, you twisted the knob to switch off the stove before you turned to look at him. His annoyed expression didn’t falter, rather you could see his brows furrowed more. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Turn off the stove?”

“You wanted me to stop, didn’t you?” Now it was your turn to be confused, though you could still feel the lingering coldness.

He was so adamant on you not cooking so why is he still not satisfied when you turn the stove off? What was his problem?

“What are you trying to prove here?” He asked.

The question hit a nerve, the fact that he was insinuating that you had an ulterior motive just by a simple action. It was almost insulting. Was he trying to sound condescending just to throw you off?

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb,”

Ouch.

“Oh please, enlighten me,” There was an obvious edge to your tone and he glowered at that. You could tell he was really starting to get annoyed when you saw his fangs started to emerge from his canines, something that was only stimulated in the height of rage or arousal.

“Cut the sarcasm. You’re purposely getting on my nerves and it’s working. Now, are you going to answer my question?” His voice demanded clarity from you and you weren’t sure if anything you said would satisfy him.

“Like I said, I’m doing as I’m told. Why are you getting mad?” You snapped back. You didn’t want to admit that what he said made the shadow of sympathy you felt early crawl back again.

He wasn’t aware of the emotions you were keeping inside of you and probably thought you were purposely reacting this way just to pull his leg.

“You know damn well that’s not how I meant with my words,” he was practically growling now and you could see the crimson in his eyes flicker like a flame.

With a weary sigh you pinched the bridge of your nose— a habit that you both seemed to share. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this argument now, it was clear that it wasn’t going anywhere.

The throbbing in your head was back, but now it felt like a pounding sensation reverberating in your skull. Without another word, you turned to leave the kitchen leaving the half-cooked food behind on the stove.

“Where are you going?” You heard him call out from the kitchen before he took a few steps in your direction.

“To the room, I lost my appetite,” You headed your way up to the bedroom. You didn’t hear his footsteps following after you as you closed the door behind you.

You climbed into bed with the blanket over you and made yourself as small as your pregnant belly will allow you. There was a sense of bleakness that was shrouding you now— the underlying stress you’ve been feeling was still there but it wasn’t as overbearing.

With the silence in the room, you’d think you’d be able to calm yourself down a little from the heated interaction you just had, but instead your mind was still racing. You couldn’t stop yourself from straining your muscles no matter how hard you tried.

You tightened your grip on the blanket and buried yourself deeper into the sheets, trying to block out as much of the lighting from the room as you could. You didn’t notice Miguel entering the room until you felt an additional weight on the bed beside you.

For a long moment, all you could hear was his steady breathing and the occasional bed creaking before he spoke out of nowhere. “Well, at least the silent treatment is an improvement from earlier,”

The sarcasm was uncalled for especially now. It made your blood boil. To make matters worse, he kept going. His voice, that you always loved hearing, now sounded like an irritating ring in your ear. “Are you just going to hide under the blanket until I forget about everything?”

“Stop talking….please stop talking!” you pleaded, your voice was quivering and on the verge of tears. You felt like you were at a tipping point, standing on the edge of something already breaking.

The sensory overload from the argument along with the tension was still present, and you desperately needed silence.

There was a long pause and your pulse was thudding in your ears. Even if you couldn’t see his face, you could tell he regretted his words just from his silence.

“Do you want me to turn off the lights and go?” His tone quickly switched, a soft caress. You poked your head out of the blanket to look at him.

You felt guilt tugging on your heart after everything that had just happened moments ago. Your husband didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of all of this. The least you could do now was end the night on a civil note.

“Turn off the lights but don’t leave me,” you requested. Without wasting a beat, Miguel got out of bed to turn off the lights before he climbed back in to embrace you.

The room was dark but you could still see his silhouette against the Nueva York city skyline from the bedroom window.

“Could you hold me? Please?”

“Of course,” his voice was a soothing balm against your firing nerves. Swallowing thickly, you pushed the blanket away and moved onto his waiting arms as he leaned against the headboard.

You settled onto his lap and you felt his broad arms wrap around you. Your eyes started to leak with your heated tears and before you could stop yourself, you broke into a sob.

“Just breathe, I’m not going anywhere. Take your time,” He muttered against the crown of your head. You rested your head against his chest with his heart thumping softly near your ear.

The throbbing was starting to ease and the relief that followed after came in waves. All that weeks worth of pent up tensity was released in one night through your tears.

With the absence of the lighting along with the silence, it was easier to reach the mellow state that your body was screaming for.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry,” you rambled, a sense of remorse crashing down on you like a storm.

“It’s okay…I feel like we should talk about some things though,”

“Like what?”

“How we should handle potential fights in our marriage. I don’t really like the way we argue and get at each other's throats so quickly,”

You let his words sink in. The mere thought made your heart ache. The situation would’ve never escalated this far if you hadn't talked to Miguel earlier. Instead you let things boil over.

“It’s my fault…”

“Why do you say that?”

“I kept brushing you off when you wanted to be there for me,” you admitted, a bitter irony taunting your confession.

In retrospect, you’ve witnessed Miguel struggle to open up about his feelings while you were still in the early stages of the relationship.

Even during your marriage, it was a huge step for him to finally be completely emotionally open with you. You’ve noticed how much your relationship has flourished since then and how closer you felt with him.

But now the tables have turned tonight, with you leaving Miguel oblivious to the series of weary emotions you were experiencing. You knew it wasn’t healthy for you or the baby growing inside you to carry such stress alone.

“I noticed the way you were struggling the past few days. I just wish you were more vulnerable with me and not feel like you have to put on a brave face just for my sake,” Miguel explained.

“I dont…I don’t really know where to start,” You tried to rack your brain and coordinate how to express the tension you’ve been feeling the past few days. It was difficult to pinpoint on one thing and string the words together.

“Everything just feels so overwhelming and too much for my brain to handle…even the clock ticking makes me want to rip my head off,” you clutched onto his shirt, a feeble attempt to hold onto your crumbling composure. “I don’t know if it’s the hormones from the pregnancy or a burn out. Or maybe both,”

“I’m leaning towards burn out since you’re showing all the signs, you’re easily irritated and I can see you’re overstimulated from the smell of the cooking to the lighting in the room,”

“Maybe you’re right,” you agreed softly. A lot of issues could be contained just by not saying anything. You seemed to be acutely aware of your own hesitation when it came to voicing your emotions.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to share your feelings with Miguel; rather you didn’t know how to and feared the unknown reaction that may follow. You weren’t used to being this vulnerable.

You knew that you would rather hear Miguel share his emotions, even crying on your shoulder, than have him be silent. It was only fair that you took your own advice. Here you were advocating for openness, while grasping onto your own reticence.

“Could you do me a favour?” You asked in the midst of the silence that was shared between you.

“Of course,”

“I understand that you don’t want me to lift a finger especially while I’m pregnant but could you not try to intervene when I’m in the kitchen. I don’t like sitting around and I want to keep myself busy,”

You could sense the hesitance from him as he drew in a shaky breath before he spoke. “…yeah I can do that”

“You already have a lot on your plate,”

“I do, but promise me that you won’t leave me in the dark when you need something from me,”

“I promise.” You lifted your head from his chest to look at him. “I’m glad we’re on the same page Spiderman,”

Even if your view of him was obscured by the darkness in the room, you could still see his lips twitching up from your comment. “Mhmm that’s not an excuse for me to be a neglectful husband to you. So don’t act coy with me,”

“Oh I know. I’m just finding an excuse to be a smartass,” you teased him further by kissing along his jaw. Feeling his body tense from your touch, even if it was subtle, was a huge ego booster.

“Was that supposed to throw me off or something,” you could hear the groan he was trying to hide at the back of his throat as he spoke and it made your stomach flutter.

“Maybe,”

“Uh huh, you definitely did that on purpose,”

“I’ll do it again,”

“And I’ll kiss you right back,”

“Alright bet,” Before he could retaliate, you were bold enough to lap over his lower lip with your tongue. A low moan could be heard from him in response.

It was rare for you to initiate such a confident move like this but there was an undeniable spark and you didn’t want it to go just yet. The bleak mood from earlier was now forgotten and was replaced with arousal.

You pulled away to reposition yourself so you were fully facing him on your lap, your legs on either side of his hips.

His grip on your waist tightened in response drawing you closer to him until your bump was pressing against his torso. “You have no idea what you got yourself into,”

Finally with a longing that built in your stomach, you leaned in until your lips met in a fervent kiss. The weight of your doubts and anxiety was now completely diminished as you felt a magnitude that pulled you into bliss.

You felt him run his tongue over your lips and you parted them slightly in response. He took this opportunity to deepen the kiss, completely taking over your mouth with a low groan.

As you pulled away, breathless with desire, you couldn’t help but tease, “Too much or not enough?”

To which he responded, “Not even close to enough,”

“Good, then I’ll keep going. You’re not getting the upper hand here,” you were beaming at your own words.

But your confidence was cut short when you noticed his hand reach over and slipped under your pants and past your panties until his fingers were grazing against your folds.

Feeling the air that brushed against your slickness was enough to humble you. You didn’t realise how soaked you were until you felt yourself suction around him greedily as he pushed both his middle and ring finger in.

“You’re saying that now, just wait until I’m inside you,” he was taunting you, completely throwing you off but you would happily let his fingers do all the talking now, even if it was at the expense of your pride.

Your hand immediately reached to grapple onto his biceps to keep yourself steady. If it wasn’t for your restricted mobility from your bump, you would’ve started rolling your hips to ride on his fingers.

But instead you allowed him to do all the work. Your head rested on his shoulder and you moaned into his neck as the pad of his thumb rubbed against the sensitive nerves of your clitoris.

He dragged his fingers out, now wet from your arousal, and slowly ran it over your folds. The first thing you felt after he pulled his hands away from your cunt was his hard on, pressed against you.

You would’ve started grinding against him with how needy you were if he didn’t hold you still. He held you by the side and moved you off his lap so he could remove his pants and boxers before lying down flat on his back.

You didn’t need the light to know that his dick was standing on its end with beads of precum leaking from the tip. You removed your own clothes and felt the cold air slap on your cunt.

“Ven acá amor,” his voice was inviting and you’d be a fool to deny him.

You let him guide you, given his enhanced vision that allowed him to see in the dark. Both hands were on your rear, spreading your cheeks before you felt the tip nudge into your folds.

“Oh God-” you whimpered. You felt yourself stretch to accommodate him, sinking yourself lower until you were balls deep. Your hips flushed against him with your stiff clit pressed against the top of his groin,

“No divinity. Just your husband’s dick inside you,” A wide grin spread across his face. His hands were all over your growing belly, feeling the warmth of you and the occasional kick of the baby.

“Que bonita,” he said in awe. A sense of pride washed over him knowing he was the one who knocked you up, the woman he loved and the mother of his future child. “Muy linda tu barriga,”

You seemed to be more sensitive to his praises especially given the fact that you were getting cock drunk now.

Ever since your bump was starting to show, Miguel never missed the opportunity to praise you. He wanted you to feel proud of your physique and not be hesitant on your changing body.

His hands reached over to hold your waist before he piston his hips up and took control of the pace. You could tell he was holding back from going rough, handling you with extra care.

The feel of him thrusting inside was enough to knock the senses out of you until you were high from bliss. He was making sure you felt every sensation in full capacity, feeling every crevice of his dick being caressed by your silky walls.

His hands reached over to the back of your neck to pull you in until your lips met again. The kiss was disoriented and breathy as he was still trying to maintain his pace.

Each brush of his lips on yours was feeding into your ecstasy. You pulled away and nestled into his neck, taking in his dick so well.

“That’s it, let me make you feel good. Let me make you forget about your problems, amor,” he whispered lovingly in your ear.

“Miguel…” you couldn’t form a proper response, your moans of pleasure drowning out your voice.

He was so good at making feel this way, reaching optimal pleasure from his touches. With the absence of the lighting you allowed yourself to just physically feel everything he was giving you.

His broad head nudging into your cervix.

His soft whispers fanning against your ear.

His hands all over and worshiping you everywhere he could reach.

“God, you’re so easy to please,” You could tell he was reaching his peak. With one final buck from his hip, he dragged his dick to reach the depth of your cunt before he reached his climax.

You felt the contraction of your walls around him as he drenched his balls inside of you. His grip on you loosened and his dick slipped free from your grasp before deflating onto his thighs.

You whined from the sudden withdrawal and the muscles of your walls relaxed. There were still remnants of his cum that was sticking between your thighs but you would deal with that later.

Miguel kissed the top of your forehead before letting out a deep sigh. You both lay together in each other’s embraces, basking in the afterglow with your breaths merging together.

Amidst the tranquil intimacy, your stomach let out an unexpected growl, reminding you that you skipped dinner.

Miguel chuckled softly, “So, have you still lost your appetite?”

You huffed. “Well it’s suddenly back now that I’ve worked it up in other ways,”

Hot take: cooking together in the kitchen is NOT romantic 🙅🏻‍♀️🗣️ move out of my fucking way and let me work

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @monarchberrysblog @strawberryjuice9 @lazyjellyfish300 @quack-ie @ghost-lantern

@ginanet @superstar-t20 @roreadsfanfics @francesca-the-1st @vanillapinkrose

@dfffghio @migueloharastruelove @nerdyninjaprincess @unhinged-reader-36 @maiyart

@nediks @ahcrie4help @cl3stevu @kodo1221 @boobsbeesbongos

@emelie-s-h @pretty-pink-princesss @safixiovi

Just a heads up, this may be the last Miguel fic I’ll be posting for a while. Writing for him doesn’t feel the same anymore and my hyperfixation for him is slowly wearing thin. Im not sure yet though, but savour this as much as you can I guess. That and I feel like my writing isn’t good enough for the fandom anymore :p

Also reminder that I will be interacting and reblogging fic from my second account @lmaoyouwhore

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stranger-nightmare · 2 years

Text

𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐈𝐭 𝐔𝐩 𝐓𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Part One

Pairing: Eddie Munson x (female) Reader

Summary: Eddie’s been distant and self conscious about his body ever since the bat incident in the upside down, meaning the two of you haven’t slept together for a while, when you finally confront him on it he vows to make it up to you...

Warnings: spoilers for vol.2, fluff, angst, smut, dirty talk, dry humping, oral (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, minors DNI

A/N: it’s long and I’m not sorry bc it’s absolutely worth it imo haha!! inspiration is taken from my darling 🦔 & 🎸😈 anons from this & this ask! we explored this idea in my asks and I just had to write it in full, I hope you guys enjoy!! <3

Read Part Two

This is for people 18+ only. Minors do not read on. By clicking ‘keep reading’ you are hereby agreeing that you are 18 or older.

It had been nearly a month since the fallout of ‘defeating’ Vecna. The earthquakes, the evacuation, the chaos. The only silver lining was that hunting Eddie was no longer the main priority for the town and you’d been able to smuggle him out. The two of you had rented an RV and were hidden off the grid. The rest of the gang occasionally stopped by to check in and to drop supplies, but for the most part it was just you and Eddie.

You thought this time together, completely alone, would be a haven. Getting to spend unlimited time with the boy you loved so much it almost pained you. But it wasn’t.

Eddie was distant and closed off, often zoning out completely even when you were talking to him. You knew he was recovering, both physically and mentally, from his time in the upside down. You knew he was being plagued by nightmares and flashbacks. But the thing that pained you the most was that he just wouldn’t let you help him.

He refused to talk about it. And furthermore he refused to let you help him anyway. He wouldn’t let you tend to his wounds He wouldn’t even let your hands get anywhere near his torso.

Yes, it had been nearly a month since the fallout of ‘defeating’ Vecna, and it had also been nearly a month since you and Eddie had last been together, intimately speaking. You hadn’t even seen him shirtless in that time frame either. Before the incident he used to always walk around the trailer shirtless, feeling completely comfortable and at ease around you. But now... now he scurried into the bathroom to get changed. He held the hem of his shirt down whenever he reached for something on a high shelf, refusing to let even just a sliver of his belly show.

But the worst of it? The worst of it was the way he wouldn’t let you touch him anymore, or how he wouldn't touch you either. He flinched any time your hands came anywhere near his torso. The only way he’d let you hug him was with your arms around his neck, and even then it was nowhere near the kinds of hugs you used to share before, where his entire body would engulf you and clutch you impossibly close to him.

You knew he needed time to heal, both physically and emotionally. But, truth be told, you weren’t sure how much longer you could last. Both your heart and your body ached for him, ached for just a glimpse of the boy you knew.

You'd thought you were finally making progress the other day when you ended up in a heavy makeup session. You were on top of him, your lips moving fervently against his, your legs on either side of his hips, grinding into him like your life depended on it. You were already wet, desperately aching for his touch, and you could feel how hard he was beneath you. But as soon as your hands had made their way down his neck towards his torso he froze completely, stopping all movements and telling you he needed a minute before he all but ran away from you, leaving you desperate, frustrated, but above all, sad.

You tried every day, every single day, to coax out the boy you knew. Playing his favourite music, cooking his favourite foods, picking his favourite movies to watch. You’d walk around wearing nothing but one his shirts, fishing for a reaction. Something, anything. Just anything to gain kind some kind of response from him. But he’d simply smile politely, make small talk, and then spend the evening sitting quietly with you just next to him, at most your thighs touching.

It had been this way for a month and clearly nothing was working. So today, you gave up. You sat in silence. Didn’t put the effort into trying anymore. You were at your wits end, what else were you supposed to do?

Eddie sits beside you on the bed, his hands playing awkwardly in his lap as whatever movie you’d let him pick plays softly in front of you. You’d zoned out long ago, sat in a world of your own thoughts; memories of the times you’d used to share with your fun loving boyfriend. You also couldn’t help that your mind had started to wonder back to other types of memories. You can’t help as you start to feel yourself get wet, trying to discreetly rub your thighs just to get some kind of friction. Flashbacks of him kissing you, touching you, fucking you...

“What’s wrong?” Eddie’s voice suddenly cuts through your reverie.

“What?” You blink at him in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” He repeats. “You’ve been really quiet today. Distant” he shrugs.

You scoff incredulously; “I've been distant?"

He looks at you nervously when he hears the edge in your tone.

“You’re one to talk, Munson” you continue. “I think that might be the first time you’ve spoken to me in a month without me prompting it first!” you hiss.

You see the hurt in his eyes and almost immediately regret your little outburst. You sigh, taking a moment to try and compose yourself, searching for the right words. It was now or never you supposed. You couldn’t keep going on like this; you guessed now was as good a time as any to try and talk to him.

“Eddie, have you even realised how distant you’ve been with me recently?” You ask him gently. “Like I said, you’ve barley spoken two words to me in a month. You barely even acknowledge my presence, even when I’m sat right beside you. You don’t even look at me properly anymore. You don’t kiss me, you don’t hold me, you don’t touch me” your voice almost cracks with the tears that were threatening to spill.

