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#i went to a paint n sip
babyyougotlyrics · 1 year
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Heyyy❤️
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soullessdianthus · 9 months
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𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 | 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐱 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠)
Summary: During the mission somewhere in Austria, König takes an interest in TF 141 medic. Little did he know, she's Lieutenants Riley's girlfriend.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐
A/N: Possessive/Protective boyfriend Ghost? Yes, double and give to the next person. Also inserted Hank/Connor "lieutenant" reference, I just find it funny. Y/C ━ Your Codename (have fun, pick something babes) Poorly translated German ━ correct me if needed!
Warnings: nothing, reader is eastern european coded (we deserve more recognition as reader inserts ꃋᴖꃋ )
Word count: 1.8k
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The tree line of the thick forest melted into the base of the rocky mountains. Your gaze traveled across its pointy shapes and up higher - there hadn’t been a single cloud on the sky that day, causing a slight heatwave.
You let your body slightly wag as the car passed over surface bumps on the earthen road. The dry lump grew in your throat as the dust hovered all over the convoy and all you could think of was a sip of cold, mineral water. 
Soon, you reached the small town in Austria, secluded from the ring roads. The cars were parked near the surrounding forest at the entrance of the village. Lieutenant Riley's sight crossed with yours as he helped you get out of the truck. 
He could be such a gentleman sometimes. 
A handful of soldiers gathered near the vehicles - some of them wearing a KorTac patch on their shoulders, the other ones (from your unit) a Task Force 141 badge. But besides those sigils, none of them were wearing full battle gear. 
There was no active fighting against the enemy at the moment. It was just a careful chase after the terrorists - following their footsteps, interviewing associates, gathering proof. Because at the end of the day, the military (or army related organization) cannot shed blood over a defamation.
But KorTac and TF 141? Quite an unusual partnership between the two groups, right?
━ Ghost, Y/C you’re goin’ with me ━ Captain Price announced, adjusting his hat as he closed the car’s doors behind him. ━ Gaz, you’ll stay here, is that clear? 
Captain heard a firm ‘yes, sir’ from your teammate Kyle who was to stay at the parking spot. Meanwhile the KorTac colonel gave an order to his soldiers in German. “Such a tough language” you thought to yourself. Only two of his people went along the wood road with the rest of you.
The Colonel. 
Exceptionally tall, Austrian man who served many years for his country. The one you found yourself in on the latest mission. 
Each time you wanted to look at him while Colonel König was speaking, you had to chin up. And even though, a black hood with a red paint on it covered his whole face besides his cold, blue eyes. He was lowkey intimidating with his massive size, but just like your captain, the Austrian’s rough looks didn’t reflect his character. At least to you and your comrades he was quite nice. 
Unfortunately, you couldn’t say the same about his teammates. 
You didn’t have to walk for long as the isolated, one floor house emerged behind a hill. By the quick peek at that building and the noises coming from the inside you knew, it felt like a warm home. 
As you approached the building, you heard a child’s cry. 
Price knocked at the front door and soon after a man with dark bags under his eyes opened them slightly. He was peeking through the crack.
━ Jakob Hausner? ━ The Captain asked with a playful smile under his mustache, his thumbs interlocked with the gear straps over his chest. 
━ Ja, wie kann ich helfen? [ger.: Yes, how can I help?]
━ Can you ask him if he speaks english? ━ John looked over his shoulder towards König, asking for a favor. 
━ Yes, I speak english ━ master of the house answered with a thick accent, before colonel could translate. ━ What do you want? 
He wasn’t trusting at all, well, how could he? You were all strangers at his doorsteps, two of your partners wearing scary looking masks. But it all had a purpose - they were supposed to look… intimidating, yes? 
A loud wailing made their ears hurt, it was that damn baby again. Jakob sighed loudly, his shoulder collapsing as he opened the doors a little bit more.
━ We just want to talk about the company you were working for. ━ Price continued talking. 
━ About them again? ━ Mr. Hausner frowned his eyebrows and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Poor man was exhausted apparently. ━ Okay, okay, ja, come in. 
The man let you all inside, however König told his soldiers to have a look outside the plot - to make sure it’s safe here and you’re not being watched. Poor Jakob wasn’t even fully aware (because of his state) that he let in a group of military people inside of his home.
As soon as you crossed the hallway into the dining room with a big, wooden table, you noticed a struggling toddler in a children’s chair. The girl was crying, her face red from the tantrum. 
━ I’m sorry, it’s just my daughter, she… she doesn’t want to eat her–. Lina, bitte. [ger.: Lina, please.]
Being a parent. Must be tough, huh?
Not when you were forced to babysit your siblings or cousins since you were a teenager. 
━ She’s not hungry. ━ You noticed the way the little girl pushed her plate away and how she tried to climb out of the seat. Christ, that man really had to be exhausted. ━ Can I?
You took a few slow and calm steps towards the sitting child - a warm smile painted over your face. Even your boyfriend Ghost was slightly… surprised? Seeing you drop the apathetic shell, then becoming more warm and gentle towards the little girl.
━ She’s our medic ━ your Captain explained to the worried father ━ let her take the kid and we’ll have a talk. In peace. 
Mr. Hausner let you take care of his unsettled daughter, so they could have a conversation about his former employers. You took the girl out of her chair and placed her over your left hip, pushing it outward. 
━ Come, Lina ━ you addressed the girl by her name, even though she probably couldn’t understand what you were saying ━ let’s leave the stinky men alone, ja?
You left the dining room and entered the seemingly endless garden behind the house. Since you took that girl in your hands she already began to calm down, perhaps a woman's touch was all she needed? 
“Where was your mother? Was she at work working a long shift? Did something happen to her? Did the bad men–” your thoughts seemed to take a rather pessimistic route, so you had to quickly change it. 
You didn’t know much German. Well, you didn’t know any at all. 
Fuck.
But at that moment you were thanking the heavens that your father watched movies about Hans Kloss or war on a regular basis. You were happy that your father was taught some phrases and somewhere in your subconsciousness he passed them to you.
You sat on the wooden bench somewhere in the garden not far from the building. Then, you placed the child on your lap and began talking to her - mostly in your mother tongue. Then you added some words in German that you knew, like: 
━ Schau, schmetterling! [ger.: Look, a butterfly!] 
Soon you grew more comfortable around the girl named Lina, even though there was a language barrier. Without your knowledge, your legs began to bounce her, pretending she was riding a horse. 
If anyone would point that out later, you would certainly deny it. You, getting soft for a child? No, no, no. 
You were so occupied with entertaining her that you didn’t even notice a looming, black figure in the corner of your eye. Watching the scene from somewhere nearby.
König was standing just next to the doors, leaving against the white plaster on the outside walls. He listened to your attempts to speak German, finding it… adorable? 
Never did he meet a woman in his profession so empathetic and gentle. Especially the one who managed to catch his attention. Let’s be honest, most of them were cold blood murderers and he was a colonel - he couldn’t let himself have such a luxury of having a family. 
Until now.
His imagination began to play a nasty and stupid trick on him - just because he saw you speaking German with a kid. What if it was you to take care of his children? Were your hands usually this delicate? Would you care for him as much?
The tall soldier was intrigued by you and his dreamy stare exposed him for it.
━ Don’t even think about it. ━ Ghost voice snapped him back to the reality. The British soldier emerged from the building the same way the colonel did after the conversation came to an end with Mr. Hausner.
Simon Riley wasn’t a fool. He noticed all the little peaks at his girlfriend other soldiers usually would take, she was in fact a pretty thing. So it didn’t take much to notice that the tall guy from KorTac took a liking of you. Too much liking in Ghost’s opinion. 
━ Verzeihung [ger.: Excuse me] ━ König apologized, flustered slightly by obviousness of the situation. He instantly understood the reference. ━ didn’t know she was… taken. 
━ Yeah ━ British lieutenant scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. His dark irises didn’t even dare to stare at him. His eyes were on you ━ she’s very much taken. 
There was a dead silence between the two of them - for a short moment, before Ghost gave you a heads up. 
━ Y/C, we’re moving. 
The rough and firm tone of Ghost’s voice made you snap back into reality. You were in the middle of something, right? Yet, you almost jumped on that little bench painted in floral patterns. 
━ Coming, lieutenant. ━ You declared quickly, before putting the little girl over your hip again and heading inside of her home. 
Ghost was a few steps ahead and so you had to pass the massive figure of König to go inside again. You pressed the child’s head into your cleavage as she was a little scared of colonel’s hood. 
Well, you would be too, if you saw his cold stare in the middle of the night from under that veil, right?
━ Don’t worry, he just looks scary. He won’t bite. Isn’t that right, sir? ━ You sent him a polite smile as you tried to comfort the petrified girl. Your hand caressing her golden locks.
But he was speechless at the moment. He couldn’t form a simple sentence. A fucking grown ass man. “So fucking pathetic”, he thought to himself. Your lips twisting into a wide smile for him. It wouldn’t be easy for him to erase that sight from his memory. König would have trouble falling asleep that night, thinking of you.
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A/N: ♪ Two big guys and they grab on my thighs ♪
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cry baby
bucky barnes x fem reader
words: 7.3k
warnings: **18+ ONLY** smüt, ed*ging, overstimulation, crying during s*ex, mentions of flushed cheeks, friends to lovers, misunderstandings, lapslock.
a/n: this is arguably one of my absolute fave fics i've ever written. she is near and dear to my heart :') i've provided the link for ao3 if you prefer to read it there! it's originally posted in two parts but i've combined them here. any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡
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“the boys are running late,” natasha informs you when you make your way to the table she’s conquered in the busy cafe. “sam texted a couple minutes ago and said he and bucky got stuck in traffic.”
it’s the second tuesday of the month, which means it’s brunch day. it’s a running tradition that’s stood for the four of you since your college days. the time and place has changed over the years, but everyone does their absolute best to attend every time. these tuesdays are your favorite, naturally.
you plop into an empty chair across from her with a heavy sigh. “good, that means i have time to bitch about how fucking horny i am before they get here.”
she snorts, taking a delicate sip of her latte. “what’s new?” she wonders sarcastically.
“you don’t understand,” you begin, leaning into the table, gripping the edge tightly. “it’s been months, and not like, a few, i mean it’s coming up on a year.”
natasha’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “a year? what about that guy you went on a few dates with a while back? didn’t anything happen with him?”
“no,” you grumble, sitting back in your chair and crossing your arms. you huff. “and even if something had happened, i doubt it would have been satisfying. i can probably count on one hand the amount of times sex has been even kinda pleasurable for me.”
“sounds like you’re picking shitty partners.”
you scowl. “i know that, but it’s not my fault. all these stupid men keep promising they’re gonna fuck me ten ways to sunday and not a single one of them can even get me to wednesday.”
natasha laughs. “you poor thing.”
“you’re really not helping me here,” you whine with a pitiful pout on your lips. “you are getting routine dickings, you have sam! i am not so lucky here.” you notice her attention flicks to somewhere behind you, but you’re not finished with your rant. “nat, i’m serious. all of my sex encounters are the equivalent of asking someone to scratch my back and then they scratch literally anywhere but the spot that itches. i want to be fucked so good that i cry, just—completely reduced to tears. is that too much to ask?”
nat is hiding her smile behind her hand, amusement painted across her sharp features. someone clears their throat behind you and you pinch the bridge of your nose. sam and bucky occupy the empty seats, sam next to natasha and bucky next to you. they’re both sporting wide grins, looking far too pleased about stumbling into this conversation.
sam opens his mouth, no doubt to make a smartass comment, but you cut him off before he can get a good inhale in.
“not a fucking word,” you grouse with a finger pointed in his direction.
he presses a hand to his chest, expression offended. “i would never make a joke about your truly tragic excuse of a sex life.”
bucky snickers quietly, but turns into a cough at your glare.
“i’ll murder you,” you promise.
“leave her alone, boys,” natasha says, rolling her eyes, though she’s visibly biting back her own laughter.
you huff, digging your wallet out of your purse. “i hate all of you,” you announce before getting up and going to stand in line to order.
bucky follows a moment later, coming to stand at your side and throwing an arm around your shoulders.
“that bad, huh?” he asks.
you don’t have to look at his face to know he’s probably smirking right now.
“fuck off,” you retort, not bothering to push his arm away since you know he’d only put it right back.
“aw, come on, don’t be like that,” he jests, “you know we just like to poke a little fun.”
you roll your eyes, throwing him an exasperated look. “yeah, but that was something only nat was supposed to hear. i hate talking about sex with you and sam because you two wouldn’t understand.”
“that’s not true,” bucky insists, which makes you roll your eyes again. “it’s not!”
“first of all, sam’s got natasha, so we both know they’re more than satisfied.” bucky tilts his head in acquiescence. “and you don’t have to worry about if you’re gonna have an orgasm when you hook up with somebody. men have it so easy.”
it’s probably not the best thing to talk about in line of a busy cafe (especially since you haven’t decided between a blueberry muffin or the ham and cheese croissant, and there’s only one person ahead of you now and you’d really rather not be discussing your lack of sex in front of an innocent barista) but it sort of feels good to get this off your chest, even if it’s to bucky.
“okay, definitely not true,” he replies with a frown. “i’m not always guaranteed an orgasm.”
you give him a skeptical glance. “i find that hard to believe.”
this time, it’s bucky who rolls his eyes. “whatever, whether or not i come when i have sex with someone isn’t what i was gonna talk about when i came over here.”
the person in front of you finishes their order and then you’re stepping up for your turn.
“hi, what can i get you today?” the young barista asks with a smile.
“a large mocha iced coffee with sweet cream and a blueberry muffin, please.” you pause, contemplating, then add, “and a ham and cheese croissant.”
if you can’t get fucked within an inch of your life then food will become your lover, you reason.
“just a black coffee for me, please,” bucky tells the girl, taking his wallet out of his back pocket and handing over his card to pay before you can stop him.
“i could’ve paid for mine,” you mumble.
“you also could just say thank you,” he replies with a short laugh as he ushers you to the side to wait for your order.
you pinch his hip, pouting. “thank you.”
“why does your gratitude come with violence?” he asks, rubbing the sore spot.
“you know how i am when people do nice things for me.”
“you should be used to it by now,” he points out.
“well, i’m not,” you huff. “anyway, what did you come over here to talk about then?”
bucky reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, uncharacteristically shy all the sudden. “uh, well. i dunno, i just thought… you know, since you’re not—i mean, not that you couldn’t be, just—you haven’t been, so maybe… fuck.”
“spit it out,” you say with a giggle, wondering what in the world’s got him so tongue-tied.
“why don’t you let me?” he blurts, averting his gaze immediately after.
you tilt your head in confusion. “let you what?”
he sighs heavily, working his jaw in frustration. “you know…” he begins, digging his thumbnail into a knick on the countertop in front of you. “let me fuck you until you cry.”
“what?”
just then, your order is called. bucky quickly grabs it and turns to make his way back to the table, but you grab his arm to stop him.
“i don’t think so, you come back here right now and explain yourself,” you demand.
his eyes lift heavenward. “it’s just an idea, okay?”
“bucky, you’re talking about crossing a huge line. you can’t just throw that out all willy nilly!”
“i know,” he replies earnestly. “and it’s not—“ he grimaces at the phrasing, “willy nilly. you’re one of my best friends. i wouldn’t jeopardize that for anything, and i wouldn’t offer this if i thought that it could. this is something that’s obviously affecting you negatively in your life and i’m willing to help. i trust you, and i’m pretty sure you trust me, yeah?”
“of course i trust you,” you say, frowning.
he shrugs. “so, then it’s just… a friend helping another friend.”
“you make it sound so simple,” you muse in wonder.
“think about it?” he implores.
you swallow roughly, biting the inside of your cheek. “fine. i’ll think about it.”
he nods and walks back over to the table where sam and natasha are waiting. you hesitate for only a split second before following.
needless to say, you’re distracted for the rest of brunch.
***
you: what even makes you think you could fuck me until i cry anyway?
it’s been nearly a week, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re actually considering taking bucky’s offer. it’s all you can think about since he brought it up. you can’t lie, you’ve always thought bucky was attractive, but ever since you were gently but firmly placed in the friend category back in university, you never allowed yourself to think of there ever being more between the two of you. he’s a wonderful friend to have and you’d have been an idiot to pass it up. bucky is kind and generous and just enough of an asshole to keep things interesting without it being a problem.
but this… this has left you reeling. why would he make such an offer after only ever keeping things strictly friendly and platonic in your relationship? and more importantly, where does he get the confidence to think he could follow through?
bucky: experience?
you make a face at your phone, furiously typing your reply.
you: ew. do you realize how douchey that sounds?
bucky: well, it’s not douchey if it’s true.
you: says you
bucky: and a few other people :)
bucky: you’d know it too if you’d let me fuck you
you exhale harshly through your nose, tapping your foot on the floor anxiously, carefully thinking of what you should say next.
you: it’s apparently a tall request, and thus far, nobody’s been able to deliver. you can understand my skepticism…
bucky: if i don’t leave you shivering and twitching with aftershocks of pleasure, in a mess of sweat and come, and tears stained on your cheeks, then i will have failed you.
your thighs squeeze together at the mental image that brings you. jesus christ, if he’s half as good at fucking as he is dirty talking then he just might do as he’s promising.
bucky: so? what do you say? wanna give it a try?
biting your lip, you give yourself a moment to weigh the pros and cons in your mind one last time.
it doesn’t take you very long to make your decision.
you: okay. we’ll try.
***
it’s a slightly overcast sunday when bucky comes over with the direct intention to fuck you. it should be weird, but strangely, all you feel is anticipation. maybe it’s because you know him so well and know that, no matter what, he’d take care of you.
(or, maybe it’s because those repressed college-aged feelings are doing their best to resurface, even though you steadfastly continue to ignore them.)
you’d taken a thorough shower earlier to ease the little bit of nerves you had when you’d woken up. cleaning up the small mess your apartment gathered over the last couple weeks helped, as well, and soon you found yourself standing in front of your lingerie drawer with your lips pursed.
you weren’t sure if you should even bother with it, but it felt you wouldn’t be putting in any effort into this encounter if you didn’t at least pick out nice underwear. so, with a pleased nod, you settle on some simple black lace panties and a matching bralette. not too much, but enough to satisfy yourself, and hopefully bucky. you pick out a simple sundress to put on over it, since you won’t be wearing much of anything once bucky gets here. that thought has you flushing, but you ignore it to put on some makeup, just to freshen up your face.
by the time he knocks on your door, you’ve already finished a glass of wine and are pouring yourself a second.
he smiles when open the door, a bit boyishly, greeting you with a quiet, “hi.”
“hi,” you return, just as soft. you open the door wider. “come in.”
he walks passed you, stopping to toe his shoes off and hang his jacket on one of the hooks.
“do you want a glass of wine?” you ask as you head to the kitchen to retrieve your own from the counter.
bucky follows, stopping in the entryway with his hands in his pockets. “no, thank you.”
you nod, taking a sip from your glass, trying to figure out what to say. the air feels a little awkward and you’re not sure how to fix it.
“nervous?” he wonders curiously.
you shake your head. “not really.”
he quirks a brow. “then what’s wrong?”
“i don’t know,” you murmur. “i guess i’m just worried we’re making a mistake.”
he hums. you take a larger sip of your wine.
with cautious steps, he comes closer to you. “what if i promise that things won’t be weird after?”
“you can’t really promise that, though.”
“sure i can,” he says, smiling. “it’s me and you. we’ve been friends for so long. plenty of people have sex and stay friends after.”
you’re not just ‘people’ to me, you think.
you sigh, frustrated with yourself. you can’t deny how badly you want this. it’s all you’ve been able to think about since that day in the cafe. but the thought of losing bucky is heartbreaking, and you don’t want your stupid horniness to be the reason that you ruin a friendship, even if he was the one to offer sex.
“why don’t we go make out on the couch for a little while first?” he suggests after a moment’s pause.
you snort, in spite of your thoughts. “like a couple of teenagers?”
his eyes crinkle on the sides when he grins. “yeah. we’ll just see how we feel about that, and if it leads to more, then…” he trails off, shrugging.
“that’s not a bad idea,” you concede.
“great! finish your wine.”
you laugh and do as you’re told, downing the little remaining wine in one go, sitting the glass down on the counter resolutely as you swallow.
“let’s do this,” you say, determined.
bucky huffs a laugh, grabbing your wrist and tugging you behind him as he makes his way to the couch. he settles slightly facing you as you tuck your legs under you beside him.
“do you wanna talk, or do you want to jump straight into it?”
“if we talk anymore i’m gonna change my mind. just kiss me already, bucky.”
“yes ma’am,” he sasses before doing exactly that.
he cups your cheek with one hand as the other is placed on your knee. he guides your face to his and kisses you chastely. you’re not sure where to put your hands at first, but you tell yourself to quit being a goober about it and place them on either side of his neck, your thumbs brushing under his jaw.
it’s an okay kiss, you have to admit, but it’s not really doing anything for you yet. he has soft lips, softer than you thought they’d be. you’re beginning to wonder if maybe this confirms you shouldn’t go any further when he tilts his head, and… hm.
he parts his lips, taking your bottom one between his, kissing it, then nipping it. you wouldn’t say the sound you make is a gasp, necessarily, but it’s close. his tongue lightly caresses the seam of your mouth and you don’t even think before you open up for him, letting his tongue sweep in, flicking against yours. you hum, scooting a tiny bit closer to him, chasing the feeling. his kisses turn insistent then, teeth biting at your bottom lip and tugging, soothing the ache with his tongue. he kisses you like a man quenching his thirst, like you’re the best goddamn thing he’s ever tasted, and it’s leaving you dizzy. you sway more into his space and he pulls away from your mouth.
“c’mere,” he whispers, gripping behind one of your knees to drag it over his hips so you’re straddling him. “much better.”
you don’t have a chance to process anything about the moment, his mouth back on yours in a blink. your fingers wind themselves into his hair, getting a good grip on it as you lick into his mouth. he lets out a soft noise at that and you try your damnedest to pry it out of him again, pressing your chest to his so there’s not even a sliver of space left between you.
his hands travel, down the sides of your torso to your thighs, back up to your hips where he holds on tight. it doesn’t take long after that before you find yourself grinding into him. you both moan at the same time, breaking the kiss to pant for breath.
you swallow roughly. “okay,” you murmur, “i think it’s safe to say this could work.”
bucky laughs quietly. “yeah? wanna move to your bed then?”
your squeeze your thighs around him, shifting minutely on his lap and feeling the beginnings of his erection beneath you. “yes,” you breathe.
quickly, you rise from your position and step back, allowing bucky to stand, then grab his hand and lead him to your bedroom. once you’re standing beside your bed, you turn to face him. he meets your halfway, pulling you into another, filthier kiss. you reach for his belt buckle, unfastening it and sliding it through the loops, tossing it to your floor. next are the button and zip of his jeans, shoved down his legs until he steps out of them and kicks them and his socks aside. he obediently lifts his arms when you slide your hands under his shirt and begin pushing it up, breaking the kiss to nearly yank it off, making bucky huff in amusement. once it’s tossed with the rest of his clothes, bucky grabs fistfuls of your dress and pulls you into him.
“my turn,” he says against your lips.
carefully, bucky helps you out of your dress, eyes raking over every bit of new skin shown to him. he bites his lip when he sees your lacy underthings.
“you got all dolled up for me?” he asks.
shifting under his stare, you nod. “wanted to look nice,” you admit.
he hums. “beautiful.”
he kisses you again, a little softer than before, but no less passionate. the urgency returns as he backs you up until your thighs hit the mattress. gently, he guides you onto your back, never breaking the kiss as he follows you down and settles over you.
you soon find yourself in need of air and pull away with a gasp. bucky is undeterred and instead presses his kisses down your jaw, to your neck where he decides to bite and suck until he’s left a mark you’ll have to reprimand him for later. he licks his way up to your ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth, drawing a whine out of you.
“bucky,” you whisper, hands gripping his sides as you squirm below him.
“hm?”
you close your eyes tightly when he makes his way back down to your collarbones.
“please,” you whimper.
“please what, sweetheart?” he asks, pushing himself up to look you in the eye.
“t-touch me,” you beg, cheeks flushing.
his lips quirk into a smile. “i am touching you.”
“bucky,” you whine.
“where do you want me to touch you, hm?” he wonders. one of his hands trails across your shoulder and down the center of your chest. “here? or… here?”
when his fingers glide, barely there, over your pebbled nipples, you push into the touch eagerly.
“or…” he continues, his feather light touch making a path down your stomach. your breath quickens in anticipation. “here?” he murmurs as his fingertips stop on your pantyline.
“yes, there, anywhere,” you agree hastily, “just —please. please, bucky, don’t tease me.”
he kisses you again, deep, full of promise. “you beg so prettily for me.”
he rearranges your positions until he’s between your spread thighs, sweeping his hands across the inside of them. he nods to your panties.
“may i?”
“yes, please,” you reply, lifting your hips to help him take them off.
he doesn’t give you a chance to close your legs in shyness, firmly grasping your knees in each of his hands and spreading them once again. the way he’s looking at you makes you feel unbelievably desirable, has excitement crawling up your spine.
“don’t forget,” you remind him, making his eyes flick up to yours in question, “you better make me cry.”
a slow, dangerous smile graces his lips. your stomach swoops eagerly.
~
a whine, high pitched and drawn out, escapes your lips. after you unwittingly challenged him, bucky took it upon himself to torture you—with sex. so far, he’s only used his fingers on you, in you, thrusting them steadily but never enough to bring you to climax. he’s taking his time and being a smug prick about it. you go to complain, again, hoping if you beg enough he’ll let you come, but before you can do more than open your mouth he’s quickening his pace.
“oh!” you gasp, clutching the sheets in your hands.
bucky slides his hand down your thigh, bringing his thumb inward to swipe around where his other fingers are buried inside you to gather your wetness and using it to rub circles on your clit. your back arches, head thrown back against your pillows as you feel your orgasm build. it’s not tears, but damn, it feels good enough.
just as you start to clench around his fingers, legs spasming, he stops.
your eyes open in a hurry, brows furrowing in confusion. “no, please, don’t stop,” you plead.
bucky smiles. “i gotta get the right build up.”
you groan in frustration. he laughs quietly and lets the inferno burning within you simmer down to embers, then starts inching his way down until he’s lying on his stomach, mouth poised above your pussy. the feel of his warm breath makes you shiver, and with no warning whatsoever, he leans in and sucks your clit into his mouth.
“fuckin’—oh my— bucky!”
you’re pretty sure you black out for the next several minutes, the only thing you’re aware of is the thudding of your heartbeat in your ears and the feel of bucky’s mouth on you. you’re lost in a mindless haze of pleasure, unable to think or feel anything else. you feel your orgasm cresting for the second time, and just as before, bucky pulls away before you can succumb to it.
“why,” you hiccup on a moan, wanting nothing more than to just come already, but he’s not letting you.
he shushes you, softly kisses your knee. sitting up to take his underwear off, bucky keeps his eyes on you, expression hungry.
“gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he promises. “just a bit more. you’re being so good for me, yeah?”
“please,” you whimper, feeling completely pathetic.
he makes quick work of putting a condom on and then settles between your thighs. you sigh in relief when he wastes no time and pushes in, being careful not to go too fast. once he’s fully inside you, he pauses, wanting to give you time to adjust, but you’re back to whining.
“bucky, please, please just—fuck me,” you beg, squirming beneath him.
he takes mercy on you, finally, and sets a hard pace. your hands fly up to push against the headboard, moaning and gasping from his harsh thrusts, loving the stretch of him inside you. his thumb is back on your clit and you cry out, clenching hard around him, but his thrusts don’t falter. all too soon, you can feel yourself getting close. you hear your own voice chanting please, please, please, mixed in with bucky’s grunts and the sound of him fucking you.
you whimper, eyes squeezed shut as your climax hits the point of no return, crashing over you in waves. you think you might scream, but it’s hard to pay attention to anything other than the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. part of you thinks this’ll be it, bucky will come now and then you’ll have had one of the best orgasms of your life and he’ll be on his merry way home. but no, that’s not what happens.
instead, bucky keeps thrusting relentlessly into you, dragging out your pleasure to the point of oversensitivity.
“s’too much,” you breathe, gasping for air.
bucky shakes his head, face contorted in concentration. “one more,” he tells you, voice gruff and deep.
unbelievably, you feel tears beginning to gather in the corners of your eyes. bucky’s still rubbing your clit, still keeping a steady rhythm of his hips, and fuck, he’s so beautiful. you watch him fucking you, wondering how the fuck you got to this moment, how you got lucky enough to bear witness to the sight of bucky fucking, let alone be the one he fucks. his body is ridiculous, looking like it’s carved from marble. you know how much strength it holds, as well, know that if he really wanted to, he could probably fuck you against a wall.
it’s with that thought, with the added bonus of the way bucky touches you, looks at you, like you’re something treasured and gorgeous, giving you such intense pleasure, that the tears threatening to spill over finally fall from your lashes.
bucky notices, because of course he does, and he thrusts into you just a little faster, a little harder, and your body seizes up and then you’re falling into another orgasm. it spreads through your veins, slow like honey, making sure this one settles deep into your bones. bucky groans as he, too, reaches climax, hips twitching into you in aftershocks until he stops moving altogether.
you both pant for breath, sweat gathered in every crevice on your bodies. you think you won’t be able to move for the rest of the weekend.
“need to pull out,” bucky says softly, breaking the moment.
you nod and he carefully pulls his hips back, grunting. you poorly suppress a whimper and close your legs, already hating the empty feeling.
“well,” he starts, plopping himself on his back next to you, “i think i deserve some kind of reward.”
when you turn to face him with an exasperated look, he’s got his arms crossed behind his head, a smug smile across his lips.
“how about i don’t kick you in the balls? how’s that for a reward?”
“i literally just did the impossible.”
“what, made me come twice? i can do that all on my own. you’re not special,” you retort with a huff.
he scoffs. “i fucked you so good you cried.”
“you can’t prove it,” you say to the ceiling.
“keep up this attitude and i won’t do it again,” he threatens, poking you in your side.
you wiggle away from the ticklish touch while trying to tamp down on the hope bubbling in your chest.
“oh, we’re doing this again, are we?” you say as casually as possible.
he rolls his eyes. “of course we are. now,” he sits up in your bed, stretching his arms as he stands and picks up his underwear, “i’m starving. wanna order takeout?”
well, you guess if you’d been worried about any kind of awkwardness before, you shouldn’t have. this is bucky, your best friend. he’d never let things change between you.
***
except, things kinda change between the two of you.
it’s not very noticeable at first, changes so subtle you miss them, until one day he showed up at your apartment and greeted you with a kiss. you stood frozen in your doorway as he rambled about how stressful his day had been as he kicked his shoes off. it was only when you heard him calling out from the kitchen that he was gonna eat your leftovers that you snapped out of it, yelling back that you’d kick his ass if he even touched your dumplings.
another day, he facetimes you and asks if you want to go to see that new movie you’ve been talking about.
“oh,” you’d said. “are nat and sam coming, too?”
he’d given you a funny look, replied, “no, i thought it would just be us two.”
“oh,” you said again. “okay.”
so you’d gone to the movies, let him buy you buttery popcorn and peanut m&m’s and a soda bigger than your head. he shared with you, despite your protests, and halfway through the film you felt his hand settle on your thigh. you blinked and stared at it for a beat, turning to him in question. he only smiled at you briefly before focusing back on the movie.
in between all of this, you continued calling him over for sex. honestly, how could you not? as much as you didn’t want to admit it to him, he was the best you’ve ever had. and if he’s so willing, why shouldn’t you take advantage while you can?
a week ago, though, you’d texted him and asked him to come over, replying to his question of what time and then started getting ready. you’d purchased a new piece of lingerie, a periwinkle babydoll nightie, that left very little to the imagination. it had a matching pair of panties and felt soft and luxurious on your skin. you’d taken extra time to do your hair and makeup, wanting to look like sex on legs, and you’re pretty sure you succeeded.
but when he got there and you answered the door in your sexy outfit, he didn’t see it right away. in one hand he held his phone, typing something on it, and in the other hand he held a grocery bag that you eyed curiously.
“i brought stuff to make spaghetti—“
when he did finally look up, his eyes widened and traveled the length of your body several times. you bit your lip, trying and failing to hold back your smile.
“how about we skip dinner?” you’d said, fisting his nice button-up shirt and dragging him inside your apartment. you grabbed the grocery bag from his hand and sat it on the floor, absently noting he was wearing his date jeans.
whoops, you’d thought, hope i didn’t pull him away from someone important.
you hadn’t let yourself dwell on it, standing up on your tippy toes and kissing him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. he’d returned the kiss, licking into your mouth, drawing your tongue out so he could suck on it and made you moan embarrassingly loud.
“wait,” he’d murmured, “we should eat first.”
“or, you could eat me,” you’d retorted with a giggle.
he groaned like it pained him to say no, gripped your hips hard and put a tiny bit of distance between you. the look in his eyes had made you want to find the nearest flat surface and bend over.
“why don’t you be a good girl for me, hm? let me cook dinner for us and after we eat i’ll fuck you however you want me to. okay, sweetheart?”
you whined, but ultimately agreed, knowing he’d make it worth it.
and then there’s tonight, where he came over unannounced, armed with groceries again and promising to cook you the best meal you’ve ever had. to say you were confused would be an understatement, but you also didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth.
it’s just… well, bucky’s not really acting like a friend with benefits. sure, you hung out alone with him all the time before, but he never once cooked you dinner, and he certainly never helped wash dishes after. you guess the hello kisses could be explained away as part of the new aspect of your relationship, but something about that didn’t sit quite right with you.
after a truly delicious dinner, you find yourself on the couch with bucky as he scrolls through netflix to find a movie to put on.
“what do you want to watch?” he asks.
“mm,” you mumble, shifting closer to start kissing his neck, “don’t care.”
as he narrows down his decision and finally picks one, you make your way up to his jaw, sucking a small mark into the skin there.
“baby,” he protests softly, “let’s just watch the movie, yeah?”
you pull back, confused. first at the pet name, then at his words. he’s never denied you before, which isn’t to say that he can’t, it’s just that he’s always seemed on board. and, you know, you thought that was kind of the whole point of this thing.
“okay,” you reply after a moment.
he gives you a smile and a sweet kiss, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side to cuddle. you can’t help but frown, feeling like you’re missing something, but not knowing what it could be.
it doesn’t take long for drowsiness to creep up on you. before he showed up, you had planned on probably ordering out for dinner and going to bed early since you’d had a pretty rough day. in fact, you remember texting bucky about it just that afternoon. your eyelids get heavier and heavier, finding it harder to keep them open as the seconds pass. your head droops and in the next blink, you’ve fallen asleep.
you’re not sure how much time has passed when bucky wakes you, but you groan, pouting and burrowing into his shoulder more.
he huffs a laugh. “c’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you to bed.”
“don’ wanna move,” you mumble tiredly.
“i’ll carry you,” he offers. “up you go, baby.”
you half heartedly argue about being jostled, but let him carry you to your bed where he carefully places you, helping you out of your sweatpants and pulling your blankets up around you. you sigh in content, feeling yourself already drifting back into sleep. you hear bucky shuffling, but think nothing of it until the bed dips beside you, then feel his warm body slide in underneath the covers and press in close.
“goodnight, darlin’,” he murmurs.
you’d ask him what in the word he’s doing, but sleep is just far too enticing to ignore. you fall into slumber with bucky’s warmth along your back, his arm draped over you.
the next morning, you wake to the feeling of his fingers playing with the tiny bow on the front of your panties and his lips placing gentle kisses on your shoulder. you hum, eyes still closed, in the back of your mind thinking this is a nice way to wake up. at the sound of you, his touches get firmer, more insistent.
“good morning,” he rasps, breath tickling your ear.
you don’t really get a chance to reply. he dips his fingers into your panties, making you inhale sharply, moaning as you buck into his hand. he fingers you for a while, kissing along the column of your throat, biting and sucking marks into the skin there. when you’re begging him for more, he relents, eases your panties off and lifts your leg to slide in from behind. the angle is so nice it has you gasping.
you clutch the sheets weakly, burying your face in your pillow and muffle your whines and moans. bucky keeps a slow, lazy rhythm, acting as if he’s got all the time in the world to draw this out. it’s good, so good, and you can’t hold back your whimper when he kicks up the pace a little, tells you to touch yourself. you come seconds before he does, shuddering through it and humming happily.
as you both lie there and catch your breath, awareness trickles into your mind. you swallow roughly, staring blankly at the wall as you realize your feelings have grown far too much for this to be only casual anymore.
bucky kisses your shoulder again. “i’m gonna go make breakfast, okay? i’ll call you when it’s ready.”
“okay,” you whisper, blinking rapidly to keep tears from forming.
hearing bucky bustle around your kitchen makes your heart clench with want; want for something you can’t have.
***
bucky: dinner tonight?
you bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at the text. you know you need to cut things off with him before you get anymore hurt than you already are. it’s not fair to either of you if you continue with this arrangement when you’ve caught real feelings for him. you have to tell him, and soon. with that thought in mind, you type out a reply.
you: sure. what time?
bucky: reservations are at 8pm, i’ll pick you up by 7:45.
reservations? where was he taking you? you get another text before you can ask.
bucky: dress nice ;)
with a sigh, you text back an affirmative and try to start mentally preparing yourself for the conversation you dreaded having. you could only hope and pray that he agrees to still be your friend after.
by the time there’s a knock on your door that night, you’ve worked yourself up into an anxious mess. you open the door to see bucky standing there with a single peach colored rose and a bashful grin.
“hi,” he greets, leaning in to kiss you on your cheek. “this is for you.”
he hands you the rose and you feel your heart crack in your chest. you muster a small smile.
“thank you. let me go put this in a vase and we can head out.”
he nods and waits patiently at the door. as you fill a vase with a little water, you take a deep breath, giving yourself a mental pep talk.
this was going to suck.
the drive to the restaurant doesn’t take too long, and when you see where he’s taken you, your eyebrows shoot up. this is one of the nicer places in the city, definitely not on the affordable side. he helps you out of the car, leading you inside with his hand on the small of your back. you’re led to a small booth in a far corner with overhead lighting that feels too intimate. maybe you’d have to wait until you left to tell him…
conversation is light, a bit surface level, and you get the feeling that bucky is a little nervous. you wonder if maybe he’s gonna let you down gently first, hoping that he doesn’t, because you’d rather not cry in such a fancy restaurant.
after the waiter takes your drink orders, bucky sighs.
“okay, let me just… get this off my chest.”
oh fuck, here it goes.
“i know i’ve never really come across at the most romantic guy, especially since i’ve never felt the need to be.” he runs a nervous hand through his hair. “you’ve always been so important to me, and this last month has been so, so wonderful.”
“bucky…” you trail off, attempting to somehow stop him, but he powers through.
“i just—i never thought i’d find somebody, you know?” he says, earnest, gaze locked on yours. another crack in your heart. “especially not somebody who was my friend first, that i already had a solid foundation with. the attraction had always been there, but the friendship meant more to me, and finally allowing that to blossom into this amazing, new, fun relationship has got to be the best decision i’ve ever made.”
did he start dating someone and not tell you? oh god, has he been sleeping with someone else? at the same time? your stomach turns, eyes burning, hating yourself more and more as he speaks.
“so, i guess what i’m trying to say is,” he says, rolling his eyes at himself and smiling, “happy one month anniversary, sweetheart.”
you blink, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. “what?” you croak, beyond confused.
bucky, however, looks concerned. “baby, why are you crying?”
“i…” you blink some more, eyes flitting around the room as if you’ll get some kind of clarity that way to the situation currently happening. “what?” you repeat.
“did i come on too strong?” he asks, looking embarrassed now. “i wasn’t sure if you’d even want to celebrate, but i’ve just been so happy with you—i’m sorry, baby, i should’ve asked.”
“bucky, what are you talking about?” you finally manage, unable to keep the bewilderment out of your tone. “anniversary?”
bucky frowns. “i didn’t get the date wrong, did i?”
“no, i—this isn’t—i’m not talking about—ugh, i mean, when did we even start having an anniversary to celebrate?”
bucky’s face goes blank, sitting back in his chair. your heart is pounding wildly in your chest, so fucking confused, so fucking hopeful.
“we… we’re dating,” he says, slow, unsure. “aren’t we?”
“since when?” you ask probably too loudly, cheeks flushing.
he opens and closes his mouth a couple times. “when i asked you out?”
“bucky, oh my god, you’re gonna have to be more specific before i lose my goddamn mind. when did you ask me out?”
he huffs, his own cheeks flushing. “at the cafe! a month ago, at brunch with natasha and sam.”
your eyes widen in disbelief. “when you asked if you could fuck me until i cried?” you hiss, ignoring the scandalized look on the waiter’s face as he brings your drinks over.
smiling apologetically, you thank him and wait until he’s gone before sending a glare bucky’s way.
“that’s not how you ask a person out,” you seethe.
“i asked if you wanted to give this a try and you said yes!” he replies desperately. “i’ve taken you on dates!”
you pinch the bridge of your nose, thinking of all the times you thought he was being too romantic, more-than-friends type of behavior. you’re a fucking idiot, but god, so was he.
“at no point did you say anything even remotely close about us starting a relationship. i thought we were just fucking, bucky, i didn’t realize it was more than that!”
“you don’t—“ he starts, then stops, looking down at the plate in front of him. “you don’t want to be with me?”
“i didn’t know it was an option,” you say carefully.
“well, it is.” he meets your gaze, cautious. “i just spilled my guts to you. you know how i feel now. how do you feel? about me?”
you lick your lips. “bucky, i… i was planning to end things with you tonight.” his expression drops, even though he tries to mask it, so you’re quick to explain. “not because i don’t like you, but because i do like you and i thought you wouldn’t want anything more than just sex with me.”
“it’s never been and never could have been just sex with you,” he replies, quiet and relieved. he reaches across the table to take your hand in his. “i meant it when i said you’re the best decision i’ve ever made. i want this—the sex, the dinners, dates, all the gross and sappy shit i never wanted before… i want it all with you, if you’ll have me.”
you can’t fight the smile spreading across your lips. “of course i’ll have you, bucky.”
he smiles in return, a laugh bubbling out of him, which makes you giggle, until you’re both laughing so hard and loud that patrons from other tables are sending dirty looks your way, which only makes you laugh more.
“do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, laughter dying down. “there’s pizza and sex calling our names, i think.”
bucky moans dramatically. “i knew i liked you for a reason.”
he leaves money on the table and then the two of you quickly make your way through the restaurant, giggling and holding hands the whole way, even in the car.
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chosok-amo · 4 months
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TIME TO CONFESS: RYOMEN SUKUNA
halloween night and you decided to go to the party that you're best friend(maybe)— Yuji Itadori has at his house and he has an older brother, a hot, sexy and handsome older brother, Sukuna. You're having a crush on him for as long as you can remember, and goddess of luck seems like it on your side that night.
olderbrother! sukuna, jealous!sukuna, virgin! reader, human sukuna, non-sorcerer, praise, degradation, names calling, chocking, hair-pulling, dirty talk, rough sex.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!
“y/n, you came,” the pink-haired boy shouted between the loud music. with a drink in his left hand, he came to you and hugged you. you smiled at him and hugged him back as you felt he kiss your cheeks. he looked at you up and down before tilting his head to the side, “devil, huh?” you are sure you can see lust in his eyes as he scans your body. yuji is wearing a tight, spiderman costume. you can see the outline of his dick, even from afar— he has a big and long dick, that's for sure. “you look good in this,” you smile as you run your hands on his stomach, feeling his hard-rock abs. he smirks at you before letting his hands that in your back go down to your ass, squeeze it as he pulls you closer until your tits touch his chest.
“come on, let's meet the others.”
he holds your waist as he guides you somewhere. his huge house is painted with halloween decoration. “it's so crowded in here, how many people do you invite?” you ask him as you look around. his place is filled with people you didn't know.
“i don't know exactly,” he laughed.
he brought you to the sofa where you could see all your friends. “lady, you look hot,” yuta came, both hands holding a drink you assume for maki, his girlfriend. you look at him up and down and send him a smirk, “you, yourself look hot too, not as hot as your girlfriend tho.” he rolled his eyes and chuckled lightly, “yeah, can't argue with you bout that.” he kissed you check before sit beside his girlfriend and hand her the drink. they both dressed as a couple— harley quinn and joker.
“come here,” Yuji sat himself beside a spike-haired boy known as megumi fushiguro and pulled you by hand to sit on his lap. his palm hand rested on your ass— squeeze it in tiny from time to time. for quite a long minutes you just sat on yuji's lap and talked with your friends. nobara hands you a glass of alcohol as he sits beside maki and looks at yuji. “have you met yuko ozawa?” she asked and lifted her eyebrows.
“who?” you asked and looked at the boy. he looked at you and nobara alternately before waving his hand in the air. “there's no reason for me to meet her,” he said which made the girl roll her eyes. “yuko ozawa was the girl from junior high school, yuji's ex,” megumi explain to you, you nodded your head as a respond. “she cheated on me, don't want to have anything to do with a cheater,” yuji added.
“yeah, I just pity her because she seems so desperate and causes a lot of drama, it's mental,” nobara remarked and took a sip of her alcohol. “you guys just wanna sit here and talk? you should go home instead,” inumaki said and went where people were dancing, followed by megumi and nobara— who literally had to drag the boy to dance with her. “we wanna go somewhere too,” Yuta said, smiling at you and yuji. his hand wrapped around maki's waist as the girl leaned her body to her boyfriend.
“please wear condoms, I don't want to clean your mess again, it's disgusting,” yuji begged. the black-haired boy's face became a crimson red and cleared his throat. “were not that messy,” he mumbled as you laugh, making his face become even redder in embarrassment. “we can make a mess as much as we want, you just sad because nobody's want to fuck you,” maki defend her boyfriend.
“come on baby, don't mind them.”
and the two of them lose between the crowd, leaving you with yuji. you shift your attention from the crowd to yuji as you feel his hands rub your tight smoothly. “wanna dance?” he asked, nearly whispering. he looked into your eyes for a moment before focusing on your parted lips. “i don't know, there are too many people,” you whispered back to him. he could feel your breath kiss his face. “maybe we can stay here for a while,” he mumbles on your lips before he kisses you.
you can taste the alcohol on his lips, vaguely. you corrected your sitting position, previously you were sitting crookedly on his lap, now you are sitting on his lap with your legs on the sides of his thighs, holding him in place. yuji runs his hand to your tight, moving them to your ass and squeezing them— rocking you back and forth on top of his lap. you can feel his dick getting harder under your cunt.
“fuck, y/n,” he moaned in your mouth.
you keep grinding on yuji's dick and hug his neck to pull him closer, losing your finger under his soft and fluffy locks. feeling your finger on his scalp makes yuji moan. he put his tongue in your mouth, lock them with yours. you can feel a bit of your saliva run down to your chin from the side of your mouth. your body feels hot because of the make-out because yuji's hands keep squeezing your ass and spanking them slightly, because of how hard you can feel his dick under your cunt.
“you are so fucking sexy,” he whispered as he pulls away from your sloppy make-out session and look the trace of saliva on your chin. he grabbed your neck and pulled you closer making you yelp in lust. he kisses your neck, sucks them and bites them— giving you a hickey. “yes baby, keep going,” he breath out on your neck, telling you to keep moving on his dick and make them wet with his precum and your wetness, lucky for him you decide not to wear any underwear.
you're so busy with yuji and your little world that you don't realize someone was watching you the entire time. from the moment you walk into the door until you are on yuji's lap, making the boy's dick harder each second— boring his eyes on your back wishing he could just make you despair.
“i'm gonna go get a drink, wait for me yeah?” you tell yuji, giving him a little kiss on the lips before getting up. “don't make me wait too long,” he spoke as you saw him run his hand to his throbbing dick. you can see a white stain on his costume and the way his dick looks more visible and longer than before. you feel your cunt twitching because of the sight. “I won't, pretty boy.” with that you waltz your way into the crowd, where all the alcohol is.
you put some candy in your mouth as you pour some alcohol into your plastic cup and suddenly a raspy and deep voice could be heard from behind you as the hot wind kisses your naked shoulder (your costume is the same as the picture). “fuck,” you muttered in surprised and snap your neck to find whoever does that to you. your eyes meet with red pupils, blue light flashing on the eyes, face covered with a tattoo, hair styles up showing his loving forehead. “sukuna,” you breathe out making the man smirk.