He looks at you sadly, pain etched on his face.

“I know you’ve needed time to... deal with everything. So have I. But you wont even let me be there for you, you won’t let me help. You’ve been going through it all on your own even though I’m right here. I’ve tried everything I can think of to try and show you that but honestly I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how else I can help you, and it’s breaking my heart. I just feel so useless. Amongst other things...” you murmur the last line to yourself.

You take another deep breath.

“I just, I- I miss you” you mumble quietly, brining your point to a conclusion.

You look at him sadly, feeling a tear prick your eye. You gently reach out a hand to cup his cheek. You feel him tense slightly before he leans lightly into your touch.

“I’m sorry” he whispers.

He stares into the distance for a moment before taking another deep breath.

“I’ve been neglecting you” he suddenly states, something like defeat lingering in his voice.

“No, no that’s not I meant. I just want to be there for you, I want you to let me be there for you” you try to reassure him quickly.

“Yeah but I closed myself off, didn’t I? And in that process I wasn't there for you either.”

You shrug. That wasn’t exactly your main concern right now but he certainly wasn’t wrong; it was still a pretty big deal to you. Eddie reaches out to grab you, gently lifting you off the bed next to him and guiding you to straddle his lap. You were only wearing his t-shirt and some thin panties, meaning there was not much in the way between your aching pussy and the crotch of his jeans. You try bite back a moan as you feel the roughness of his pants against your cunt, but a small whimper escapes your lips. And Eddie is quick to notice.

“You missed me baby?” He tilts his head to the side as he looks at you.

“Yes, but-“ you were trying to keep on track to get this boy to open up to you but he cuts you off.

“You missed me touching you? You missed these hands?” He hums as he splays his hands over your thigh.

You nod, your hips starting to grind on their own accord. Your mind begins fog, your focus fading as Eddie's hands slide their way up your legs, sending shivers through your body.

“My poor baby, you must be so needy hmm? Just aching to be touched” he taunts.

When his hands reach your hips, running over the waistband of your panties, the last of your resolve crumbles. You nod again and tug on his hair, silently asking him to give you more. And he did. As his left hand finds a hold on your hip, his right hand dips underneath your panties. You whimper as he cups your pussy for a moment before he finally curls two fingers to run between your folds. You practically shiver from the sensation as he rubs his fingers up and down your slit, collecting the wetness that had already pulled there.

“Fuck sweetheart, did I really leave you that desperate? You’re fucking soaked” He groans loudly.

You mewl and nod your head, biting your lip pathetically.

“I was thinking about you” you whisper. “Thinking about how you used to touch me. How you used to fuck me” you nudge his nose with your own as your words come out in a breathy pant.

He groans deeply again as he starts to move his hand further down, his fingers now tracing your entrance,

“Yeah? Were you thinking about how good my fingers feel? Hmm?”

You nod again, bucking your hips against his fingers, effectively humping his hand.

“Yes,” you sigh, “your fingers always felt so good.”

“Yeah?” He taunts as he finally sinks two fingers inside you, both of them slipping in so easy thanks to how wet you were.

He slowly picks up his rhythm, pumping you with his two fingers, curling them in the way he knew drove you crazy.

“This poor pretty cunt of yours hasn’t been used for so long hmm?” He hums as he moves his thumb to start small circles on your clit.

You whimper, hitting an impossibly high pitch as you feel yourself race embarrassingly fast towards a climax.

“I’m so sorry baby” he groans, his lips attaching to your neck, peppering hot kisses across your throat. “I’ll make it up to you” he whispers the promise against your skin.

In the same breath he starts to speed up his movements, his fingers pumping in and out of you rapidly, his thumb swirling around your clit with even more fervour. You swear you almost feel another tear sting your eyes as pleasure courses through your body.

“Oh fuck, yes yes yes yes” you whisper incoherently as your orgasm blinds you, coming on impossibly fast.

The months worth of built up tension melting away as pleasure burns through you, your fingers dig painfully hard into Eddie’s shoulders as your body shakes and convulses. You almost didn’t even care that you’d cum so quickly; if anything it was just a testament to how much you needed this, just how desperate you had been for him.

“That’s my good girl” Eddie hums, kissing along your jaw.

He pumps you slowly a few more times before gently removing his fingers from you. You sigh, completely content in your post orgasmic bliss. But Eddie just smirks up at you.

“I hope you don’t think we're finished, sweetheart. I’ve got a lot of time to make up for” he murmurs between kissing down your throat.

He stops to quickly help you shrug his shirt off your body before he carries on kissing down your chest. He takes a moment to worship your tits, biting and swirling his tongue over each nipple, kissing and sucking hickies into the soft fleshy skin of your breasts. You squirm under his touch, pushing your hips into him, your pussy already aching with need again.

Once he’s finished his assault on your breasts he gently lifts you off him and lays you down on the mattress, flipping the two of you over. He kisses your lips sweetly before his kisses move down your body again. When he reaches your hip bones he hums against your skin, kissing tantalisingly close to where you wanted him, needed him, but not giving in just yet. He yanks your panties down your leg, shucking them off to the floor. Eddie then grabs your legs with his hands, opening you up and spreading you wide in front of him.

“Oh fuck” he groans into the skin of your thigh. “I’ve missed this sight. This pretty little pussy of yours” he kisses up and down your inner thighs. “Gonna worship it like I should’ve been doing ages ago” he promises, placing a kiss to the apex of your thigh.

Without hesitation he dives right into your pussy, his mouth wasting no time in latching onto your clit. You moan and arch your body in response, your head falling back onto the mattress.

“Fuck baby you taste so good” he sighs against your clit. “I’ve missed this taste” he murmurs between kitten licking your swollen clit. “Did you miss my tongue too, sweetheart?”

You can feel him smirk into your cunt as you just answer with a loud moan. You moan even louder when you realise that Eddie himself is humping the mattress, desperately grinding his still clothed crotch against the bed. Pleasuring you had only turned him on even more. Listening to your moans, the sound of his name falling from your lips; it had him aching for some kind of release of his own whilst he tongue fucked you. The sight of it was almost too much to bear. It was so hot watching him hump the bed like that that you feel your second climax race faster to the surface.

“Oh fuck, Eddie” you cry as your second orgasm crashes through you.

You gasp and moan between your laboured breathing, your chest heaving up and down as pleasure racks through you. Your fingers knot into his hair, holding him against you as you fuck yourself against his face, riding out your high. Eddie softly sucks on your clit, drawing out your orgasm for all it was worth. After he feels you start to convulse he finally releases your clit, placing a soft kiss to the inside of your right thigh.

Eddie looks up at you, your wetness glistening his lips and his chin. He gives you a small smile, looking at you as he gently kisses your thighs again. You moan loudly and sit up quickly. You grab the neck of Eddie’s shirt and pull him into you. Your lips crash against his, devouring the taste of yourself on his mouth. He hums a small sound of surprise before he groans, opening his mouth and letting your tongue slide over his. You use the element of surprise to your advantage, flipping Eddie over and pinning him to the bed with your hips.

You keep kissing him but immediately you can start to feel his hesitation. His hands on your hips are no longer pulling you against him but are rather holding you in place, not letting you rut against him like you wanted to. You slow down the kiss, slow down everything, thinking maybe if you just gave him a second you might be able to carry on.

But alas, just as your hands slide down his neck to his chest, rubbing over his shirt, his hands fly up to catch yours and halt their movements. His lips part from yours as he dips his head, his eyes locking on to where his hands held yours in place, almost as if he was afraid if he looked away they’d somehow find a way to those scars he was so desperate to keep hidden.

“Eddie, please...” you plead with him sadly. “It’s okay” you try to reassure him gently. “Just let me in. Let me see” you whisper.

“I can’t,” he breathes shakily, “I just can’t.”

Despite what had just occurred you still hadn’t reached the root of the issue, which mostly revolved around Eddie’s self-esteem issues. He may have touched you again, provided you some release, but you still hadn’t actually got through to him about letting you in, about opening up to you.

You’d gotten so lost in him finally touching you again that you’d missed it for what it actually was.... a distraction.

To be continued...

Part Two

Masterlist

A/N: if anyone was curious, probably not but anyway, this was titled after Imagine Dragons’ song I’ll Make It Up To You which is one of my favourites of theirs! I hope you guys enjoyed this! part two will be posted shortly, stay tuned!! <33

Taglist // Join My Nightmare Realm // Ko-fi

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inkdrinkerworld · 9 months

Note

could u please write a lil something for a chubby reader and spencer :)) maybe a small meet-cute at a library or coffee shop? (something really fall inspired hehe) thank u thsnk u love ur work <3

spencer doesn't usually stop at this particularly library, but he'd had to for the case. he and emily had been tasked with finding more information about the books related to the unsub.

he's in fall colours- soft browns and muted oranges, his scarf the only pop of colour visible in a deep purple.

"uh, hi," he says softly, tapping his fingers on the front desk.

his eyes light up when you tip your chin upwards, a warm smile on your face as you look at him. "hi, can i help you find anything?" spencer feels his head cloud and hopes emily doesn't notice.

"yeah, we're looking for this book," she shows you the piece of the paper and your tongue pokes out the corner of your mouth, eyebrows scrunching as you puff up your already chubby cheeks.

"i think we're supposed to have three copies of them, would you mind waiting while i check?" you look up and spencer finds it hard to do anything other than shake his head.

your eyes shine in the amber light of the library and your glasses chain holds flowers and little yellow ducks that clink together as you walk over to the desktop. you're in a pale yellow top and from what spencer can see, brown corduroy jeans. you look cute and the curves of your waist and the little pudge of your belly looks good enough to grab to spencer.

emily coughs softly and his cheeks heat, his eyes lifting back to your face.

"did you know that ducks at rocks? they do it to help them digest hard foods and store them in their gizzards," your eyes seem to light up as spencer speaks so he presses on. "in 1911 in nebraska hunters actuaally found gold nuggets in their gizzards. it supposedly spurred the 'gold rush.'"

emily is proud that he doesn't stutter and is even moree proud of spencer when your eyes widen and you look up from the computer.

"their ducklings communicate while they're still in their eggs and they try to hatch at the same time." you say softly and spencer smiles, letting you work while emily looks between you both shocked.

"you should ask her out." emily whispers to him and his eyes widen.

"we're on a case and i don't know her." spencer whispers back, eyes tracking your every move.

"you were just sharing duck facts, boy genius. leave your number for after." emily says it so easily and with such belief that spencer will get a date or at least a friend out of this case that he considers it seriously.

"they're in aisle three, on the third shelf. there's also some other related books in the shelf across from them."

"thanks," they both say as they walk off. you spend a couple seconds watching after the man in the purple scarf.

they return in a couple minutes, with three books.

"are you checking them all out?" you ask and spencer nods, you stamp and process the books. "could i get a name?" you hold your pen just below your lips as you wait for answer.

the woman says, "i'll be in the car spence." the man blushes and you give him a gentle smile.

"spencer reid." he says softly, voice a whisper as you scribble, slipping the card into the book along with a small piece of paper. "have a good day." he says as he takes the book and you nod, waving him out of the library.

emily watches him open up the first book and leans over into his space as she starts to pull off. "what did she say?"

spencer smiles when he sees the note, your handwriting leaning to th right and slightly looped, "good luck, spencer reid. maybe we can exchange more facts soon, y/n" he reads and smiles even brighter when he notices your number below that.

"told you reid," emily says fondly and spencer can't ease the blush on his face all day.

#spencerreid #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x chubby!reader #spencer reid x black!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds

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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months

Text

Chaos

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: A trip to Sainsbury's

Sainsbury's is a magical place.

It's made even more magical when you go there without Momma and Morsa.

You zoom down the aisles, barely keeping pace with Sam and Guro as Erin runs with the cart. Millie's a few steps behind, taking a video as Erin hits Guro and she falls down like a bowling pin.

You giggle with Sam as Millie howls with laughter as she puts a bunch of cakes into the cart.

"It's not funny!" Guro tries to say but Erin rams the cart into her again and she falls to the ground.

"It's so funny!" Erin insists, finally helping Guro up as Sam brings you over to the section with the squirty cream and milk.

"Hey! How many of these were we supposed to get?"

"Milkshakes!" You exclaim," Can I get a milkshake, Sam?"

Momma never lets you have milkshakes. She says they make you too hyper and she worries that your belly won't like it if you drink too many of them.

"Course! How many do you want? Ooh, there's different flavours."

"One of each!" You exclaim, letting Sam lift you up so you can grab some and sweep them into Erin's cart.

"Perfect choice!"

Your Momma and Morsa told you this morning that everyone was having a little celebration for some staff member's birthday or something so you got to go to the local Sainsbury's to get party food.

"Ooh! Ooh!" Guro says, pointing up at the big pack of caramel trifles on the top shelf. "I think we should get one of them!"

"Why stop at one?" Millie scoffs, pulling out eight. "If we got too much then I'm sure we can all just take some home."

Your legs start to get a bit tired as Sam drags you up and down the aisles ahead of the others so you make the universal sign of pick me up please and end up sitting inside the cart rather than the little seat it came with.

Erin makes race car noises with her mouth as she pushes the cart faster and more recklessly than any of the other shoppers, making sure to ram into Guro at every opportunity.

It makes you giggle hysterically in between ordering Millie to put everything you want into the cart.

She's happy to do as you say and gets very excited when you ask for the popping candy that Momma says will rot your teeth.

"What else do we need?" Erin asks, staring down at the list that they were meant to be sticking to.

The entire cart was filled to the brim with you sitting on top of a box of beers, munching happily at the little cupcake Guro opened for you.

"Think we've got everything," You say, opening your mouth so Millie can pour some milkshake down your throat.

"Did we get ice cream?" Guro asks," Everything's better with ice cream."

"I love ice cream," Sam agrees," They've got cookie dough."

"Let's get ice cream," Millie says.

By the time you've gotten everything into the car, you don't really want to sit in your car seat. Hanging out with the big girls makes you want to be one of them and big girls don't sit in car seats.

"Can she do that?" Guro whispers as you stubbornly stand in front of her, arms crossed over your chest," Not sit in the seat?"

"Er..." Sam says," I'm not sure. I don't think so?"

"Not sitting in it!" You insist, stamping your foot," Not! Not! Not!"

"You're not sitting in it?" Millie asks as she approaches," Are you sure?" She hoists you up and tries to buckle you in while you're distracted but you grab at her arms to stop her.

"No! No! No!"

You kick your feet out, suddenly crashing from your sugar high, as your voice gets higher and more screechy.

"Alright," Millie says, picking you up and sitting you on her lap in the passenger seat and clipping the belt over both of you," This good, kid?"

You think for a moment before turning to look at Erin. "My drinks please," You say, any hint of sadness now gone as you get yourself comfortable on Millie's lap and sip at the drinks your Momma would never let you get.

By the time you get back to the training grounds, Momma and Morsa are waiting outside.

Momma's face goes a little red when Millie lets you out and then Morsa's gets even redder when she watches how much Erin, Guro and Sam unload from the car.

"So..." Millie says," It looks worse than it is."

"You didn't put her in her car seat?!" Pernille demands, holding you close and tucking you into her neck. "You could have crashed! She wasn't wearing a seatbelt!"

"She was wearing a seatbelt!" Millie insists," I'm not completely irresponsible!"

"How much did you buy?" Magda was asking the other three girls," I gave you a list! I specifically remember giving you a list! Do none of you listen to me when I'm not around?"

You've wormed yourself out of Momma's neck as she was yelling and you hold a hand out to Millie. "My milkshake, please."

"You bought her a milkshake?!"

"It was Sam!"

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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christall77 · 1 year

Text

~❦Caught Feelings❦~

Merman x F!Reader

This is actually my first time writing about falling in love and stuff, so I hope I did good!

The art used doesn't belong to me, but to it's rightful owner @weyowang!

TW: ENTANGLEMENT OF MARINE LIFE, other than that it's pure fluff!

Another fish is wrapped up by a loose fishing line, it was the fifth one today Tullius has come across on his way close to the shore. The lone merman wastes no time and swims over to help the poor puffer fish in need. His long, strong, pale tail pushing him through the water with no effort.

Reaching for the puffed up creature he carefully untangles the thin line from its spikes and removes the hook puncturing it's pectoral fin. Luckily the brown and white spotted fish isn't badly hurt and manages to swim off just fine, deflating in the process. That has become an almost daily routine for the male. Everyday Tullius would swim to the beach located not far away from his shipwreck he calls home and collect various trinkets he found. Helping other sea life on the way if he sees them in trouble.

Tullius himself hasn't been safe from the trash and other gadgets humans have lost, or thrown out to sea. Having the scars and even part of a worn out net wrapped around his tail to prove it. The material dirty and grown with algea and tiny barnacles. It's also one of his reminders why he was shunned and eventually exiled from his previous home. Trying to get it off with the help from others when he couldn't do it alone, only for them to end up chasing him away.

Anything and everything human related is frowned upon in his folk. As more people came to visit the beaches, mermaids and mermen were forbidden to come anywhere close to the surface, by order of their king.

But despite knowing how bad it is for his home which he calls the ocean, he can't help but still be curious and fascinated by humans and their strange knick knacks. There's a whole wooden shelf in the downed ship full of things he's collected. One new strange, or in his eyes, beautiful object found throughout his trips is added daily. The merman doesn't even know where to stock the rest of them he'll find in the future!

Tullius has come to like it out here by himself. It's not like he was well liked before either. Tullius was seen as an outsider already by not having a vibrant color of a tale, or beautiful fins like the others.

Of course he has kept safe distances from the shore to make sure he wouldn't be spotted, but lately he can't stop himself from peeking out of the water every so often. Swimming closer day by day, just to get another glimpse of something. Or more like, someone.

Tullius has seen humans before, but when he first saw you he couldn't take his midnight blue eyes away from your figure walking along the beach. Cradling and comforting a seagull you've rescued from drowning. From this day on he couldn't stop himself from visiting, just to hope to get another glimpse of you from behind a few rocks. His organ in his chest beating faster and a warm giddy feeling spreading throughout Tullius' body. At first he confused the feeling with sickness, or the tiny fish he had for breakfast, swimming around in his belly. But then he remembered, food that's been chewed and eaten can't swim anymore.

The male came to realize, this strange feeling returns whenever he's watching you from the distance, but it's not uncomfortable. No. He likes it. A lot. And it grew as time passed, the longer he watched the more enamored he became.

Tullius desperately wants to get closer to you but, what would you think of him? Would you like him back? Or would you look at him with disgust like his own kind? He sure hopes it's not the latter.

Another dreamy sigh leaves his lips as Tullius rests his head in both of his palms, half of his body leaning on top of the rocky surface on his usual watch spot. White tail lazily swinging back and forth in the blue ocean waters. Admiring your (body type) figure doing small dances while you keep singing to your favorite song that's playing through your earphones. Hardly anyone comes to this part of the beach since it's so secluded and luckily for the merman, you've decided to live in a small hut close by! It just happened recently but he couldn't have been more excited, especially since he gets to see you everyday now.

With a soft smile Tullius listens to your lovely voice, his wine colored ear fins twitching occasionally. No matter how good or terrible your singing is to you, he thinks it's the most beautiful sound in the world. The white haired male would love to sing with you, if he could.

Tullius snaps out from his thoughts when he heard a loud "oof" and thud in the sand. It seems you've stumbled over yourself and landed almost face first into the warm sand, for a second he was worried you might've hurt yourself only to make a quiet noise of relief when you get up unharmed. Immediately ducking behind the rock for cover when you take a look around to make sure no one has seen that clumsy act.

His heart beats against his ripcage hoping you didn't notice him watching, taking a quick peek over again Tullius lets out a small sad grumble when you make your way back into your hut and out of his sight. Yes, he does want to get to know you, but he always just gets too nervous for his own good.

But he told himself to finally approach you, the merman just has no idea how. So he ends up swimming around in circles in deep thought. The sound of panicked splashing suddenly makes him look over to the beach where a poor sea turtle is trying to get into the water. Half of its shell wrapped up tightly in a net which is holding the animal just barely away from the incoming waves. Tullius swims over quickly, looking left and right for any sign of another human around.

The male crawls onto shore and drags himself over, his arms lifting his upper body up from the heated sand, the small ocean waves now just barely reaching his white finned tail. Tullius, like others of his kind can breathe in air just fine, but he still has to hurry before his gills and other fishy half dries out in the hot sun. The animal notices the merman closing in and continues to struggle, sand flying in the air and some landing in his messy locks in the process from its flippers.

As Tullius tries to comfort the turtle his scaled hands grasp onto the net and he tries to pull it away, with no luck. It looks to be wrapped around to tightly, almost suffocatingly for one to just pull it off. And slowly but surely he feels himself get dryer. The tides also seem to go against him as well when he notices the water drawing back and further away from them. His eyes start loosing focus and Tullius can feel himself growing weaker and dizzy, until he collapses onto the sand beside the other sea creature.

In his barely awake state, he notices something approaching in the distance, but he's to weak to react or make a noise that would alert the stranger. They come to a short halt and seem to call out to him, whatever it is they're saying rings through his head in a blur. His lack of response makes them hurry over until they finally reached him. Tullius barely feels his hands being lifted and freed from the net, before being held up and brought to who knows where.

Until he feels himself being submerged into the familiar salty water, he splashes for a short moment before calming down and letting himself float to the surface with relief. Dry skin regaining its needed moisture.

Then his deep blue eyes meet your wide surprised (e/c) ones and he yelps, submerging himself in the shallow water to hide.

“Wait!”, That sweet voice of yours calls out to him and he slowly rises his head to the surface until just the top of his head and eyes are poking out from the water. You try to appear as nonthreatening as possible. Throwing the small knife away which you've used to cut through the seams of the net to free both the sea turtle and merman. With a quick glance down Tullius also discovers the lack of a familiar old net wrapped tightly around him now gone.

Keeping a safe distance and speaking in a calm voice as you show you're empty handed now. “It's OK... I'm not going to harm you. See? I also freed your friend if you're wondering.”

Tullius meanwhile almost can't believe his own eyes, the human girl he's been fawning over for who knows how long has saved him. And she's not afraid of him! He keeps staring at you with big sparkling eyes, ear fins twitching happily. “Can you talk?”, the merman tilts his head once he snaps out of his small daze and shakes his head lightly, small waves rippling around his head. While the male has learned and understands human language, he can't answer. Only communicating with clicks and other noises merfolk would use.

“Ah that would've been cool. I can't believe I'm actually meeting a real mermaid! Uhh merman..?” you let out a small chuckle at the end and look at him with big amazed eyes, not believing that a supposed mythical creature is right in front of you. “My name is (y/n) it's very nice to meet you!”

Tullius let's out a few clicks in return, introducing himself despite knowing you won't understand him either way.

The two of you spend a little more time together, the merman still mostly submerged while you've sat down onto the sand with your feet dipped into the shallow waves. Having what feels like more of a one sided conversation since he can't really talk back. But nonetheless, you still understood the small gestures he would make.

Only when the sun slowly starts to set did both of you notice how late it actually is. Standing up you give the merman a small wave, “It was really nice meeting you, Mr. Merman. I hope we can see each other again some time.”

Tullius perks up at the suggestion that you want to meet him again. Tilting his head slightly to the side he makes a small squeaky sound, wanting to know when that time will be and where you're going. Of course you didn't understand him and assumed he was saying his own goodbye, you give him a sweet smile before returning back to your hut.