“doll face,” he teased.
he smirks, but you can clearly tell he's upset. his eyes darker than usual, his smirk looks more sinister rather than in a flirty way, and his hot breath kisses your face— heating your cheeks. ryomen sukuna, yuji's older brother, mean, arrogant yet so fucking hot older brother, also your crush for you don't know how long. he's wearing a priest costume— in slutty way that shows his tattoo and his eight-pack. ever since you lie your eyes on sukuna's shirtless form the first time you come to their place, all you could ever think about is how good it must feel to get fuck by him. you make it obvious, shamelessly showing your body with how little you let the fabric cover your body everytime you come over when you know he's around.
sukuna knows that he knows how desperate you are to want his dick to be inside your cunt. he likes the attention and effort you gave to him and seduces him. as much as an asshole he is, you're his little brother's best friend, someone who he cares about, so he doesn't do anything about it. at least not until he saw you walking through his front door, looking all sexy and gorgeous, and seeing your make-out session with yuji makes him jealous—he doesn't want to admit it— but all he's thinking about right now is fuck you to oblivion and remind you that he's the only man you want, he's the only one you want to get fucked by, not his brother.
that's why you are in your position right now, pinned against the wall with your leg wrapped around sukuna's waist, in his bedroom, forgetting yuji who was waiting for your return. his big hand in your ass to support your body so you don't fall. lips collided for dear life, doesn't care how you're about to lose your breath. you pull away only for him to grip your nape and smashed his lips back. “don't fucking move,” he growls, biting your lips in the process. you whimper when you feel a bit sting on your lips and that's only to encourage sukuna to kiss you more and put his tongue inside your mouth.
sukuna's left hand that was still under your ass moves upward, feeling your naked-soaked cunt. he smirks when you moan from his touch, leaving your lips to look at your face. “so you decided to come here to party, where you know there's gonna be a lot of drunk-loser and humping on my brother without wearing any underwear? are you really that desperate for a dick, y/n? hm?” his middle finger going up and down between your fold. “you're so fucking wet, it is because of my brother or me?” he looks into your eyes, still with a cocky smirk on his lips.
he tightened his grip on your neck as you refused to speak. “answer me when I fucking talk to you, y/n,” he commanded and shoved his two fingers inside your cunt roughly. “f-fuck sukuna,” you whimper and close your eyes for a second. “bet you can get wet easily no matter who he is since you're so fucking desperate for a dick,” he mocked you. “only for your dick,” you tell him, confidently locking your eyes with his. sukuna lifts his eyebrows after hearing your words.
“yeah?”
so he puts you down and sits on his chair— manspread. he pats his one tight, signalling you to sit there. “sit here and hump on my tight, show me how such a fucking slut you are,” his deep voice calls you. with no hesitation you sit on one of his laps and start to move your hips back and forth. your bent knee found themselves on sukuna's dick, rubbing it from the outside of his black pants. sukuna moans, throwing his head back for a second. one of his hands gripping harshly on your hips to support your moves.
he pulls the zipper of your dress down, leaving you with nothing but a fake wing on your back. he guides your hand to his dick— you can feel his erection. you pull his dick out of his pants and your eyes widen because of the sight in front of you. you sure that sukuna has a massive dick, more long and thick than yuji, but you don't expect it to be that big, clean and trimmed. he's probably nearly 11 inches and 5cm girth.
you shift from his dick to look at his face— which is already looking at you with a sly grin. he knows you've never seen a dick as massive as his and it boosts his confidence until it hits the roof. you wrap your little finger around his dick, spreading his precum around the head with your thumb. “fuck, y/n,” he breathed out. heart beating fast and lips dry, he lets you play with his dick while you keep humping on his tight, making a mess there. he feels hot, burning as he looks at your pretty face. his dick frantically fucking your fist as you keep on making a mess over his tight.
your tiny hands fit perfectly on his dick, but it's not enough for sukuna. he wants your mouth around his dick, begging and on your knees. “fuck y/n, your hand fit perfectly on my dick, wondering how your mouth feels sucking me— fuck, get on your knees, baby,” he can't take it anymore. you obey him and go down on the floor, on your knees as sukuna stands tall with his dick in Infront of your face. he pulls down his pants and throws it somewhere you don't pay any attention to.
sukuna looked at you and gave his dick a few strokes, grunting in between. his red eyes were half open, full of lust and danger— your strange addiction. he placed his free hand on top of your head as he smacked your lips with his dick. you look up to him with your big innocent eyes, quite the opposite of your state right now. sukuna's dick twitched in pain because of the sight. he squeeze his dick lightly before, “open your mouth, it's time to confess your sin, slut,” he demanded.
you stick your tongue out, touching his mushroom head with it, “forgive me, father, for i have sinned,” and with that slowly you put his dick into your mouth. again, sukuna cocking his head back with his dick touching with warmth and wetness of your mouth. his hand tightly grips your hair— holding you to stay in place as he tries to get used to your filthy mouth. and the sentence you just said to him wasn't giving him any help at all, only making him more hornier than before.
“fuck, fuck, fuck, y/n!”
he looked back at you as he slowly rocked his hips back and forth inside your mouth. you can only fit almost half of his dick, even your jaw hurts because of how thick his dick is. “open your mouth properly baby, I know your mouth can take me,” he moaned. you shake your head slightly and try to push him by his tight only for him to wrap your hair around his hands and push his dick further until the head touches your throat down. “ah, fuck, like that baby,” a load whimpers left sukuna's mouth and close his eyes— enjoying the feeling of his dick bottomed out inside your mouth. you hit his tight with your palm as you feel like you can't breathe and tears start to gather around your eyes.
he keeps on fucking your throat without any mercy, he doesn't care how tears keep streaming down your face, how red your face is because of lack of oxygen. all he ever thinks and cares about is how good his dick felt inside your mouth. you don't either, all you ever wanted is to feel sukuna to spit his cum and fill your throat. your tongue sends a burning sensation into sukuna's dick, playing with his vein and tip while he keeps on fucking your throat— making him cum faster than he usually is. “fuck, fuck, baby, ’m close, so good— ah..” and a second later you feel something exploded inside your mouth, leaving an aftertaste of sweet, salty and a little bit sour. you gladly swallow all of sukuna's semen without a second thought.
he waits for a few seconds until you swallow all of his cum before he drew his dick out and met with your cough as you tried to grasp some air. you pulled out your tongue to show him and he chuckled sinisterly and stroked your head gently, “you're such a good girl, y/n.” he gripped on your chin between his thumb and index finger and stuck his tongue inside your mouth to feel himself before kissing you roughly. “do you want me to fuck you, hm? want me to fuck you good, baby?” he mumbles on your lips and slaps your sloppy cunt. “yes, sukuna, yes.. fuck me,” you sound more desperate.
he smirked, “come here, slut.”
he carried you to the bed, laying you on your back with your feet at the edge. he threw your feet over his shoulder while pressing the other one to the bed, making your cunt wide open. he smiles as he looks at your cunt, feeling proud of himself to know how wet he gets you. “look at you, y/n, you're so fucking wet, i don't even get to use my hands. who knows yuji has such a slutty friend. or it's because you like me, hm?” feels like all of the blood from your body makes its way to your cheeks, making you look so innocent yet so dirty. so all this time, he knows you like him. you feel embarrassed which makes sukuna laugh a little.
“you make it obvious, with the way you dress and how much you try to impress me and to get you fucked—” he stopped for a while as he parts your fold to look at your holes clutch into nothingness. “you're doing a pretty good job since I always have to fuck my fist every time you come over with that slutty outfit of yours,” he put his two fingers inside your mouth, cover them with your saliva before sticking them inside your cunt, slowly going in an out. “gonna stretch this cunt before you get to taste my dick,” he talks to himself, looking at his hands before looking back at you. “you must be feeling grateful now you're about to get fucked by me.”
you moaned in pleasure but sukuna didn't let you have your fun for a long time as he collected his finger. you cry in dissatisfaction and narrow your eyes at him. “be patient baby. I'm gonna give you something more than a finger, I'll get you pregnant, gonna fuck you until you can't walk,” he pulls you by the neck to kiss you roughly. his hands went down to your cunt to wet his palm with your juice, use it as a lube for his dick. he rub his dick to your cunt as you mewl. “please, sukuna, fuck me. i want your dick inside my pussy so bad, please,” you begged on his lips, between the kiss.
“yeah? you sure?”
you nodded, “yes, been waiting for this dick for too long.”
he smiles and pushes you back to the bed. “such an impatient little whore.” and without further ado, he thrust his dick into your cunt slowly, he wants to feel how good your cunt is for the first. “oh fuck, sukuna,” you choked and your back arch as sukuna's dick fill you. “so tight, shit. I never knew you were going to be this tight, baby,” he growled— feel your gummy wall hug his dick perfectly. soon the loud claps of your skins touching reverberate through the wall of the room. the sound of skin slapping along with your screams made sukuna content.
“fuck y/n, pussy so good— ah!”
he keeps pounding his dick inside you, hitting your sweet spot every time. the second the sight of his dick bulges on your stomach, he puts his hand there and presses it, finds his dick moving under his palm. “if know your cunt gonna be this good I'm gonna fuck you sooner than wasting my time on fucking my fist.” pleasant clouded your sense and you can't think of anything other than the pleasure sukuna gave you. your eyes looking at him with temptation glint, half closed, crimson cheeks, tits bounce and with black wings on your back, looking like an angle, a slutty one. there's no better sight than this for sukuna.
“ ’s good, kuna, fuck— me, ahh..”
loud music from the outside but both of you could hear your moan, whimpering and the sound of your skin slapping each other. you yelp in surprise when sukuna suddenly flips your body— making him face your back, putting you in doggy style. he pulls you by feet making you stand while the rest of your body is still on the bed. again he rolls his hips back to your cunt, bottomed out. in your current position, you can feel all of his dick inside you. “oh fuck! too much, kuna, i can't—” you try to pull yourself away only for sukuna to tuft your hair, jacking your head back. he uses his other hand to grip your throat, and squeeze it gently. he pulls you closer until your back is a few centimetres away from his chest.
“shh baby, I know, i know,” he whispered in your ear. hot breath kissing your neck and start thrusting into your cunt. he let your hair go to cover your mouth as the choked sob leaves from between your lips. “so good for me, baby, taking me so well, squeeze me y/n— fuck, yes, like that.. ah! good girl, oh fuck. my dick is better than yu ji, right? tell me baby.” a moan and wail and grunt soon fill the room, again. a spank kiss your ass as sukuna demand an answer from you, “yes, ’s good, feels so good inside me, better than yuji— ah, fuck,” you let out a cry leaving sukuna satisfied. you can no longer feel the pain but pleasure. sukuna's dick keeps on bullying into your overstimulated cunt. you no longer thinking about yuji while the boy is outside of the room— looking for you.
the door to the sukuna bedroom swings open, revealing yuji standing there. sukuna gave him a sly grin as he kept on pounding at you but you didn't realize, too deep into the pleasure that sukuna gave you. yuji closed the door and locked it before he found his way to in front of you, on the bed. you open your eyes as you feel something touching your lips only for you to meet with naked yuji, on his knees in front of you with his dick in your mouth. his usually bright brown eyes now looking dark, clouded with lust and desire. “sucks, y/n.” he commands you. without waiting for you, he fuck his way into your throat, choking you. a loud relief moan leaves his lips. “ah fuck!”
he pulls your hair, “you're so mean leaving me out there while you were here, getting fucked by my brother. I didn't know my best friend is a dirty little whore. how about you take us at the same time, princess? since you're so fucking hungry for dick and my dick wasn't enough for you,” he ramble. who knows someone as sweet as yuji has a dirty mouth. sukuna on the other hand enjoys the sight of you sucking his brother.
and by the heart you know you're gonna have a long night in front of you. and you don't think the two brothers gonna go easy on you either. let's just say you have the best night you could ever imagine.
1K notes · View notes
innieandsungielover · 2 months
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A/N: This is my first ever fic that I'm posting on this account, or on skz in general, so I hope you guys like it! My inbox is open, so hit me up ig?
Pairing: Bully-ish!Hyunjin x afab!Reader (enemies to lovers)
18+ minors dni!!!
CW: Unprotected sex, oral (fem! receiving), cum eating, fucking in a public area, but no one comes inside!
WC: 3.3k
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Love is a fickle thing, it always starts with an infatuation. You constantly think about them, yearn for them, cry for them. Surround yourself with the things they like in hopes of finding something in common.
You never felt you could find this sense of attraction. You watched as people fell in and out of love, but for you, it was just a figment of your imagination. 
There was only one time you were close enough to “love” someone, but instead of the feeling of contentment, it was one of hatred. You were infatuated with him, but not in the way that most would be, you could only see the negative, blinded by hatred for the man in front of you. 
He was in your art class, while you worked with clay pieces, he worked with watercolors. Everyone was in awe of his work, especially your professor. 
There were always subtle tones of love in every one of his paintings. It was his main emotion, his main drive, and it was truly beautiful.
The first time you ever saw one of his paintings was when you accidentally stumbled upon it, it being left in the classroom to dry as he went to go get coffee. 
You were working on one of your structures, an entangled face that showed a range of emotions. It was something that you wanted to achieve to show the complexity of the human mind, of emotions, but you ended up getting distracted by his painting.
You stood in front of it for what felt like hours, looking over each brush stroke, each blend of color, it was beautiful. You hadn’t realized you were crying, a few tears wetting your cheek until Hyunjin was in front of you holding out a tissue. 
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry” you tripped over your words as you took the tissues from his hand, thanking him. “It’s no problem, I’m actually very grateful” 
“And why is that?” you asked, dabbing the tissue at your tear ducts.“My work has never brought someone to tears” he grinned, taking a sip of his iced americano, the condensation of the drink ran down his cup like your tears just moments prior. 
“I don’t know how it hasn’t, the way you depict love is truly extraordinary, I’ve yet to see anything like it before. It isn’t even your form of painting, nor the medium, but the way you can feel the emotion pouring through the artist into their art is magnificent” 
“Such high praise from the teacher’s pet, what did I do to deserve this?” he chuckled, sitting back at his easel, playing with the brushes in the palm of his hand. 
“I’m not the teacher's pet” you glared at him, hating the way your voice stuttered as you spoke out against his accusations. “You most definitely are” he rolled his eyes, causing your eyebrows to furrow, “how else are you affording all your materials while others have much crappier ones? T-E-A-C-H-E-R’S P-E-T” he stated, enunciating every note at the end of his sentence.  
You glared at him, not feeling the need to prove yourself against his harmful words. No longer wanting to be belittled, you turned around, the clay that was previously stuck to your hands cracking. 
You tried to ignore him, truly, but every time you thought you were no longer going to see his face, there he appeared. 
At first, it was at your job, he would come at least three times a day, getting his daily Iced Americano fix. 
“Isn’t it unhealthy to drink more than one of these a day?” you asked, it was slower today so you had time to talk to him as he paid. 
“Wow, she speaks!” he exclaimed, slowly pulling out his card. “I thought you were taking a vow of silence seeing as every time you don’t even ask me what I want. I thought customer service helps you keep your job?” he joked, tilting his head to the side. 
“Well, my manager said it was okay to ignore dicks, so I think that’s what I’m doing!” you grinned, using your ‘customer service voice’ as he just rolled his eyes at you. 
“You would love to see my dick” he whispered, coming closer to the register so only you could hear him. 
Through a smile, you muttered, “If it’s anything like your personality, I bet it’s disgusting and nothing special!” 
He just tsked at you, walking away as someone had finally entered the little coffee place, coming up to the register to place their order. 
The next place was in your own apartment. You had no idea that your roommate, Felix, was close friends with the devil incarnate. 
“Why does he have to come over?” you whined, your body clad in overalls and a tank top as you took a bite of the warm brownie that he had made to help bring you to the “dark side”. 
As you took another bite, you didn’t realize the chocolate that was oozing out of the fudgy dessert, getting on the corner of your mouth. 
“He’s my best friend, plus I don’t know why you don’t like him. He’s like so nice to everyone, not to mention isn’t he your type? I do remember you loooove tall guys, people who are into are, and love reading. He checks all of your boxes babe” he giggled, watching as you glared at him, cheeks filled with the brownies he made you. 
“That doesn’t forgo him being one of the worst people I’ve ever met like he’s such a fucking asshole” you groaned, taking a sip of milk. 
“Hey! That “asshole” happens to be my best friend, so don’t talk about him like that or I’m cutting you off!” 
For such a small and kind dude, he sure had a fiery side to him. You simply nodded your head, lowering it in defeat, allowing him to pet it. 
He began to coo at you as he stroked your hair back. “Look at you being such a good roommate” he giggled, feeding you more of the brownie, which you happily accepted. 
“Now I have to go shower, so if he comes, please open the door for him and make him feel a bit welcome?” Lixie grinned at you, bopping your nose as you nodded your head, not wanting to be a nuisance to your friend. 
You scrolled on your phone, your legs hitting the cabinets underneath the counter you were currently situated on before you heard the jingle of the door knob. Before you could even jump down, the door opened itself, Hyunjin in front of it key in hand. 
“Felix, I can’t wait to tell you about this–” he cut himself off as he saw you, legs jangling off of the kitchen counter, phone in one hand, brownie in the other. 
“What the fuck are you doing here? Are you a stalker or something?” he groaned, placing his stuff on the couch, only for his hands to cross over his body, trying to prove a point. 
“I live here, Felix is my roommate and I’m going back to my room,” you said as kindly as you possibly could, not wanting to upset Lix after he politely asked you not to be a dick. 
“I don’t believe it, you want me that bad you made up an entire scheme to try and sleep with me, I mean I know I’m irresistible, but still that’s a new low.” 
Before he could continue spewing nonsense, you took his hand dragging it to your room. You opened the door allowing him to look inside. Your bra on the floor, your bed made but a bit crumpled from sitting on it earlier, and pictures of you and your friends littering the walls. 
“Is this enough proof for you?” you asked, tilting your head to the side waiting for his response. 
Instead, he took your face in the palm of his hand, his thumb first stroking your chin then slowly shifting down to the corner of your lip. He pulled you a bit closer, your eyes roaming his face, and your breath was caught in your throat. You thought he was going to kiss you, he pulled away with a laugh. 
“What a loser, you had chocolate all over your face while trying to talk to me. Aren’t you the least bit embarrassed?” he grinned, placing the thumb that was just rubbing at the corner of your lip into his mouth, savoring the taste. 
“You mean nothing to me, so why would I care?” you shrugged, taking your wallet in your hand before slowly moving away from your dorm frame to the entrance of your apartment. 
“Tell Felix I’m not going to be back for dinner” With that you left, leaving Hyunjin dumbfounded in the middle of your apartment. 
He was just trying to play hard to get, but you were still not getting it. Did you not notice that he went out of his way to go to the coffee shop that was out of his way, only on days you were working? How he spent hours in the classroom with you just to hear what song you were obsessed with that week, it was like you were oblivious to his infatuation with you. You couldn’t be that dumb, could you?
The last and most hated place to see him was the studio. It was your sanctuary, sure your room meant a lot to you, your own private space, but while working on your art, everything was basically white noise.
From the moment you put on your headphones, you are lost in a trance. The only thing on your mind is the piece in front of you and how you could make it better from the last. 
You were so immersed in your work, that you didn’t realize that Hyunjin had entered the room, working on his own piece.  
Almost an hour had passed as the two of you sat working on your respective pieces. What you didn’t notice was that he was on the phone. You could see his lips moving, but you didn’t think much of it, partly because you didn’t care enough, and the other half was because your favorite song was playing and you had forgotten about him.
It wasn’t until your headphones died that you finally heard the words leaving his mouth. 
“She’s so fucking cute, but I don’t know how she hasn’t noticed that I like her yet. Like why else would I go to her coffee shop 3 times a day Felix? And don’t say it’s because I have a coffee addiction, I know that, but I only go there to see her. And fuck, did you see her at Bin’s party, that short skirt I thought I was going to cum right there and then. How difficult is it for her to see that I like her?” he groaned, covering his face with his hands.
You didn’t even realize that you dropped your bowl of water until he looked up at you, your eyes meeting his. Before you could properly react, he quickly hung up the phone, walking towards you. 
You didn’t even realize, but you had started to run away, but you had nowhere to hide. You squatted down, trying to shield your body from him, but it only allowed him to come closer to you. 
“You heard what I said, didn’t you?” he asked as he crouched down to meet your height.
You didn’t respond, instead just nodding your head, which caused him to groan. He slowly pulled your hands away from your face, his hand on your chin. 
“I like you” he whispered, his face coming closer to yours. “Okay?” you responded, your voice quieter than his. 
“Let me show you” and with that, he captured your lips with his, pulling your body closer to him. Your lips were working in tandem as he wrapped your legs around his torso, your hands flying to the back of his neck, allowing him to pick you up. 
He pulled both of your bodies up, leading you to the closest desk, not allowing the two of you to break your kiss. His tongue licking at the seam of your mouth, begging for an entrance. 
You allowed it, your breaths getting heavier as he pushed his cock into the seam of your leggings, the room filled with your whimpers as he pressed deeper into you, allowing you to feel the hardness of him through his jeans. 
He slowly pulled away, a trail of spit connecting the two of you. “Fuck” you whined as he slowly pulled down your leggings, the cool air causing goosebumps to riddle your legs and arms. 
“Look at this pretty little cunt” he whispered, admiring the way your lips pushed against the cotton of your underwear. “Can’t wait to eat it” he grinned, tearing off your underwear causing you to shout. 
“Hyunjin what the fuck, I never said you could do that?” but you were cut off by the feeling of his plush lips against your clit, lapping away. Your hands instantaneously grasped his hair, pushing him deeper into you, allowing the only thought on his mind to be your pussy. 
You moaned as he continued lapping at it, learning every curve, where you loved being touched. He wanted to understand you, know what made you tick, he wanted to make you his. 
He slowly brought his hand up to your cunt, his finger teasing your hole before slowly pushing it inside of you. “Do you like that baby?” he whispered into your cunt, the vibration on your clit causing your eyes to roll back. 
“Feels so good” you whimpered as you lowered yourself, your back hitting the table. 
He didn’t want to stop until he made you cum in his mouth, he needed to taste you after chasing you for months. He slowly added another finger, thrusting it inside of your soaking hole, his other hand grabbing your thighs, pulling you closer to him. 
“Gonna cum Jinnie” you whimpered, your high being near. As soon as the word Jinnie left your lips, he felt like he was going to cum, the sound of you moaning his name was ringing in his ears and he needed to hear it again and again. 
“Fuck baby, gonna cum, gonna cum on my fingers like a good girl?” 
“Yes, gonna cum for Jinnie” you whimpered, your orgasm taking control of your body, it twitching under the feeling of his fingers continuously thrusting into you, hitting that spongey spot in your repeatedly. 
“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on” he whispered, kissing your lips once again. 
You could feel his cock pressing onto your thigh, it protruding through his jeans and all you could think about was making him feel good.  
“Want to make you feel good Jinnie” you whined, pulling away from his lips as your hands frantically went to his jeans, pulling them down to try and get access to his cock. There was a slight wet patch on his boxers, which made you whimper. 
“Please, need it” you whined, your hands trailing to your cunt, spreading your lips apart to show him how wet you were for him. 
“You are going to kill me baby” he grinned, pulling his boxers down, allowing his cock to hit his stomach. Your eyes looked at him in fear when you saw his size. He was long and thick, bigger than everyone you’ve ever been with. 
“Don’t tell me you are scared” he chuckled, running the tip of his cock along your folds, capturing your wetness along his tip. You shook your head, trying to prove to him that you weren’t. 
“It’s okay baby, I’ll go slow, let me get a condom” But before he could even reach into his jeans to get his wallet, you stopped him. “It’s okay, I’m on the pill, please need to feel all of you Jinnie” 
Who was he to say no to your cute pleading face, so he slowly pushed the tip of his cock into you, causing the two of you to moan. You at the feeling of your cunt being stretched out, and him at the feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock. 
His cock was so deep inside of you, you felt like you could cum from just his cock resting inside of you. 