The male watching your form getting smaller with his ear fins cast down and a pout forming on his lips. How he wished he could follow after you just to spend more time with you. Oh wait. He can.

~~~

It's around ten at night when all of a sudden you hear something entering your small wooden hut. As if something heavy got knocked over. You left your window open to let the small ocean breeze in, and you never expected someone to actually break in. After all, you're basically alone on this part of the island. You made sure when you rented this hut for your summer holiday. Wanting nothing more but to relax and enjoy the beach without having other people there.

But when you sneaked out of your small kitchen with a frying pan in both hands, just in case, you find that merman you've met earlier today, laying face first on the wooden floor. Lowering your weapon you let out a surprised gasp “You? What are you doing here?”, at the sound of your voice he quickly looks up from the floor with big eyes, a happy purr rumbling through his chest as he sits up to the best of his ability. Seemingly proud that he has found you and entered on his own. Because it was definitely not that easy.

Now that he's out of the water you can finally admire the merman more closely. He seems to be your age, soft looking fair skin with small various shaped scars littering over his entire lean and slender body. Clawed hands littered with wine red fish scales spreading from the back of his hands leading up to his forearms and fading in color until they reach up his elbows, where on each a triangular fin with the same color is situated. Three slits on each side of his neck now visible which you guess are his gills are closed shut to instead breath in the air instead of filtering the oxygen through water.

One long dorsal fin, also colored wine red, travels from the back of his neck down and along his spine to the middle of his white tail where another triangular shaped one connects wandering down right to the end. Two extra pairs on the sides of his hips and the other one further down his tail. They all look like they've either got cut or teared on the edges and you wonder if it's as painful as it looks.

Your (e/c) eyes travel back up to his head where a mop of messy wet white hair just barely covers those beautiful dark blue eyes that seem to glow in the darker corner of your room. The merman crawls closer, making your form stiffen up slightly but you do not dare to make a sudden move.

Once he's just a few feet away from you, Tullius opens his fist he's been kept closed the entire time and reveals a (favorite color) star snail sea shell, holding it towards you. “For me?” The male nods with a chirp avoiding his gaze but glancing back at you to watch your reaction. You carefully take it from him, putting the pan away and look at it with awe exclaiming that you love his gift.

Tullius' tail slaps against the floor in delight, a sharp toothed grin and small blush spreading across his cheeks, seeing that you like his courting gift.

And this is how it would go on for a few weeks. The merman slipping into your home in the middle of the night and bringing you gifts, all the while hanging around with you so long until he has to go into the ocean again. While at day time you'll see him peaking out from the waves waiting for you to come visit him.

You came to know his name after you showed him how to write, being amazed what a quick learner your new merfriend is. The both of you bonded quickly and you would end up spending most of the time with Tullius and getting to learn more about him, as he does about you. Even sharing his collection with you and receiving some as well he's never seen before.

Eventually you come to feel a certain way for the merman, and you were hoping that he would feel the same.

Little did you know, you've already captured his heart way before you even knew him.

But the day where you have to fly back to your home from your vacation came quicker than you could count, and it made you sad about leaving Tullius for who knows how long. You have to tell him how you feel before you're gone from this island. So as per usual the first thing you do this morning, is walking out to the beach looking for the merman. And there he was, waiting for you at his usual spot by the small wooden pier leading to your hut.

Smiling he waves at you and does a few happy flips before climbing up the structure and leaping on top of you for a tight hug making you fall onto the wooden surface. Your clothes getting wet in the process but you don't mind and giggle as he purrs and nuzzles up against you.

Tullius has become more affectionate and clingy the closer you two became, but not in an overbearing or annoying way which you admit you find pretty cute.

As the two of you spend the time together, Tullius still having his arms wrapped around you chin resting on your shoulder while playing with your hair, you reveal to him about your vacation time and you ending up leaving this island. His reaction of course as you imagined makes your chest feel heavy. The merman is now pulling you tightly against him, his ear fins pulled down and whimpering softly, pleading for you to stay with him.

While Tullius understood that you had to go, it was very hard for him to accept it. After all, he just got closer to you and now you have to leave! He's worried you'll leave him forever.

“I know... I'll miss you too... ” Tullius rests his forehead against yours at your words clicking in response. And as a final goodbye he gently cups your cheeks slowly leaning in until his soft wet lips meet yours in a sweet kiss, surprising you but returning it with as much love as he's pouring into the gesture. A promise to him that you will definitely come back and visit him.

He pulls away with reddened cheeks and loving smile, loosening his hold and preparing to go back into the ocean waters. Neither of you wanted to leave but it would make it harder to say goodbye. And before he finally leaves, Tullius gives you one last look back and finally manages to form his usual noises into five simple words that fills your heart with warmth and will stay with you until the time comes that the both of you will meet again.

“I... love... you... forever...(y/n).”

#x reader #mythical beings #reader insert #female reader #merfolk #merman #fluff #merman x reader #y/n #monster x y/n #monster x reader

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jungk0oksthighs · 2 years

Text

happy birthday loser; jjk x reader; 18+

summary: after three years of simping over your roommate, you give him one hell of a birthday celebration. idiots to lovers pwp oneshot. literally zero plot

warnings: explicit smut, mutual thirsting, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, squirting, loud filthy (unprotected) sex. wrap before u tap

a/n: happy birthday jungkook! this is my first oneshot in 4+ years so be gentle w me please, usually i prefer to write series but i wanted to challenge myself and ofc write something special for everybody's favourite maknae's birthday. enjoy!

word count: 8k

On Thursdays you cook burgers for dinner.

But today isn’t just a regular Thursday.

It’s your roommates birthday, his twenty-fifth to be exact, so when you ventured to the grocery store last night you were sure to pick up the ingredients for his favourite meal in preparation for tonight. Samgyeopsal.

Pork belly is his favourite meat, you’ve been subjected to many a conversation about how tasty he finds it, how it’s the right balance of protein and fat, how it goes with anything, how he likes to wrap the succulent meat in lettuce leaves before submerging it into sauce and shoving it into his mouth.

It’s his favourite food without a shadow of a doubt. And so you’ve taken it upon yourself to cook it for him on his birthday. He is your favourite person after all, without a shadow of a doubt.

Jungkook moved in with you three years ago, at a very dark time in your life when you were wallowing in your post-breakup blues. You initially met the triple threat of tall, dark and handsome Jungkook at an open mic night when he struck up a conversation with you at the local bar.

As if being gorgeous isn’t enough, he’s a very talented singer and guitarist too, he and his grungy rock band like to play at bars and clubs on weekends. When he’s not busy at his nine to five as a software engineer, where he’s due to be leaving any minute now.

The more you got to know him you quickly realised he’s somewhat of a loser. Not a loser in the sense of having no friends and nothing significantly interesting about him – not in the slightest. Jungkook is a loser in the sense that he’s extremely introverted, painfully so, and lacks social skills.

He prefers to stay home after a gig, he doesn’t care for parties or girls or even much alcohol. He loves the quiet life, spending most evenings glued to his laptop to play videogames or sat beside you on the sofa binging something on Netflix. When he's not running his expert fingers over the nooks and crannies of his guitar.

Truthfully you’ve been kind of infatuated with him for a while now, he’s just so endearing and rib-shatteringly hilarious without even trying. It’s hard not to fall for him. His smile is earth-shatteringly perfect, his touch more so. You are but a woman after all, and a woman has needs and desires just like everybody else.

Jungkook being what you both need and desire daily.

At the time you met him a relationship was the last thing on your mind. Him moving into your spare bedroom was just a way to make up the rent and bill money your ex-boyfriend used to pay. But now you’re three years single save for the very occasional one night stand and Jungkook has never looked more appealing.

Maybe it’s the way he helps you reach snacks on the highest shelf when your tiptoes fail you. Perhaps it has a little something to do with the sweet melodies that flow from his pierced lips, flooding the apartment whenever he showers. It could be the fact he likes to ‘air-dry’ and parades around the place wearing nothing but a damp towel after said showers. Or it might have something to do with the way the supple skin beneath his big brown doe-eyes crinkles when he smiles.

But maybe, maybe, it’s because he’s everything you never realised you were looking for – until it quite literally showed up on your doorstep and moved in.

Okay so maybe you’re down bad for your roommate, but who in their right mind wouldn’t be? If you had to pick one word to describe Jungkook it would be… Perfect, handsome, funny, sweet, sentimental, ripped, gorgeous, talented. Any of those work just fine, it would be an insult to simply pick just one.

One of the many perks about living with Jungkook is that you’re both organised messy people, sure there’s some clutter here and there throughout the apartment but you both know damn sure what junk is where. Your personalities match, you don’t make the rules, they just do. All your friends say it, as do his friends. You'd be a show-stopping couple for sure.

It’s just that well… The man is somewhat emotionally constipated, can’t smell what’s right under his nose no matter how many hints you’ve given. Like a nose-blind lion on the prowl, there's a willing zebra right here, but he hasn't seemed to notice.

Wearing low-cut shirts at dinner, skirts that are a little too short, always making sure your makeup is clean and dewy looking even when wearing sweats. The innocent flirting that’s nowhere near innocent on your end. You shower him with compliments on the daily, being sure you don't appear too indifferent or nonchalant about it. You mean every compliment you've ever given him.

You like him, but you didn’t realise how frustrating that would prove to be giving his obliviousness.

But that all ends tonight.

You’re wearing a simple black slip dress, the smooth fabric ending just below the curve of your ass and the straps are so dainty that he’s bound to notice your exposed cleavage. Maybe even the lace trim of your sheer bra too, complete with a matching thong of course.

It’s not uncommon for you to get dressed up randomly, even before Jungkook moved in, you’ve always liked making an effort and looking pretty. It makes you feel good, confident even. You even went as far as to shave today, ensuring you're extra smooth, yknow just in case.

It's been a whole eleven months since you invited a guy back here, and the outcome was less than satisfying. Much like all your sexual endeavours, he got his and all you got was the ick. You haven’t seen the guy since.

It’s been a hot minute since Jungkook invited a girl back here too, maybe even over a year now. The way your roommate likes to saunter around half-dressed with long, messy brunette hair and a wicked smile has always affected you, made your mouth dry and your panties damp. Truthfully you don’t understand how a guy like that is single, well maybe it's because he doesn’t appear to have a radar for women, but you’re grateful nonetheless.

Black helium balloons fill your lounge, the big ‘25’ being the most obvious. You’ve spent the day mentally preparing for this, you want to show him how much you appreciate everything he does for you and celebrate his birthday properly. From him always prepping extra breakfast in the mornings just to make sure you’ve eaten, to his inked fingertips giving you back massages when you’ve hit the gym a little too hard. He’s usually the one to cook dinner most nights, so tonight you want to return the favour with a smile.

You’re just about to start prepping dinner when the unmistakable sound of his key in the door sends a rush of excitement through you. He’s home.

“Hey loser.” Jungkook’s voice is casual when he slips into the apartment, you’re too busy reapplying lip gloss to get a good look at him just yet.

“Good evening.” You chuckle, clamping the handheld mirror shut and sliding it into a kitchen draw.

You don’t know when it started, nor who started it. But the two of you like to use the term loser as a term of… almost endearment. It’s an inside joke between you both, friends and family members often gasp at the nickname you have for each other but for you? The word loser started to make your heart flutter and squeeze a long time ago. Finally you peer to the doorway and acknowledge him with a kind smile, one he’s reciprocating already.

“Happy birthday loser.”

As always he looks good enough to eat. His chiselled yet soft features, tanned skin, the little beauty mark nestled just beneath those very inviting lips of his. The muscles that threaten to tear through the fabric of his clothes. The tattoos that peak out from his sleeve cuffs. The piercings, his long dark hair that parts in the middle and frames those very handsome, genetic lottery winning features of his. You fight a teenage-like sigh, just looking at him is enough to make your heart race.

“What’s all this..?” His eyes scan the room as he shimmies out of his blazer, leaving him in a black shirt tucked into slacks of the same colour. His favourite colour is black, almost everything he owns is black, hence the fitting colour of the birthday decorations. “Are you making pork?” His angled chin tips in your direction, lazy footsteps bringing him closer.

“Mhm.” You nod, suppressing a grin, “You like pork belly, right? I thought it was your favourite.”

He’s nodding along to the sound of your voice, still smiling, “No I do, it is. It’s just we usually have burgers on a Thursday.”

“Ahh, but today isn’t just Thursday,” You remind him with a mischievous wink, “It’s your birthday, Thursday the 1st of September.”

“Congratulations you know how to read my drivers license.” Jungkook snorts when he props himself onto the kitchen countertop, next to your little workstation, “You look nice.”

“Thank you.”

“You didn’t have to do all this yknow.”

“I wanted to.” You hum, turning on the stove.

“But what if I already have plans to celebrate my birthday?” His pierced brow quirks, the silver barbel glimmering beneath the harsh kitchen lighting.

You tut, fighting the urge to roll your eyes when you glare at him and see his nose is already scrunched playfully, “Do you have plans?”

“Looks like I do now!” He claps, taking a beat before cocking his head to one side, his features softening upon watching you cook, “Thank you Y/N.”

Looking him dead in the eye you offer a genuine smile, “Anytime.”

“Would you be offended if I showered before we ate? The AC at work broke and this shirt feels sticky.” He sighs, cracking his neck.

“Why would I be offended?” A light puff of air rips from your nostrils when he fails to respond, his features blanketed with uncertainty and confusion. He really is emotionally constipated.

“No, I wouldn’t be offended loser. Go shower.” You’re giggling, shaking your head in disbelief, “It’ll be ready by the time you’re finished.”

“You’re the best!” He hops off the counter, making sure to spank your ass before skipping into the bathroom. “Happy birthday to me indeed.” He chuckles, winking in your direction before he closes the door behind him.

It’s always like this, the playful flirts and touches, but you crave something more. You want him to shove his tongue so far down your throat he could eat you out at the same time. You want to feel his tattooed hands to explore every square inch of your body while he fucks you into oblivion. The thought alone is enough to frustrate you.

Maybe you should just hop on top of him one night in front of the TV. Sometimes you do sit on his thighs, his ridiculously strong thighs, if there’s a lack of seating. You sigh dramatically, mentally debating whether the large sofa would fit through the window. If there’s nowhere to sit you’d have to sit on him. Problem solved. All you have to do is throw the fucking sofa out the window and pray he takes the hint. Easy enough.

The sizzling meat in the pan is interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening, revealing a cloud of steam and a shirtless Jungkook, tattoos and muscles displayed in all their glory. He’s wearing nothing but Calvin Klein boxer shorts, grey ones, that leave fuck all to the imagination.

“Forgot my towel.” He chuckles awkwardly, briefly heading into his bedroom to retrieve said towel. That damn white towel. What would he do if there were no towel? Walk around bare-ass with his dick on show? Maybe you could throw the towel out the window instead, it would be much easier than the sofa.

“You okay?” Jungkook’s presence startles you, he’s right next to you with furrowed brows and his stupidly muscular arms crossed over his chest, towel draped on his shoulder. “You zoned out again, thinking about anything good?” He’s laughing, wetting his lips between smiles.

Your gaze flickers to the bumps of his toned abdomen before settling on his face, he’s smiling brightly at you, seemingly unaware of the carnal desire you have to pin him to the kitchen floor and mount him right now.

“I’m fine, go get your shower.” You act indifferent, prompting a quiet, unconvinced ‘oookay’ from your roommate before he’s gone again.

You’re genuinely entertaining the idea of throwing out, no wait burning that sofa now, Jungkook’s thighs have always been way comfier anyway.

Interestingly enough the timing of his shower is perfect, you’re plating up dinner on the coffee table when he’s finished. Making sure to grab a bottle of soju from the cupboard, he’s not much of a drinker but you figure it is his birthday after all. Dragging two plump cushions from the sofa you’ve suddenly grown a strong hatred toward, you sit on one, leaving the other free for the birthday boy himself.

“Oh my god this smells great,” Jungkook comically inhales until his chest, his bare chest, is full of air. “Have you watched those 365 days movies? Someone at work recommended them to me earlier.” He says nonchalantly while sitting next to you, only wearing that damn white towel over his hips. The scent of his coconut bodywash clings to his beefy frame and floods your senses.

“The sex movies?” You laugh, handing him chopsticks all while trying to keep your gaze on his face. Somewhat a difficult challenge considering he's half naked. Again. “I’ve heard they’re really graphic with basically no plot, just steamy sex scenes, bad accents and a hot guy with tattoos.”

“Ah, you do like a man with tattoos.” He sniffs, fingertips lingering on yours while he grips the utensils, “Well since it’s my birthday I say we watch them. Seokjin at work said they're pretty good.”

“Okay,” You shrug, “But since when do you know about what kind of man I like?”

At this Jungkook grins, finding the remote and switching on Netflix, “You’ve only ever brought two guys back here since I moved in, both had tattoos. It’s a reasonable assumption to make.”

“Valid.” You’re nodding, beginning to tuck into the food, “I guess I do like men with tattoos, yeah.”

“Yeah?” He asks, gently elbowing your side. When you glance at him he’s smiling, wiggling his thick eyebrows animatedly while gesturing to his dark sleeve tattoo. “I’m a man with tattoos.”

“That you are.” You wink, praying to every higher power that one of these days he's going to acknowledge you're a woman. A woman with a vagina. A vagina that needs stuffing immediately.

“Shit Y/N this is amazing,” Jungkook’s frowning while he chews, a crystal clear sign that he’s enjoying the food you’ve made, “You should cook this more often, so much better than burgers. Fuck,” He moans, dark lashes dusting his face when he squeezes his eyes shut, “So good. So fucking good. Best birthday meal ever.”

This is how most of your nights together are spent, sat witching TV on the floor while eating dinner and enjoying each other’s company. You’re coming to the end of your meal when the first sex scene in the movie starts playing, well, okay not really. The characters aren’t having sex but she’s tied up to the bed watching someone else suck off the sexy guy with tattoos. Your brows are hiked up your forehead, eyes wide, this is not where you thought the plot was going.

“Would you ever do anything like that?” Your roommate asks with his last mouthful of food, watching the TV while running a hand through his damp long hair, “Maybe not the kidnapping part but would you ever wanna watch someone have sex?”

“Nah,” You shake your head, “Not for me. What about you?”

“For sure.” He affirms with a nod, still staring at the screen, “But I’d rather be watched than be the one watching. Especially if I was into the girl, I’m way too jealous for shit like that.”

Ignoring the way his response sends a shiver down your spine you swallow your food, “Aren’t you a little socially awkward to put yourself in that kind of situation? No offence.”

“None taken, I am an awkward guy,” He snorts, “But I don’t know, the idea of someone seeing me absolutely destroy someone kinda gets me going… I like the idea of being watched. Don’t you have anything like that?”

You gulp, “Like what?”

“Any kinks or fantasies.”

“I guess so… Doesn’t everybody?”

At this Jungkook takes it upon himself to pause the movie, giving you his full, undivided attention, “Tell me some.”

“Jungkook…” Your sigh shifts into an awkward giggle, truthfully he is your fantasy. And that towel doesn’t leave much to your imagination, if anything at all. But it doesn’t take you long to crumble, “Okay fine, what do you wanna know?”

“Where would you most like to have sex?” He’s smirking, hooded eyes boring into the depths of your soul, “Anywhere in the world, go.”

“Hmm… I don’t know actually, I’ve never thought about it. What about you?”

“My bed.”

You deadpan, a single brow quirked, “Your bed?”

“It’s comfy, it smells nice, and I can go to sleep after without worrying about getting home since I’m already here. Of course my bed is the number one choice.” He’s looking at you as though you’re stupid, as though his answer is obvious when he scoffs.

“Okay… that’s fair enough.”

Jungkook’s watching you closely, and you swear you see his vision drop to your chest for a millisecond before settling back on your eyes, “What would your ideal guy do to you in bed?”

Sucking in a breath of air you’re already nodding, “Easy. The ideal guy isn’t selfish and knows how to make me come, maybe even squirt. No guys ever made me do either. Your turn.”

“None of the guys you’ve slept with have made you come? What the fuck! Um-, okay…” He licks his teeth before making noises akin to car turning lights, emphasising his thoughts, “The ideal woman is bossy, not dominant but knows what she wants and tells me how to do it. I like vocal women, women who aren’t scared of their own voice. Plus the ideal can actually ride me, the amount of women that give up after four bounces is kinda disappointing.”

Suddenly your mouth feels very dry, prompting you to swallow nothing. Thankfully you’ve never heard Jungkook having sex, there’s been a couple of times you’ve heard heavy breathing and little whimpers from his bedroom but it’s always when he’s alone in there. Guys masturbate, it would be unreasonable to expect him not to do it when you’re home. Plus you’ve definitely gotten yourself off while he’s slept in the next room, you have zero room to talk.

“Really? Four bounces?” Your voice betrays you slightly, wavering with curiosity.

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong I don’t mind doing all the work, it’s just annoying when they talk a big game and put in minimal effort. Just be upfront about wanting me to be in charge, you know? I like being in charge it’s no big deal.”

You’re shaking your head, frowning with an uncertain smile, “Then what are you complaining about?”

At this the birthday boy sighs exasperatedly, as though you’re missing the point, “It’s just annoying isn’t it? When you think somethings gonna go a certain way and then it doesn’t…”

“Tell me about it.” You snort, pouring two shots of peach soju.