“Fuck baby, your pussy is taking me so well, wish we did this before instead of all this bickering, it’s like you were made for me.” he moaned while slowly beginning to thrusting into you, making sure he wasn’t going to fast.
To ensure your comfort, and to get you closer to your high because he knew he wasn’t going to last long, he began playing with your clit. “Jinnie feels so good, you are so deep inside of me” you whimpered.
He took it as a sign to start thrusting into you deeper. Each thrush hits your g-spot perfectly. With the stimulation of his finger on your clit, you couldn’t do it anymore. You started clenching down on him harder and harder. 
Your cunt was locking him in and all he could do was groan. The final push was when he moaned directly into your ear. You came all over his cock letting your moans hit his ear. He pulled out of you stroking his cock “Where do you want me to cum baby?” he whined, feeling close.
“I want it in my mouth” you begged and that was all he needed. He slowly lifted your body from the table as you fell to your knees in front of him, allowing him to push his cock into your mouth. 
He shoved it deep inside, causing you to deep-throat it, and came straight down your throat. “Fuck, I can’t believe we didn’t do that sooner.” he grinned. 
“It’s all your fault, you were the bully” you whined, trying to find your leggings to pull over your body since the room had gotten significantly cooler. 
“We should get dressed though, we don’t need anyone else to know what we just did” he looked around frantically, a worried look on his face, causing you to laugh.
“You just fucked me on a desk, and now you are scared?” 
“Yes, because I had this whole plan of taking you out to dinner, and buying you this really pretty dress I saw that I thought looked perfect for you and everything” he pouted. 
He looked adorable like this, and you couldn’t believe it was the same man that made your life a living hell, that was now in front of you causing you to coo at his jutted lip. 
“You are so cute” you mumbled, grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss. Maybe love starts off different for everyone. 
_____
You walked into your apartment, hand in hand. A grin splayed on his face as you fought with him about how drinking iced americanos more than twice a day was crazy, and how his heart was going to stop. 
The two of you didn’t even realize that Felix was in your living room until the two of you heard an “I fucking knew it!” 
He was whooping and hollering around your apartment. “I knew it was going to start with this enemies-to-lover type shit and then boom y’all are going to fuck” 
Before the two of you could even utter a single word, he stopped you by continuing. “Please tell me it wasn’t on our shared couch though, it doesn’t need to be fucked on a second time” 
“You what!” you looked at him with fury in your eyes, Hyunjin just laughed at the spectacle playing out in front of him, damn he loved you. 
639 notes · View notes
lxkeee · 2 months
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IT'S BEEN SO LONG
-PART TWO
pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Adopted! Fem angel! Reader [platonic!]
fandom: Hazbin Hotel
genre: fluff and cute
notes: will be making a male version of this. Someone please remind me.
PART ONE | PART THREE | NAVIGATION
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THIS TAKES PLACE TWO WEEKS BEFORE THE PART ONE TIMELINE
Lucifer smiles as he watches his daughter interact with the new guests of the hotel, after the recent extermination, sinners began to slowly get interested with the hotel and wanted to give redemption a shot. Though, he can't exactly say that business is booming as the hotel only gained three new guests—a sibling of three, an older sister, a middle child brother, and their little sister.
They thought the hotel could help them and decided to join, in which Charlie, his daughter welcomed them with open arms.
Currently, he's sitting by the bar while Husk prepares his drink. Lucifer watches the interaction between the youngest new guest and his daughter. Charlie holding the small girl in her arms as she raised her up in the air, the small child giggling in glee. The scene evoking an almost forgotten memory of Lucifer.
“Charlie, Charlie! Uppies again! Please!” the girl giggles and Charlie nodded and raised the smaller girl up, making the child laugh.
The scene almost made Lucifer cry, as a memory flashed in his mind—a certain angel that he sees as a daughter despite not being related to him. [Y/n], his adopted daughter. The first girl he raised, he remembers an almost exact scene as this—the memory where he was still in heaven with her, gently throwing her up in the air and her little angel wings fluttering behind her as she falls back into his arms. Heck, he even remembers that the girl accidentally hit his face with a blast of snow.
Husk raises an eyebrow as he notices the king of hell had such a somber expression on his face, Lucifer didn't even react when he placed down the drink he made for him and just opted to play with glass as he was in deep thought.
The feline raises an eyebrow, turning around to continue wiping a freshly cleaned glass, “Penny for your thoughts?” he grumbles, breaking Lucifer's trail of thoughts.
“Just thinking about something. No need to worry.” Lucifer says softly and Husk huffs but decided not to press any further.
Lucifer went back to thinking again, wondering how his daughter is. After he got cast out of heaven, he never saw her again. He never prayed for the sake of himself nor his family as dare he says it would be offensive as his wife and daughter are demons but he prays that his angelic daughter is taken care of.
Even though kneeling down and praying to his father shatters his pride a little bit but he begs, he begs that [y/n] is well taken care of.
He missed her so much. He's guilty for not being there for her, for not being able to see her grow. How is she? Did she grow up to be a fine young woman? Did she become powerful? Does she remember him? Does she miss him like he misses her? He'll never know.
His memory of her getting worse and worse each day, bit by bit her features become blurry in his mind. He tried painting her once but dear God, he's not a painter. He's more of a singer and musician. He threw away the painting, his skills can't do his daughter justice. A shame he doesn't have any pictures of her.
A somber expression returns to his face, Charlie turns to look at her father who had such a sullen expression on his face. The girl gently let's down the child she was holding, ushering them to go play with Vaggie as she was worried about what had gotten her father down in the dumps.
She then walks towards the bar, takes a seat next to her dad. Husk immediately prepares her usual drink—a glass of wine.
“Is there something wrong, dad?” she asked softly and Lucifer chuckles, taking a sip of his drink—a white Russian cocktail.
“Did I ever tell you that you have an older sister?” He began and Charlie's jaw dropped, Husk stopped midway in making Charlie's drink.
Lucifer chuckles at their reactions, “Yes, you have an older sister... Well, adopted older sister rather.” he says with a lazy smile, nostalgia present in his eyes. For a brief moment, the background noise of the hotel blurs.
Charlie's eyes sparkled, “Wait, really?!” she asked excitedly and Lucifer smiled and ruffled her hair.
“Yes, back in heaven. Older angels were tasked to watch over the newly created angels and that's where I took an angel named [y/n] under my wings,” he explained, taking a deep breath as Charlie nodded intently, Husk giving her the wine glass filled with her drink. Lucifer looks at Charlie again, a somber smile on his face, “She's like a daughter to me and I was like a father to her, she always calls me dad.” he explains, his hand twirling the half empty glass cup, swirling the alcoholic drink around.
Charlie nodded, opting to listen to him and ask questions later, “We used to play everyday, I always spend time with her... Teaching her how to fly and how to use her powers.” he chuckles, his finger wiping away a stray tear from his eye.
“I think she grew up to be a powerful angel, after all, she manifested her powers at such an early age. I think she's a prodigy,” he smiles, his dull eyes sparkling as he mentions her, is what Charlie noticed and she just smiled at him, taking a small sip of her wine.
Lucifer took a sip of his own drink, tasting the vodka, coffee liqueur, and cream mixed together before gently placing down the cup back to the counter, “She actually shot my face with a blast of snow accidentally while trying to make a snowflake.” he says.
Charlie laughs at the story, imagining it, Lucifer smiles and he became sad again, thinking the what if's, what if heaven didn't curse him so bad and allowed him to see her or allow her to see him? What if [y/n] grew alongside Charlie? Would she have been a good older sister to Charlie?
“She sounds amazing, dad.” Charlie whispered to him with a smile and Lucifer nodded, “She is.” he agrees.
Charlie's eyes softened as she held her father's hand, “When was the last time you saw her? If you don't mind me asking?” she asked and Lucifer sighed, remembering [y/n]'s tear streamed chubby cheeks as she watched him fall from heaven, his twin brother, Michael holding onto the girl.
“When I fell from grace.” he whispered and Charlie's eyes saddened and she gave a reassuring squeeze to Lucifer's hand. She imagined how painful it must be for him and for her older sister. She wishes she'd gotten a chance to meet her.
“I am sure you two will meet again one day.” Charlie says with a small smile and Lucifer nodded, giving her a small smile in return. “I hope so, Charlie. You're going to love her.” he says, confidently.
“I think I already do, dad. She sounds amazing.” Charlie said with a grin and Lucifer chuckled, “You two will get along just fine when that time comes.”
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TAGLIST:
@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @yukichan67 @apple-pop @akiralovespenguins @storydays @kaurochika @amphiroxx @lil-writer-523 @avitute @lbcreations-blog @dreamzaremyrealityy @des-deswain5621 @snoozewritezz @uiquz @randomuser-89 @flowerboy4eva
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shadesslut · 5 months
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simple things
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MINORS DNI
Pairing: (Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader)
Content Includes: (Smut, slight exhibitionism)
Summary: Mike has had enough of her teasing, finally taking it into his own hands
You see, Mike enjoyed the simple things in life. He enjoyed the feeling of wearing warm laundry on a cold morning. He enjoyed the sounds of Aby’s scribbles coming from her room. He loved his simple life, even if sometimes he complained. People knew him as a man that didn’t need much; just his family and home is what he needed. And he loved it, he loved his simple things, in his simple life. He also loved the simple, dirty, touches Y/N gave him when they were in public. 
They were at the mall, eating lunch on one of Mike’s off days, and she kept grazing her foot up Mike’s thigh from across the table. He was leaned back in the metal chair, manspreading his legs. He sipped on his soda, giving her a pointed look at the now fifth time she touched him. She ignored it, giggling as she continued to rant about her weekend, as if she had no clue what she was doing. Little brat.
He felt his pants strain, and he grunted as he shifted his black sweats. “Something wrong?” She asked in a sweet voice. He shook his head before sticking his tongue into the side of his cheek. Another touch, and Mike felt himself grow harder. His eyes darted down to her exposed cleavage, swallowing harshly as she moved. 
“I’ll be right back,” she said abruptly, standing up from her seat. She leaned forward, placing her weight into the table before kissing Mike on his cheek. He softly hummed and leaned into the kiss. 
She swayed her hips as she walked, and Mike thought it was impossible to get turned on from the way someone walked to the restroom, but here he was. He watched her as she went into the single stall bathroom, bouncing his knee up and down anxiously. 
“Fuck it,” he whispered to himself. He jerked his body up, the sounds of the scraping metal of his chair moving causing heads to turn to him. He didn’t care though. 
He knocked on the door, hearing a muffled, “One second!” come from the other side. He heard water drip from the sink, and a few seconds after the door opened. She had an amused expression painted on her face, but before she could ask him what he was doing, he immediately pressed his body against hers, attacking her mouth with a rough kiss. 
She moaned against him, and he instantly shut and locked the door behind him as he stepped in. 
“Think you can fuckin’ tease me like that and not get away with it?” He asked between kisses, his breath hot on her skin. She softly whined at his touches. 
He groaned and picked her up, holding her by her thighs, and instinctively she wrapped her legs around his waist. 
“You’re such a fucking slut.” He gritted out. 
He rushedly reached down to the waistband of his sweats before awkwardly shrugging them down along with his boxers, not caring if they fell to the dirty floor. His lips moved deliciously against hers, sucking and licking every inch of her. 
“Mike,” she whimpered. “I need you.” 
His eyebrows raised, as if he was challenged. Reaching under her skirt, he tugged at the crotch of her panties, pulling them to the side. “Oh yeah?” He asked, his voice hoarse and deep. 
She nodded. 
“Then fucking take me.” 
He didn’t wait for her to adjust to him. He rammed into her, not caring if he was gentle. She let out a gasp as she scratched at his back. Mike smirked into her neck at the feeling of her wrapping around him. He used the wall to his advantage, flushing her against it as he thrusted deeply into her. 
He ah’ed and oh’ed as he thrusted, not giving a damn to who could hear him. The noises their bodies made against each other sounded so wrong, but it only made Mike’s cock harder. 
He glanced down between them, staring at the belly bulge that was poking through her skirt. He smiled, knowing he was successfully tearing her apart. 
“Fuck yeah, baby, ah- you like that?” He moaned. The stubble on his chin scratched her neck, and all she could do in response was whimper a quiet “yes”.
He felt his movements stutter and his weight pushing more against her body. He could tell she was getting close too. That face she made before coming, the way she scrunched her nose and closed her eyes. He wanted to do her all over again. 
He bounced her on his cock faster. Feeling his cock twitch inside of her, he quickened his movements and jerked his hips one more time before finishing. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck sweetheart I’m coming,” He whimpered into her ear. She felt her belly twist, and soon enough she came with him. She moaned his name, panting heavily as she clenched around him. 
Their sighs filled the air of the bathroom, and Mike let out a soft giggle. 
“W-What?” She panted, smiling. 
He smiled, before tilting his head at her. “Fuckin’ love you baby.”
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Heart Shaped Kisses
R. Ripley x fem!reader
cw: fingering, oral (f receiving), clit play, soft sex, scissoring, top!rhea, bottom!reader, wax play, praising, dirty talk
of course i came back on valentines day, what did you expect?
it kinda switched between 1st and 3rd person, oops. not proofread
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The night had been perfect. Rhea took you to your favorite restaurant where she had a private table reserved for the two of you, with your favorite wine waiting for you, and a tall red candle in the middle of the table that lit the area.
As much as it may be a surprise, Rhea was a hopeless romantic, and she loved valentines day. Any day that gave her an excuse to spoil you, was perfect for her. Your gift was given to her earlier in the morning. You made her breakfast and you had curated an adorable little basket filled with her favorite treats, red and black roses, a stuffed bear with your anniversary date on its paw, and of course you snuck a lingerie set neatly folded on the bottom. Rhea loved it, and she gave you so many kisses afterwards your lips were almost numb.
Now, she pulled out your chair for you, and pushed it back in before taking her seat across from you. She poured you a glass of wine, and smiled at you from across the table.
You had been dating for 3 years, and it always amazed you how she seemed to come up with a new date idea for valentines day each year. It was adorable and you were so grateful for the thought she put into making your night.
"I love this, Rhea. Thank you so much." You spoke gratefully as you looked around the restaurant.
"Of course, I love doing this for you, love." Rhea smiled and she held your hand over the table. Bringing my hand up to her lips, she gave it a soft kiss.
I felt my cheeks heat up and I covered my face with my other hand with a big smile.
"Let me see you, beautiful." Rhea said. I blushed harder and shook my head no, laughing softly.
I uncovered my face a few minutes after, pushing pieces that fell in my face behind my ear.
"There's my beautiful girl." Rhea whispered with a soft smile on her face as she looked at me. I didn't cover my face this time, I just looked the other way as I sipped my wine.
"You're adorable." I said as I looked back her, returning the smile. Rhea playfully rolled her eyes, but I saw her blush as she looked the other way, which made me giggle.
The waiter came around to take your orders, and once he was done Rhea looked back at you.
"You really look beautiful tonight, Y/n." Rhea complimented sweetly.
"Thank you, Rhe. So do you." I complimented back, kissing her hand this time.
Dinner was amazing, she ended up finishing mine for me because I made the mistake of getting something bigger than I usually do but she wasn't complaining. We were in the car now, music playing quietly as her hand gripped my thigh.
We were about a 25 minute drive from the house, so we had a little bit to go. Rhea thumb began rubbing back and forth on the skin of my thigh, and I didn't miss the smirk on her face from the corner of my eye.
Her hand slowly began to inch higher and higher as time went on. I started shuffling in my seat about 5 minutes ago, and it of course didn't go unnoticed.
"What's wrong, baby?" She asked, faux concern in her voice, she knew what was wrong.
"Nothing! I'm just cold, that's all." I lied.
"Hm, okay." Was all she said as she looked back at the road.
Rhea's hand was now under the skirt of my dress, almost touching where I needed her the most, she was so close. She was still for a moment, until her pinky just barely ran over the center of my damp panties.
"Rhea." I sighed, looking over at her.
A smirk was painted on her lips as she looked ahead, pulling into our driveway, thank god.
"I want you in the house, up the stairs, and on the bed for me. Strip to your panties, beautiful." Rhea ordered softly before unlocking the car. I opened the door with a quick 'Yes Mami' before practically running into the house. I got up the stairs, and discarded from my dress and bra, and got on the bed like she requested.
I waited for only a few minutes, before she walked through the door in a pair of heels, fishnets and the lingerie I had put in the bottom of the basket. My jaw dropped as I took her in. How the hell did she get in that so fast?
"What, see somethin' you like?" Rhea teased as she put her hand on her hip. All I could do was nod as I brought my bottom lip between my teeth.
She slowly walked towards me, heels clicking across the floor as she inched closer. As she got next to the nightstand, she lit the skinny pink candle that was sitting there. It softly lit the room, and it smelled like roses.
"So pretty all spread out for me, baby." Rhea whispered as she stood next to me now, her hand reaching to softly pinch at one of my nipples.
I let my head fall back against the pillows with a soft sigh of her name.
"Fuck, Rhea." I whined as she tugged on it, eyebrows furrowing. Rhea let out a deep chuckle as she switched to my other nipple, pinching it roughly this time. My mouth fell open with a gasp as I opened my eyes to look at her. Her eyes were already fixed on me, taking in my features and every expression on my face.
Fuck.
"I bet your pussy is so wet for me already, isn't it baby?" Rhea husked as she gently trailed her hand down my torso, tickling my skin. All I could do was nod in response, which earned a smack against my clothed pussy. "Words, Y/n."
"Yes, Mami." I breathed out, my thighs trying to close against her hand before they were pushed back open. Rhea's middle finger pressed against my clit over my panties, which caused a soft moan to escape my lips as my eyes fluttered closed.
"So easy." She whispered. I went to speak, but when her finger began to rub in circles every thought quickly disappeared from my brain.
My body relaxed, and my legs spread wider.
"There's my girl." Rhea whispered beneath my ear as she left a soft kiss there.
"I can practically feel how drenched you are through your panties, sweet girl. This all for me?" She taunted in a high voice.
"Yes," I moaned.
"Good girl." She smiled.
Rhea's hands grabbed at my waistband as she slowly pulled them down, whispering a quiet 'fuck' as she saw my wetness glisten in the dim light of the candle and the street lights peeking from the window. As she slid my panties off, Rhea placed my legs over her shoulders as she pressed a soft kiss to my ankle, and began to slowly trail kisses up my leg until she was on her stomach between my thighs.
Usually, she'd tease me here, but this time she placed a kiss on my clit, and used her thumbs to spread my folds to get a better look.
"You're so fucking beautiful, baby. So fuckin' wet for me." Rhea said, with a low moan vibrating from the back of her throat as she sucked my clit between her lips.
"Fuck!" I squealed, arching my back off of the bed.
Rhea's tongue gently drew circles on my bud, using her tongue piercing to hit spots that made my brain go fuzzy.
"Mami," I whined as I squeezed my eyes shut. Soft whines and whimpers continued to leave my lips as she played with my clit, going between flicking her tongue against it and sucking on it.
"Such a noisy girl for me, aren't you?" Rhea pulled her head away to tease, her thumb replacing her tongue. She applied just the right amount of pressure as she quickly circled the sensitive nerves.
"I'm gonna cum, Mami." I warned as I felt my stomach tighten. Just then, Rhea slipped her middle and ring fingers inside of me, curling them into my sweet spot as she put her mouth back on my clit.
"Rhea!" I moaned, my head falling back as my thighs tightened around her head. She quickened her fingers, and it was only mere seconds before I felt my orgasm crash over me. Rhea helped me ride it out, switching to soft licks and slow curls of her fingers.
"You did so good for me, beautiful. I'll never get over the way you taste." Rhea said agaisnt my lips once she pulled her fingers out of me, kissing me deeply.
The kiss got heated quickly as her hips started to grind against mine, and when I moaned into her mouth she pulled back.
"I need to feel you against me, baby." I whispered.
Rhea's eyes widened slightly before they grew darker, and she smirked as she started pulling the straps off her shoulders.
"Yeah?" She said breathlessly, as she discarded her clothing. She spread my thighs again, and placed one of her legs over top of mine.
Placing herself against my core, we both let out a moan as she thrusted forward, our clits rubbing together perfectly.
"Oh fuck." She sighed, tossing her head back. She did it again, harder this time.
"You feel so good." I moaned, closing my eyes until I felt something hot against my skin. I gasped as my eyes shot open, and then I moaned louder once I noticed she had dripped some of the wax from the candle just below my breasts. This wasn't new to us, but it always surprised me.
"I could fuck your pretty pussy like this all damn time, you know that?" Rhea husked as she sped up, chasing her own high. I whined her name, hips bucking to meet hers as she continued to drip the pink wax onto my skin. I smiled when I looked down, seeing that she was drawing a heart with the wax.
She put the candle back a few moments later, interlacing her fingers with mine as she stared into my eyes. The combination of the eye contact, and her clit rubbing against mine made my stomach tighten again.
"Mami," I breathed out, eyes struggling to stay open.
"Happy Valentines day, beautiful."
"Wait for me baby, let me cum with you. You can hold it for me, can't you?" She said out of breath. Who could say no to that? I nodded, bucking my hips to meet hers. Rhea moaned, speeding her hips up. "You feel so good against me, angel." She said in a breathy moan.
With one final thrust, Rhea came with a quiet whine. My orgasm came right after hers, and she continued to grind her hips, helping us both ride them out. Once we both finally calmed down, she got off of me and rolled to lay next to me, kissing my cheeks.
490 notes · View notes
cheollipop · 5 months
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☂˚.⋆。 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙥𝙞𝙚𝙨
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navi | taglist | part of svthub's fall-ing collab
pairing: lee seokmin x afab!reader
w.c.: 5.0k
genre: smut, fluff, established relationship, apple picking and pie baking and some sweet lovemaking <3
a lovers’ retreat—golden rays cast shadows over high, blushing cheekbones, flour-kissed noses and eye smiles as warm as the oven’s embrace, secrets and tender kisses shared with the starry night, and in a wooden cabin fragrant with the aroma of cinnamon and caramel, the love shared was sweeter than the finest apple pie.
☂ warnings: food/eating mentioned, unprotected sex (👎), creampie, praise, edging, some begging, some cockwarming, overstimulation (m), multiple orgasms (f), nicknames (min; baby, babe, love), some aftercare, seokmin is so fucking whipped (so is reader), there's so much love talk in this, I hate myself.
☂ A/N: nobody come for my inconsistent pie recipe, I didn't use one (also idc if you don't knead the dough, i needed it to describe seokmin's bulging muscles tyvm). other than that, this fic means a lot to me and despite struggling for the most part, I really enjoyed writing it. happy reading! :]
nsfw under the cut—minors dni 🔞
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Slender fingers rounded the hanging fruit, examining for imperfections with eager eyes and the tip of a tongue held between pearly whites. The crisp air contrasted the solacing warmth of the morning sun under which you basked, strolling between green leaves and bright reds with a near-empty basket dangling at your side. You wanted him to work faster, to disregard whatever negligible bumps lay on the apples’ exterior, but you opted to remain silent, simply watching him from the sidelines while he carried on with his meticulous inspections.
Seokmin was spring. Smiles that could bring a barren land to life, vivid flora and singing birds fluttering around within the glimmers decorating his irises. But spring had long since ended, now treading deeper into the cooling weather of autumn, and yet, Seokmin still offered verve to everything he touched. Even as green turned to yellow then amber, and tanned skin rested beneath thick layers of cashmere and fleece, he still wore his spring smile—a reminder that the season of life will come again. He carried warmth wherever he went, and the biting chill attempting to penetrate thick layers of clothing stood no chance while his towering figure remained by your side.
You watched him throw the fallen end of his scarf over his shoulder, a woven cream he’d worn on your first date. Hoary yarn ends peeked out along its length, and you reminisced the store tag he’d forgotten to remove while he fiddled with his fingers and laughed anxiously before you all those years ago, so young and eager to impress. You’d mused over the giggles shaking his tense shoulders, the pretty pink painting his face and ears when you failed to rip it off in a discreet manner, and though the embarrassment was debilitating in the moment, the worry weighing down on Seokmin’s shoulders faded away as you laughed. It was well into winter when you’d walked alongside the river, steaming cups of hot chocolate resting between your palms—going cold before you had the chance to sip on them, only there to fight off the bleak midwinter breeze numbing your appendages. Young and dumb, you both were, walking by the river on a chilly day, but young and dumb brought upon you years of easy smiles and hearty laughs, unconditional love and unending happiness, all sprouting from sharing arbitrary details about yourselves with that same cream scarf draped around you both.
Dark locks now dyed the colour of changing leaves, the morning rays casting their golden hue over the wavy strands and reflecting off the specs perched over his nose bridge. Seokmin was a few inches taller now, and his shoulders broader, but the smile he wore, the sparkle in his eyes as he laid them on you were no different than those from that day by the river.
Chatter at your side dragged your attention off Seokmin’s profile and onto the family walking past you—two curious children and their parents inspecting the ripe fruit hanging before them. Scripts of late-night conversations you’d had with Seokmin flooded your mind, your face flushing and butterflies swarming your lower belly at the thought of starting a family with the man. Seokmin's fascination with learning how to braid your hair, his whispered comment—’for the future’—did not go unnoticed as he brushed gentle fingers through the stands he’d tangled in his attempts, a hint of a promise in his tone. He also promised to never leave them alone with Hoshi, which you appreciated. For obvious reasons. You were still young, and had much to experience together before taking a step that significant, but part of you was ready to offer Seokmin the world. A man who’d brought nothing bliss and warmth into your life, how could you not?
Turning your head back to the man in question, your eyebrows raised as you watched him eying the passing family alongside you, and you wondered whether the same thoughts were running through his head as well. But then his attention shifted back to you, and the amiable smile while he took you in told you everything you needed to know.
The curve of his lips persisted as he reached a hand to push the stray strands blown by the chilling breeze off your face, pinching the fat of your cheeks between his pointer and thumb before dropping them back to his side. A gentle gesture, but it lit your insides on fire, blinking quickly as you processed an action so natural to him, yet one that set you ablaze. Swallowing nervously, you redirected your gaze to the three apples resting over Seokmin’s palms as he presented the flawless, shiny Honeycrisps with a proud grin.
You giggled, “those look great, Min.”
“Only the best for you,” he leaned forward to plant a kiss onto the cheek he’d just pinched.
Flustered, you watched him throw the apples into the basket you held, his fingers brushing against yours as he swiftly pulled it out of your hand and carried on walking through the orchard. You might have missed a few additions to the small pile while you pondered about a lifetime by Seokmin’s side, and yes, the basket was significantly more weighed down now that he did. But it wasn’t that heavy.
You skipped a few steps to catch up with him, your bottom lip jutting out in protest. “Min. I can carry it myself.”
“Mm, I know,” he hummed, eyes trained on the novel batch of apples swinging gently at his eye level. “Don’t want you to, though.”
You pushed away the fondness warming your chest, capturing his coat’s sleeve between two fingers as you sulked at his side, his attention still set on those damn apples. He moved the basket to his other hand absentmindedly, allowing you more space to come closer to his side, his free arm wrapping around your waist, and head twisting to look over your moping features with tender adoration gracing his own. Leaning down, he pressed soft lips to your forehead, their warmth seeping into your skin and fluttering your eyelids shut.
Placing another one at your temple, playfulness mingled in his tone as he spoke, “Stop complaining, you’re not getting it back.”
And this time, all you could do was laugh.
The hours hurried by while Seokmin’s endless chatter kept you company, and perhaps you wish it hadn’t, wanting to treasure each passing second you shared in the presence of the man with the unwavering smile. You walked between the endless trees with leisure steps, the fingers entangled with yours occasionally dragging you with them to inspect the gradient of red and green. Some apples made the cut, thrown into the pile of spotless fruit he’d gathered over the past few hours, while others remained swaying with the gentle breeze, bruised exterior reflecting the golden rays.
A particular shade of green caught Seokmin’s eye, leaving your hand behind at your side to wrap slender fingers around the glossy circumference, rotating it gently to inspect it, going as far as leaning forward to get a closer look. Nodding to himself, he snapped its stem off and placed the weighted basket down, wrapping the apple in his cream scarf to give it a good wipe. You felt yourself salivate at the satisfying crunch sounding as Seokmin’s teeth breached the unblemished skin, and you watched the pucker of his lips as he chewed with wide, expecting eyes. A breathy chuckle contained within tightly pursed lips echoed in the back of his throat upon viewing the anticipation etched into your expression, and he moved the unbitten side towards your already-parted lips. Too focused on the apple nearing your waiting mouth, you’d missed the sly smile, the giggle he’d nearly failed at suppressing, and bit into the polished green.
A stream of its juice slipped past to flow down your chin, bitterness overwhelming your tastebuds and forcing your eyes firmly shut. A shiver ran down your spine as you struggled to chew on the unripe fruit, tears prickling in your eyes as you willed them open to glare at the man before you, hints of guilt mixed in with amusement on his face. Underneath all the kind smiles and caring gestures, Seokmin loved being an asshole.
He’d watched you persist and push through finishing the bite, too many people around now to spit it out. He even leaned forward to kiss away the tangy juice cooling over your skin, scrunching his nose at the sourness he’d willingly stolen another taste of. At least he was aware enough to take a step back once you’d swallowed the unpleasant bite down, what you thought was fear flashing across his features.
“Hey,” he put his hand up in defence before you could speak, “we share everything, right?” He took another step backward while giggling anxiously, and he nearly tripped over the apple-full basket he had resting over the soft grass. “Why should I make an exception for fruit?”
“Bad fruit,” you corrected, an eyebrow raised.
“Babe,” he started, but didn’t know how to continue, perhaps hoping the sparkling brown of his irises would do the trick.
And it almost did, you admit. But the bitterness lingered over your tongue, and Seokmin found himself scurrying away and out of the fire zone of the incoming apples you’d launched at him, laughing while you entertained the couples and children harvesting their own fruit with your lively act of revenge.
--
You smoothed your hands down the fresh set of clothes you’d thrown on, the fleece warm against your skin. The ligneous scent of your rented cabin added to its coziness, gentle winds blowing against closed windows and floorboards creaking with every socked footstep guiding you to the small kitchen.
Said footsteps quickened upon spotting bright green reflecting off the sharp metal of the very large knife in Seokmin’s hand, eyebrows furrowed as he focused on dividing the apple into even crescents. The hurried shuffling drew his attention, twisting his head just as you reached for the sharp tool, gently untangling his fingers off its handle to set it down over the cutting board alongside the botched fruit.
“Baby?” Tilting his head to the side, he stared at you in confusion.
You held both his hands in yours, flat over your palms as you inspected the tanned skin. Running your thumbs over polished nailbeds, you followed the protruding veins lining his slender fingers, all the way down each knuckle until you’d made sure he was unharmed. You enclosed his fingers within your palm, bringing them up to press your lips against, finding his pointer to plant an especially tender kiss over the scar stretching across its side.
“I was being careful,” he spoke through a melodramatic pout.
You smiled. “I know you were, Min. But let me handle the chopping this time, okay?”
Averting his eyes to the side, pretending to focus on the yellowing trees past the windowpane, Seokmin nodded, his hands limp in your hold. You lowered them to his side to cradle his jaw, tilting his head down to meet your eyes once again and staring him down in hopes of breaking his composure, but Seokmin’s pout persisted. And so the kisses began, soft and delicate over his cheekbones, forcing his eyes shut as you trailed your lips over the trembling skin. Leaning your head back, you watched his evident struggle against a betraying smile, finally curling the corners of his mouth when you’d dragged his head down with a forceful kiss to his cheek, the skin stretching under your lips while you kept them pressed there for a few more seconds. You moved away with an audible smack, Seokmin’s pout nowhere to be seen as he stared down at you with an uncontainable smile.
“Why don’t you make the dough instead?”
You picked up where Seokmin left off—half an apple chopped sloppily, which you ended up munching on while you worked—going through the washed apples to pick out the greenest, cutting them into even pieces and throwing them in a bowl of cinnamon and sugar. You remembered the nutmeg later on, after the frustrated noise at your side caught your attention, confusion raising your eyebrow when you’d noticed the powdery dough Seokmin was working with. He’d forgotten the eggs.  The embarrassment on his face was adorable, rose-tinted cheeks and restrained smile while watching you crack an egg into the crumbly mess he’d been working on for a shameful amount of time. A quick kiss to his jaw and a whispered ‘it’s okay, Min’ seemed to do the trick, though.
Tossing the last of the apples into the seasoning bowl, you sprinkled nutmeg over the shimmering crescents before grabbing a clean spoon from the dishrack, the spices’ aroma wafting in the air around you as you mixed them in with the fruit. Glancing over at Seokmin, you realised he’d begun kneading the dough, flour dusted over the marble counter as he rolled the raw crust in on itself, and as you took in the hard muscle bulging against the sleeve of his t-shirt, your fingers unconsciously loosened around the spoon you held. Your eyes wandered over flexing biceps and defined, broad shoulders, veins protruding from tan skin as he worked the dough under his palm. Bottom lip tucked between a set of pearly whites, his eyebrows furrowed occasionally while the ball gradually smoothened in his hands, growing less crumbly and eventually forming a near-perfect sphere.
Absentmindedly tumbling the apples with a limp grip around the spoon, you followed Seokmin’s movements, lower belly fluttering with every faint, airy grunt sounding in the back of his throat as he worked the dough.  Your thoughts strayed as you eyed the distracting flex of his muscles—the smile he wore, so sweet and tender, contrasted broad shoulders and the strength to manhandle you without much thought. You were almost certain Seokmin had no awareness of the fact, going about what he was doing without much regard to the blushing mess he’d left behind, the butterflies violently thrashing around within your stomach. The sparkling orbs with which he gazed at you, with charming innocence, oblivious to the effect he had on you. Perhaps that was for the best; you weren’t sure you’d want to find out what would become of him should he learn of the hidden power he’d been holding this entire time.
Sudden eye contact dragged you out of your daydreams when the man before you turned in your direction, the smooth doughball resting over his palm, and a proud smile on his lips. You held back the one threatening to break out on yours when you’d spotted the white dusting the pointy tip of his nose, some lightly powdering his cheeks as well. Instead, your chest warmed at his wordless flaunting as he slowly moved the undented dough towards you, sparkling eyes fishing for praise. And sure, you basically made the dough for him, and yes, all he did was mix the ingredients together with firm, hard-earned muscle, but the slight falter in his smile the longer you remained silent was enough to sway you.
“It looks great, Min!” You stepped closer, inspecting the roundness with wide eyes for a few seconds before straightening up to meet his eyes, “I’m proud of you, my love.”
Though a simple gesture, Seokmin’s face lit up, all but hurling the dough onto the counter to pull you into his arms, grinning into your shoulder while he squeezed your laughing frame closer to his chest. His arms still around you, he pulled away slightly, stars dancing in his eyes as he gazed at you gleefully, smiling against your lips as you got onto your tiptoes to kiss him lightly. But that didn’t satisfy Seokmin, his arm wrapping across your back to pull you back into him, locking his lips with yours once again, this time with hunger and hints of desire laced into the action. He kissed you once, twice, until he’d had a taste and realized he’d never have enough, needing sweetness and plush lips to forever bless his senses. While you held on to his biceps for balance, Seokmin was everywhere—hands up your back, over your arms and waist, and suddenly he was kissing you harder, deeper, tongue swiping across your bottom lip and teeth digging into it with a fervent want that sent waves of heat soaring through your body.
Pulling away for air, your chests heaved in unison, flush against one another as Seokmin peered down at you with hooded eyes, a spark of lust igniting the dark irises. And suddenly you were back in the present, the forgotten apples browning in their bowl, and the dough witnessing the heated exchange from its place on the counter.
“T-the pie!” you quickly diverted, pushing Seokmin away to shift your focus back to the task at hand, but you could feel his eyes boring into the back of your skull. “Can you preheat the oven please?”
An amused laugh sounded behind you at the shakiness of your voice, “yes, boss.” Just as you were about to sigh in relief, you heard him take a step towards you, his chest bumping into your shoulder and a gentle whisper blowing against the shell of your ear. “You have flour all over your face, by the way.”
And your pants, you thought, as his palm landed a playful slap onto your ass before he made his way to the other side of the kitchen.
The heat coursing through you dwindled as you fixated on the unfinished pie, save for those resulting from the not-so-hidden glances you’d stolen of Seokmin’s defined biceps as he moved the rolling pin over the dough. It was smooth sailing after that, though, missing the heart eyes directed at you as you spooned the filling into the rolled-out crust, perfectly fitted into the baking mould. You attempted to control your expressions as Seokmin tried and failed to cut straight lines out of the leftover dough, begrudgingly allowing him to place the uneven lattice in a questionable pattern, the chipper smile stretching his lips while he worked more than enough to excuse an ugly pie.
Carrying the raw pie over his head like Simba, Seokmin made his way to the oven. You held the door open for him, eyes following the baking mould as he transferred it onto the rack, gasping when his finger met the scorching metal. He placed the pie down and pretended nothing happened, ignoring the forming mark on his knuckle as he swung the oven door shut. And despite the whining and attempts of reassurance, you dragged Seokmin to the sink and ran cold water over his hand, once again kissing his pout away while you stood with barely any space separating your bodies.
His free hand slid across the small of your back, his other leaving its place under the running water to shut it off, wiping the droplets over his sweats before holding onto your hip. Leaning down, he met your lips once more, then again, until short pecks deepened, and a sharp nose nuzzled into the side of yours as he pulled you further into his body.
You pulled away with a gasp, startling Seokmin away from your lips, “the sweet potatoes!”
The initial shock replaced by softening eyes and a breathy laugh, Seokmin squeezed your waist once before releasing you. He stood to the side while you wrapped foil around the sangria exterior, offering to put them in the oven for you, but backing down at the disapproving glare you threw at him. Perhaps Seokmin had unintentionally caused a case of Pavlovian conditioning, one you remained unaware of, because the very second his bottom lip jutted out, yours were pressing consoling kisses over its plushness. Sometimes it took a few tries, but that’s only because you enjoyed watching the man—broad shoulders and all—sulk and whine when he didn’t get his way, only to lighten up and grin once your lips met his. It’s unclear who the winner was in this game, both parties working with a motive and ending with a satisfying result. Peculiar, really.
You settled down on the creaky floorboards across from the oven, your back to Seokmin’s chest and his thighs on either side of yours. His arms rested comfortably around your waist, hands limp at your hips, occasionally squeezing at the clothed flesh. Watching the pie crust brown through the glass, you basked in the cosy aroma circulating the cabin, the heat emanating from Seokmin’s body gentler and more comforting than that caramelising the sugar drizzled over the wonky lattice. Delicate fingers smoothed down your hair, and a silky voice lulled you to a tranquil state of comfort, strong arms holding you within the aura of warmth until a sharp click sounded, with the nostalgic scent of cinnamon and caramel to guide you out of slumber’s enticing grip, and back to toothy smiles and a cordial embrace.
--
The night’s breeze was crisp against slick skin, the warmth encased within the confines of the thick blankets now infiltrated through a window forgotten open. Seokmin noticed the raised goosebumps over your arms, and lowered his body until your chests laid flush, his forearms on either side of your head keeping his weight off your form.
“Cold?” he asked, lips pressing against your jaw and up to your cheekbone, over the frosty tip of your nose.
You shook your head, “not anymore,” and wrapped your arms around the soft skin of his waist.
Seokmin smiled, gentle features illuminated by the moonlight peeking through the cracked-open blinds—a cool-toned hue casting shadows over his face, moving as he pressed his pelvis closer to yours with an exhaled moan. Moving his weight over to one arm, he slid the other down to your core, splaying his palm out over your lower belly to thumb at your clit.
He’d been teasing you for so long—his cock filling you up the way you wanted, but only barely teasing your g-spot, refusing to move despite your repetitive whines; instead, he occasionally reached two slender fingers between your legs to relieve some of the arousal burning underneath your skin. This time, though, you’d reached your limit, clenching around him as a sudden high rushed through you, shaking your body within his hold.
Despite a day’s worth of lingering touches and heated kisses, a hand placed a little too low on your back, and eyes lit with unconcealed glints of want, the patience Seokmin exhibited as he guided you through your orgasm was not surprising. He’d always enjoyed giving—curling his fingers just right to take in the elegant arch of your back, your sweet taste on his tongue while he nuzzled his nose into your soaked pussy. But most of all, Seokmin savoured the tight squeeze around his cock as he fucked you through an orgasm, his breath heavy and eyes lidded with the pleasure your walls lavished upon him.
Slowly fading back into the present, you peered up at the man atop you, the column of his throat stretched as he took in the violent fluttering of your walls. But you wanted more, pent up and restless with his scent, his warm touch, occupying your every sense. And he still won’t move.
You rolled your hips experimentally, a startled hand rushing to stop you, fingers digging into the flesh to stifle the motion. “Please,” you whined, “Min, please move.”
Groaning at your tone, cock throbbing between your walls, “oh baby,” he breathed out, bumping his forehead with yours and allowing his eyelids to fall shut. “I’ve been thinking about having you like this all day. I wanna last for you, my love, ‘wanna make you feel so good.”
Arousal boiled in your lower belly, eyelashes fluttering and a shaky breath escaping your parted lips at the words whispered in the air between you. “Min-”
“Let me be good for you.”
A kiss to your temple and a few inhales were all it took Seokmin to regain his composure, his forehead still pressed to yours as he tugged you closer by the hips, languidly rolling his own into your heat. The leisure glide wasn’t much, but it sent a shiver through your body. It was as though Seokmin could read the wordless pleads sparkling in your eyes, pulling his face away just enough to adjust the angle before settling back down onto your body. Fingers tangled in your hair to keep your eyes on his, blinking in unison while you breathed the same air, gentle waves of pleasure drawing breathy moans out of the both of you, his cockhead brushing against your sweet spot every time he drove it inside your cunt.
Sliding a hand over his sweat-coated nape, you dragged Seokmin down to your lips, the sweetness of a pie forgotten outside enriching your tastebuds, the single remaining piece left over the picnic blanket alongside crumbled foil—the unintentionally discarded dessert serving as breakfast for the blackbirds to nip at when the morning came.
The hand lost in your hair found its way to your jaw, cradling your face while he devoured you, the kiss growing deeper the farther Seokmin sunk down the blazing pit of lust growing within him. His cock twitched erratically within you, pace picking up until the echo of skin-on-skin danced between the four walls, hips slamming against yours with fervour as his eagerness finally won over him. Unable to focus on anything but the mind-numbing heaviness of his cock pounding into you, your lips parted to release a staccato of ah’s, his own relentless as they peppered wet, open-mouthed kisses all over your face.
“God, you’re perfect,” he grabbed your cheeks with the hand previously on your jaw, squishing them together to lay his lips onto the forced pout on yours, “all mine.”
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the repetitive abuse to your cunt, squelching obscenely every time Seokmin fucked his entire length inside. “All—hngh—all yours,” you repeated, exhaling a breath you’d been holding when sudden warmth spread through your abdomen.
“I—hah—‘m sorry,” he stuttered as his rhythm turned sloppy, shuddering when he finally came. Sheathing himself deep withing your heat, he fed ropes of translucent white into your womb while attempting to keep his eyes on you, long eyelashes fluttering while ecstasy flowed through his body.  “Felt so good, I couldn’t…” he paused to lower his head, interrupted by a string of airy moans as the last, weak spurts of cum emptied out of his twitching cock. “I couldn’t help it,” he muttered.
The reassurance died on your tongue when the sensitive cock drew out halfway, only to slam back into you as though the arms bracketing your head didn’t continue to tremble with the continuing effects of his orgasm. Lifting his head back up to meet your gaze, he lowered his hand back down to play with your cunt, dipping down to feel around your stretched hole and back up to circle your clit with the slick he’d collected, a silent promise of “I’ll be good” glimmering in his lidded eyes while he watched you fall apart under his touch.
And he was, so good.
You tumbled over the edge unexpectedly, cockhead pounding into your cunt while he rolled your clit underneath his fingertips until your features contorted gracefully, fireworks exploding behind your eyelids as you shut them and tilted your head back to welcome a stupefying orgasm. You tensed for a moment, then began spasming uncontrollably in his arms, hips simultaneously jerking towards and away from his touch as he guided you through your high, languidly gliding his cock along your dripping, clenching walls, both hands now gripping the soft flesh of your hips.
And when the stimulation sent pangs of pain up your body, a whispered repetition of his name paired with limp tugs at his wrist finally broke Seokmin away from you and the bewitching melody he drew out of the perfect circle shaping your mouth. He slid his softening cock out of your heat to allow thick dollops of pearly cum to stream out of your pussy, watching as your hole clenched uselessly until your abashed whine dragged him out of his thoughts.
You found yourself tucked in under layers of thick blankets while running water sounded in the bathroom, bare feet padding over the floorboards until Seokmin—with his boxers on backwards—reached under the covers to blindly drag a warm washcloth over your skin, hoping it would catch all the sweat and cum without having to expose you to the chill air. You drew your lips into a straight line to avoid laughing at the concentration furrowing his eyebrows, cheeks flushing as he washed your middle. Any other day, Seokmin would make a big deal of cleaning you up properly, but you could see the hair on his arms raising, the autumn night’s chill piercing through his skin.
He didn’t even bother with returning the rag to its place, tossing it over his shoulder to dive under the cosy blankets with you, limbs tangling as soon as he made it there—arms circling your tired frame and legs pushing between and over yours. The momentary frigidity dissipating, his body heat seeped into your very being, and you inhaled the fresh scent of laundry mixed in with remaining hints of his cologne. Nuzzling the pointy tip of his nose into your hair, he planted a kiss onto your crown, the gesture faint as his steady heartbeat lulled you to much-needed slumber, the serene trip to dreamland occupied with solacing thoughts about a forever home within Seokmin’s tender embrace.
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ventismacchiato · 1 year
Text
mr. oblivious
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The entire staff at the new school you work at consistently attempt at getting you and another rather aloof teacher, Kuni, together after witnessing you interact quite often. The catch is that you both are married, and none of the staff have figured it out, yet.
scaramouche x g!n reader
established relationship, married, modern teacher au
2.7k words
a/n: sorry if it clogs up ur feed 😭 everytime i do the keep reading thing it crashes for me so, transferred from ao3 so if there’s any weird typos lmk
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It took about three weeks at your new job for you to notice something was going on with your co-workers, and your students as well to top it off. It was as if they were all in on some inside joke you weren’t a part of, or perhaps the center of it. But that might just be your own insecurities about being the newest teacher at this school.
You had recently been laid off as a literature teacher after working at the same high school for a few years due to lack of budget to support the creative arts.
So, instead of educating high schoolers, you deemed it would be much better to teach a group of younger kids, much easier and stress free. After a couple of weeks you had gotten a job as the Art teacher at the very school your husband worked at thanks to his recommendation. Everyone there was very accepting of you and you felt right at home, for a while at least.
It was much different then being a literature professor for older kids, now you got to do finger painting for a living. And even though your English degree was collecting dust, (you shed a tear at this every night), you were actually enjoying your time teaching for once. Little children were much more bearable than high schoolers. There were no love triangles you had to deal with, kids giving handjobs under the desks, or getting paper planes thrown at you. The most drama that ever happened in your elementary classes was when Timmie wouldn’t share the red crayons with anyone.
Well, you were enjoying it. Past tense.
Ever since you ended up catching teachers and students halting their whispers when you walked by you’ve been rather uneasy.
You brought it up to Kuni during dinner one night and the other male merely shrugged, but that one was on you though. Kuni didn’t interact with any of his co-workers unless he absolutely had to. It was a surprise he was a favorite teacher among the students, unbeknownst to you it was because the children found the male handsome and his teaching style atrocious.
You were surprised to learn none of your co-workers had even held a coherent conversation with Kuni, despite him working there for much of his career. So when Venti, one of the school’s music teachers, let out a gasp at seeing Kuni sitting beside you in the staff room, he was taken aback. Kuni never went out of his way to make new friends, it seems he was content with the little to no socializing he did in college and called it a day.
“So, what’s your secret?” Venti sang, sidling up next to you as he poured himself a cup of coffee, “How’d you get the ever so stoic Kuni to talk to you for longer than a minute?”
“What are you on about?” you chuckled, taking a tentative sip of the hot beverage, you didn’t want to burn your tongue again, it had ruined your entire week last time, “I just talk?”