“Okay,” Jungkook takes the shot of soju, snapping his fingers excitedly, seemingly unphased by the bitter taste of alcohol, “Who do you wanna sleep with more than anyone in the world? Who’s your number one?”

Slinging back the soju, you bite the bullet with an devilish smirk.

“Hmmm… You.”

Stone cold regret washes over you when he looks through you, the same way he looks at people he’s not comfortable with yet. The exact same expression he gives strangers when he doesn’t understand why he’s been roped into their conversations. His pierced lips purse, the Adam’s apple in his throat bobbing from a thick swallow. Eyes animatedly round, shocked and astonished.

“Uhh…” He wets his lips before his eyes narrow, brows pinching, “I’m being serious Y/N…”

You nod, “Me too but never mind.” You sigh dramatically, pouring more shots.

“Stop fucking around with me!” He playfully pushes your shoulder, earning embarrassed laughter to bubble in the depths of your throat, “You can’t just say that to me out of nowhere!”

“Out of nowhere?” You repeat, frustrated, “Jungkook I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve tried hitting on you and it just seems to go straight over your head.” You whine, lips forming a cute pout that he can’t stop staring at, “Anyway… Like I said, never mind. Forget I said anything. Who’s your number one?”

But Jungkook is too stunned to speak. He’s looking down at you as though you’ve just told him you want to marry him and have his babies. Surprised doesn’t cut it, nor does confused. It’s a deadly cocktail of the two mixed with a little nervousness tugging his usually sharp features up and wide.

“I-, what?” He blinks away his daydream, “Are you being serious? You actually wanna fuck me? I can’t tell. You know I’m bad with stuff like this. Spell it out for me loser.”

At this you shake your head, feeling deflated, “It doesn’t matter, honestly just forget I said anything, you don’t find me attractive so it’s not like it’s ever gonna—”

“Now you’re putting words in my mouth.”

An agitated exhale leaves you, your roommate still staring at you expectantly with a single brow quirked, “You don’t have to say it out loud Kook, it’s obvious.”

“Wow, you really don’t know me at all, do you?” His white teeth are bared in a dazzling panty-dropping grin, “Why do you think I’m sitting here in a towel Y/N? Just out of curiosity.”

“Cause you like to ‘air-dry’.” You mimic air quotes with a mocking tone, slugging back another shot of soju. He does the same.

Jungkook’s voice drops into something akin to seductive, biting the inside of his cheek to suppress a huge smile, “Actually, I thought that maybe if I walk round the place half naked all the time you’d take the hint eventually. You think when I moved in friendship was the only thing on my mind?” He’s laughing now, shaking his head in disbelief, baffled, tongue darting over his lips to wet them. “You think when I came up to you at the bar all I wanted was to be your friend?”

“W-what are you saying? That you are attracted to me?” Your heart races away in your chest, a lick of heat wetting your spine when your roommate tilts his head to one side, smirking.

“Ask me who my number one is.”

“Okay… I’ll humour you. Who’s your number one?” You’re blushing, unable to wipe the smile from your features when he sucks in a harsh breath of air, watching you closely.

His inked hand finds the nape of your neck, tugging your face closer, close enough that your noses bang together and you both giggle. “You are, loser.”

The next thing you know he’s kissing you, and you’re kissing him back.

Where most make out sessions begin soft and slow, gentle and uncertain while both parties attempt to figure out what the other likes – that’s far from what’s happening here. It’s heated, it’s messy and fuelled by years of pent up frustration and longing. His grip moves to your jaw where he pries it open, slipping his tongue into your mouth at that exact moment.

“Oh… Jungkook…” You mewl, smiling triumphantly against his mouth.

Fucking finally.

“You have,” He pulls back, lips kiss-swollen and stained with lip gloss, “No idea,” His hands sneakily find your hips, guiding your body until you’re straddling his towel-clad thighs, “How long,” He’s smirking, palming the fat of your ass when his lips find your in a hurry, “I’ve wanted to fuck you.”

“Well why didn’t you say anything then?!” You frown, sighing in bliss when your dress is being pushed up, pooling your abdomen that’s full of pork belly and butterflies. Giving enough leeway for Jungkook’s fingertips to slip into the waistband of your underwear.

He chuckles into the kiss, averting his mouth to pepper your jawline with lots more dainty little kisses, whispering, “The same reason you didn’t, I didn’t know you were into me like that.”

“Except I tried, multiple times…” You hum, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Palms explore Jungkook’s muscular back, every lump, bump, every inch of tanned bare flesh that you’ve seen simultaneously way too many times and not enough at all. “All the slutty outfits… The compliments, I’ve been pretty vocal about finding you attractive actually.” You’re grinning, fingertips toying with the long brunette hairs at the nape of his neck.

At this Jungkook sighs, lulling his head back to get a better look at your face. His eyes are blown dark with lust, his gaze hooded and intense. But it’s the breath-taking smile he wears that sends a rush of heat straight between your legs.

“I do like a woman who’s vocal about what she wants.” He winks, crushing his lips to yours once more, “So tell me what you want loser.”

“Want you.” You pout, elbows resting atop his broad shoulders when you brush the hair away from his face, physically incapable from breaking the string of messy kisses. He tastes like peaches and sin. “Want you to make me come.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, ridding your body of the skimpy little dress that didn’t leave much to his imagination. “Wish you told me all this sooner, could’ve been blowing your back out daily by now.”

“Not my fault you can’t take a hint.” You snort, blood rushing to your cheeks when you see his hungry stare fixed to your almost bare body atop of his thighs.

He rolls his eyes, “You’re one to talk. Why do you think I put your snacks on the top shelf?”

“So you can help me reach them…?” You scoff, biting down on your lip, “So you look like a strong alpha man helping his poor defenceless vertically challenged roommate?”

“Nah,” He admits with throaty laughter, large palms exploring your curves and reaching round your back, until they’re unclasping your bra in one swift movement, “Like seeing your ass peek out the tiny little dresses you wear when you get on your tiptoes.”

Your mouth falls open in genuine shock, brows raised expectantly, “Jeon Jungkook!” You gasp, gripping his chin and angling it towards your lips, “Who knew you were such a fucking pervert?”

The man’s in a total daze, lost in your eyes with a bright smile, “You think that's perverted? You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Maybe this is a bad idea. Having wild, carnal, fringing-on-illegal sweaty hot passionate sex with your roommate. Maybe. But when your bare back hits his soft mattress with a ‘ooomf’ and he rids himself of that damn towel, you struggle to see past this moment right here, right now. Jungkook is naked, and it’s a glorious sight.

You’re grinning when he crawls up the bed, but to your surprise, no, rather to your excitement, he stops when his profile is faced with your underwear. Hooking his fingertips beneath your thong he smirks, gaze briefly meeting yours until he’s dragging your underwear beneath your ass and down your legs.

Being naked in front of Jungkook is something you’ve often thought about, it was the motivation behind your tactical shave earlier today, secretly praying this would happen. But now that you’re here, in his monochrome bedroom that smells of vanilla, on full display for the man you’ve been crushing on for so long. It all gets a little overwhelming.

“What are you doing?” He mumbles, thick brows pinched when you sheepishly shut your legs and stop him from seeing the whole show.

“I-, uh…” You swallow, clearing your throat, “It’s been a while…”

“And?”

“And I’m nervous.” You giggle, throwing your head back into his pillows.

At this he makes his way up to your face, knocking your legs apart with his knees to settle his weight between them. His strong arms hold his body in place, planted either side of your face. The way he’s peering down at you should be illegal, so smug yet there’s a glimmer of concern behind his sparkly eyes. It’s when he releases a breath of air against your face that his features soften into a faint smile, awestricken.

“I think you’re gorgeous Y/N, you don’t need to be nervous.”

“I haven’t had sex in almost a year…” You whisper, avoiding his gaze.

“And?” He repeats, chuckling mostly to himself, “Neither have I. And it didn’t stop you from using that noisy ass vibrator of yours the other night, did it?” Your eyes snap to his in a panic, he’s fully laughing now, the sound equal parts mischievous and salacious. “Walls are very thin…” He sniffs, tilting his chin to the wall his headboard rests on, backing onto your bedroom.

It’s after you sigh, beyond mortified that he heard such obscenities, that he sinks his lips to a sweet spot on your neck, sucking the flesh harsh enough to leave sensual bruises, “Let me make you feel good baby, I promise I’ll make you feel good… Don’t be nervous.” He murmurs, and you’re left breathless.

The pet name sends a rush of something strange over your body, you’re not used to him calling you anything other than loser. Maybe your name, but definitely not baby. You like it. While he’s working on making a total mess of your neck the familiar heat and lust comes back, stronger, deeper, and more determined.

“Jungkook… Please… W-want you to make me feel good.” You whisper, already in a daze.

It’s then that you feel him smirk against your skin, planting one final coy kiss to your lips before making his way down your body with one continuous lick that has your body aflame. His tongue never leaves you, travelling to your collarbones, your breasts. The flat wet muscle glides over your nipple and you gasp, brows furrowed in concentration.

“You’re so sensitive…” He hums, lapping up your nipple, taking it between his teeth and playfully sucking. Tiny whimpers and moans peep from your lips, along with the occasional gasp that has your roommate losing his goddamn mind. His tongue soon finds the other nipple, winning himself more of the same noises that are making his cock throb with anticipation already.

“So nobody’s ever made you come, huh?” He mumbles, “But you’re so fucking sensitive baby… Aren’t you?”

“Mhm…” You bite your lip, hands greedily smoothing over his bare shoulders. You want to feel his body, his entire body. You want it on top of you, next to you, underneath you, inside you. Perhaps it’s due to all the pent up frustration harboured toward him, but there’s a dull beat between your legs that you so desperately want him to listen to.

And then it hits you, Jungkook likes vocal women.

“Make me come please… Want you to make me come…” You moan, writhing around beneath him at the new found tingles all over your body. The cool air kisses your core when he spreads your thighs, sinking down the bed until he’s eye level with your bare pussy.

“Oh my god.”

His words win you to tug yourself up onto your elbows, a little curious. That’s when you find him staring at your vagina with pure astonishment. Lips ajar, brows hiked so far up his forehead that it’s wrinkled, a small surprised scoff hot against your flesh.

“What?” You frown, suddenly self-conscious, “What are you looking at?”

“What am I looking at?” He parrots, sighing with puffed out cheeks, “The prettiest pussy I’ve ever fucking seen, that’s what I’m looking at.”

“Oh.” You giggle, not knowing what to say.

You didn’t expect him to be so confident in the bedroom, so outspoken and complimentary. It’s no secret that he’s a very socially awkward man in the streets. Apparently a very different story to the personality he has between the sheets.

“You have the cutest little beauty mark…” He whispers, sinking his lips to your folds, “Right here.” He kisses you gently, and you feel like squealing. “Fuck, you’re addicting baby. Losing my mind down here.” He chuckles right before digging in.

He places a languid, drawn-out lick from your entrance to your clit, one so mind-numbingly slow that your toes curl against the sheets. He repeats this, once, twice, three, four, five times until he’s dipping his tongue between your folds with a whispered moan. It feels nice, feels good, but it's not enough.

“You plan on making me come any time soon, loser?” You playfully kick his shoulder, winning hot laughter against your centre.

It’s then that his arms hook under your thighs and he drags you closer to his waiting face, until his full lower-profile is smothered in your cunt. His chin, his multitalented lips, the soft bend of his nose, all of it. He playfully slaps your thighs and you take the hint, throwing your legs over those obnoxiously broad shoulders of his.

That’s when your guttural moan fills the air, when Jungkook starts lapping up your clit so expertly that you question whether the whole ‘shy, socially inept, cute boy’ persona he has going for him is just a façade.

He’s good at this. He’s fucking amazing at this. You’re gasping for air when he suckles on your clit, massaging the muscle with his tongue while it’s still being pulled between his lips. You groan, you hiss, you whimper. It feels indescribably fantastic, and there’s no way he’s not going to be able to get you off doing this.

“Holy shit, Jungkook.” You whine, hips pushing your core impossibly closer to his face. “Mmmph, oh—” Another long moan cuts you off, actually it’s more of a groan. A needy one at that.

His hooded stare flickers up to your face, watching your every move before him. “So sensitive.” He murmurs, sounding disbelieved.

Watching you wriggle and whimper for him only fuels his lust further. He takes it upon himself to push your legs onto your chest with one hand. Until your knees are to your breasts. You don’t complain at the new angle so he carries on, pulling away from your pussy for a second to spit on his fingers. Not that he thinks you’re going to need it, you're already drowning his sheets.

Unceremoniously he plunges two digits into you dripping walls, and you shriek.

“Jungkook, oh god, oh my god Jungkook…” You pant, eyes squeezed shut and mouth hanging open.

It’s a second later when his mouth reattaches to your clit and you’re borderline sobbing. You feel so full, like an elastic band being stretched to it’s limits. You’re going to snap soon, you know it. There’s a heat building in your gut, one that comes in rhythmic waves that match your racing heart.

That’s when something odd swells inside your stomach, something new and exciting and overwhelming. Jungkook’s fingers aren’t fucking in and out of you like you’d expect them to be, they’re consistently inside you, curling upward and pressing against a spot that very few people, yourself included, have ever managed to discover.

“Jungkook seriously what the-, fuck!” You warn him, eyes flying open in utter disbelief.

“Mmm?” He chuckles, his response lost to the sounds of your pornographically wet pussy squelching and sloshing around his fingers.

“I’m-, oh my fucking god…” You’re whining, whimpering, shivering. “Feels so fucking good.”

At this he moans in response, sucking your clit harder, hitting that spot inside you even harder, faster. You inhale sharply, preparing yourself for the earth-shattering ecstasy that’s sure to crash down on your body any second now. But strangely enough it isn’t the hold of your clit between your roommates lips that pushes you over the edge, nor is it the thrilling curl of his finger.

You peer down at him, his brows furrowed deep with concentration, the same way they are when he eats something delicious. His face is spinning and twisting to each and every side to make sure he’s licking and sucking all your nerve endings. And that’s when his heavy eyes flicker up at your mess of a face.

Jungkook winks.

And you squirt everywhere.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my fucking god!” You groan, watching the man who you’ve been simping over for years giggle against your skin as though he hasn’t just made a catastrophic mistake.

Because now you’ve experienced this side of him, there’s absolutely no way you can go back to just being roommates.

He doesn’t fold, doesn’t stop, nor does he slow. No. He carries on. Sucking, finger-fucking, licking, moaning, curling those digits and slurping at your pussy until it happens again. And again. And again.

And again.

“P-please…” Your body jumps and jolts on the mattress, convulsing from oversensitivity, your back damp with sweat and heart beating so fast you fear it’s going to implode any second now. “I-, I can’t take another one…” You pant, hands flying to the hairs at his scalp where you try and pry him aware from your core.

He hums in agreement, nodding along with your words all while wearing a big, dumb grin. “Okay.”

You’re fucked. Head spinning, reeling, brain unresponsive. Limbs already aching, you’ve never come this many times in one sitting to date. Not even with that ‘noisy-ass’ vibrator of yours. The distant sound of laughter forces you to come back to reality, finding Jungkook laid next to you with shiny lips and a wicked smirk. His head resting on the bend of his elbow, his pierced brow quirked curiously.

“I’ll give you a minute...” He’s laughing, tongue toying with his silver lip ring. A moment later he shifts on the bed, until he’s laid on his back and his entwined hands are tucked behind his head. A content smile broadens his features, a smug one, one that gives you a devilish idea.

Adrenaline and the need to have his cock inside you courses your veins, along with a hint of arrogance. That’s what leads you to sitting up, mouth falling open when you catch sight of Jungkook’s huge cock, rock hard and waiting. Oh you’re about to give him the best birthday present in the world. He wants a woman that can ride him? Who can last longer than four bounces?

Challenge accepted.

Carefully, you throw your leg over his waist until you’re hovering over his muscular body. He really is huge, by every ridiculous definition of the word. Lazily, he opens his eyes before they grow wide with surprise at your current position.

“Oh?” He chuckles, hungrily exploring your naked body with his stare, as though he hasn’t been ogling it for the past however long you’ve been in here. “I’ll warn you now, if you’re any good at this I’m gonna have to take you on a date.”

“We’re going out on a date regardless.” You snort, gripping the base of his shaft, shit, he’s big, “Since you’re the only guy around here who knows how to make me come.”

“Suits me just fine loser, I'll take you on a date. If you're lucky I'll make you squirt again at the dinner table.” He grins, wetting his lips. “Let me rephrase then, if you ride me like you mean it I’ll take you on the best date of your life this weekend.”

“Deal.” You wink, chest swelling.

You pump his cock a few times before you sink yourself down onto it with a long, shaky moan.

“Holy shit… baby…” He pants, tugging at his own hair with furrowed brows.

Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut but you can just about make out them rolling back into his skull behind his lashes. It’s when you’re fully settled onto his cock that you bite your lip, picking yourself up only to slam down onto him with a loud wet smack. His doe-eyes snap open at lightening speed, a drawn-out grown rumbling his strong chest.

“Fuck!” He gasps, jaw slack and eyes wide.

You grin down at him triumphantly, clearly he didn’t know you were capable of making him feel just as good as he made you feel. You repeat the motion, harder. You do it again, and again, until Jungkook’s hissing and messily gripping your hips in a hurry.

“Y/N… What the fuck?!” He stifles a moan when he bites his lip, mesmerised by the way your pussy squeezes his cock each and every time you pull yourself up and drop back onto it. “Seriously what the fuck are you made of, oh my-, fuck—”

It’s at this moment you brace yourself on his chest with splayed hands, keeping your body steady before you ride him like your existence depends on it. Like there’s no tomorrow. Like you’re the only two people on earth. There’s a hot burn in your thighs but you don’t let up, bouncing on him consistently, pace never faltering.

He’s so big that you fear you’ll split open, but you welcome the underlining sting of being this stuffed. Obscene wet noises along with the sound of the bed squeaking in sync with your movements fill the air. Beneath you Jungkook is a moaning mess, he’s chewing on his lips as though that’ll stop the profanities and groans from escaping him – but it doesn’t.

“Baby… Oh we definitely-, oh shit-,” He hisses, hands snaking round to your ass cheeks where he squeezes them like they’re his favourite stress-balls, “We should’ve done this-, way-, waaaay sooner.” He moans again, head thrown back into his pillow.

You’re slamming down on him with force, so much intent behind your bounces that the crown of his cock hits your cervix each time without fail. The sight before you will be burned into your memory forever. Jeon Jungkook, panting, whimpering, trying his absolute best to keep it together all while you ride him to heaven and hell and back again.

“You like it when I ride this fat cock of yours?” You moan, usually you’re not one for dirty talk but you simply can’t help yourself. He looks… Feral. And it’s only spurring you on even more. “You’re so big Jungkook, fuck, feels so fucking good inside me…”

“You-, you’re…” He can’t get his words out, they’re dying in the back of his throat, lost to the ‘mmmphs’ and ‘ooohhhs’ he delivers every time you drop down on him. “Do I l-like it? Fuck. Best-, mmmph, best fucking pussy... Slow down baby, please.” He whines, the sound has your lower abdomen in utter turmoil, another orgasm threatening to ripple your body.

You do as he says, he is the birthday boy after all. Besides, there’s no way in hell this is going to be the only time you’ll ride him. Your evenings together are going to look a whole lot different from now on, that's for sure.

The speed of your ministrations slows, but the depth and force does not. You’re still fucking yourself on his hard length with so much purpose that you feel his knees buckling, thick thighs twitching beneath you.

“Baby, fuck…” He rasps, “Ohhh fuck! Mmmph…” It’s like he’s mesmerised, mouth hanging open and eyes incapable of looking anywhere but you. He's completely infatuated with the way you feel atop of him.

You feel a hand snake up to the nape of your neck before you’re being pulled toward his face, his lips smashing against yours in another series of messy, desperate kisses. Gritting your teeth when the white hot heat inside your walls threatens to snap, Jungkook feels your sopping walls clench around his girth and groans into your mouth.

“Again? Ohhh...” He hisses, trying his best to sound cocky but it’s less than convincing when he too is a whimpering mess. “You’re a fucking goddess Y/N-, ohhhh.” He pants, finding your hips with tattooed hands where he holds them in place.

It’s a moment later when he plants his feet flat against the mattress, bending his knees, showcasing his strength when he keeps you in one place above him. That’s when he fucks you hard, as though he’s punishing you for something. Thrusting in and out of you so violently that you’re blubbering into the crook of his neck.

“Fuck! Right there, right fucking there!” You cry out, voice almost lost to the brutal clapping noises of you being fucked ten ways to Sunday.

Each rut of his hips has you seeing stars, he feels so fucking good inside you. So deep. His pelvis is knocking against your swollen clit, be it intentional or accidental you'll never know - but it has you spiralling into insanity.

A long, vocal moan tears from your throat when you’re hit with another orgasm. You feel boneless, as though you’ve just discovered the real definition of pleasure. You’re so wet that he’s sliding in and out of you with ease now, the pulsing of you walls throwing him over his own edge until he thrusts into you one final time.

It's deeper, he's holding your hips in place, dragging them impossibly closer to his body when he fills you with his come. Breathless and sweaty.

“Baby… Oh my… god.” He chokes out between ragged breaths, and you can’t help but giggle into his skin.

Moments later you’re rolling off him, too weak to adjust the position you land in but you do throw a leg over his thighs with a smile. Heavy breathing and quiet chuckles bring you back down to earth, forcing you to gaze over at your roommate.

Jungkook’s already looking at you like he’s madly in love, as though you’ve just offered to do this every day with him for the rest of your lives. When you wet your lips and smirk you register his cock twitching against his abdomen, he really is shameless. And by the look on his face, he isn’t even close to being through with you.

"Best. Birthday. Ever." He pants, absolutely befuddled that he's just had sex, mind-blowingly, indescribable sex with his roommate, the same roommate he's been fawning over for a long time now.

You send him a wink before pulling his face to yours, there's no fucking way you're done with him either.

“Happy birthday loser.”

#jungkook #jungkook oneshot #jungkook ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #happy birthday jungkook #jungkook fluff #roommate!jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook x you

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plant-based-feeder · 16 days