Venti and you quickly clicked upon your moving careers, there was something calming about the constant chitter chatter that left his mouth. Although, it was also a little annoying at times. Like right now.
“Last time I did that he just glared at me,” Venti dramatically sighed, “Maybe he has his eyes on you.”
“Ooh, are we talking about KuniYn?” Lisa grinned, the actual English teacher, walking into the staff room.
“What the hell is KuniYn?” you questioned, growing uncomfortable, why was everyone obsessing over you and Kuni? Was this their way of welcoming you?
“I’m going to exit this conversation now,” you mumbled, turning around when you bumped into the other half of said conversation.
And to your horror, a little splash of his coffee landed on the other male.
A collective gasp was heard from the staff room, preparing themselves for the ever so aloof male to lash out. Last time Bennett spilled his drink on Kuni the dark-haired male had the entire staff shaking in their seats.
“Careful,” Kuni mumbled, catching his arm on your shoulder to steady you before making his way past you to make himself a cup of coffee, not batting an eye as he grabbed a napkin and dabbed at it to lessen the soak.
“Fuck, sorry,” you immediately apologized, grabbing the napkin from Kuni and placing your mug down, “Do you want my jacket?”
“It’s fine,” Kuni assured, picking up your mug and handing it back to you before grabbing his own mug that was now full and leaving the room, but not before patting your waist fondly on his way out.
You made sure to pointedly ignore Venti and Lisa’s loud snickers as you hurriedly left the room.
______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
Everyone’s intentions became clear when you overheard your own students conversing about you. The utter betrayal.
You were running a little late to your class that afternoon after a lively student had spilled glitter on you earlier that morning, you spent a good five minutes scrubbing it off your hands in the staff bathroom before making your way back to class. You had left your classroom door ajar in a hurry to leave, which made it easy for you to eavesdrop on your students when you heard Kuni’s name spoken for the nth time that day.
“I saw them eating lunch in Sir Kuni’s room the other day when I went to get my backpack!” Luo insisted, a lollipop hanging halfway out of her mouth as the group that had gathered around her table eagerly nodded along to her story, “I think they like-like each other!”
“Like-like?” Qiqi drawled out, tapping her chin, “That’s very serious.“
“We should make them be a couple!” Klee giggled, clapping her hands, “Teacher Y/n is very nice! Mister Kuni is too strict for them but it’s okay.”
So this was what your coworkers were giggling about, they thought that you and Kuni were pining for each other. Which wasn’t necessarily untrue, but had Kuni really not mentioned being married even once?
Truth be told, you never wore your ring to school, you didn’t want any paint or glitter to get stuck between the diamonds and have to pay to get it cleaned, but did Kuni really leave his ring at home too? Seems even Mathematics teachers were prone to disasters via children.
“Alright, back to your respected tables, please,” you greeted as you made your way back into class, ignoring the exuberant glances the children gave you. “Valentines is coming up this week, how about we make little cards for your friends?”
“Or boyfriends,” Klee giggled behind her hands as the class shrieked in laughter. You merely patted her on the head and sighed. Today was going to be quite the long day.
______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
“—I say we send Y/n a Valentine in Kuni’s name, we all know he won’t do it himself!” Venti rebuked, pointing an accusatory finger at Hutao.
“Shouldn’t we give him the benefit of the doubt!” Hutao huffed in response, “They’re clearly into one another.”
“You got it all wrong, Y/n will make the first move and we should allow them to do so,” Xingqiu, the school’s librarian, drawled, tapping his finger on his chin. “I believe they will ask Kuni out on Valentine’s!”
“Are you guys chatting about me again?” you deadpanned, already backing out of the room, but your back ran into something, or rather someone.
“Clumsy as always,” Kuni murmured, placing a hand on your waist and gently pushing you out of the way, “What are you idiots looking at?” he questioned, glaring at Venti who was stifling a laugh.
“You never come in here, I should be interrogating you!” Xiangling defended, hands on her hips.
“Lunch,” Kuni dryly stated, reverting back to his one word answers, and handed a bag to you, “You said you were craving Chinese earlier.”
The familiar smell of fried rice wafted through the room as you peered inside the bag, “You remembered? Thank you.”
Kuni hummed, turning to leave the staff room and hermit himself in his classroom once again.
The moment he left all hell broke loose.
“SEE! I knew Kuni would make a move!”
“But it’s not Valentine’s yet! Y/n still has a chance!"
“We should just lock them up at this rate, this is getting frustrating.”
You clutched the bag tightly and walked out the room, ignoring the shouts questioning the nature of you and Kuni’s relationship that your coworkers shot behind you.
______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
“Kuni?” you called out, knocking on the door as you opened it, which took away the action’s purpose but you were impatient.
Said male looked up from where he was typing and gave you a glance before averting his eyes back, humming to show he was listening.
“Have you eaten yet?” you asked, shutting the door behind you as you pulled up one of the students’ chairs to sit beside Kuni, leaning back into it as Kuni gestured to his half finished take out box.
“Everyone thinks you and I have a crush on each other,” you blurted, leaning your chin on your palm as you watched Kuni work, watching how his nimble fingers came to a stop at your words.
“A crush?” Kuni repeated, turning to face you, “What? That’s childish.”
“They don’t know we’re married!” you huffed, “Did you not tell them? Where’s your ring?”
“It never came up,” Kuni mused, “Last time I wore my ring I took it off to help a teacher out and when I came back the brats were tossing it, so I started leaving it at home.”
“Oh, it seems they’ve never seen us with our rings,” you frowned, causing Kuni to spin on his chair to face you, an amused smile on his face.
“They just can’t believe I managed to make you mine,” Kuni shrugged, chuckling at the immediate shove you sent to his shoulder.
“Stop trying to be corny,” you smiled, reaching out to tug on his dress shirt and yank him closer.
Without a second of hesitation, your guys’ lips interlocked as if it were second nature. The familiarity behind Kuni’s every touch was still as refreshing as it was years ago when you both first met.
The moment was interrupted with a gasp from afar, and both of you pulled apart to see who had walked in on them, exhaling a sigh of relief to see it wasn’t one of the students. But perhaps this was worse.
Kazuha was staring with a flushed face before he realized he had come over for a specific reason and walked up to Kuni’s desk, dropping a file onto it which led Kuni to groan and sadly flip through it.
“So how long have you two been together?” Kazuha drawled, leaning forward as Kuni shot him a glare. Despite being one of the few people Kuni actually sort of talked to, it seems even Kazuha hadn’t known of their relationship status.
“Since graduating college, married now,” you answered, earning a smile from Kazuha as he nodded, turning to make his leave.
“I’m so winning this bet–”
“What bet? KAZUHA GET BACK HERE! WHAT BET?!”
______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
Valentine’s day had finally decided to make an appearance, and the school would not let it pass by without a proper send off. The hallways were adorned with pink ribbons and little drawings the kids made, along with the occasional love is love poster and rainbow flag. There were streamers hanging on every doorway, and you couldn’t count how many kids you had to help untangle themselves after getting stuck.
At least it looked pretty.
“I tried to get them to sing Bad Romance, can you believe they’ve never heard of it?”
“Venti, they are children,” Kazuha mused, shaking his head as he unwrapped one of the many chocolates they had lying around for Valentines.
“As their other music teacher you should add it into the curriculum,” Venti huffed, perking up as you entered the room, “There they are!”
“Me?” you repeated, about to take a seat next to them when Xingqiu pointed to the large basket of flowers sitting on the table, “Looks like someone has an admirer,” you added, peering into the basket.
“It arrived this morning, the card says it’s addressed to you? But there’s no sender,” Xingqiu mused.
“Coward,” Lisa reprimanded, “How will I get my daily dose of drama if I don’t know who it’s from?”
“I can infer,” you laughed, tugging on the card, “Probably my husband,” you thought aloud as you read the writing, a smile growing on your face. You were so absorbed in the note that you didn’t notice the staff room grow quiet.
“Hold up, you’re married?!” Venti shrieked, getting up from his seat, “No way.”
“Is that unbelievable?” you frowned, holding up your left hand, “Been married for six years now.”
“Oh my god, we’ve been trying to set you up this entire time!” Xiangling cried out, covering her mouth, “This is so embarrassing! I didn’t know you had someone at home!”
“I’m surprised you guys didn’t know,” you sheepishly laughed, twirling one of the flowers from the basket between your fingers, “You guys have met him before.”
Kazuha snickered behind his chocolate bar as the other staff looked at him.
“So THAT’s why you made a bet saying Y/n married to someone, I thought you just had a gambling addiction,” Xiangling scoffed, hitting Kazuha on the shoulder as he cackled.
“Pay up,” Kazuha grinned as you shook your head.
“Can’t believe you all made a bet and tried to set me up,” you mumbled.
“Yikes, I told Kuni I would get him a date tonight with you offhandedly,” Lisa admitted, looking ashamed as the door to the staff door opened.
Kuni stepped in, but instead of letting him pass by unnoticed as usual you tugged on his sleeve, shooting him a soft smile.
“Thank you for the basket, Kuni,” you thanked, caressing the other male’s arm to show your affection. Neither of you were big on pda, it was a lot for you both to even hug in public. Mostly due to Kuni’s awkwardness with it, but he made up for it by showing affection behind closed doors.
Kuni merely hummed, awkwardly shuffling his feet, you felt a little bad about putting him on the spot but you wanted to show off your husband for once!
“Pause,” Venti stated, pointing between the two of them, “No fucking way.”
“I just lost so much money,” Lisa groaned, sucking her teeth and already pulling out her wallet as Kazuha gleefully counted his bills.
“I’m still processing,” Xingqiu murmured, staring between the two of them, “What, when, and where?”
“I don’t know what you mean by what, we started dating in senior year of highschool, and got married in the town Kuni grew up,” you answered, firmly grasping Kuni’s arm so as to not let him escape. He was already trying to run off.
“I owe Kazuha money?” Albedo questioned as he overheard the conversation walking into the staff room, “No way was his hypothesis correct.”
“Suck my dick,” Kazuha grinned, opening his palm as Albedo sighed and slapped a twenty on it, rolling his eyes as the other male gloated.
“You guys are so fucking annoying,” Kuni complained, but his threat didn’t look at all intimidating as you was pinching his cheek, “Do you really have nothing else to do then try to set me up? No wonder the education system is shit.”
“I’m surprised you even managed to score someone,” Venti giggled, dodging the box of candy Kuni picked up and tossed at him.
“I still have more game than all of you, where’s your partner?” Kuni countered.
“The audacity,” Albedo murmured as Venti huffed in response, the staff room bursting into laughter.
“Guess we need a new project,” Venti grieved, scanning the room till his eyes landed upon Kazuha, “I guess I’ll set you up with someone.”
“You’re gonna what?!” Kazuha exclaimed, his face aghast as the staff immediately started listing off potential candidates
You laughed as you watched Kazuha practically run away from Venti, who was interrogating him on which teachers he found the most attractive.
Your new co-workers were a bit crazy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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2K notes · View notes
lale-txt · 1 year
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what gets their heart pounding... ♡ [partly ns.fw] ↳ w/ Kid, Killer, Law, Mihawk, Shanks, Benn
a/n: look who is clearing out her drafts again while working on a longer fic! i love writing little headcanons, they help me get into a nice writing flow and are just super fun to think about. those here are both fluff and spicy, so be aware. reader is gn!
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Kid
seeing you walk around in his shirt when it’s laundry day on the Victoria Punk
the warmth of his hand in yours when you paint his nails for him after he lost his arm, unfazed by his bickering when you’re doing a messy job 
you keeping him company in his workshop when everyone else already went to sleep, studying blueprints while he tries to focus on the thing he’s working on but failing miserably in your presence
the way you look at him when he tilts your chin up, his thumb brushing your lips 
how hungry you kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips after his cheeky tongue wracked your whole body with pleasure 
the shiny red shapes of his hand on your ass cheek and your needy mewls for more
whispered confessions with every thrust, your hands cradling his face as he fucks you through your orgasm, melting in lust and adoration
Killer
hearing you humming in the kitchen, cooking a surprise meal for him 
your fingers untangling his hair at night, gently combing out every knot without hurting him 
your laughter when he tries to put on the polka dot shirt that got way too small
the way your gaze softens when he takes off his mask for the first time in front of you 
your lips parting so willingly for him when he leans down to kiss you in a moment of bravery
his lipstick smeared on the inside of your thighs, leading dangerously close to your aching core
the way you twitch around him as you ride him, eyes closed as you chase your high, his fingers digging in the flesh of your thighs
Law
your hands brushing when you hand him a cup of coffee in the morning, knowing he was up all night again 
you falling asleep on the couch when you both study in the library together, admiring how you let down your guard around him
hearing you mumble out his name in your sleep
patching you up after a battle where you fought back to back, just blind trust into each other
thinking back about the heated kiss you two shared when you thought it all was over and you wouldn’t see tomorrow
you straddling him in his chair, asking for permission to do it again in the safety of his arms and realizing those are the lips he wants to kiss for the rest of his life
seeing those lips wrap around his length for the first time, holding hands while you make him see stars and a future so bright in the absence of fear
Mihawk
the faint smell of your perfume when he enters a room you’ve been in before
watching your hands rolling out dough in the kitchen, covered in flour, a vinyl playing in the background, veggies from the garden on the counter
how you handle the knife, not for fighting but for creating something beautiful and heartwarming from scratch with patience and compassion, something he admires deeply
the way your eyes linger on him in a room full of people, making him feel like it’s just the two of you
stolen kisses after glancing at his lips for too long, tasting his wine on them
your delicate wrists in his grip when he pins you down on them above your head, legs spread wide open for him
the way you sigh his name when he enters you in one go, a big smile on your face, your eyes so full of love and lust
Shanks
standing outside the bar and hearing your voice from from the inside as you chat and laugh with his crewmates, Benn nudging him a little with a look
how you yawn and mumble out a ‘good morning’ on your way to the bathroom, in your underwear and sleepdrunk, because you spent all night visiting him in his dreams
the way you tilt your head and smirk when he takes the bottle of wine from your pretty hands and takes a sip, lips touching where yours have been seconds before
you shutting him up with a kiss when he teases you for too long, your hand in a tight grip around his collar
the same hand pulling his hair when he pushes you against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist, rubbing his clothed cock against your core
feeling how soaked your panties are when he reaches to pull them aside, your needy mewls soon to be muffled with them
Benn
the way you cup his hand to help him light his cigarette, your faces awfully close
how you muster him up and down and your cocky smile when he asks if you like what you see
standing side by side outside and watching the rain fall while the rest of the crew is having a banquet inside, just a quiet moment between you two 
you reaching for his half-smoked cigarette, pleading eyes asking for a kiss 
the same eyes looking at him through long lashes when he unbuckles his belt 
your shaking legs on his shoulders as he makes you count out loud the times he makes you cum with his fingers alone
your broken voice begging him to fill you up, legs wrapped around his waist to keep him from pulling out, nails leaving red trails on his back
4K notes · View notes
keeksandgigz · 3 months
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the witch hunt
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eddie munson x witch!reader
part 2 of "the love witch"
Summary: You've been good about keeping your magic a secret from Eddie, much to your dismay, so diligent on hiding your true self. What happens when you leave your potion cabinet unattended, he drinks one of your concoctions and turns himself into stone, leaving you to turn him back, right in front of his eyes?
CW: 5k words, no y/n, reader's nickname is 'witchy' , talk of the occult, wiccan practices, description of r's clothing, but no body description, eddie turns to stone, angsty angst angst but with a happy ending, witchy casts some serious spells in this one, mentions of witchy being depressed, eddie being a lovesick fool
thank u to my lovely @reidsbtch for beta reading I love u I love u I love u
Read part 1 here, Witchyverse masterpost here
feedback is always appreciated!
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You've been good. You've been diligent. You've been following the rules of the coven.
To not share the gift with anyone, a secret kept under oath, hand over the binding of an old spell book, its surface course and rough, centuries of hands- young, old, powerful and weak, all part of the history of how that book came to be.
When you started dating Eddie, you were summoned, warned by your coven to keep the magic away from your human boyfriend, hidden under a veil of thin shame disguised as indifference.
And six months went by, then a year. You thought you were safe, you thought you'd gotten through the worst part of keeping the secret.
You deluded yourself. He loves you so much, there's no reason he would leave you, not even for a secret as big as yours. You've put protection spells around everything that involved actual magic in your house, the potion cabinet you kept in the hallways as decoration, the spell books hidden under a floorboard in your room.
Although he could not feel it, your apartment pulsated with raw magical energy in its purest form. You really thought you were safe.
A rainy November afternoon, you're tasked to bring some ingredients you've had stashed at your apartment to your aunt Hilda's house, a delivery from Janice- ingredients from Bulgaria, after your shift.
What surprises you about your aunt Hilda is that despite being a witch, she does not go unnoticed- living in one of the Painted Ladies house in the heart of San Francisco, all by herself and her cat, Arsenio.
She always invites you in for tea and a reading, so you step into her house, smelling of antique parchment, tea leaves and a mystical smell of pungent resin and wood, much different from your incense and dried flowers smell.
"I need to invite Janice over one of these days" she says in her veiled voice, pouring you a cup of jasmine tea.
"I don't know if she's going to be able to get out of Haight Ashbury, Aunt Hilda. She's like two- hundred years old or something" you laugh, rummaging through your bag for the delivery you visited your aunt for, placing the jars on the table.
She gasps in delight "You can't get those plants anywhere else, she must have paid a fortune for that blood from a vampire's fangs" she squeals, running to her cabinet to find a home for her new deliveries.
"How's your human, dear?" she asks from the kitchen, followed by clattering of glass and metal.
"Oh, Eddie's fine, he should be off work soon, maybe we'll do something after" you shrug, petting her cat, Arsenio, on your lap.
"And his handsome hunk of an uncle?" you roll your eyes at that.
"God, Aunt Hilda, gross" you groan, sinking in your seat.
"Let me know when he's back in town, I need to invite them both over one of these days, it might be nice. Shall we do a reading before I leave?" she sits back down at the small table and takes a sip of her tea, tarot cards in hand.
"Yeah, I'll ask him for his schedule" you finish your tea "Let me do a one card pull, I need to get home"
"You know, dear, you've been awfully nervous lately- so jumpy" She says, as she shuffles the laminated cards for what feels like forever,
"I'm okay, Aunt Hilda, just stressed with work" you lie, exhaling with anticipation as her wrinkled hand holds the deck. Your aunt's readings have always made you nervous.
You'd been jumpy for a while, the thought of Eddie finding out had been making you nervous, but you wouldn't dare to tell your aunt that.
She offers the deck to you, you pick a card and then give it to her. A gasp escapes her upon looking at it.
A panic rises through your body "What? What is it?" you ask, your bag already across your shoulder, holding on to its strap.
"The Tower" she mutters, destruction, unexpected change, awakening.
A shiver runs down your spine, one by one your vertebrae straighten "I just had a really bad feeling, dear. I would check in on your human boy" she places a hand on her temple, heart racing as you bolt out of your seat and leave.
On the train, panic settles in, wondering if Eddie was somehow connected to this.
A call startles you. It's him.
You tremble when nearing the phone to your ear.
"Hey, witchy, I'm at your house- I used the spare key. I just called 'cause I had a question" he says, voice dubious and vague.
"What is it, Ed? I'm on my way home"
"I was just wondering if it's normal that the cabinet in your hallway is open? I had to stop Circe from getting into it a couple times" you hear a meowing in the background, he must be holding her.
"What cabinet?" you feel your chest rise and fall at an incredibly fast pace.
"The one with the wilted flowers on them, it has a bunch of bottles. Are- are these fake potions?" There's an amused lilt in his voice, almost as if he's laughing at you. Fuck. The potion cabinet.
"Eddie don't touch anything, I'm literally here" your alarmed tone freaks him out, but he has no time to say anything as you hang up and enter your apartment building.
You run up the stairs, heart in your throat, as you reach your front door and slam it open. Eddie's head swings violently.
"Hey, witchy, what's wrong?" he stands up from the cabinet, holding Circe on one arm. You're heaving, irregular breaths, as you see he's still standing, alive, and breathing.
You close the door. "You didn't touch anything in there, did you?" you run towards the open cabinet, checking for missing bottles.
"Witchy, honey, I don't get why you're so jumpy about a couple of fake potions, they would actually be really useful for DnD" Eddie chuckles, reaching into the cabinet to grab a bottle, observing it up close. A greyish- blue liquid swirls inside the bottle.
"Eddie! Put it back! It's dangerous!" you exclaim as you reach for the bottle, but he's blocking you.
"Baby, I think you might be getting a little too carried away with this witchy stuff. There's no way you should be reacting like this over some water and dye" he swirls the bottle once again "I'll even drink it, show you it's not actually that dangerous"
A smug smile adorns his lips, as you watch helplessly while he uncorks the small vial and downs its content. 
“EDDIE NO” You aren’t even sure what it is, which makes a panic set into your stomach, hoping you could reverse whatever he ingested.
“No, no, no, no, what have you done?” your head encapsulated in your hands, feeling the beady sweat on your hairline, falling to your knees with the realization. You’re going to have to tell him.
“See? Not dangerous, baby. I love you, but you need to do something about this obsession, it’s getting out of hand” he sighs “I’m hungry i’m gonna get some food” but before he can even take a step, the rumbling of stone fills the room. 
You grab the empty glass vial and examine its label. Shit. He turned himself to stone.
In a panic, he looks at you. 
“Witchy, what’s going on?” his eyes dart from you to his frozen legs, the stone spreading itself upward quickly “Witch-what- is that stone?” He goes still after that.
A statue. His cold, grey eyes staring up at you in a panic. 
Tears brimming your eyes at the sudden realization that once you turn him back to normal he’s going to know. 
His hands feel cold at the touch as you cling on to your boyfriend’s statued form. Mouth agape, eyebrows pinched in fear, it hurt you to see him like this. You were going to lose it all because of a dumb mistake.
A desperate scream bubbles inside your chest as you hold yourself flush against Eddie’s cold surface, wishing his arms could hug you back, having to come to terms with the fact that this is probably the last time you’ll ever see him in your home. You won’t ever get to hold him again.
Weak and teary- eyed you reach for your phone, wiping under your eyes as you try to stabilize yourself. 
“Hello, dear?” aunt Hilda says through the phone. 
“Aunt Hilda I made a really terrible mistake” you sob, shoulders shaking with the violence of your hiccups. 
“What’s wrong? What happened?” the concern is palpable through her voice. 
“I left- left my potion cabinet open and Eddie-” another string of violent sobs follow, rumbled deep in your chest, shaking you to your very core. 
“What happened to Eddie?” The question is cautious, though unfortunately you could feel the alarm and sternness in her voice.
“He turned to stone” you sigh, exasperated, letting yourself sink into the sofa. 
“Stone? How did a human man turn to stone?” ever the help, your aunt exclaims. 
A dramatic exhale you feel like you’ve been holding onto “I left my potion cabinet open and he- and he has a spare key” you sob- all your fault for letting your guard down, all your fault for letting yourself care for him so mindlessly. 
“He got into it thinking they were all fake, I tried to- to stop him” a siffle stops you “he was trying to be funny” a string of sobs followed, unable to speak any longer. 
“You need to pull yourself together,” Hilda says, amidst your inconsolable sobs “you know how to reverse this” her voice is stern, yet shaky, she feels for you, having to let your love go. 
“The mirror” you mumble. 
“That’s right, get a mirror- circle of reflection, circle of protection” she reminds you “repeat those words, he’ll be okay, dear” you can tell that she is hurting, breaking the law of your coven, making you face consequences you haven't even thought of.  
Would you be losing your power? Would you have to move away from him? In hindsight that would be a blessing, as you doubt he would want to stay, now that your secret is uncovered. 
Hilda hangs up the phone as you scramble to get a mirror, and smear salt over his heart. Trying to reverse the spell that might have broken it. 
The mirror faces your boyfriend, his features grey and scared- the last time you’ll ever see him in this lifetime.
Circle of reflection, circle of protection
Circle of reflection, circle of protection
Circle of reflection, circle of protection
The hand that is not holding the mirror is clutched on tightly to his chest, as you keep repeating the words. 
The sound of rubble breaking makes your heart wrench, selfishly wanting him to stay a statue for a little longer, so you won’t have to say goodbye to him just yet, but the stone armor sheds, and his eyes are brown instead of dull and grey, and his arms move, as well as his mouth, closing in itself, breathing as if he’s come to life for the first time. 
He rubs his eyes first, drowsy, like waking up from a one- hundred year old slumber. He looks around the room, it’s familiar to him, the smell of incense that was there, and then it wasn’t, blocked by the earthy smell of rubble and earth. 
“What happened?” he mumbles, shaking his stiff limbs, kicking the broken suit of stone armor at his feet, your hand still on his heart “Witchy?” 
His eyes are blown wide, memories of what had happened an hour before coming to the surface. The same panicked look adorns his face. 
“The potion- it wasn’t” he begins, as you move your hand off of his body, much to your heart’s dismay. You shake your head. 
“It wasn’t fake. None of them are fake” you mutter, staring at the floor, not even daring to look at him. There’s a quiet tension, an almost awkward silence, charged with pain and heartbreak, as Eddie realizes what you mean by ‘not fake.’
“And you brought me back from whatever I turned into” he breathes.
You just nod, head fixated on the floorboards and the rubble surrounding his feet.
“Does that make you-” he gulps. Can’t even bring himself to say it. 
“A witch” you mumble under your breath “a real one,” your gaze falls on his eyes, dilated and sad, as his eyebrows curve up, a line forming on the bridge of his nose. 
There’s once again an unsettling quiet between you two, as he tries to wrap his head around the news. 
His chest feels hollow, where your hand had been just moments before, an unrecognizable phantom pressing down on his heart, rubbing salt in a gashing wound, hoping it would ameliorate it, only to make it bleed more.
He takes a few steps back, watching his step over the rubble, breaking his silence after what feels like hours. 
“Why didn’t you tell me this?” it’s a mere mumble, but the question was clear, hurt, and a little scared, maybe. 
“I swore under oath that I would keep it a secret” you purse your lips, taking a step forward. Your heart shatters when he takes a step back.
His chest is stilled, breath caught in his throat, hands at his sides as he scoffs. 
“You swore you’d keep it a secret? Is that why you’ve been so jumpy lately? You knew I was bound to find out and you didn’t tell me?” his head is reeling, betrayal cuts through him like a knife as more and more of looking at you twists the dagger in his chest. 
“I didn’t want you to find out, Ed. I promised to my coven-” 
“Your coven?  There’s more of you?” you can’t do anything else but swallow on the knot in your throat, scratching and engorging with every word that comes out of Eddie’s mouth, and nod. 
“And you let me drink the potion, God knows what it could have been” he trembles, a shaky breath escapes him. 
“I tried to stop you, Eddie!” you reach for him, hanging on the feeble hope he’ll realize that you have never meant to hurt him in the first place. 
“And- and what if you spelled me, huh? What if you spelled me to make me fall in love with you? Is my love for you not real?” that hurt you more than anything else he could have said, tears brimming your eyes, escaping from their confinement as they streak down your cheeks. 
“I’ve never used my magic on you,” you admit, voice thick with salty tears “my love for you is real, as yours is. I never tampered with your heart, it’s not who I am” bottom lip jutted out and trembling, feeling on the teetering edge of the end.
“I don’t know who you are” a stab to the heart would have hurt less. “You’ve been lying to me for the past year about who you are. No wonder I was so in love with you, you made me fall in love with a person that doesn’t exist, you spelled me!” he’s trembling, you can see it in the way that his fists are balled up– something he does to stabilize himself whenever he’s upset. 
And now he’s upset because of you. 
“Eddie–” you take a step forward, he takes a step back. 
“No. Don’t- don’t come closer.” tears well at the bottom of your lash line, as you watch him turn away, leave and close the door behind him. Words trapped at the bottom of your throat. Words you’ll never get to say again. 
You’re not sure how long you stand there, staring at the doorknob, hoping that it might turn, revealing Eddie once again, ready for you to explain everything to him. 
But the doorknob doesn’t turn, the door doesn’t open, and Eddie doesn’t come back. 
You refuse to sweep the rubble from the last time he was in your apartment, hoping that the smell of him stuck to the cold stone, but there’s nothing left of him in your space. 
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The thing about love witches is that when the thing most precious to them, their hearts, break,  the life force of their power fades. 
So within a short span of days, you notice yourself being weakened. Simple spells become a hard feat, as you can barely make things levitate, sitting in the darkness of your room. 
Days begin to merge into themselves, as you get yourself to work, then home, then work, then home. A repeating cycle you don’t intend to stop. You leave around the back side of the store, to not let Eddie see you while he’s on his smoke break, blending into the crowded streets of what once seemed like the best place in the world.
Your aunt Hilda doesn’t hear from you, and neither does anyone else. You fall off the face of the earth, hoping that your hours never coincide with Eddie’s. 
But you can feel it from next door, the pain and hurt that radiates from the record store. You feel it in the way he speaks to customers, in the way he sighs as he gets off his smoke break. 
You hear him ask Janice about you, she tells him that she doesn’t know, that she hasn’t seen you in a while. Respecting your wishes to let him live his life in peace. 
But he wasn’t living his life in peace. In fact, Eddie was miserable. 
He was miserable in the way that everything reminded him of you, in the way that if he stepped too close to your store (to make sure you were working that day), he’d smell the rose incense you’d light at your house. The one he would smell on your clothes. 
The crystals that sat on his windowsill were now tightly packed and shoved away on a far up shelf that he would not be reminded of you. He burned every trace of you, the taste of betrayal bitter in his throat as he sat on his couch every night, always on the left side, because you sat on the right. A place for you was always carved in his mind, whether it was unconscious or intentional. 
 The smell of your shampoo lingers in the pink bottles in his shower, in the silk pillow you always slept on when you went over to his house. A silk shirt you left on his bed, gingerly placed on his pillow as he lets your smell engulf him. That’s the only way he can sleep. 
There’s a fear deeply setting in, that he might just never be able to get over you. Despite the lies and the secrets, he will never be able to not think about you, not when the smell of rose incense or the color pink exist, not when long skirts and crystals and tarot cards and brocade rugs exist. Not when you exist. Not when you keep walking the earth, sadness seeping in every crevice and every crack of his walls.
He knows he can’t go on like this. Not while you roam the same streets he roams, waiting for you to turn around. Look at me, witchy, look at me. 
And you’re so sad. He can see it in your eyes, in the way you don’t carry yourself like you used to– shoulders slouched, dressed in black like you’re mourning the loss of your heart. Mourning the loss of your love.
He debates going back to Hawkins for a bit. Going back to live with his uncle– leave this new world behind, just until the air has been purified of you. Until he’s no longer thinking about the witchy girl who haunts his dreams at night. Go work where his friend Steve works at, shitty, dead- end job, just for a bit. 
Confine himself to the life of a hermit, just so he can allow you to live in peace. 
So he goes back to Hawkins, under the guise of going home for the holidays. He picks up whatever jobs his uncle can’t do anymore because of his age, driving the beat up yellow pick- up truck in and out of town. 
“I never thought I’d see the day Munson would come crawling back” he’d hear a couple of people say on the street. He’s never gone unnoticed, but now more so than before– integrated in the San Francisco scene, he did anything but blend in. And he swears he sees you a few times, walking around downtown Hawkins, your hair, your clothes, your bag. Prancing around like your life is back to normal. 
Could it have been a spell? Did you spell him to not make him forget about you? 
But he knows it isn’t like you. Not malicious, not even as a witch, he assumes. 
He keeps himself up at night thinking about you. You’d never use magic on him. With a sound mind, he tells himself that’s true. Your love for him is real. Is his love for you real? Shivering in the freezing temperature of his uncle’s trailer he’d ponder whether what you had was real or not. 
Real.
He drives himself crazy, the thought of you plaguing his mind. 
Even his uncle grows worried, the purple bags under his nephew’s eyes, all the books on witchcraft Eddie could find at the Hawkins local library sitting on his desk. Staying up to read on anything and everything that could help him.
And when that doesn’t work he goes on his uncle’s shitty wifi he never uses to research anything about witches, about magic, about you.
You don’t sense him anymore. Not through the walls, not in his sardonic laugh. It’s like he’d vanished into thin air. 
You find yourself stepping into the record store after a shift, asking his shitty coworkers what happened to Eddie. 
And you’re so weak. So tired, it is even a feat to be able to make it through one full shift standing up, finding a stool to sit on. You’ve paled, eyes dark and lifeless. 
“He’s gone back home for the holidays” one of the assholes who made fun of you says “left you stranded here all by yourself? Or did he kick you to the curb?” he smirks, and the other idiot laughs. You make a mental note to hex them for good next time. 
If you don’t die first. 
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Eddie comes back to San Francisco after the holidays, and it’s like he’s never left. 
Union Square has taken off the tree and the ice skating rink– he wanted to take you there. He thought you’d be good at ice skating. You’re good at everything. Or maybe it’s because you’re magic. 
The restaurant you went to on your first date has closed down. There’s a smile creeping on his face as he remembers you laughing because he couldn’t eat with chopsticks. He misses hearing you laugh. He misses seeing you smile. 
The tiny twinkle, the stars in your eyes. The way he’d braid your hair at night. Petting Circe, nestled in between you two in your bed. 
He sees you for the first time since he’s been back on the porch of your shop. His heart shrinks at the sight of you. Eyes sunken in, buried in layers and layers of woolen fabric, staring blankly at the street in front of you. 
The thing about love witches is that when the thing most precious to them, their hearts, break,  the life force of their power fades. 
He remembers reading that in an old looking book during the holidays. He wrote it down in his notebook. 
A love witch. Thrives on being loved and being in love.  
Her heart is only safe when her love is true and unfettered. 
He sees it now.
He shows up to your house after talking himself into it for a week, with the excuse of returning a shirt. The same silk  shirt he’d been sleeping on top of since he left you. He had it washed for you. It doesn’t smell like you anymore.
He knocks. Is it him or are his hands always that sweaty? Is his heart beating at a normal pace? Is his hair okay? And his breath? Oh shit, he has a zit on his chin.
“Go away Aunt Hilda!” he hears you say, grumpy and grouchy. The veiled sadness in your voice creates a rift between him and the door. 
So he knocks. Again. And Again. 
“Aunt Hilda I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, I don’t want– Eddie” A breath gets trapped in your diaphragm, feeling your heart start picking up its pace for the first time in what felt like weeks. 
“Hi” he gives you a tight smile, the silk balled up in a fist, purple with little black swirls on it. 
“Hi, um, I– what are you doing here? Do you wanna come in?” you slither like a worm, that’s how you feel. The boy you’ve been pining and crying and suffering for is here. Right in front of you. 
You look so much more frail than he’d remembered “I uh–” he holds up the fabric “you left this at my house” 
“Oh, thanks. That’s sweet of you” Your heart drops, you really thought he was going to make amends with you?
You extend your arm, so he can give the shirt to you. So he can be on his way and be gone forever. 
Hands, fingers, knuckles. He misses holding your hand. 
“I heard you went home for the holidays, how was that?” you lean on the doorframe, hands crossed on your chest. 
“It was good, I just spent it with my uncle. He told me to tell you happy new year, uh— even though we’re not—” he shouldn’t have said the last part, he sees you sink into yourself, gazing down at the hardwood floor. His stomach twists. 
“What did you do for the holidays?” he asks. He doesn’t want it to be over, not yet. 
“I just stayed in, I’ve been pretty sick lately, flu season in full swing. I’ve just been—”
“Your heart’s broken, isn’t it? That’s why you’ve been so sick?” your heart drops. How does he know all this? 
He reads your puzzled expression “I um— did some research. That’s what I did most of my holidays.  I just wanted to understand. I know you didn’t spell me, or whatever. You’re a love witch” he takes out a piece of paper, highlighted is a sentence, in light pink.
Her heart is only safe when her love is true and unfettered. 
Your head is reeling, he hasn’t stopped thinking about you. He spent his holidays researching you, your kind. He knows you didn’t lie to him. 
Tears begin to spill onto the old parchment, the tears you haven’t shed in the past two months resurfacing, as you violently jerk and sob in front of him. You missed him.
Eddie quickly steps into your apartment and closes the door, enveloping you in a hug. And it feels good for your heart, a soothing balm for all the cracks and wounds it’s suffered. 
“It’s okay, witchy, you can let it out” he says, as you continue to sob on his shoulder. Soft shushing sounds as he caresses your hair “Shhh…shhh… I’ve got you” and it’s like he’s never left. 
“I’m here now, I’m not leaving” his assurance makes your body feel whole again. He sits you both down on the couch. 
“Witchy, I didn’t stop thinking about you for a second. I would see you everywhere, I thought I was going crazy” he begins, and maybe he sees a twinkle in your eye, something weak, almost like a heartbeat being revived. 
“I thought going to Hawkins, just to distance myself would change things. But I’d keep myself awake thinking about you, all the time, wondering if you were doing okay.” His hand brushes yours, as you wipe your tears with the sleeve of your sweater. 
“I would see you at work, or out and about and you looked so sad. And I just couldn’t explain to myself what happened to you, until I came across that book” he finishes.
And in turn, you don’t say anything, you just kiss him. It’s wet and messy with the tears and the saliva, but he immediately kisses you back, cradling your face in his hand. Your heart beats faster than it has in a while, and it’s like magically, your skin has a bit more color to it. 
And Eddie sees the stars in your eyes again. 
When you detach you just lay your head on his chest. You listen for his heartbeat, lulling you into a deep sleep, the best sleep you’ve had in two months. He follows you not soon after, Circe on his lap, as he falls into slumber with a peaceful smile on his face. 
Once awoken from your sleep, you go make a cup of tea for the both of you.
“Witchy?” your head lifts at the nickname as you pour him his tea.
 “So, are you a witch, a mage or a sorceress?” 
You just roll your eyes and kiss him again. 
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usedtobecooler · 6 months
Text
follow me down | steve harrington x reader
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a/n: one tiny conversation with @loveshotzz caused a fire to be lit under my ass yesterday, thus this debauchery was written. it's good to be out of the smut slump! 2.3k words.
tw: EXPLICIT CONTENT 18+ MINORS DNI, gloryhole, dubcon, blowjobs, reader has a vagina, alcohol and drug mentions, anonymous sex acts, dirty talk, pet names, rough oral sex, masturbation, no protection.
Maybe this was a terrible, awful, bad idea, but as you sit on your knees in the darkened bathroom stall, you can't shake the nervous thrum of excitement vibrating through your entire body at what's about to take place.
This wasn't what you came out with your friend to do tonight — the plan was to go to this new kink bar on Main, party together and maybe take somebody home, if you were interested enough.
The drinks went down way too easily, the bass of the sensual music flowing through you both as you danced together, grinding up against one another without a care in the world. People were staring, of course they were, two hot women in latex in the middle of a sex club? It was inevitable.
Happening upon the secret bathroom was no mistake, your girlfriend pulling you in through the door and laughing in delight as she showed you, multiple private rooms behind blood red doors, slick grey door knockers adorned on them.
"It's all legit, I promise. No creeps, the guys on the door know better than to let them in here, especially Eddie, he would never," she'd assured, "let loose, babe. Put that talented mouth of yours to good use. I'll be in the next one over."
You eye up the stall, draped in red lighting, creating an aura. Taking in your surroundings for the next who-knew how long, with wide, curious eyes.
The hole in the wall itself was quite wide, clearly meant to be there as the plaster is perfectly cut in a circle, cute multicolored sparkles frame it alongside sharpied numbers and lewd messages.
There's a little box at your side, full of various single-use items you may need or want — disinfectant wipes, gum, breath spray, condoms, lube. You giggle, pleasantly shocked by the attention to detail that the club put into it all.
It's clear that this is what these stalls are meant for, to live out the deepest of fantasies in some sort of safety.
It's almost comforting, makes you want to go ahead with it even more, as you sit patiently waiting for somebody to enter the stall on the other side. Busying yourself with using a disinfectant wipe, cleaning any part of the stall that you think you'll come into contact with.
You're so preoccupied that you don't even notice somebody else has entered the room, until you hear the stall door next to your own click shut. Jeans so tight they almost look painted on ghost past the hole in the wall, nervous hands rubbing at the material.
"What the fuck is the etiquette in here?" The guy laughs, to himself mostly, no other greeting, and it's almost endearing. The nervous lilt in his voice obvious.
"I was expecting you to come in here and just shove your dick through the hole, to be fair," you giggle, picking up your drink and taking a sip, "nice of you to talk first, though. Hi, I guess?"
"Hi," he laughs back, breathlessly. You watch as he shuffles around on the other side, nothing more than a thigh and hand in your eyeline, the side of a zipper. Tighter fitting in that area than usual.
"So, do you wanna do this?" You ask, just for confirmation, veins thrumming with nerves and something akin to excitement, "I think I know the answer already, your jeans are, uh, very fucking tight."
"Shit, yeah. You— you're sure you're okay with this, right?" The man's voice is high pitched, whiny and a bit desperate, the clink of his belt against the stall wall enough to shock you, "I just— I don't do this, ever. But my friend he, he gave me these pills 'n I'm just so fucking horny, and you're, well. You're here and offering, God, I wanna."
You clench your thighs together, teetering between both knees as you get comfortable, "I'm okay with it, promise. I wanna, too." You confirm, voice lilted and dripping in desire, "Can you at least tell me your name, though? Wanna know who I'm moaning for."
"Oh, shit," he grunts, shuffling a little so you can see the tips of the auburn loafers he's wearing under the frame of the stall, "I'm Steve. Fuck, dunno if I should've used my real name but, who cares, right?"
Steve.
"Okay then, Steve," you gasp breathily, squeezing your thighs together once again, relishing in the relief it gives the dull ache on your clit, "wanna drop your pants and show me what you're working with?"
You sound far too confident, so confident that you shock yourself. Your hands shake, brain foggy still from one too many tequila shots and bubblegum flavored cocktails. But, Steve's right there and unzipping his pants in your eyeline, your bleary eyes zoning in on tan, slender fingers that you suddenly wish were inside of you.
"Can you— are you okay with me telling you what to do?" Steve asks cautiously, pulling open his jeans and getting ready to drop them. You bite at your glossy lip, the way the denim hangs almost frames the thick bulge in his tight black underwear. You store the picture in your memory for later.
"I like being told what to do," you admit, soft and sweet, "sometimes my brain gets all fuzzy when I'm into it, and I need to be reminded how to act, y'know?"
Steve lets out a strangled noise, a soft chuckle echoing in the room immediately after, "I'll remind you, honey. Don't worry your pretty little head about that."
Your confirmation, the air of arousal in the small space, suddenly has Steve flipping like a switch. You watch with wide eyes as he tugs down his offending clothing covering his thighs, pushing the layers down to his knees, out of his way. His cock springs out, weighed down by its own sheer size, thick and cut.
"Christ," you mutter, your mouth watering, and you desperately grab for the drink you carelessly abandoned at your side, swigging the last of it for a bit of courage. The burning of dark alcohol settling deep and warm in your gut.
You stare unashamedly as he grips the base of his dick, strong fingers wrapping around it, somehow looking dwarfed now. Your jaw already aches and he hasn't so much as pushed the tip past your lips.
"Open wide, honey," Steve's voice drips in sex as he coos his pet name for you, domineering and strong, a very different version of the man who came into the room just minutes earlier, though you can't say it's not a pleasant change.
Your mouth hangs open, tongue lolling out over your bottom lip, putting on a show for the man who can't even see you. You shuffle a little closer, going cross eyed as the wet tip of Steve's cock slides through the hole. You tentatively flick your tongue against the weeping slit, getting a taste of him in your mouth, before wrapping your lips around the head, gently suckling on the salty skin.
"Jesus-fucking-Christ," Steve groans, sighing blissfully as you start up a steady rhythm, allowing saliva to pool on your tongue and help glide your way along his thick shaft, jaw unhinging as if on autopilot for him. The clean, musky taste and scent of him driving you fucking insane, your hands coming up to touch the wall at either side of your head as you bury in further, choking yourself on him.
You know you're sickeningly wet for it, for Steve. Your core runs hot and aches as you lick and suck every inch of his cock you can get to, whining high in the back of your throat as his salty pre slides down your throat, coating your tastebuds in him. It's almost embarrassing how much you enjoy it, losing yourself in making him feel good.
"Y'r so good at this, baby. Fuck me," Steve's forehead thumps against the stall, jolting you slightly, has your rhythm faltering momentarily, teeth grazing ever so slightly down his shaft. He groans, loud and unashamed, punches his hips forwards until you're moaning around your mouthful, vibrations shocking the prettiest sounds from his lips.
"You're rough, huh? Hands on your knees, like a good girl," Steve grunts, rocking his hips into the stall and pushing deeper into your mouth until he's hitting your gag reflex — your throat tightens automatically at the intrusion and he moans, animalistic and needy.
Your hands move on instinct, coming to rest on your thighs, just below the hem of your dress. Your fuzzy head does the work for you, relaxing your jaw and throat for the impending assault. Your panties drip with arousal, eyes rolling into the back of your head, the idea of being used like this doing unspeakable things to your body.
Strong, tan hands wrap around the top of the stall, gold rings glinting in the low mood lighting in the room. You whine, loud and unabashed when you see them grip the plaster. Mind racing at the thought of those hands all over your body.
"Bet you look so fucking good with my cock down your throat," Steve groans, tiny little grunts escaping him as he punches his hips forward in sharp thrusts, "you feel so fucking good, holy shit. Good fucking girl, taking all of me like this."
You know you look obscene — saliva running down your chin, lips raw and puffy, eyeliner and mascara smeared down your cheeks from the tears that spring from your eyes. Your throat feels wrecked, stuffed full on Steve, and you finally show yourself mercy, hand running under your dress to run over the seam of your cunt.
The slick noises of fluid soaked skin crescendo in the room, filthy and disgusting in the most delicious way, erotic and adding to the senses that get you closer and closer to the edge. Your fingers slip deftly over your slick cunt, working at your clit until you're choking on a sob, body alight with how good you feel.
"You crying, baby?" Steve coos, rocking into your mouth again, tears pooling below your top lip, adding to the salty mixture in your mouth, "You're lucky the walls between us, if I saw you crying I'd only go rougher, I'd break you."
You wail, fingers slipping from your pussy as his words rattle in your ears. Your tongue flicks over every inch of him you can get between the harsh thrusts, swallowing him down and mapping out every bit.
"Can hear you fucking yourself in there," Steve comments, and you can't find it in you to even feel embarrassed, not when he's rammed so far down your throat that you're struggling to breathe and gagging, "so fucking hot, wanna watch. Wanna pull on your hair and fuck that tight little throat harder."
Your knees ache, your jaw feels like it's splitting, whole body alight with the pleasure-pain that courses through you. It's like nothing you've ever felt before.
Steve chuckles, an animalistic noise tearing from him when you suck a little harder, chasing his cock as he tries to pull out. Your core burns hotter with every passing swipe of your fingers on yourself, chasing your high so desperately that you can't find it in you to be mortified.
"You close, honey? You've gone a little stupid on my cock," he comments, tutting at you, "if this is how dumb you get on blowing me, I can't wait to see how dumb you get when I'm buried deep in your pussy."
You whimper, tears spilling down your cheeks as you shudder through your orgasm, your cries muffled with Steve's cock. Your fingers work on your clit until your hips shake, slick drips of your creamy release sliding down your inner thighs.
"Perfect little slut," Steve grunts, hips beginning to stutter in their rhythm, a constant stream of steady praises spewing from his lips, "can't believe you came sucking my cock, I'm a fucking stranger. I'm gonna cum, y'r making me cum, holy fuck."
One, two uneven thrusts later, and Steve's hips shove forward for a final time, cock kicking up on your tongue as he releases inside of your slackened mouth. Your brain and gag reflex barely cooperate, some of his load sputtering out from between your lips as you struggle to swallow it all.
Steve's loud when he comes, moaning so unashamedly that it echoes in the room, and you're so sure that your friend in the next one over will hear him, maybe even the one over from that, too. It's mortifying how attractive you find it.
There's an awkward silence once all is said and done, his spent cock slipping from your lips once you're sure he's finished. The sounds of heaving breaths and clothes shuffling are almost deafening in your ears, as you sober up from what could be considered a mind melting experience.