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At first, you thought I was just a guy who liked bigger girls.

I let you eat whatever you want, and never told you that you’ve had too much.

I loved your curves, and was happy to help you add to them.

We went on cute dates, with chocolate, flowers, and even cute gifts to show that I loved you.

We were active. We went to the gym, loved going on vacations, and always went out on the weekends.

After a few month, you had changed from a curvy girl with a big ass and tits with a slimmer waste into a chunky girl with an ass that jiggles with every step and a belly that always seems to form a muffin top.

Then, the day came when I admitted that I was a feeder. You loved me, so you decided to go along with it.

Now whenever we get food, I always add an extra entree, or dessert, or at least make sure you get snacks afterwards.

I don’t just love your curves. I want to see you expand. I love the stretch marks, and the cellulite, and the new rolls forming all over your body.

Every date turned into a buffet trip. No more flowers or chocolate. Just me delivering plate after plate to my porky girl until she can’t even squeeze herself out of the booth.

Every activity now revolved around making sure you were fed. Every vacation was now just an opportunity for me to fly you to a new city with new restaurants to try. Our weekend club visits turned into us getting wasted and ordering 5 pizzas for you to stuff down your gullet. The gym wasn’t even an option anymore.

You were already fat before we started this feedism thing, but now you were straight up obese. You were wide, with a shelf of an ass and a belly that had grown down past your fupa. You were easily five hundred pounds. You could barely walk twenty feet without getting winded, and I’m pretty sure you hadn’t drank anything but coke and milkshakes in months.

At this point, you were fully into this feedism thing. You wanted it just as bad as I did. We talked for hours about how big you could get, what meals you would eat, and how hot it was to destroy your body like this.

Finally, we decided it was time to go all in. All you wanted to do was gain weight, so that’s all you would have to do from now on.

You no longer ate meals. Every day just consisted of a torrential onslaught of food that I would force down your throat from the time you woke up until you fell into a food coma.

All we wanted was to see you gain. Folds on top of folds, stretch marks across your entire body, and a triple chin that covered your entire neck.

No more dates, just feedings. We would get creative. Sometimes I would force feed you until you were just a morsel of food away from popping. Other times I would let you eat an entire cake off your massive belly while I ate you out.

At this point, you never left the house. You could barely walk, so why bother. No clubs, no gym, no vacations. Just the inside of our house and a mountain of food.

You were absolutely, grotesquely massive. It was a miracle that you could still move at all. You were so fat that you covered our queen size bed from corner to corner. You massive tits spilled over the sides of your belly, and your fupa was now as large as your belly was when this all started.

You were gorgeous, but not perfect.

One day, while you were locked away in your food coma, I brought in a machine. A large container with a tube. As you slept, I slowly inserted the tube down your throat and into your stomach. Then, with one flip of the switch, your fate was sealed. You awoke with a jolt, grabbing at the hose with a panicked look in your eyes, but soon you realized what was happening. Our eyes met, and I knew that this is what you wanted.

For however long you would live after this point, there was never a moment you weren’t packed to bursting. Your belly was now so accustomed to being full that it ballooned up above you like a deep red mountain, weighing heavy on your insides. At this point, your mind was so focused on how close you were to bursting that you could no longer think for yourself.

It was pure bliss

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syoddeye · 2 months

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unsolicited

semi creepy little thing inspired by @pfhwrittes's incredible soap x reader roommate piece and this thought i had once upon a time. ~1k words. unedited, because i'm about to be dragged out to watch sports. gaz x reader. cw: dick pic, stalking, masturbation

“That one’s no good,” A tongue clicks.

You turn from your close study of the tube of tomato paste in your hand and find a man inches from your side. The aisle was empty save for you a second ago. Either he’s light on his feet or a ghost. A twinned tingling of your belly and spine fires off mixed signals to your brain: Are we scared or horny?

Both.

He's handsome—he knows it, too, judging by the hook of his smile and the slight crinkle of his nose. He sports a scar on his cheek and the right amount of stubble. He looks down at you, all smug, like he's saved you from an unforgivable culinary mistake. He tears his deep brown eyes off you to reach toward the top shelf and selects a beautifully branded sealed box of paste. It's artisanal, not within your price range, and he sets it in your handbasket like you're shopping for dinner together.

“You’ve got to treat yourself to nice things once in a while.”

Oh, he thinks he’s so quick with it, doesn’t he?

You smile so wide it pushes the apples of your cheeks up like a cartoon chipmunk. It usually does the trick of deterring smarmy little bastards like this one. “Wow, thank you, what a gentleman.” The feigned saccharine lilt of your voice hurts after a long day on the phone, but the look on his face when you swap the pastes is worth it. You leave the fancy one on the shelf and continue down the aisle for pappardelle.

He finds you in produce. He doesn’t immediately approach, giving you space while you grab an onion and garlic, but he circles.

“So, what’s on our menu tonight?” He asks, inspecting the leek as you place a vine of tomatoes into the basket. He’s too close again. His hand lowers the vegetable to his own haul, purposefully skimming your skirt with the spindly leaves, letting the texture catch the fabric before he drops it in. Nutcase.

“I’m making pasta for my friends.”

He chuckles.

The dance continues around the store. He’s clearly following you through the store, not trying to hide it at all. He ‘helps’ you at the dairy. Heavy cream’s better than light, don’t you think? The spices. Babe, we can afford name brand. The meat counter. Bacon? No, no, here. Pancetta. You want that meat. Trust me. He’s insistent and inappropriate, yet his voice drips with the weirdest charm. Calls you ‘babe’ and ‘sweetheart’. You let him continue. You should find an employee and tell him to buzz off, but he’s not really doing anything other than raising your grocery budget. Maybe you do deserve nice things, though. You sit on a seesaw, bouncing between sick interest and appropriate unease.

You’d always been a thrill-seeker, but stringing along a beautiful, perverted, and officious stranger? Were your last few dates so terrible?

By the time you reach checkout, you’re bored of his antics. He must be desperate to seal the deal and get your number, given how his approach escalates to trying to pay for your groceries.

“Is he bothering you?” The cashier asks bluntly, glaring daggers at your shadow. At the end of the counter, the bag boy’s head pops up, eyes wide at the question.

You glance at the hand, reaching past again to place a card on the counter. You catch half a name. Kyle. You look at the older man. “Yes, yes, he is.”

It’s a wonder what a few strategic smiles can do. They’re catnip to men like Gerald, the store manager who walks you out. He’s soft-spoken and apologetic and slips you a gift card. Your groceries are free, and so is next week’s haul if you promise to remain a loyal customer. If being followed by a harmless model of a man pays for your food, you’ve done stranger things for money.

Still, you take the long way to Alyssa’s and look over your shoulder. That night, over pappardelle alla Fiesolana, Grocery Kyle becomes a joke. A morbid fantasy you and your friends giggle over between glasses of wine. He becomes a real fantasy that night when you snake your hands between your legs beneath the duvet and imagine him smirking down at you. Condescending the whole time, he talks you through it. He’s the type that likes the sound of his own voice. Your fingers curl, and you cum at the idea of him scolding you for being so easy.

The following day, somewhat hungover on your couch, you warm your hands with coffee and open Instagram. One new follower. It's not so odd; you have hundreds of followers. Mostly bots at this point, but you're too lazy to weed them out. You don't post as often anymore, either, nor do you share exciting things. Flowers, cats you meet on your walks, and the rare selfie. So when you see that the new follower liked a photo from nine years ago, that sick little twinge sparks something in your belly. A spark that grows when another notification pops up. And another. They're on a liking spree, driving through your memory lane.

When they like your very first post on the account, an awkward self-portrait in front of your first-year dorm eleven years ago, you finally investigate.

‘Sgt141’ has no profile photo. No description. No followers. No posts. Only follows you. It’s another bot spamming your notifications for some unknown reason.

You forget about it until you post a selfie from the gym two weeks later. Nothing scandalous, just showing off your growing biceps. Sgt141 is the first to like it, and minutes later, you receive a DM request. You fully expect a generic chain, formulaic message about being your own boss. The dick is a surprise.

A very pretty and completely unsolicited surprise.

In an instant, you know whose dick you’re looking at.

You should be scared and report the message instead of screenshotting it. You should be disgusted, alarmed, and probably crying. Not stuffing your hand down your shorts.

Definitely shouldn’t respond.

> someone got a crush?

>> you have no idea.

> following me around the grocery store did it for you?

>> did a lot for me, actually.

> maybe you can follow me around the mall next time.

sgt141 changed the theme to Love.

#kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #cw stalking #cw unsolicited dick pic

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kenuis · 8 months

Text

Come Through and Chill || plug!draken x fem!reader

You were just supposed to pick up some bud for the weekend... so how did you end up in bed with the hottest plug around?

Cw:weed, pussy eating, finger sucking, ptv, dirty talk, squirting, draken has a big cock (like coke can thick), belly bulge, pet names (baby, angel, good girl), not beta read (we die like men)

WC: 7.9 k I don't wanna talk about it.

Extra: Plug! Draken playlist.

‘Come through as soon as you’re off work, I got you.’

Blinking down at your bright phone screen you blink once, then twice. You hadn’t expected him to respond that quick in all honesty. “Hey girl.”

“Umm hello?!”

“Hey!”

You jolt as your friend calls your name, an amused tilt to her voice as she takes in your blotchy red cheeks. Tucking your phone away lightning quick you clear your throat, slumping back against the counter. “Are you sure you don’t wanna come out tonight?” Shaking your head, you cross your arms over your midsection as she tosses you a knowing smirk. You chew on your lower lip as trays of food and drinks whizz by you. Your legs and feet ache, hours of doing exactly what your co-workers are currently doing wearing on you. Your closest work friend raises her eyebrows as she leans her elbow against the shelf opposite of you. “So what’s the big plan then if you’re gonna be all by your lonesome?” You shrug, tucking your hands in your hoodie pockets, rubbing your finger over the ring that lays on your thumb. It’s a nervous habit you haven’t quite learned how to break. The spinning of the metal helps to center your thoughts as you stand there. You’ve already ordered a meal to take home after your shift, a bottle of wine in your fridge and endless hours of Netflix to carry you through the next few hours that will bleed into your first two solid days off in over a week. There was only one thing you were missing. Your phone buzzes again and your eyebrows hit your hairline.

`1 location attached.`

‘No rush though, just wanna make sure you find the place okay.’

A place you’d been quite a few times if you recalled correctly. Sure the nights of partying were a little hazy, but you’d been to this particular spot enough times to know your way on your own.

‘I’ll let you know when I’m on my way, it shouldn't be too much longer.’

“Umm, just gonna pick up some smoke and then go home and veg. I’ve worked so many doubles over the past week.” It’s your co workers turn for her eyebrows to hit her hairline. Her smirk grows and the amused tone in her voice quickly turns to teasing as she straightens up to pinch your cheeks.

“Ohhh you’re gonna go see that hot ass mechanic that was eyeing you up last weekend.”

You smack her hand away, trying to hide the way your face burns. “it’s not like that, I swear.”

“Suuuure.” She grabs your chin in her hand, squishing your cheeks together while she makes you look at her. “Is that why you gave him your number the last time we pulled through there? Cause you ‘just need bud.’” She giggles as she makes air quotes with the other hand. Letting out a snort, you manage to smack her hands away. “I’m serious!” Laughing you grab the to go box as the cook behind the window calls your name out. You grab what you’ve been waiting on and book it out the door, trying to ignore her hoots and hollers of, `it’s about damn time.`

The night air is sticky, twilight blues and purple mixing with the fading pink and orange that paints the sky that’s about to throw her dark blanket of night over. Your keys dangle from your hand, jingling together as you walk towards your car. I

t’s a perfect evening, with most of the summer heat knocking out of the air the darker it got. Setting your food and bag in the passenger seat, you pull your phone out as you fiddle around with the stereo system. Bobbing your head along to the song that starts, you find the last message thread you had pulled up on your phone. ‘Draken’ complete with a little dragon emoji makes you roll your eyes.

‘On my way. Be there in 20.’

‘Perfect. It’s right under the mat, just like I said. Enjoy, angel.’

Confused.

That’s the first feeling that creeps up on you as you walk down the hallway to his apartment. Usually it’s louder, a whole crowd that normally gathers here on Friday and Saturday evenings. There’s almost always music going, laughter coming from inside, the smell of food. It’s why you’d asked him to leave what you needed somewhere you could find it. The thought of being around tons of people after a long day of serving customers made you want to curl up in a ball, hidden away from the world.

Checking your watch you let out a small ‘huh’. It wasn’t late at all. 9pm glows up at you from your watch. It was early sure but still by now there would be at least some type of noise coming from the apartment.

Shrugging it off as you walk up to the door, you crouch down. Fingers brushing the rough edge of the door mat, you lift it only to find it empty underneath. Your brow knits together as you lift the entire thing only to find nothing but cold concrete staring up at you. Rising with a groan, you brush your hands off, watching as dust falls to the cement below your feet. Raising a fist, you almost hesitate, but as your foot hits the edge of the mat, another flash of annoyance shoots through you.

All your weekend plans consisted of were your tv, your snacks, your wine and unfortunately, his bud. Letting out a sharp sigh, you knock, the rapping of your knuckles on the black door breaking apart the silence that hangs heavy in the hallway.

Rocking back and forth on your heels as you wait, you pull your phone out. No new notifications flash on the screen and you open your messages, shooting one off before you knock again. You hear the chime of his phone and cross your arms over your mid section, waiting as you hear footsteps approaching the door. You turn your head to look over your shoulder, seeing that you’re still alone in the hallway when the door swings open, causing you to stop short and your mouth to dry out all in one swoop when you turn back to look at him.

The first thing you note is that he’s fresh out of the shower. A wafting scent of fresh pine, whatever scented soap he uses drifting across your nose. It tickles your senses, drifting into your nose. But that’s not where your eyes zero in.

Your eyes flick down to the exposed skin of his abdomen. He’s in the middle of pulling on a black t-shirt, the material catching and sticking to still wet skin. Water droplets roll down the ridges of his muscles, carving a wet path that your tongue would kill to follow. His abdomen is on a brief display for you, each outline of solid muscle searing into your mind’s eye. The deep V of his hips seem like they were chiseled out of marble, something you would find in the finest art galleries.

Your eyes flick back up, trying to pull your attention away from the hard lines and dips in his skin. His shirt flutters into place but at this point none of that even helps.

Wide eyes catch the dip of confusion in his brows, the way they knit together as dark eyes take in your form in front of him. Trailing down to see the frown that tugs at the corner of his mouth, pink lips opening and forming words. Forming words? Shit, he was talking to you and you couldn’t get your eyes off the droplet of water that trailed down his neck and clavicle, disappearing underneath his shirt. It warps around the gold chain that he pulls out of his collar and your stomach rolls at how insanely attractive the motion of his fingers and the sparkling gold against his skin is. “-okay angel?” Snapping your eyes to his, you swallow dryly . He raises a brow at you now, the tiniest upturn of his lips and the amusement that flashed through his eyes has you flushing. He definitely caught you checking him out. Finally your brain catches up to what he’s asked you. “Everything okay angel?” Blinking quickly, you look down at your feet, shoes scraping the doormat. It reminds you of the reason you knocked on the door in the first place. Looking back up at him, your lips curl over your teeth by a fraction. Frustration returns to your body, grounding you as you seem to snap out of your thoughts.

“Yeah uhhh.” The edge of your shoe catches the welcome mat and you nudge it. “I’m missin’ a little something.” His brows dip again, but then an exasperated sigh is falling from his lips and a light dusting of pink dances across the tip of his nose up to his ears. One hand comes up to scratch the back of his neck, his bicep straining against the arm of the t-shirt he’d just put on. His other hand tucks into the pocket of his gray sweats. “Fuck I got caught up. Lowkey I was supposed to put your shit under the door when I got home and I had to handle something on the phone so I forgot.” He looks so endearingly bashful, the annoyance that has settled in your chest dissipates like smoke. Awkwardly, you scuff your toe against the ground, shrugging as nonchalantly as you can manage. “It’s fine I just, was hopin to get it and go.”

“Here, come on in and I’ll get it for you.” He moves to the side, a jerk of his chin the only hint of an invite you get to coming inside. Still feeling awkward inside of your own skin, you follow him in, arms still crossed like a shield. You offer him a tiny half smile as you cross the threshold, moving past him. There’s a crackle of electricity as you move past him that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up straight.

Chewing on the corner of your lip as you turn to look at him, you find heated and amused onyx eyes trained on you, His mouth tugs up in the corner again and a smirk spreads across his cheeks. “Whatcha lookin so nervous for?” He moves past you, his movements, fluid and smooth. When he moves past you, he glances slightly over his shoulder with a wink. “I don’t bite. Come on, my shit’s in my room.” There’s a heat that crawls up your neck and face, and you’re sure that your whole face is on fire as you trail behind him, hands going into your hoodie pockets. You’ve left your shoes at the front door, and your socked feet pad quietly behind him. “Didn’t say you did. Just kinda weird in here when ‘s quiet.” He chuckles as he opens the door to a room you recall being in once. It’d been filled with hazy smoke, and there’d been people packed in here like sardines, passing around blunts and listening to bass heavy music. You also briefly remember that it’s the night he put his number in your phone. You’d been leaning against the desk that night, while he sat in his desk chair right next to you.

At one point you’d been zoned out, sufficiently buzzed and listening to all the noise around you. A single finger had looped in your belt loop and tugged to get your attention. He’d checked on you, made sure you were good and given you water, watching with eyes that were more alert than they should have been for someone who had smoked as much as he had. His finger stayed hooked in the belt loop of your shorts the entire conversation and he’d only let go when your friends called your name, dragging you out of the room. But not before he’d tugged on your shorts, plucking your phone out of your back pocket. He put his number in and shot you a look that could only be described as heated. “In case you’re ever in need of some good bud.” Recalling the heat that had flowed in between the two of you, you want to bolt out of there like the entire place is on fire. It’s unnerving, it makes your insides hot and the feeling makes something in you burn specifically for the man in front of you to look at you the way he did just a mere week ago. “Yeah, ‘s a lil weird when people aren’t here but it’s nice to have a quiet night in. My roommates are both out tonight. Eatin’ at your joint tonight I think Did you just get out of work?” He takes a seat at his desk, turning the chair so he’s facing you. He pats the bed that’s pushed up next to it, motioning for you to take a seat.

Hopping up, you nearly groan in relief at being off your feet and something so soft. His eyebrows raise as he pulls out a scale, a jar full of bud and a small green pill bottle from the bottom drawer of his desk. “You good?” If your face gets any hotter, you’re pretty sure you’re going to resemble the surface of the sun. “Yeah I’m good. Just had a long day at work. I opened the restaurant this morning and ended up staying later than I mean to cover one of the other girls who was late and…” You trail off with a shrug as you tuck your hands into the sleeves of your oversized hoodie. “I didn’t realize how much my feet hurt until I sat down.” “Mmmm.” He makes a non committal noise as he measures out product. Long deft fingers are fucking with the scale, placing a pill bottle on it and dropping little green nugs into it. “You said 3gs right?” “Uh yeah. Don’t need much, just a little to relax this weekend. I finally have a weekend off and I’m gonna take full advantage of it.” You grin despite yourself, thoughts of a freshly rolled blunt and food with a bottle of wine and the softness of your couch filling you with happiness.

“Damn girl, look at you.” The tips of your ears start to feel the same heat as your face as he looks at you with a teasing grin. “Got any specific plans?” “I’m going to melt into my couch and not move for three days.” You bite your lower lip when he fully turns to you, a thoughtful look crossing his handsome face. He twirls the pill bottle in his fingers as he looks at you, eyes half lidded with an emotion you’re not sure you want to name.

The both of you are friends, acquaintances really and you’re not entirely sure if you’re ready to cross the line to anything besides that. But the way he’s looking at you promises something inevitable. He holds the bottle out for you and before your fingertips even brush it, he snatches it back towards himself, a smirk planted on his mouth. “How about you start your relaxing weekend here?”

Your brows furrow and your lip sticks out in the softest pout. A sharp protest sits at the tip of your tongue and you can’t help the whine that comes out in your tone. “Hey!”

“How about… You start the relaxation now?” Your brow furrows as he speaks, confusion flitting across your face. You stare at him for a long moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“What do you mean?” “I mean, smoke with me.” He leans backwards in his chair, reaching for a pack of blunts. Honey white owls, the same as he had at the party. It’s a good flavor, one of your favorites and it’s so tempting to start now. His bed is soft and his room is surprisingly clean, and it smells like a mix of his cologne and extremely good bud. Plus it’s one on one time that you two have never had before outside of a stolen moment of him grabbing you a drink in the middle of one of his and his roommate’s parties. “Come on angel, I don’t bite and it looks like you could use the chance to unwind.” “I have food in the car.” It’s the only thing that comes out when your mouth opens even though the word ‘yes’ lingers on the tip of your tongue. “I don’t want it goin bad or anything…” Trailing off, when his onyx orbs stay planted on yours, you realize that any argument is futile and you sigh. The mega watt grin that he gives you speaks of his satisfaction over his victory and he holds his hand out. “Gimme your keys. I’ll bring your food in and put it in the kitchen for ya.” Smacking your lanyard in his outstretched palm, you can’t help but roll your eyes at his instance and the boyish charm that drifts across his face. In exchange, he plops a rolling tray in your lap with strict instructions to start rolling while he gets your things sorted.