Steve zips his jeans up on the other side, awkwardly chuckling, "Uh, thank you for the best blowjob I've ever had in my entire life, stranger."
You bark out a hoarse laugh in return, shocked by the casualness of it, though it's so endearing — and inflating for the ego, "Thanks, Steve. It was a pleasure getting to suck your dick."
Steve laughs for real that time, breathless and almost incredulous, "I don't know if this is, uh, kink etiquette or whatever but, I'm in this ridiculous black satin shirt. Hairs high enough that you can see it through the crowd, or so my friend says. Come find me out there?"
You're shocked into silence for a moment, brain running on overdrive, trying to comprehend the invitation to actually go see him, after all of that. You feel ridiculous, how could you be prudish after sucking off a stranger?
"Or not?" Steve asks, with a deflated little huff.
"No!" You awkwardly shout, cringing internally, "Uh, I absolutely would love to, Steve. I'm in a black latex dress, I have a red pentagram necklace on, it's hard to miss."
"I'll see you out there then, honey."
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gh0stsp1d3r · 11 months
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hii ! idk if requests are open but may you do a hobie brown x f! or Gn! reader? Basically where they’re both spider people(is that the right wording?😭) and they js go swinging together, and just have a cute lil date kinda like what gwen and miles did ? thank u if you do!!
LOVE
With you
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Hobie smiled as you both sat on the edge of the building.
“It’s so nice outside.” You said, you’ve been to Hobies universe plenty of times. But it was a lot different from yours, so every time you did, it was amazing.
You looked at him and he looked back at you.
“Ready to go?” He asked.
“Yeah.” You put your mask on, and he put his on.
“You going first?”
“You want me to?”
“Sure. Show me what you got, spider-girl.” He smirked under the mask. You dived off the building, no warning, Hobie following you. You hooked onto another building. Then to one on the other side, you turned back, swinging backwards now as you looked at Hobie.
“Ehh, you’re good, but not better than me!” He shouted, and went ahead of you. As you both raced.
You caught up quickly, and he narrowed his eyes at you, you laughed at his reaction when you went faster than him.
He caught up to you, and started to swing next to you at the same pace.
“C’mon, I wanna show you someone.” He said, he took a right, and you followed him.
He went to the ground, and so did you. People stared, probably confused.
He entered a pub, and as soon as he opened the door cheers erupted from everywhere. You looked at him in confusion, he just looked around and had his eyes on one person.
“Aye, Karl.” Hobie said, going up to a guy with black hair.
“Hey, Hobie. Who’s this?” He looked at you as him and Hobie did a handshake.
“My girlfriend.”
“Was wondering when I’d meet her. You didn’t tell me she was…”
“Yeah, she is.”
“That’s cool. Cool.” He said, and put his hand out for you to shake it, which you did.
“I’m y/n.” You said your real name, since he clearly knew Hobies.
“Karl. Captain anarchy:”
“I’ve heard a lot about you.” You said to him.
“I’ve heard probably more about you.” He laughed.
“Alright alright, I talk about you both. I wanted you to meet each other.” He said, putting his arms around the both of you.
“Wanna drink?” Karl asked, taking a sip of his own.
“Nah, we were just about to head out. I’ll see you later, man.” He patted his shoulder and you both left.
“Yeahhh, spider man!!”
“Can I get a picture?”
“Is that your girlfriend?”
He ignored the questions and comments, leaving the pub. You both walked a little bit, and then climbed up a tall building and sat down on the edge again.
“Hey, I had fun today. Thank you.” You said, putting your head on his shoulder as you both watched the sun set.
“Yeah. I did too.”
“It’s late. You should probably be getting home, yeah?” He said, looking down at you.
“Yeah.”
“But before you go, I wanna do one more thing.”
“Okay..”
He got up, you got up. He went to an alley, and walked down it. He covered your eyes and grabbed your hands.
“I had one of my friends make this. Thought it was nice. He needed inspiration so..” he took his hands off your eyes. Your eyes widened.
It was a painting, a painting of you on the beach. The background was the ocean, and it was a calm and beautiful background.
“Hobie.. it’s.. its..”
“Good, I know?”
“It’s more than good. It’s amazing.” You said, laughing.
“It’s beautiful, just like you.” He mumbled, and you looked at him. He cupped your cheeks and kissed you.
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carlsdarling · 9 months
Text
From Dusk Till Dawn
Carl and Y/N exploring an abandoned strip club... Bit of a plot, then sex. Everyone is 18 or over.
WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, oral (female receiving)
Tags: @lilyvaleska your request
You and Carl lingered boredly on the dusty road that led through the small town. There wasn't much happening on this scavenging trip - you had encountered a few walkers, but they hadn't posed a challenge, and now the main street lay completely deserted. There were a few stores - a pharmacy, a gun store, a small grocery store, and a kitchen supply store. The others were busy looting these places, and there wasn't much for you and Carl to do. Except to load the looted goods into the cars. "Look for antibiotics," you could hear Siddiq's voice from the pharmacy.
Carl yawned. "This could take a while," he scowled, fingers hooked in his belt, leaning casually against the car. His long hair fell into his forehead. It was hot, the sun was burning, and his shirt was already showing damp patches under his armpits.
"I'm so bloody hot," you grumbled. "Can't we go somewhere more shady?"
Carl looked around. "Over there, the bar, maybe?" he suggested. The front of the bar looked a little strange; it was painted in black and red, and the windows were taped with vinyl so you couldn't see inside. "From Dusk Till Dawn," was the name of the establishment. Hesitantly, you approached the entrance. Carl went in first, with his gun raised and securing in all directions. "Looks clear," he then announced. In the semi-darkness, you roamed the barroom. Here, too, the furnishings were odd - there were fluffy armchairs and discreetly separated alcoves; also a sort of stage with a pole. Carl headed for what used to be the bar, where quite a few dusty bottles littered around. "Jack Daniel's," he said delightedly, swinging one of the bottles. "Want some?" He had already spotted two glasses and poured them both full.
You chuckled. "What is this place, anyway?" you asked, glancing around and sipping your whiskey.
"Uuuum," Carl said awkwardly. "I think it was a strip club." Your mouth opened in shock. Carl emptied his glass. "Should we take a look over there?" He pointed to a few doors at the very rear of the establishment.
As it turned out, there were the restrooms, a storage room (with even more alcohol), and two strange-looking rooms. In the first room were several shelves of various sex toys - latex costumes, whips, masks, dildos and similar stuff were piled up. Carl grinned as he picked up some of the items. "Oh my God," he laughed. "Just take a look."
"Ah, I'd rather not," you rebuffed. "What's in there?" You pointed to the second door. Behind it was a room with a huge bed in the middle. The walls and ceiling of the room were completely mirrored. There was also a chair, and in one corner was an tipped-over box that contained condoms and towelettes. You spun around and looked at your reflection in the mirror as Carl caught you, hugged you, and pressed you against him, kissing you eagerly, his hands touching you under your top. "Carl," you squeaked, "what are you doing?" You had been together for a couple of weeks and had also had sex a few times, but always in your room or Carl's.
He peered over at the bed and then smirked as he took off his hat. "It would be something special to do it here," he whispered lustfully, licking your neck so that you shivered. " Are you up for it?"
A forbidden tingling sensation spread through your body as you nodded bashfully. Carl grabbed some condoms from the box and tossed them on the bed, then started undressing you. "What if someone walks in?" you asked uneasily.
"Wait," he pulled away from you and shoved the chair under the doorknob. Then he approached you again, his flanell and shirt dropped carelessly on the floor. You undid his belt and jeans, exposing him. Carl was already so aroused that his cock looked quite irritated; precum was dripping out and he was proudly standing erect. Carl's balls were slightly swollen. "Look how horny you drive me," he sighed, pressing himself against you, his hands roaming over your naked body. In the mirrors around you, you could see each other from all angles - Carl's hands sliding between your legs, and how you stroked his neck, and also how he pressed his pelvis against you in demand, rubbing his hard one against you.
Soaking wetness flooded your pussy, and you grabbed Carl by the hand and directed him over to the bed. It was covered with a sheet of rubber, and the material felt unusually cold against your skin. You were both so excited by now, though, that it didn't bother you - moaning, you rolled around on the bed, Carl burying his head between your legs to eat you out. "So wet," he moaned between kitten licks as you tugged on his hair and arched your back.
"Carl," you then pleaded. "I'm ready for you, please fuck me. Now." With glazed eyes you looked at him, trembling with desire.
Carl fumbled hastily with the condom, and the sight of it was just making you hornier. Finally he mounted you, and you willingly spread your legs for him as he now gently penetrated you and groaned. "It's so good," he murmured and began gentle thrusts, his breath hot against your ear. In the mirror above you, you could watch Carl moving on top of you, his sexy slender body, his back muscles tensing as he pounded into you, his firm ass. And your own hands stroking him incessantly, moving to his buttocks, animating him to rail you harder. Your fucked out face, cheeks flushed, lips parted.
Carl turned his head to look in the mirror next to the bed, moaning loudly at the sight of you with your legs wrapped around his slim hips, writhing ecstatically beneath him. He intensified his thrusts. "Oh, baby," he gasped. "I cannot hold it much longer. Are you cumming?"
"Yes," you whimpered, "Oh God, Carl, yes." Your pussy tightened even closer around Carl's cock as he brought you over the edge, and that led to Carl now cumming as well, thrusting into you moaning excessively as he rode out his orgasm and shot his load into the condom.
Dripping with sweat and breathless, you stayed lying together afterwards, kissing, until Carl got up to get some of the wet towelettes so you could clean yourselves. "I think we should go back out," he said then. "Not that they're searching for us." You picked up your clothes and tried to adjust your hair halfway. Your faces were still passionately flushed.
As you stepped out into the street, Daryl was leaning against one of the cars. "Where the fuck have you guys been?" he wondered. "Rick was already getting worried, he's been looking for you guys."
"Uum," Carl held up a half-full bottle of whiskey. "We found this."
Rick came over. "Carl, what are you doing?" he scolded angrily, snatching the bottle from Carl and tossing it into the back seat of the car. He sniffed. "You've been drinking," he then accused Carl. "You know how dangerous it is not to stay sober on a scavenging trip."
"Yeaaah," Carl groused defiantly. "It's okay."
"Get in the car," Rick snorted angrily as Daryl grinned.
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tojiwrd · 9 months
Text
1: fate is fickle ; gojo satoru
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pairing gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary when satoru breaks off your engagement, you understand and accept it. but when he marries someone else, you don't understand because he didn't want to be tied down.
warnings not much tbh,, just swearing, satoru being an ass, mention of family death, family drama, bad parents, and breakups, not proofread
word count 3k
a/n made a new account because the gojo brainrot is so deep i wanted to start a multichap, mega-angst fic lol
send requests next ↠ to be added to taglist
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You stood under the silver luminescence of a crescent moon on your balcony, fingers curled around the neck of a wine glass that’s contents were dissolving into your bloodstream a lot slower than you wished. You didn’t expect anyone to walk through the looming windows behind you and condemn you for disappearing from the meeting because—in your mind—you’d done everything that was expected of you: sit there, look pretty, and occasionally nod your head whenever your mother speaks and voices her opinion.
It was rather funny, though, because your mother had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. When your father decided to kick the bucket seven months ago, he’d left your mother dealing with the remnants of his problems he wasn’t able to solve in his lifetime. Yesterday, your mother had to finally meet with the stockbroker as her grieving period was officially over and today, your father’s advisor advised her to have the meeting with the Gojo family your father set up before his death. 
You had assumed it was niceties, a sense of normalcy after losing a bigshot businessman between two powerful families. You were wrong. Twenty-seven minutes into the dinner, Gojo Takayashi throws his wine glass against the wall, staining the clean sheen of white paint a horrifying shade of crimson that looked like what the walls would truly be painted with were this dinner not to go the man’s way. 
“I need this company back,” he’d said, a lilt of rage coating his voice as he did his very best to not do something that would warrant him being kicked out. His wife, Aya, merely looked down to scan her manicured nails and took a large gulp of her wine, then sneakily took a sip from her flask (that obviously contained something much stronger) you’d caught a glimpse of. 
You’d pursed your lips, a melancholic sigh leaving your lips as you inspected the damage on the wall. Knowing your mother, she’d have somebody come in by tonight to fix it. 
“And you can have it back, as I told you.” Your mother evidently rolled her eyes as she replied to the man, jaw gritted. 
“I am not emptying my entire wallet to buy my own company!”
Your mother, much to the eldest Gojo's ire, let his statement simmer and marinate in the inexplicably thick air of tension and continued chewing down the last bit of her food. 
Nobody dared to talk, even your grandmother who stuck to clicking her heels against the linoleum floors. You’d decided to skip out on dessert, creating some measly excuse of a stomach ache that nobody believed but didn’t deign to respond to. You didn’t think you could get away with both families not noticing the tension between you and the Gojo’s youngest, but the elders truly gave you a run for your money because you went almost the entirety of dinner without having to speak to Satoru. Keyword being almost. 
You couldn’t be childish and spill the red wine over his obnoxious, perfect-fitting white shirt like his father spilled over your walls because that would most likely start the next war were his family to see such blatant disrespect. But, when you felt his presence behind you in the balcony, you knew you had free reign and you could, in fact, be childish. 
“Hey.” His voice was soft, so soft that you almost forgot how the last time he’d spoken to you his voice had run through and sliced your chest like a knife. “Dinner’s over so—”
You cut him off and said, “Then go home, Gojo.”
Not Satoru. Not ‘Toru. Just Gojo. You were sure he couldn’t be the tiniest bit affected by the subtle (glaringly obvious) jab, but it felt good for more than a millisecond to reclaim some thin shreds of your dignity. You wanted to crane your neck to gaze at his reaction, to see if there was a reaction in the first place but you knew if you looked back, he’d be the one seeing a crochet of emotions weaving over yours. 
“You look good, Y/N,” he said, completely ignoring your disinterest in the conversation. Of course, you looked good. You knew that. But why did he have to say it? 
“Can’t say the same for you.” Lie. You intended to have more bite in the words, but they came out almost emotionless.
You looked down at your waist as you heard him shuffle behind you and his hands reached out to clutch at the metal railing in front of you, arms almost brushing against your waist. His fingers curled, and it gave you a chance to see the ring on his finger. You took in a shuddered breath as the sandalwood and slightly musky scent of his cologne snaked their way to your nostrils, entirely taking you back to the times when you fell asleep to that scent and had it floating around you nearly all the time. You hated him. You hated him because the way he let out a small, barely audible chuckle at your inhale, you knew that he knew exactly what was going through your mind. 
“I just—I want to talk about everything, Y/N.”
When Gojo Satoru broke up with you, it wasn’t poetic nor was it something for the movies. 
When Gojo Satoru broke up with you, you couldn’t respond with prettily crafted words to make him reconsider or, in fact, respond at all. Your friends always told you that you had a way with words, and you believed you did, too, because you were hardly ever afraid of speaking your mind. However, when Gojo Satoru broke up with you, your mind most likely short-circuited because all you did was stare at the deep sea you were sure resided within his eyes. 
His voice was unwavering, or maybe it wavered and you were simply too gone to notice it, when he said, “I think we moved too fast, Y/N. I don’t think I’m ready to be tied down for life, honestly.” 
When he opened with words as hard-hitting as those, how could he have given you any more closure? What could you have asked him to make him stay? He was the one who got down on one knee in the rooftop restaurant he’d rented out for the night and gave you a perfectly mesmerizing speech before he pulled out a maroon velvet box. He was the one who assured you that both your families would be okay with this—that they’d finally accept your relationship as a genuine one instead of as a fling between two twenty-something-year-olds who have nothing better to do with their time. 
You thought about how ecstatic your father would’ve been once he realized his little princess was getting married. Your mother would probably squeal in excitement before running herself ragged with the wedding preparations. You weren’t sure about his parents, though. Your families always had a moderately decent relationship, decent enough that Satoru’s father signed over their shared ownership of their company to hers after the Satoru’s began being involved in legal issues that threatened the company’s image. But you did know that despite the companionship, Satoru’s parents were difficult. They were sheltered people that knew nothing of how to treat their kid except what they’d learned from their own parents, and that was why Satoru hardly ever let himself feel too much over their words and demands. It didn’t cut deep for him because he knew they didn’t know any better.
All of that didn’t matter anymore, though, because Satoru had asked for the family heirloom engagement ring back with shaky, hesitating hands. You wanted to laugh and cry because he’d said, “I don’t want my parents to notice it’s missing, just in case they check.
How were you meant to know that after three months, you’d be hearing from Suguru that Satoru was engaged to Kimura Hana and she was wearing that wedding ring?
Suguru didn’t blame you when you got the idea that he broke it off with you because he wanted to marry her—docile, do-no-wrong Hana that you weren’t even aware he’d met—and he let you go along with that idea. You tore apart the rhinestone-studded invitation that your mother handed to you, a sad look gleaming in her eyes when your teeth dug into your lip at the sight. You cleaned up the strayed pink jewels that fell off from the thick paper and threw them in the trash, though you kept finding several of them in every nook and cranny of your room for the next month. 
It was a horrid feeling, seeing the heavy cursive inviting you to the wedding of Gojo Satoru and Kimura Hana. Inviting you, your name in just a small font at the top when it should’ve been next to his. In the middle. 
You called him a week after receiving the invitation, words you should’ve spoken in the car heavy on your tongue waiting to be let out. 
“Hey!” You’d heard the chipper, upbeat voice of a woman through the speaker of your phone and your fingers loosened their grip enough that it fell onto your blanket with a soft thud. “Who is this?” 
“Hana?” Him. His voice. It was hardly close enough for you to fully make out it was him speaking, but you’d heard the lilt of his voice you’d memorized over three years and it would’ve been difficult not to recognise it. “Who is it?”
She hummed, as though she forgot you were still on the line. “I don’t know, it’s an unknown number.”
You heard him scramble for the phone, and heard when it pulled away from her ears. “I told you not to pick up calls from—”
The line went dead, and it seemed as though a part of you died with it, too.
Maybe it was silly that what hurt the most out of everything—even hearing the girl who he’d picked’s voice—was the fact that he deleted your number. It wasn’t news that Satoru had found somebody else, but to know that he had erased nearly every fragment of his life from yours when the movie ticket of your first date was hung safely on the corkboard above your desk hurt. You were still finding pieces of his wedding invitation in the parts of your room the housekeeper hadn’t reached, and he didn’t even have any trace of you left on his phone. 
When you went on your second date, he showed you the list of his contacts on his phone to prove he only had a small list of twenty-eight numbers saved. He told you he only kept the phone numbers of people who mattered. At that moment, it was funny that he’d said the words, verbatim, “I only keep phone numbers that matter to me.” It was also a warming feeling when you noticed your name amongst them. 
Two months into your relationship, he’d told you in the midst of conversation that he saved your best friend, Reina’s number because he felt it was important. 
And now… 
Well, you couldn’t do anything. You felt as though him saying he didn’t want to be tied down was enough closure for you to come to terms with it. It made sense, too, in a twisted way that did hurt you because commitment wasn’t easy for many people and Satoru had fallen prey to that mentality. What you couldn’t come to terms with was how he’d gotten engaged three months after your breakup. And now, she was picking up calls for him and asking you who you were when you were one of the few people that reached his phone. 
It hadn’t made sense, not one bit. But you only had the tattered bits of dignity left in you to not make yourself seem weak in front of the person who’d given you the carpet to be vulnerable upon then abruptly snatched it from under your feet. Even if you wanted to. 
You were sure the wedding was a gorgeous, over-the-top, once in a lifetime procession. That was one of the many reasons that you didn’t go: it was once in a lifetime. And although people remarry very often around the world, they only have one first wedding. One first kiss as a wedded person. One first night of married bliss. You didn’t want to think that Satoru and Hana would separate because that was, in every way, a devilish thing for someone to even imagine but you were assured by your friends that it was completely valid for you to want him to hurt after what he did.
You didn’t grow the guts to tell them it was because you wished it would be you who he remarried. 
If you couldn’t be his first, you weren’t sure you wouldn’t settle for being his second. 
Satoru’s father went to prison not long after the wedding and that, finally, cut off nearly every form of companionship between your family and theirs. Your father had begun talking down on his father’s name after that, and you weren’t sure why and you didn’t ask because you couldn’t stomach speaking of anybody related to Satoru. Every trace of Satoru’s name vanished from your household, and you believed that was destiny’s way of offering you a chance to start anew because Satoru had. With Hana.
“We should meet Suguru soon,” Reina had said, and you knew she was right. You’d cut off contact with Suguru, albeit slowly and subtly enough that he forlornly caught onto the hints and crept out the door of your life completely. But that didn’t mean it was closed; neither of you held bad blood for one another, and you knew that he understood. 
You declined, wanting to live in the prolonged moment of life that had nothing to do with Satoru. 
The next, and only time, you’d seen Satoru in person was a completely miscalculated and chance encounter even the most highly-regarded fortune teller couldn’t have predicted. You had been in the bathroom of the club you, Reina, and your other friends went to nearly every weekend, when you heard a small squeal of recognition coming from the door next to the sinks. You didn’t need to do anything and were merely waiting for Reina to finish using the bathroom while you reapplied your lipgloss. 
“I know you! You’re Y/N from the… L/N family? My husband’s father works with yours.”
You craned your neck to the side, and were met with a delightfully sweet smile coming from one of the largest banes of your existence. 
You gave her a short, curt, once-over before you met her eyes and forced yourself to reply. “Yeah, and you are?”
She looked a bit shaken at your indifference and lack of recognition. You could only imagine how awkward she felt after deigning you with a bubbly greeting. “I’m—well, I’m Gojo Hana now, I guess.” She giggled, though the humor was hardly there behind it. It seemed as though she was scraping any and every corner to lessen the tension of the interaction. You didn’t care, though, because your mind was reeling at the idea that his wife didn’t even know you and Satoru dated for three years.
“Are you fucking—are you serious?” Reina appeared next to you, and you hadn’t even noticed the click of her heels as she’d walked out of the stall. You reached out a hand and placed it on her forearm to stop her from asking the question that was lingering in your mind, too. “Your husband only tell you that their fathers work together?”
You gritted your teeth. “They don’t work together, actually, since Mr. Takayashi is…”
In prison, the words went unsaid but were still communicated through the neon haze of the bathroom lights. 
“Well, that’s all I know. I’m sorry?” You almost felt bad for Hana because she was clearly clueless. A part of you wanted to mock her, say that he was mine first. But she could instantly rebut that by saying, he’s mine now. And you would lose that pissing contest. So, you kept your mouth shut. 
“Alright, sweetie,” Reina responded, giving her a wide berth, catching a hint of your thoughts and turning around to wash her hands. 
You blinked. “It was nice meeting you,” you said with no sweetness and kindness she offered you. 
Hana took that as her cue and mumbled it back before she scurried off to leave, completely forgetting why she had to go to the bathroom in the first place. 
“Man, she’s something.” Reina whistled through her teeth once the sound of the door shutting reverberated off the walls. 
“Isn’t that right,” you murmured, attempting to hold yourself from letting your thoughts drift into ones that could get your mind racing at 200 miles per hour. “Never thought I’d have to see her, though.”
When you and Reina walked out of the bathroom and sat down at the table with some of your friends—the others presumably on the dance floor—you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to find Hana in the crowd. And you immediately regretted it when you did, because she was at the bar, tucked between a pair of jean-clad thighs you knew all too well. She seemed to be speaking to Satoru, and a hand reached back to the nape of his neck as he hung onto every word she spoke and you felt your stomach twist into small, ugly knots at the sight. His neck turned around instantly, and his eyes immediately found yours, and you attempted to look away. You really, really wanted to. But that was the first time he’d looked at you in a year and three months.
Your throat clogged up, and though he was far away under the dimmed red lights shining from the large, obnoxious signs near the bottles, you itched to speak to him. His shiny white hair was a soft shade of crimson under the lights—you’d always point it out to him, how his hair looked exactly a solid color whenever he was underneath a shaded light. 
His lips curled slightly when he looked at you and his nose scrunched up into what you assumed was anger for treating his wife with such animosity. But the small moment of staring at what once could’ve been—at what once was—ended when he blinked and turned to meet her eyes again, and a healed fragment of your heart cracked again.
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