This is crazy. Absolutely insane that one smile from this male had you turning into putty in front of him and you grumble under your breath but get to rolling away. When he walks out it’s silent except for the sounds of the metal grinder in your hands.

It’s a familiar mindless process of rolling, and you do it quickly and efficiently. By the time he walks back in with your purse in hand you’re licking the end of the blunt wrap to seal it. His eyes flick down to your pink tongue that sticks out from your pretty glossed lips. You don’t even notice as you’re focused on what you’re doing, brow furrowed cutely in frustration.

“Lemme see how good you did ma.” Your eyes flick up to his at the use of the pet name at the end of his sentence and you give him a bland look that has his lip tugging up in a smile again. You hand him the blunt before leaning forward to place his rolling tray on the desk, not realizing as you do that he’s already walking forwards. Your shoulder bumps into his abdomen, the same chiseled one you spotted earlier when he was sliding his shirt on.

You scowl when you hear his low chuckle sound throughout the room. “If you wanted to hug me that badly you should have asked.” Your lip curls over your teeth as he plops down on the bed in front of you. “You think you’re real slick aren’t you?” “I know I am.” He throws you a wink as he polyps down on the bed, leaning against the wall as you lean back against the headboard, pulling your knees up. Pulling a lighter from his pocket, he hands the blunt back to you along with the lighter. “Guests light up.” “Thanks.” There’s a soft shick of the lighter sparking, and then a sizzle as you hold it to the end of the blunt and inhale. Draken doesn’t say anything while you take your first deep inhale, instead opting to turn on the bluetooth speaker that rests on the shelf mounted to the wall above his bed. There’s a gentle boom of the system connecting, and then a few notes fill the room before music starts to flow out. Despite your reservations your shoulders relax a fraction as you blow out the smoke you’ve held in, the familiar pepper and citrus taste of the bud heavy in your airway and drifting over your tongue. You take another deep inhale, deep enough to make your lashes flutter and you’re completely unaware of the eyes that are currently glued to your face.

Draken doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone as pretty as you. All soft curves and shiny locks. A pretty smile that stretches wide over your cheeks. The way your head tilts back a little when you laugh and your nose scrunches. Truthfully, he was floored the first time you rolled up with your friends at one of the infamous house parties. You looked so out of place, skittish and shy until your friend shoved a blunt in your direction and told you to relax. Come to find out there’s a little fire, a spark that simmers underneath the shy outer shell. He can’t help that you’re intriguing enough for him to want to know what it looks like when you strip away all the layers to where you burn. Burn for him.

Your eyes open as you let out your second inhale and you lean forward, holding out the blunt for him. Your small, soft hands brush past his large calloused ones and the warmth that radiates off of them makes him want to groan as he thinks about how they would look wrapped around his length. He has to fight the temptation to grab one down while he places the blunt to his lips, right in the place where your glossed lips have been.

The cherry flavor from your lips gloss lingers on the blunt, mixing with the flavor of weed and the blunt wrap. His mind drifts to the thought of what you would taste like. If he sucks your tongue, would you taste like cherry and bud and something else? He inhales and looks at you again through heavy lids. Truthfully he’d smoked half a blunt the minute he’d gotten off work, but the thought of sharing one with you was too tempting to pass up.

When you’d sunk onto his mattress like it was your salvation he jumped at his chance and for now, he can tell he made the right call.

Now that he’s got you here though, there’s a little bit of hesitancy that lingers in the pit of his stomach. It’s been a long time since he’s tried something like this with someone who’s caught his attention like you have. It makes his insides churn with anticipation and he can’t help but sigh out his inhale, the smoke curling out of his mouth. One of the first things he noticed about you is that you don’t have the need to fill the silence with empty words. You’re content sitting with him in the silence, and it’s something he appreciates after a full day of dealing with customers. He takes his second inhale before he’s handing the blunt back. His eyes stay on yours when he wonders when this.. Tension that’s been building between the two of you is going to pop.

It’s like a bubble that traps the two of you in it, but instead of expanding, it shrinks, pressing down and pushing you two into each other. It’s been a month and a half since the first time you graced his doorstep and he’s thought of you every other minute since.

You’re about halfway through the blunt when you let out a sigh, sinking a little further into the pillows. You lick your lips and he tracks the way the tip of your tongue wets your plus mouth. Bloodshot eyes drift up to look into his, and he watches as a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “Thanks for this. I really needed it.” “Any time angel. You know. You’re kind of my favorite customer. Although you can’t tell anyone else that. They might start askin’ for special treatment and then I’ll be outta a side hustle.” He reaches over and grips your ankle, tugging a little in jest. His thumb brushes over the pretty anklet dangling around it and the minute the metal hits his thumb something shifts.

He traces the delicate gold chain, running his thumb over the tiny links. It glints against your skin, a little angel dangling from the chain and resting against the hollow of your ankle. A low dangerous chuckle vibrates through his chest even though the energy in the room is anything but light hearted. “Guess I was spot on with the nickname.”

“Yeah…” Your voice is just as low as his, as if, if you speak too loudly you’ll break whatever tentative vibe has taken over the room. “Um Draken?” “Ken.” He mumbles it as he moves, leaning a little closer. He leans on his elbow with your feet near his abdomen, nearly laying on his side as he blinks over at you. “Call me Ken.” “Ken..” The sound of his name leaving your mouth in a near whimper does him completely in.

Before he thinks too much, before his nerves get the best of him, he places the blunt directly in between your lips. There’s not much left to it, maybe one last hit. “Finish it.” There’s a soft demand in his tone and the feeling in his chest gives way to admiration as you do exactly as you’re told. “Ash tray is on the desk.” He murmurs the sentence out as he presses his lips directly to your anklet. You let out a soft whine before you swallow dryly, half lidded eyes taking in the sight of this big broad man laying the softest kidd on your skin. “I…” “You can tell me to stop when you want me to.” He looks up at you, his nose skimming the skin of your calf. The sight of it, the heat from the weed and the overall tension pops as you shake your head. “Don’t… Please don’t stop.” Your cheeks burn even hotter than before when he grins a heated smile up at you. Your breath starts to come a little faster as he works his way up your leg, large, rough, warm calloused hands moving up your calves to the back of your knees, spreading them wide enough for him to slot himself between. His hands don’t stop moving, massaging your sore calves. His fingers knead the knotted muscles so expertly and gently, you can’t help but melt into the touch. Your eyes slide shut and your mouth drops open in a groan. The moment your attention is off of him, he takes his chance, grabbing you and sliding your hips forward. You yelp in surprise when your back meets the mattress and he gives another deep chuckle, one that shoots a bolt of heat straight to your core. You’ve always been touchy when high, when your senses are heightened to a point where pleasure gets overwhelming. You swallow thickly and open your eyes so they’re glued to his. The music in the room continues to fill the space where both of you linger, and you’re unwilling to break the vibe besides a groan when his hands move from your calves to the top of your thighs. Squirming despite yourself, your eyes finally fall from his to where the backs of your thighs rest on the top of his. He’s broad in between your legs and your heart jumps in your chest as he moves to sit back on his heels. Draken’s - no Ken - is glued to the apex of your thighs, right where your clothed core rests. It’s right below his growing erection and the sight of you squirming underneath it makes him impossibly harder. “Fuck that’s a fuckin’ pretty sight.” You may have been unwilling to break the silence but a high Ken is also a vocal and touchy Ken. Reaching down, his hands skim up your thighs, over the flesh of your plush ass to your waist. He grips it hard, tugging you to sit up so he can slot his mouth against yours. Even cotton mouthed from smoking, it’s the sloppiest kiss of your life, His soft lips meet yours and he presses hard, claiming your mouth. He consumes you, prying your mouth open with his tongue. He strokes it against yours, one of his hands coming up to thread in the strands of hair at the nape of your neck. His fingers thread into your hair and he tugs, tilting your head back so your throat is exposed. A whimper leaves your throat and small hands come up to clutch at his forearms.

You push back against him, tentatively letting your tongue meet his, stroke for stroke. There’s little strings of saliva that connect the two of you when he finally finds it in him to pull away. It’s lewd and wet, your eyes glazed over as they flick down to take in the sight. The hand on your waist leaves, coming up to tap on your lower lip. “Open.” The command is stern, growled out in impatience until you obey, mouth dropping open. You cling to the edges of your shyness, and as much as he finds it endearing, he’s waited too long for this. “Stick out your tongue.” You’re practically panting as you do as you’re told and two fingers are laid on the wet pink muscle, rubbing against it. Your eyes widen and another whine slides out around his fingers, muffled and wet. “There we go. Feels good doesn’t it?” This man hasn’t even gotten you out of your clothing and you feel like you’re going to cum already. How he figured out your oral fixation you’ll never know but he’s exploiting it to it’s extent, moving his fingers in and out of your mouth. All you can do is cling to him and suck, little whimpers and moans falling out around his large fingers. Your hips start moving on their own accord, rolling against him until he’s tugging you into his lap, settling your aching core over his tented sweats. His hand in your hair trails down to your hip, rolling you over his erection with a groan. Every noise you make spurs on his insatiable need, and even though he feels impatient, even though he feels like tearing through every layer of clothing you two currently have on, it’s nothing compared to the desperate way your hips are chasing your high.

“Shhhhh.” The hand at your hip cups your ass, squeezing the denim of your shorts. The seam presses into your dripping core, the pressure of it and his length currently pressing into it with every roll of your hips makes electricity creep up your spine. Your eyes widen and you begin sucking his fingers even harder as the band in your belly starts to tighten. “Go ahead. Go ahead angel, show me how good this feels.”

Your eyes drift shut and your brow furrows just as cutely as he knew it would. A single tear gathers on the corner of your shut eye and with a shudder you come apart on top of him, just from him grinding you down on him and letting you suck on his fingers. He guides your hips against him the whole way through it, waiting until your mouth lets up on his fingers. Waits until the fierce sucking of his fingers eases into small kitten licks and your hips slow to a stop.

“That good baby?”

You can’t believe you feel this good already. Your mind is already halfway numb from a combination of the weed and his overwhelming presence, but a shyness lingers around the edges of your psyche and you can’t help the flush that takes over your cheeks. His fingers draw out slow, gentle as he drags them down your lower lip and over your chin. Realization of how easily he’s turned you to putty in his hands washes over you and your eyes widen a fraction.

Embarrassed, you lean forward, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. His entire chest rumbles with a deep laugh that sounds more like a rumble. “I.. I’m sorry I….”

He shifts, moving the both of you. Your world spins and all of a sudden you find yourself still in his lap, but now he’s got his back against the headboard. “That was the hottest thing I’ve seen in a long fuckin time.” Opening your mouth to apologize for a second time, you don’t even have the chance to say a single word when his mouth claims yours again. This kiss is hotter than the last one, a new burning passion to see you fall apart coming through every stroke of his lips. He swallows your whines, only breaking apart from you whip your shirt and hoodie off of your frame. You can’t even believe for a second that you let him, raising your arms to help. The sight of you sitting there in your pretty lace bra lights an even hotter fire in onyx orbs. Fingers dance up your spine while he brings his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking a line across your jaw and down your neck. You melt, hands slipping underneath his shirt to trace your fingers along the ridges of his abdomen. You trace every muscle with curious fingertips until you splay your palms flat on his stomach pushing his shirt up and over his head. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty.” The compliment flows from his lips as he sucks on your collar bone. You’re grateful you have the next three days off, because the marks he’s leaving are going to be impossible to cover up. Another soft whine leaves your lips as his tongue flattens and runs over the swell of your breast. The sight of it makes fire lick up your insides but a flash of silver in the middle of the pink muscle makes you stop cold. He has a fucking tongue piercing.

Currently he’s using that to his advantage as he slides your bra off, gathering both of your breasts in his hands and kneading the fat as he pushes them together. “Pretty fuckin’ tits. Fuckin’gorgeous.” His thumb swirls over your nipple before he’s dragging his tongue over it so the ball of his piercing flicks it hard. You squeal, squirming in his hold. You’re tempted to dart out of his lap, roll off of him and take a breather but he bucks his hips up at the same time he scrapes his teeth across the stiffened peak and your head tips back, another sinful moan falling from your mouth.

He shifts and the world spins again, your back hitting the plush mattress as he leans over you, raining kisses down your rib cage, sucking on the skin so hard it bruises. He does this in a path all the way down your abdomen, and you never thought you’d be this needy after already cumming, but there is a pulsing want and ache that only he can fill pulsing in between your legs. You’re practically panting by the time he reaches the spot you need him the most.

Your thighs are practically shaking when his big hands grab the back, pushing them towards your chest. A sharp nose runs up the seam of your shorts up to the button. “W-Wait, I…” “God you smell so fuckin good. I gotta taste you baby. Need to see how pretty she looks after she came for me.” Dark lashes brush his cheek bones as he looks up at you and pops the button of your shorts open with his teeth. You swallow thickly and thread your fingers into his hair, almost tugging it free from the ponytail it’s in as you lift your hips for him to slide your shorts off.

The rumbling growl that leaves his chest makes your eyes roll back, and your weeping hole to clench around nothing. His thumbs come up to your folds, spreading them open for him as you buck your hips up, chest heaving with deprived pants. “Please. Please.” You beg without even really knowing what you’re begging for, just needing something, anything to relieve the fire that’s starting to consume. Your high still hasn’t worn off and the extra sensitivity from where his touch presses into you is driving you close to the edge. “Ken, please.”

“Look at me.” His rough tone is demanding, drawing your attention to him as your mouth twists in desperation. “Keep your eyes on me or I stop. Ya hear me angel?”

You nod, but his hand darts out to grab your jaw, squeezing your cheeks until you speak, your tone cracking a little with want. “Yes, I hear you.” “Good girl.” His eyes stay on yours as he dips down, releasing your jaw in favor for spreading you wider. He purses his lips, before he lets out a long string of saliva, thumbs spreading you open again so he can watch as it drips in between your folds. You clench even though you’re achingly empty, a soft gasp filling the air in between you too. It bleeds into loud keen when his mouth finally touches you.

He sucks one of your folds into his mouth and your hands tighten in his hair as he alternates, sucking them until they turn puffy, swollen and aching with need. He moans into your pussy, running his tongue through your slick until the ball of his piercing flicks harshly against your clit. A squeal sounds from above him and he does it again, over and over until you’re bucking wildly onto his tongue.

He should prep you. He needs to prep you but your walls are already to spasm around his tongue and he’ll be damned if he lets you come anywhere but his cock.

Pulling away and sitting up just enough to work his dick out, he thrusts forward, his heavy, thick cock smacking against your abdomen. Your eyes fly open and you look down, letting out a desperate whine when you realize his length extends well past your belly button.

He’s got the prettiest, heaviest cock you’ve ever seen. Swollen and red, the slit weeping pretty pearls of precum that streak your stomach as he lets his length smack down on your abdomen again. “‘S not gonna fit.”

You look up at him with wide watery eyes, lips parted as you pant despondently. But no matter how much your voice shakes, your hips move, trying to slip him inside as desire takes over every cell in your body. “Ken, ‘s not gonna-” He chuckles breathlessly, sweat starting to break out on his hairline as he draws back to rub the aching head of his cock along your folds. “‘S gonna fit angel. Imma make it fit.” Slowly, he pushes in, head tilting back as he starts to push in despite the resistance he’s met with. You’re so fuckin’ tight he’s pretty sure that he’s already ready to blow his load and he’s only got the tip in. “Goddamn. Fuuuuuck.” The little high pitched whines that fall from your plush mouth and he can’t helo but reach down and grab your waist in his broad hands. Grip bruinsingly tight, he fucks into you, pulling out and fucking back in shallowly, inch by agonizing inch. Your pussy is gripped around him so tight it’s practically strangling his cock. “Relax ‘f me. God you’re so fuckin’ tight angel. Need you to relax.” A shuddering breath leaves your mouth, and his thumb drifts down to the little bundle of nerves that pokes out, working it in slow circles. Your thighs shake even more as you give. Your walls relax, eyes rolling back as his entire length finally sinks into you. A wet cry leaves your throat as tears leak from your eyes and the man above you lets out a moan so deep you feel it in your own soul. “There it is. Fuckin’ took the whole thing. Such a good girl.” Your hands grip the sheets, lower lip trembling as a tiny sob leaves your mouth. “Ken… so full. I’m so full. ‘S too big Ken. ‘S too fucking bi-” Before you can finish your sentence he’s pulling out and sliding back in, using the grip he has on your waist to drag you up and down his length. You cry out, loud and high as he bumps into your cervix. Your chest heaves and you squeeze your eyes shut as he starts to move you up and down. He’s so big and broad and strong all you can do is lay there and take it as he moves you up and down, eyes glued to the way your slick is coating his cock, how some of it sticks to his abdomen. Strings of slick connect the two of you as he moves you, practically the length of his cock, soaking even his thighs. One of his warm palms spreads out over your abdomen and he pushes down on the bulge that’s appeared. His mouth practically pours out filth as he pushes on his cock pushing through your stomach and you scream his name. “Fuck baby. Look at that. Pokin’ through your stomach. You look so fuckin sexy like this. So fuckin pretty all fucked out on my cock. You like that baby?” You nod, sobbing as he starts to move you faster, your clit hitting his pelvis with every rough smack of his hips. The orgasm that hits you, hits you out of nowhere, hard and fast and so overwhelming that you see nothing but pure white. “‘M cummin’ fuck fuck fuck fuck ‘m cummin!” Your legs kick out and shake as your cream around his cock, a frothy ring of white forming as he fucks you. He hasn’t let up, his grip still tight on your waist as he moves you, rolling his hips into and fucking you onto him. His head dips down into the crook of your neck, heavy pants brushing past the skin of your neck as you sob and keen through your orgasm. Your hands fly up to bury into his hair, moving until your arms are wrapped around his neck. All you can do is hang on as he fucks up into, using your body for his pleasure. “Takin’ my cock so fuckin’ well angel. You were made for it. Made to take my cock.” His breath stutters on the sentence as your velvet walls pulse around him and you whimper, your nails digging into his muscular shoulders. His masculine scent envelopes you, and everything about him crowds your senses as he drives into you. The entire room is filled with the sounds of your slick squelching around his cock, the cries that fall from your mouth and the filthy words he breathes harshly into your ear.

“I’m gonna fill you up. I have to. Have to fill this fuckin’. Perfect. Pussy.” Each word of is enunciated by a sharp thrust of his hips and you practically wail out his name.

“Can’t.. Can’t take anymore Ken please.” Bleary, misty eyes look up at him, blinking past tears as your body jolts with the force of each thrust. His pace is picking up and he’s huffing out deep breaths, and you can tell by the way his abdomen tightens that he’s about to cum. His thrusts are getting sloppier, but you’re right on the edge with him, walls starting to clamp down again. “Ken I can’t!” “You can.” He places a soft kiss right under your jaw, dragging his lips up until they’re resting against yours. “I know you can. Give me one more baby.” You try to shake your head but your mouth falls open when a hand snakes between you two again and starts to make firm circles on your swollen puffy clit. “Ken.. please I…”

Your cheeks heat and your hiccup out an embarrassed sob. You’re not inexperienced by any means, but you’ve never had something that feels like this. That feels this overwhelming and good. You’ve never had someone who fills you this much, who hits every sensitive spot, whose cock is so big it sticks out from your tummy and pushes past your cervix with every sharp thrust. There’s a foreign feeling that’s settled in your stomach and it increases the more he plays with your clit and with every thrust that rams into the tight ring of muscle inside of you. Words tumble out before you can stop them and the minute they’re out, embarrassment and lust flood you in the same instant and it makes you dizzy. “Ken please.. Feel like I’m gonna go to the bathroom!” A rumbling groan is the only answer and his thumb speeds up its pace, his thrusts sloppy. “Fuckin’ squirt baby. Squirt on my fuckin’ cock. I know you can. Make a mess ‘f me.” Another sharp thrust and a pinch of your clit sends hurtling into oblivion as you do just that. Your last release comes squirting out of you, coating his hand, his thighs, the mattress, his abdomen. You feel it run down the swell of your ass as you cry, your nails clawing at his back as you call out his name, sobbing and cumming as he doesn’t relent, panting and groaning into your neck. Hot ropes of cum start to coat your insides, filling you to the brim as he moans. It’s unhinged and messy, his cock head pushing past your cervix to coat your insides, filling your womb almost overly full. Your name leaves his mouth in a rumbling shout before his teeth sink into your shoulder, biting down to muffle the moans that leave his throat.

His hips finally slow and he lays his forehead into the crook of your neck, his hands drifting down to your quivering thighs, massaging them as you both catch your breath. You let your palms lay flat on his broad back, running them up and down as little shuddering breaths leave you.

Finally moving to look down at you, he blinks the sweat out of his eyes, brushing the hair out of yours. Both of you are a mess, covered in sweat and slick, your entire body marked with his love bites and his back scratched from your nails.

Bliss and submission is written over your face and your eyes drift shut as his palm comes to cup your cheek. You’re so good for him, it makes his chest squeeze tight. He’s already softening inside of you, and surprisingly, you both still feel a little high, the combination of pleasure, euphoria and rapture making it that much more heightened.

Both of you hiss as he slides out of you, moving so he’s hovering over you and bringing you to relax your legs completely. There’s a few moments of silence, soaking in each other’s presence.The air between you two settles into something you’re not sure you’re ready to name and you turn your head to say something to him, but find him already staring at you. He pulls you onto his chest, uncaring of the sticky sweaty mess you’ve become. His hand drags up your spine slowly, gently, and he pushes your head down so it’s tucked onto his shoulder. Ken is gentle as he continues to rub up and down your spine, grounding you and bringing you back down to earth. Humming contently, you drift until a rumbling laugh rouses you, and you move your chin until it rests on the top of his chest and you’re looking into those dark alluring eyes. Your hand comes up to trace the dragon tattoo on the smooth skin on the side of his head, following the inky black swirls as he continues to dance his fingertips up and down your skin. “So… wanna smoke again?”

All works belong to @ kenuis do no repost anywhere else without permission.

#✧.*Isla. grimoires #✧.*grimoire. Tokyo revengers #draken x reader #ken ryuguji #ken ryuuguji smut #draken smut #ken ryuuguji x reader smut #tr #tokyo revengers #ken ryuuguji x you #draken x you #✧.* tw: weed #banner by benkeibear

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holylulusworld · 3 months

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Big grumpy bear – Valentine’s Day snippet

Summary: He’s grumpy. You are sweet. A match made in heaven.

Pairing: Alpha!Walter Marshall x OmegaReader

Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, grumpy alpha, tooth-rooting fluff, pregnant reader, overprotective alpha

Big grumpy bear masterlist

Big grumpy bear - Christmas snippet

“Watch where you are going,” Walter growls at a man almost bumping into your shopping cart. He glares at the man, ready to rip him apart. “You almost bumped into my—” He gasps as you are nowhere to be found. Only the shopping cart remains in its place.

“What do you want from me?” The other alpha barks. He’s wincing at his reaction, suddenly realizing he’s going to have a face-off with a tall and bulgy man like Walter.

“Walter? Alpha,” you round the shelf, two more pillows and a new blanket in your arms.

“Y/N,” your alpha immediately turns around to take the pillows and blanket out of your arms. “Where have you been? We want to have a look at the blankets together.”

“I wanted to grab them so we can leave and go back home,” you pucker your lips and place your hand on his firm chest, feeling your alpha up. “I’m a little tired and want to cuddle with my alpha.”

He hums as you rub his chest to calm him. “You got bigger again.” Walter’s eyes drop to your middle and your belly. “How are my baby boy and baby girl today?”

“They are excited because their daddy has a few days off and will spend them with us,” you smile at your alpha. “And we are hungry.”

“Good thing I have something planned for today,” he wraps his strong arm around your shoulders. “Let me get you home and feed my hungry fiancé and our babies.”

“I want to help you, Walter,” you pout and whine. “I feel good. The doctor said everything was fine with the babies. I can help you with the dishes, or maybe make a salad. I want to gift something to you too.”

Walter cocks a brow. “Please sit here and relax. It’s Valentine’s Day and you already gave me the greatest gift,” he cups your face with both hands and pecks your lips. “You agreed to marry me and have my babies.”

“I love having your babies,” you smile against his lips. “I dreamed of becoming your mate and wife. It’s the greatest gift to me to have you in my life.”

“Give me ten minutes to finish dinner. We can eat together, and I’ll rub your back or belly. I got a gift for you too.” You grin as Walter makes his way toward the kitchen.

He turned out to be an attentive and caring alpha. Walter is not only a protector but a sweet man too. The alpha is strong and determined, but soft at the same time. “I’ll be waiting for you then.”

You look around the living room, smiling to yourself. Walter lit candles and put rose petals on the table. “Do you like the scented candle?” He calls from the kitchen. “The girl at the store said it’s good for a pregnant woman. The scent helps you relax.”

This time, you giggle. “It’s a pleasant scent.”

“Good, that’s good,” he walks back inside the room, carrying two plates. “I hope you like it. I tried to make your favorite dish. Chicken parmesan.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you,” you coo. “I can’t believe you cooked for me.” You sniffle and whimper. The hormones are getting you good today. “It smells delicious, Walter.”

“No crying, Y/N,” he places the plates on the table and immediately presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “I hope it tastes good too.”

“I’m sure it will,” you watch Walter sit next to you. He nervously looks at his plate. Your alpha loves your food, but today he wanted to do something special for you. “Relax.”

You sink your fork into the food, humming as you lift it to your mouth. “And?” He watches you take the first bite. “How is it?”

“Perfect!” You lie. It lacks salt, and the chicken is overcooked, but Walter did his best and tried to make this Valentine’s Day special. “It tastes great.”

Walter can’t take his eyes off you. He scoots closer to place his hand on your belly. “I’m so glad you decided to take care of your grumpy alpha. If not, I’d never be so happy.”

You sigh and lean your head against Walter’s shoulder. “I had to make sure you are always well fed. How could I not take care of my favorite grumpy alpha?”

Tags in reblog.

#walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #alpha!walter marshall x omega!reader #a/b/o #fluff #walter marshall x you #female reader #pregnant reader

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callisto-corner · 23 days

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Cooking at 3am | Geto Suguru

Pairing: Geto Suguru x gn reader

You remember those words from Virginia Woolf: 'One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.' She had a point, didn't she? Food, it's like the engine oil for your body. Without it, you're just grinding gears. And right now? Well, let's just say you're feeling the effects. Since two in the morning, it's been a battle on all fronts. Physically, emotionally, mentally—you're feeling the strain, the emptiness gnawing away at you .

A solitary tear escapes, trailing down your cheek as you clutch your rumbling stomach, wondering why Geto hasn't stirred yet. Seriously, does he sleep through earthquakes? you roll over to the small table, the moon's feeble light filtering through the curtains, barely illuminating your quest for sustenance. It's a scene straight out of a tragic romance novel, only instead of longing gazes, there's just you and your grumbling belly, desperately searching for snacks in the dark and there was none. A tragic ending in truth but one you refused to accept.

You unplugged your phone and it blinked. The clock struck 2:30 and it was time to deploy. Guided by the soft illumination of the moonlight seeping through the curtains, you navigated towards the door with deliberate steps, each footfall measured and precise. You spared a brief glance at Geto, cocooned in the warmth of the duvet, his peaceful slumber undisturbed by the nocturnal activities unfolding around him.

With practiced precision, you reached for the doorknob, turning it slowly to minimize any noise. The hinges yielded with a soft murmur, barely audible in the stillness of the night. Casting one final glance at Geto's peaceful slumber, you slipped out into the hallway, leaving behind the cold of the room for the cool embrace of the night.

The darkness enveloped you as you ventured into the living room, the moonlight filtering through the windows providing little assistance. With a quick flick, you activated the flashlight on your phone's camera, its beam cutting through the shadows and revealing the path ahead.

Navigating through the familiar terrain, you made your way towards the kitchen, each step cautious and deliberate. After a few moments of searching, your efforts were rewarded as you located the switch for the kitchen's light. With a click, the room was bathed in illumination, casting a warm glow over the countertops and cabinets.

Relieved to have finally made it to the kitchen, you wasted no time in getting to work. With your stomach rumbling impatiently, you eagerly scoured the pantry and refrigerator, hoping for a quick fix to satisfy your midnight cravings. But as you peered inside, your heart sank.

As you scoured the pantry and refrigerator, your hopes dwindled with each empty shelf. No chips to crunch on, no crackers to nibble. Not even a solitary cookie to salvage the situation. Instead, all you found were ingredients that required cooking—nothing suitable for instant gratification. Not a juice box or an apple in sight.

And then, like a slap in the face, it hit you: today was grocery day. The realization hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of your oversight. With a sigh of resignation, you accepted your fate and prepared to face the challenge of cooking up a meal from scratch, determined to make the best of the situation despite the inconvenience.

With a sense of determination, you propped your phone up against the knife holder, relying on the video's guidance to cobble together a meal. But frustration mounted as you realized that key ingredients were missing, throwing a wrench into your culinary plans. With a heavy sigh, you cracked your brain, considering alternative options to salvage the situation.

As if on cue, Geto's voice pierced the silence of the dark hallway, catching you off guard. "What do you think you are doing?"

You couldn't help but let out an involuntary gasp, your hand flying to cover your mouth in a feeble attempt to hold back your outburst. The sound of your own heartbeat thundered in your ears, drowning out any hope of a coherent response as you watched Geto's calm face from across the kitchen.

And then, with a pointed gesture, he directed your attention to the sign above the stove—a sign you had failed to notice until now. The bold letters spelled out your ban from the kitchen, accompanied by a flurry of exclamation marks that left no room for ambiguity.

"Really?" you exclaimed, a mix of disbelief and amusement coloring your tone as you turned back to face him. His upper body rested casually on the island's marble surface, his expression calm yet resolute. With a slight shrug of his shoulders, he met your amazed gaze. "I still want a house to live in," he stated matter-of-factly, reaffirming the rules he had set in place.

"Come on Sugu" you placed the pot on the stove. "It was an honest accident"

"And I honestly," he began, his voice gentle as he met your gaze, "would still like to live in this house and not its ashes." your small smile dropped as you watched him. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

“Can you teach me then?” you threw your hand in the air.

He gestured a hum to your request, as he washed the vegetables. “You’d like to learn?” he turned to you

You have never cooked anything out of a small childhood mac and cheese. It was simple and it was tasty. Only required boiling water and after simply separating the liquid from the macaroni then you added cheese.

Your admission hung in the air, a stark contrast to the warmth of the kitchen. It was a confession that spoke volumes, revealing a vulnerability you rarely showed. Geto's expression softened, his eyes reflecting understanding and empathy.

"Never cooked anything beyond a childhood mac and cheese?" he echoed, his voice gentle yet tinged with curiosity.

You nodded, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks. It was a humbling admission, but one you knew you needed to make if you were ever going to learn.

Without missing a beat, Geto turned off the water and dried his hands, his movements deliberate yet comforting. "Well, then," he said, a spark of determination lighting up his eyes. "It's time we change that."

"I'll leave the vegetables duty to you," he added, gesturing towards the colander of vegetables that he had placed in a bowl to catch the dripping water.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Geto set to work, his focus unwavering as he began to prepare the shrimp with practiced ease.

Throughout the cooking process, Geto patiently taught you how to julienne carrots and peel various ground provisions efficiently. His guidance was clear and encouraging, and you absorbed his instructions eagerly, eager to learn and improve your cooking skills.

As you watched Geto work his magic in the kitchen, a surge of excitement and anticipation bubbled up inside you. This wasn't just about cooking; it felt like the beginning of a whole new culinary adventure, and you couldn't wait to dive in.

Standing shoulder to shoulder with Geto, you are soaked in the sights and sounds of the kitchen—the sizzle of the shrimp hitting the pan, the aroma of spices mingling in the air. His movements were confident and sure, a testament to his expertise in the kitchen.

As Geto poured the shrimp into the pan, the sizzle of the seafood hitting the hot surface filled the air with an enticing aroma. With a deft hand, he sprinkled the perfect blend of seasoning over the shrimp, each movement deliberate and precise. You couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as you watched him work, eager to play your part in this culinary symphony.

Instinctively, you reached for the dishes, your fingers dancing across the smooth surface as you prepared to assist in any way you could. As Geto stirred the sauce, you moved seamlessly beside him, your actions perfectly synchronized as if you'd been cooking together for years. It was a fluid collaboration, each of you anticipating the other's movements with a natural ease.

And then, as the aroma of the simmering sauce filled the kitchen, it was time to taste. Geto reached for a fork and a small plate, his movements deliberate as he carefully selected a plump shrimp from the pan. With a gentle touch, he dipped the fork into the sauce, ensuring that each bite would be infused with flavor.

You'd like to believe that no other man could have held a candle to a man like Geto. He, a man whose essence radiated warmth like a cozy hearth on a winter's night. His patience wasn't just a virtue; it was a cloak he wore with effortless grace, never once allowing the chaos of the world to ruffle its serene folds. And his kindness? It flowed from him like a gentle stream, soothing the weary souls he encountered along life's winding path. Geto was the embodiment of tranquility, a steady anchor in a sea of uncertainty, his presence a balm to those fortunate enough to know him.

As he held out the fork to you, offering you the first taste, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest. Taking the morsel of shrimp into your mouth, you closed your eyes, savoring the explosion of flavors that danced across your tongue. You hummed as the food melted in your mouth, the spiciness and sweetness of the sauce mixed the spiciness erupting a tiny cough from you. .

“Is it any good?” he asked

You couldn't help but chuckle at his question, even after countless meals he'd prepared for you, his humility never faltered. “Now you're just fishing for compliments,” you teased, giving him a gentle poke in the chest.

“But if you must know, I think you know the fastest way to my heart”

His smile widened, a mixture of pride and satisfaction evident in his expression.

“Then I'll just have to keep cooking for you, won't I?”

#jujutsu kaisen #geto x reader #geto suguru headcanons #geto #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto suguru fluff #jujutsu geto

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gallusrostromegalus · 6 months

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Your Ulquiorra plans are very intriguing, he may be one of my faves from the og- How does he survive exactly and how does he end up in the court guard?

Do they let him roam and leave him be like the crow problem or do they eventually have dedicated arrancar babysitters? What is Ulqui the most curious about, is there certain squads he hangs around in more than others? Does his social awareness get better or does he try obliterating some poor sod because they stood in the middle of the hallway for too long? Does he manage to make some friends?

He do be a blorbo fr

Asking for a friend obvs and not for a Squad 9 ficlet at all *clears throat*

...so he actually ends up in the Royal Realm, not the court guard.

Specifically, when everyone else finally manages to subdue Aizen, Gin yoinks him off to the Royal Realm to be fed to the Life Machine, Ulquiorra zips through the portal after them, because he's determined to finish actually kicking Aizen's ass.

Instead, Ulquiorra ends up inside the Actual Soul King Palace, with exactly no supervision.

Being as the total population of the royal realm is 5 super-captains, a couple dozen assistants of dubious autonomy, and Gin, it's not hard for Ulquiorra to go do whatever the hell he wants undetected for several weeks, and when people do start noticing that things are amiss-

Kirinji is having a deeply paranoid reaction to the sudden appearance of masses of black hair in the drains of some of his hot springs.

At first he thinks he’s going bald, but then he begins to suspect the other guards… and then that this is, somehow, a message from Tama. The Kodoku is almost done, isn’t it?

Not wanting anyone to learn his secret, he tells no-one.

Hikifune notices that some of her food is missing- high protein, fat and iron stuff like pork belly and calf liver, but also candies and fruits.

At first she thinks there’s rats again, but then realizes- This is what someone used to starving takes. She prepares a more nutritionally balanced care package for him, along with a note that he’s welcome at her table any time.

...Hikifune didn’t kill the Mod Konpaku- she smuggled as many as possible into the royal realm with her as sous-chefs, but she couldn’t get all of them, and some still shuffle in, drawn to their mother. She hopes her lost children will all come home soon.

Not wanting to jeapordize the safety of her children, she tells no-one.

-Senjumaru is initially *pissed* that SOMEONE not only stole a pair of denim short pants from her latest collection, they used her good fabric shears to CUT HAIR, but then she gets a better look at the black fur and WOW this is terrific long fringe stuff what is it it’s too soft to be horsehair, too long to be rabbit and there’s LOTS of it???

Well.

She supposes they can have a pair of Jorts in exchange. She leaves him a note to make an appointment next time, she’ll make him something that fits instead of whatever is on the rack.

Not wanting to lose her position or the possibility of a new friend, she tells no-one.

Ichibe gets up in the middle of the night because he’s feeling restless- something is nagging him, trivial but irritating, like a pea irritates a princess, and goes into his studio to practice strokes and katas to soothe himself.

But in the middle of the studio, standing over the good paper, is some sort of DEMON with glowing green eyes and horns and terrible bat wings and… jorts? He’s so startled he doesn’t immediately strike the wretched thing down OR read it’s name and it scrambles away, the tail knocking over everything in the middle shelf of his inkstand and splattering it *everywhere* before it jumps out the window and flies away.

Ichibe curses and gnashes his teeth- everything is MESS, and FURTHERMORE, The Damn Thing has used up his good hot press paper and written the most AWFUL poetry… in unfortunately extremely good calligraphy.

Deeply embarrassed, he tells no-one.

...They're all WAAAAAY too paranoid and secretive to actually *tell* any of their colleagues that something weird is going on.

Except Oetsu, who assumes Ulquiorra is a Zanpaktou spirit that's crawled out out the pit from which all spirits he builds swords for emerge, and that absolutely nothing unusual is going on at all!

Sure, Batboy is a little bit weird and talks like a Bryonic protagonist, but it's nice to have somebody to actually *talk* to for once.

Oetsu has never actually *been* to spirit world for any extended period of time, and is maybe a little iffy on some of the specifics of some of the latest happenings of the last 2,000ish years.

Like that Arrancar exist.

Sure, Batboy's got a weird hole in his chest, but Oetsu does not immediately associate weird negative space in a dude's torso with him being a hollow. He deals with MUCH weirder-looking spirts all the time!

Eventually, Gin realizes Ulqiorra followed him into The Royal Realm, but he doesn’t seem particularly bent on Destruction.

If anything, he seems to have gotten a good bath, filled out a little bit, gotten a sword, some MUCH better-looking trousers and some mysterious ink stains and overall calmed down and looks better.

...Good for him!

But Gin’s got a lot of work to do, so Ulquiorra is now his intern! Ulquiorra: What’s an Intern? Gin Uh. An intern is a guy who lives in the office closet who brings you snacks! Ulquiorra: …That doesn’t sound right, but I don’t know enough about internships to dispute it. Gin: Whatever, just bring me a rat or something. Ulquiorra: …How about some ham? Gin: That’d be great actually. Ulquiorra: Get hammed, idiot. *throws ham at Gin but he catches it in his mouth like a dog catching a frisbee* Ulqiorra, after a few minutes of watching Aizen get taffy’d: So what’s all this… for? Gin: *Explains The Life machine, and it’s subsequent befuckening* Ulquiorra: We should ask Orihime to do this. She’s the smartest person I know. Gin: You know like four people, and the other three are the SOB in the taffy puller, a cat, and me. That ain’t a high bar. Gin: …she is still smarter than both of us though. Hm.

Ulquiorra spends a few months like this- wandering around exploring, visiting and gradually getting better at deciding to do things on his own initiative, and to just... enjoy existing.

Meanwhile, Orihime has been working on working out the math behind how Kido Spells are composed, and cracked into the language of Soul King and The Life machine. She’s worked out that there’s something squiffy about some of the spells- two kinds of logic, like there are two authors. (One is the Life machine’s original programming, the other is Soul King’s edits to Reality to improve the wheel). The second logic makes more sense for how reality actually operates, but isn’t as complete. -She’s puzzling over this discrepancy when Shiro wanders over and makes a bad “Maybe he’s Dead?” joke Orihime: ...that would explain a lot actually. See this line right here? It’s like. Half of a new spell. And also the most recent change I could find. It’s like whoever was writing this got interrupted halfway through and just. Never came back to it. Shiro: Oh. Shiro: …Can you finish it? Orihime: ...I think I can, actually, but. Well, I can’t figure out how he was making the edits stick? Like? Where was he inputting this that the spell actually changes reality? Ichigo: Aizen was trying to go to the Royal Realm where the Soul King lives, right? Maybe the terminal to edit the mainframe is up there? Orihime: ... Orihime: Oh my god. I think you’re right. Orihime: Well, the universe didn’t implode so I'm pretty sure Aizen isn’t editing there, but… Orihime: *Takes out Matsumoto’s old spirit phone which she stole along with Hitsugaya's when she got kidnapped to Las Noches, frowns at it for a while, then dials a number on it* Ichigo, shiro: ?? Orihime: *Holds up a finger to indicate she’s on an important call and they need to be quiet. Someone answers Orihime: Ulquiorra? Ulquiorra: Bwah? Ichigo and Shiro: BWAH?? Orihime: We have a lot to talk about, but I need you to answer a few questions for me, please? Ulquiorra: ok??? Orihime: Where are you, right now? -- Ulquiorra is in Hikifune’s kitchen, snitching food again. Ulquiorra: …A Kitchen. Orihime: in broader terms. Living world? Hueco mundo? Soul Society? Ulquiorra: uhhhhh… none of the above? Orihime: is it an additional plane of reality? Ulquiorra: yeah? Orihime: Is there a large palace or something like that in it? Ulquiorra, worried: Yeah?? Orihime: is there, anywhere in that plane, but probably in the palace, a place with a lot of math text in it, like I was writing on the walls of Las Noches? Ulquiorra, alarmed: Yeah??? Orihime: Oh, good! Ulquiorra: It is? Orihime: Well, yes, but listen- Listen, okay? UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES SHOULD YOU, OR ANYONE ELSE, TOUCH **ANY** PART OF THAT WRITING. Ulquiorra: Why? Orihime: the universe might end. Ulquiorra: …I’m gonna go lock that room real fast. Orihime: Thank you. Call me back when you can and we’ll talk, okay? Ulquiorra: Yes Ma’am! *Hangs up* -- Ichigo: WHAT Shiro: YEAH, WHAT Orihime: Good news! Nothing broke yet! Both: Yet? Orihime: I uh. I’m pretty sure. That nothing broke. And that Ulquiorra is kind of technically guarding the place where God edits the computer code that makes up reality. Both: … Shiro, despairing: THAT FUCKING MORON?? Ichigo: yeah, that’s not “Good” news. Orihime: It’s fine! Just so long as nobody breaks in there, it’ll be fine!

Anyway, I hope that helps, and it's GRIMMJOW that ends up drafted into the Court Guards :)

#ulquiorra cifer #AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #bleach fanfic

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